Incite (Sphere of Irony 1)

“But…”

I spin on my heel and glare at the older man in the black trousers and white shirt. “Look, I appreciate your concern, really, but I need to speak with someone who works here. So, I’ll just wait until they get here if it’s all the same to you.”

“Whatever, it’s your life,” he mutters, slamming the car door shut.

The cab tears out of the gravel lot and disappears around the corner. Slumping down the graffiti covered brick wall, I sit on the ground and pull a crumpled piece of paper from my pocket. Using my shaky hands, I flatten it out the best I can and stare at Adam’s beautiful face. I’d already been thinking about reaching out to him when his GQ interview came out a few months ago. When I read how he felt about me, how he thought he drove me away after the hotel incident because he still doesn’t know that I’d lost my phone, I cried for days.

I’m the one who abandoned Adam after our hotel hook up. Without my phone I had no way to tell him about Callum’s attack and my stay in the hospital. For some reason, Adam thinks he’s to blame for why I didn’t contact him the next day. I was baffled by the revelation when I read it.

I unfold the other piece of paper that I keep with the picture, the one with part of his interview on it, and read the words that he said as if he were speaking directly to me.

AR: I let someone very important to me drift away. Well, actually, I pushed her away. Then, I thought I got her back, but I guess the damage I’d done was too much. Being sober forced me to figure out who I am and what I want. I don’t want to be that guy anymore. The song [Unconscious Devotion] is about what happened instead of what should have been.

GQ: Would you tell us who she is? I’m sure our readers want to know who is the woman that inspired that song, what she’s like.

AR: No. I’m not going to do that to her. You know full well what would happen if I gave you her name. She knows who she is. Well, I think she knows. I haven’t spoken to her in years, so I haven’t a clue.

GQ: Well, if she’s heard the song, I’m sure she knows what it’s about.

AR: Yeah, probably.

‘The song is about what happened instead of what should have been’. I read that line over and over, trying to make sense of how we went so wrong when it seemed like we were so right for each other.

I have no idea how long I sit on the ground, but it’s long enough for my arse to go numb by the time someone shows up to open the club.

“Excuse me? Can I help you?”

I jerk up and slowly stand on my shaky legs. “Yes, please. Oh!” I stop short when I see who I’m speaking to, “you’re Dax’s brother.”

The large man’s eyes narrow and his lips mash together in a tight line. “I don’t talk about Dax to fans,” he snaps. He turns his wide back to me and goes about unlocking the front door of the building.

“No.” I grab his massive bicep to keep him from leaving. The dark look he shoots me would make most people whimper and run away, but I have the power of desperation to make me brave. This is my absolute last chance at finding happiness.

“Don’t you remember me? I’m one of Dax’s friends from sixth form. You and I used to hang out at the DK together sometimes while the guys played their set. Shaun, right?” I pray that Dax’s brother hasn’t taken so many hits to the head in the ring that he can’t remember me and the time we spent together.

He pauses, his hand on the key in the lock. His intelligent eyes scan me one more time, searching his memory for those nights so long ago. “Ellie?” he asks, his forehead scrunched down in bewilderment.

I let out the huge breath I had been holding and smile. “Yes, I’m Ellie Palmer. You remember.”

Shaun grins and pulls me into his strong embrace, hugging me to his chest. “Of course I remember you, but I’m Liam. Shaun is off tonight.” His deep laugh rumbles against my cheek as he presses me harder into his body before releasing me.

My cheeks heat up at the mistake. “Well, you are identical so you’ll have to forgive me the mix-up. It must happen all the time.” I attempt a joke to hide my humiliation.

“No one really does it anymore.” I can tell I must be giving him a strange look because he explains with a chuckle, “Shaun shaves his head now, has for years.”

Oh, that would be the reason. The man in front of me has a full head of sandy brown hair. “Gotcha,” I say with a pitiful pout.

“You’re just as cute as I remember,” Liam states as he finishes unlocking the doors and flips on the fluorescent lights. “C’mon, I need to get everything started up before the fighters get here.” He flashes me a brilliant smile and welcomes me inside.

I follow him into the large warehouse-like space, the musty smell of sweat socks and concrete dust stings my nostrils. The room is cavernous, nothing occupying the huge area except for a raised boxing ring in the center and foldout bleachers that have been pushed off to either side.

Adam brought me here, but only once and only because Dax needed to stop by after band practice. They didn’t think that I should be exposed to the dirty underground world that Dax’s family exists in.

I’m grateful that I paid attention that night as we walked through the dingy streets to what appeared to be an abandoned building. I can see that I was right, the windows are all painted black, probably so no one can see the lights on at night. To anyone passing, the old factory would be a place to avoid, especially after dark.

“Does your dad still own this property?” I ask Liam.

“Yeah, he does. Has to pay the taxes on it, but it’s better than having a developer buy it and tear it down. Then we’d have nowhere to fight.” He crosses the space to a small office along the far wall. “Have to pay off a few coppers to keep it open as well, but that’s just business.” Liam shrugs as if bribing the police is something you do everyday like walking the dog or buying milk. “Dax tried to talk us into giving it up, taking his money and doing something else, but it didn’t feel right. Plus, we enjoy it, it’s all we know,” he explains.