Behind the Mask Read online

  Behind the Mask

  J.L. Ostle

  Copyright 2017 J.L. Ostle

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including but not limited to photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people, either living or deceased, is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination, or if real, used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products and works mentioned within this work.

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Lawrence Editing

  Proofread by Jen Wildner

  Formatted by Leigh Stone

  Cover designed by Kathryn Jacoby

  My beautiful little boy, love you to the moon and back.

  I want to also dedicate this book to the staff at Starbucks in Carlisle, you kept my drinks coming while I wrote away. You are all amazing and lovely, thank you

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  In the Spotlight - Chapter 1

  In the Spotlight - Chapter 2

  In the Spotlight - Chapter 3

  Acknowledgments

  Books by J.L. Ostle

  About the Author

  “Please tell me again why we’re cleaning up their shit at”— my best friend Naomi checks the time on her phone before looking back at me— “four-fifteen in the morning?” She groans, rubbing her eyes.

  “Because you love me and you may get a sneak peek at Troy.” I waggle my eyebrows at her and she groans again. I know her weakness is Troy.

  “If I didn’t want to be underneath him, I’d let you do this on your own.” She looks out the car window.

  I huff at her. “So it’s not because you’re my best friend and we stick together type thing.” I look at her with pretend hurt eyes.

  “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have woken me. I feel so drained.” I watch her yawn and regret waking her up, but I know how chaotic it is going to be and I need all the help I can get if I want to be able to get back to sleep myself.

  “I love you for doing this. It’s just until we get a housekeeper who isn’t trying to sleep with the band, or too old to bend over to pick up lost underwear.” I shiver. I never knew the exact extent of what the cleaners had to do after one of the band’s parties.

  I have lost count how many condom wrappers, used condoms I’ve found—yes, men are that gross they just leave their used-up condoms lying anywhere. I’ve even found bras and panties around the house. Who leaves a house without their underwear?

  Groupies.

  “You do too much for that band. I know you’re family, but they don’t appreciate half the shit you do for them. I’m sure even personal assistants don’t do half the crap they expect you to do.”

  I sigh, driving around the corner when I see the huge white mansion in front of me.

  Home sweet home.

  Truth is, I go above and beyond for this band, like Naomi said. They are my family. The lead guitarist is my older sister, but the rest of the guys, I have grown up with them for the last ten years. When my parents passed away eight years ago, they stuck by me and my sister’s side. They are closer to my sister. I’m just a person who cleans up after them and makes sure their lives are easier.

  “They are my family. They provide a roof over my head, a job. It’s the least I could do.” I pull up toward the gates and roll down the car window, smiling when I see Stuart, the gate security guard. “Hey, Stu, how was the party?”

  He rubs his forehead, a gesture he often does when there have been clingy, ‘not taking the hint’ women.

  “You know how their parties get. A few girls tried to climb over the gates. I think I’m getting too old for this.” He chuckles. Stuart has been here since the band bought the house. I would hate it if he ever quit as I feel like he’s part of the family also.

  He’s about fifty years old, his hair already gray. He is so funny and sweet. He isn’t bad looking for an older man, but he’s happily married, with a little girl and boy who look just like him.

  “Would you leave me here alone with them?” I pout and his head falls back in laughter.

  “You are so mean. How could I leave with you giving me the puppy dog eyes?”

  I smile brightly at him.

  “It’s settled then. You better let us in so we can start cleaning up and catch some zees.” I watch him press a button and the gates start opening up.

  “Good luck,” he says.

  “We’re going to need it.” Naomi groans again.

  Stuart laughs once more. I put the car back in gear and drive up the clear white pathway, parking out front of the house.

  Stepping out of the car, I lean against it, waiting for Naomi to stand by my side. We both look up at the place. When they have one of their parties, I avoid this place like the plague. Hearing people bang on my bedroom door asking how long I’m going to be so they can screw whoever isn’t a nice thing to hear at two in the morning.

  My room is double locked. I know my bed is spotless when I’m not here, so if I ever walk in and it’s a mess I know I’ll burn the mattress and sheets. Unlocking the front door, I almost fall on my face before balancing myself. I look up to see the band’s personal security men. Richard and Gavin.

  “You both almost gave me a heart attack.” I press my hand to my chest.

  “Sorry, Blair, just making sure no girls lingered after the party.”

  I feel sorry for them as they have probably been awake for the last twenty-four hours straight. They still look so put together in their crisp black suits. Unlike during the day, their sunglasses are off.

  They are both quite attractive in their own way. Richard with tousled dirty blond hair, blue eyes, a little stubble on his jaw as Gavin is the complete opposite with dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a trimmed beard.

  “No, just us,” Naomi says, walking farther in the room. We’re standing in the foyer and already I see empty bottles, red cups, clothes, and… I shiver.

  Condoms.

  Gross.

  “How’re the guys?” I ask Rich.

  “Drunk, well, apart from Sam, but you know he isn’t like the rest of them.” I nod, knowing what he means. Sam knows his limits.

  “Thanks. Right, we better get started. Have fun watching us clean this dump,” I joke.

  “Don’t worry, we will.” Gavin crosses his arms and winks at me.

  I stick my tongue out at him and he gives me another wink then waggles his eyebrows at me, which I scoff at, heading to the kitchen. Each step I take, I wish I didn’t as the house seems to get worse, the farther I walk in.

  “I know rockstars are meant to be badass and shit, but fuck me, people can be such pigs. This is someone’s home and they show no respect for it.” Naomi sticks up her nose at the stale smell of the place.

  “I know what you mean.” I look at the sink and almost start gagging when I see yellow liquid. I’m praying to the gods it
’s not what I think it is. I’m so getting my sister to give me and Naomi a money bonus for this shit. I still need to speak to her about paying me.

  “Are you okay to start as I go check to make sure the guys are in bed okay?” They are grownups, but I have found them lying in their sickness, face down on the floor in their bedrooms. I’ve seen it all.

  I’m surprised I’m not scarred.

  “Okay, you go do your thing. I’m going to start in the living room. It stinks in here.” She heads to the closet, grabbing cleaning supplies before walking away.

  I look around the kitchen that is normally pearl white clean, by seeing at it now you’d think we lived in a drug den or something. Walking out of the room, I head toward the grand staircase, pictures of the band hanging on the walls as well as some expensive artwork.

  Heading to Troy’s room first, the bass player of the band, I hear moans and groans when I get closer to his door.

  Why am I not surprised?

  Troy always has a girl in his bed when they aren’t on tour. Troy is the womanizer of the band. The guy my best friend also has the hugest crush on. I shake my head, then decide to head to Tegan’s room next, my older sister. Pressing my ear to her door to make sure I don’t walk in on my sister getting some, I push it open and see her fully dressed sprawled on the bed.

  “Tegan.” I nudge her shoulder, but she hardly stirs. I take off her boots and skinny jeans, placing them neatly on her chair in the corner of her room. Her room just like the rest of the bedrooms in this place look basically the same.

  Huge bed against the main wall, opposite a fifty-inch TV mounted on the wall. A vanity desk near the long, huge window. A door near the TV that leads to the closet that looks more like another bedroom full of clothes and shoes. A few guitars lean against one wall.

  The room is bare, though, apart from a photo of our family. A picture that was taken of me, Tegan, and our parents before they died. Tegan was eighteen as I was fourteen, leaving Tegan to be my legal guardian.

  Tegan didn’t have to look after me. She could have said no. We were never that close, but she kept me at her side. She paid for my college tuition, so to show my thanks I became her PA.

  I grew up with her band. I know every song, word for word.

  Taking off Tegan’s shirt and placing her in bed, I feel like I just did a workout. Fanning myself, I place her shirt with her pants and tuck her in, her breathing coming in slow and steady. I tuck some of her hair behind her ear. I will admit she can be a grade A bitch, but she is my sister and I love her. I take a deep breath standing, closing the curtains before leaving, then shutting the door behind me.

  I check in on Sam, the drummer, and he is in bed, alone. Sam is more responsible than the others, so I don’t really worry about him.

  Knowing who I am going to visit next, I have to hold my stomach to stop the butterflies from forming. I pray to the Gods that he is alone. Ever since I first laid eyes on Nathanial Knight, the lead singer, I’ve had the hugest crush on him. I can’t be around him without my body heating up. If his skin ever touches mine I turn into a puddle of mush. The worse thing is, the older he has got, the more godlike he has become. Every time I hear him sing, I swear I feel like he is singing straight into my soul.

  He is like any rock star. Music is his life, and the parties and girls are just an extra bonus to him. Girls throw themselves at his feet, begging him to be with them just once.

  But who wouldn’t, though?

  If I knew I had a chance I would do the same.

  When I turn around the corner I see him sitting on the floor near his bedroom door and I can’t help but giggle. He never makes it to his room half the time. I approach him quickly and bend down, putting his arm around my neck, helping him stand, and when his eyes open and connect with mine, I almost gasp.

  Seeing his light blue eyes is like drowning in the ocean.

  You can get lost in them.

  He smiles at me, leaning more into me as I help him into his room. “I missed you,” he slurs into my ear. “You haven’t visited me in so long.”

  I lay him on his bed, taking off his shoes and socks.

  “You saw me yesterday,” I tell him and he shakes his head from side to side.

  “I don’t like it when you leave me.”

  I look up at him and his eyes are on me. I push some of his light brown hair away from his eyes, my fingers lingering on his cheek. He leans into my touch.

  “I would never leave you.” I bite my lip as I hesitate to take off his pants. What if he is going commando? “Nate, you wearing any underwear?” I say with a shaky voice.

  “You will have to find out.” He winks at me.

  I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but smile at his playfulness. I know it’s wrong, but I like him when he is drunk. He isn’t as serious, and he talks to me. He says hi and stuff when he’s sober, but it’s different when he’s drunk.

  When he’s sober I’m invisible.

  He looks straight through me.

  “I guess we are leaving your pants on.” I lean forward and start undoing the buttons on his shirt and when I get to the last one, he pulls me so I lie on top of him, his hands holding on to my upper arms.

  “You are no fun,” he whispers. “I missed you.” He tucks some of my hair behind my ear. “Sleep next to me.”

  I look from him to the door, hesitating. I would love to sleep next to him, but I know I shouldn’t. Naomi would come find me soon.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say breathlessly.

  “I know you’ll leave me soon. I would never take advantage of something so pure.” He cups my cheek. This time I lean into his touch. I know it’s the alcohol talking. It’s always the alcohol talking.

  “You will see me tomorrow,” I reassure him.

  He shakes his head again. “You won’t.” He pauses. “Please.” He looks up at me with those broken, sad eyes.

  “Okay,” I whisper and he moves so I’m lying next to him and he lies behind, spooning me. I know this isn’t helping me. I know I should just walk away, but being in his arms, it’s a place I don’t ever want to leave.

  I can enjoy this for a little while.

  When I hear his breathing go steady, I know he has fallen asleep. I continue lying there for another few minutes before standing up. I face him and notice his hand moving like he is trying to find me. His face looks sad.

  I close his curtains and leave, heading to my room to make sure it’s untouched, and it is. I head back downstairs and thoughts of Nate’s arms around me flash through my head.

  How am I meant to get over my crush when he does things like this?

  He does it when he’s drunk. It doesn’t count. My head mocks me. He will be sleeping with some girl tomorrow.

  I walk to the living room where Naomi is putting empty bottles and rubbish in black trash bags. I’m even more tired now. I just want to tidy this place up and fall into a dreamless sleep.

  “I’ll start with the kitchen.”

  Naomi jumps, seeing me. “Girl, you need to wear a bell.” We both laugh. “How’s the band?”

  “They are all in bed. Had to help Nate and my sister into theirs, though.”

  “Bet you enjoyed helping Nate out.” She smirks at me. I throw an empty red cup at her. “So, was he all nice to you?”

  I sigh and she shakes her head.

  “That boy can be such a dick.”

  “Alcohol makes him nicer.” I defend him.

  “Still, though, it messes with you. You get more attached.” She walks over to me. “Just don’t think about it. I know you will be thinking constantly about whatever happened, but don’t.”

  Easier said than done. “I’ll try.”

  “I think we need some music on.” Naomi heads over to the music system.

  “Naomi, you may wake everyone up.” I bite my lip.

  “They are dead to the world. This place could be getting robbed and they wouldn’t wake up for shit.” She starts press
ing some buttons. Naomi is a roadie for the band. I was so happy when the band hired her as we became close straight away.

  She is very attractive with her shoulder-length black hair, tanned skin, curvaceous body. With the confidence in tow, it makes her even sexier. She says what’s on her mind and is so down to earth. I’m rocking back and forth on my feet, but I stop when “Tik Tok” by Kesha starts to play.

  She knows me too well.

  She starts singing and walks slowly toward me and after a minute the song consumes me and I sing along with her, cleaning up and dancing as we do. This song is so catchy that once it’s on you have to dance and sing.

  Soon the cleaning goes to a halt as we stop to dance along to the song. We sing louder, jumping up and down, moving our hips, going with the flow. The song goes slower and we move our hips slowly until the chorus comes back on again and we sing with everything we have.

  When the song ends it’s like we’ve had a boost of energy run through our veins. Katrina and the Waves’s “Sunshine” comes on next and we get back to cleaning up. With the song playing, it makes the job at hand less nasty.

  I head to the kitchen, singing along as I put on some rubber gloves and get to work. This is what it was like for the next hour or so. Each song that was played filled us with enough energy to clean the entire downstairs. Putting the trash bags outside and spraying each room with air freshener, you wouldn’t think a party was held here.

  Livin’ Joy’s “Dreamer” comes on. Naomi grabs my hand, spinning me around as we sing the words, knowing this is the last song of the night. Well, morning. I notice Rich and Gav have watched us as we worked, sang, and danced.

  They know we love music. They’ve said multiple times how entertaining we are.