Dangerous [Bradley Simpson] Sequel to On the Floor (novella)

Chapter Five - Shiny

Even in the days after Brad's arrival, I replayed the sound of his voice in my head. The soothing vibrations of his brummie accent would lull me to sleep, and even keep out the nightmares. But, the sound began to fade from my memory all too soon. I couldn't bear to lose it again, but how I planned on hearing it once more, I did not know.

I wanted to see him. I wanted to caress his skin and kiss his lips again. I missed the smell of his morning musk lingering on the bedsheets, and the way I would catch him watching me sleep.

James never said anything about it to me, but the others knew. Tristan was the first to talk to me, which wasn't surprising. He was the most talkative one, not to mention he couldn't keep secrets very well. The fact that he hadn't told Brad I was back was quite a shock for all of us.

"So Brad came over, huh?" He said one way, while we were walking to the nearest coffee shop.

I nodded, staring down at my shuffling feet.

"Did you see him?" He asked.

"No," I said. "I don't know if I'm ready for that."

"He misses you." Tristan spoke softly.

"I know," I mumbled. "I miss him too. But I need to focus on the task at hand first. Then maybe I can see him."

"Hopefully before the wedding," he sighed. "I think seeing you is the only way he won't go through with it."

"Why is he marrying her if he's so miserable?" I asked.

"She's the next best thing, I suppose." He shrugged.

"Who is she?" I murmured.

"I don't think I'm the right person to tell you." He said. "You'll know soon enough.

"I hope so," I whispered to myself.

We walked into the coffee shop and ordered our drinks, then sat down at a large corner booth

"James and Con should be here soon." Tristan spoke, intertwining his hands behind his bead.

"Connor's coming?" I questioned. "So does that mean he's not angry at me anymore?"

"We talked to him about it. I doubt he's totally on board, but it's a start." He explained.

Shortly after our drinks were finished, the other two arrived and sat down with us.

"Start with what you know," James said. "Anything about her that you remember will help."

"She was a fan of mine." I spoke. "She would always tweet me, almost every day."

"Well that's great." James said. "Shouldn't be difficult to track her down."

"It could have been a fake account." Connor spoke.

"It is," I nodded.

"Wait," Tristan leaned forward. "We can track the IP address. We just need a hacker."

"How can we find one we can trust?" I asked.

"Easy," Connor smiled. "Dean."

With Dean on the virtual search, and the somewhat approval from Connor, the boys decided to celebrate. And so, the debate between staying at him to jam together with some beers and pizza or going out to the bar began. Staying home (thankfully) won. We grabbed our guitars, and Tristan took James' bongo drums, and together we played tunes by The Beatles and Led Zeppelin alike.

"Brad texted me." Connor said, looking up from his phone.

My eyes shot up at the sound of his name. "What for?"

"He wants to come over."

"Well, Adelaide is hanging out with us, he'll have to come another night." James said.

"No, it's okay." I shrugged. Finally, I would be able to hear his voice again. "I was about to go to bed anyway."

"At 9:30?" Tristan asked.

I nodded, "I haven't been sleeping well. It's catching up to me."

"Oh, okay." Tristan said. "Goodnight."

The other two mumbled their goodnights, and I retreated to my dark room, where the moon was creating ominous shadows around the room. Quietly, I slipped into my pajamas, and sat down next to the door, cracking it slightly. I could hear the three boys playing a tune by Bob Dylan, but I soon fell victim to the lullaby, before Brad even arrived.

I hadn't stirred awake one, despite their rowdy nature, until I heard voices right outside my door.

"Sorry mate, you don't want to go in there." I heard James say. "I've been using it for storage, you can barely walk."

"What's the point in having a guest room if your guests can't sleep there?" Brad's voice floated into my room, jolting me upright.

"Piss off," James chuckled. "Go on in the living room, I'll get a blanket and pillows."

After Brad walked away, James pushed open my door, shutting it behind him with haste.

"He's spending the night?" I whispered.

"Jesus," he jumped, spinning around. "Stop doing that!"

"Is he?" I asked.

"Yes," James said. "Don't even think about sneaking out to see him. He doesn't sleep well, he'll either see you or hear you."

I watched James grab the spare bedding out of the closet before turning to give me a stern look.

"Promise me."

"James," I sighed. "I'm not stupid. I know what one look would do to me. I'll stay put."

"Thank you," he said. "Get some rest."

And with the click of the door closing behind him, I was left alone once again.

"Just got off the phone with Dean." Connor called out from the foyer, rushing into the kitchen.

"And?" I said.

"The IP address was shut off in 2016, but before then it was centralized somewhere in South Kensington." He explained. "There was a credit card linked to the account in the name of Alfie Coolwater. He's 81 and he has a shiny head."

"Probably stolen," James shrugged. "Now what?"

"That name," I began pacing. "I know that name."

"You do?" They both asked.

"I'm going to need your laptop, James."