Taming the Rocker Chick

CHAPTER IX EVERYBODY WAS KUNG FU FIGHTING

As we reach the bar I saw Kaleb seated comfortably at one of the stools, chatting idly with the bartender. I gave Nate a quick glance and his reaction was just what I expected. His face contorted into a thousand folds and I could almost see smoke coming out of his ears.

“What the fuck is that asshole still doing here?” Nate growled, seething with anger.

“Who, bro?” Blake asked, all the while checking out chicks at a nearby table.

I interjected before Nate could launch into another fit. “Easy, tiger. He has every right to be here. Plus, he is your brother and last time I checked, he also owns this place as much as you do.”

Blake turned his full attention to me and with a bewildered look etched in his face, he asked me “Who, bro?”

I ignored him and continued on calming Nate down as he was about to pounce on Kaleb. “Nate. Calm the fuck down. Don't make a scene. That could affect our chances at winning.”

Kaleb made a beeline in our direction and smiled warmly at all of us. “Great show guys! And hey, Jo, I didn't know you could sing! That was an amazing performance!”

Okay, so how this guy could be so unaware with Nate practically putting a death curse on him is beyond me. I gave him a strange look but he just kept on smiling, twinkling his eyes even.

“Who, bro?” Blake asked for the third time, referring to the gorgeous stranger holding his outstretched hand for any of us to shake. After a moment of hesitation, he took Kaleb's hand and shook it vigorously. “And who might you be, dear sir? One of the judges, I hope? No, a famous music producer? Oh, I know! A well-renowned  talent scout! I thought you look familiar.”

I had the sudden urge to do a facepalm but controlled myself. I cleared my throat and launched into a lengthy introduction. “Kaleb, meet Blake. Our drummer and fellow classmate at Ellewood High. Blake, Kaleb. Nate and Kaleb are err... brothers.” I spoke the last word like it was a forbidden thing to say and a stunned silence ensued.

Blake nodded knowingly and after a minute of silent deliberation, he slapped Nate on the back and exclaimed, “Dude, you're secretive as fuck, man! Who'd have thought you're related to an executive produce. Dude, that's awesome!” Turning his attention to Kaleb, he said, “So, dear sir. Are we in? What are we talking here, about six figures? Where do we sign?”

It was my turn to whack him so hard on the back, the poor guy choked. “What the hell was that for?” He cried, coughing exaggeratedly.

“Blake, can you please stop acting like the retarded fuck that you are and just shut up? Kaleb is not a producer nor is he a talent scout. He is just Nate's brother, plain and simple. There's just this slight problem of theirs called “not talking to each other for seven fucking years”.

Another stunned silence.

Realization dawned on Blake's stupid face and he nodded for the umpteenth time that night. “Well, if that isn't awkward, I don't know what is.”

KALEB'S POV

After the awkward introduction, I ushered them at a secluded area of the bar, careful not to provoke Nate even more, as he was growling and muttering swears and curses while Jo was busy consoling him.

“So, Nate! How's this experience so far? I heard you play man, and I admit, you got a lot better.” I said, breaking the silence. I turned to Jo and joked, “When we were younger, I used to beat him at Guitar Hero and he would just pout all day.”

Nate grunted and said something like I don't give a rat's ass. Jo gave me and apologetic look and I shrugged, as if to say it's nothing.

Blake, their buffed drummer, was downing his third bottle of beer which amazed me to no end considering we just sat down for like, five minutes.