Strung along - The Dragon shifter's human mate

Jordan My fingers drum against the plastic of the black door handle. I think my mood has been getting darker and darker over the last few months. And tonight, I have hit a new low point. I’ve never really thought of myself as the domestic type. I still don’t. But this urge not to be by myself and so f**king alone the minute I get to my room after coffee with the family, has been amplified over the last year. It started well before three of my siblings found their significant others. Their bliss sure makes me happy, but it has also turned into something that settles like a boulder in my stomach when I give it too much thought. My solution is: f**k more, drink more, and think less. Not sure that is working all that well. So, for tonight, I have decided to focus on my goal: My music. Making it in this industry is a relative thing. I never believed other musicians when they said that just because people like your stuff, you have regular gigs, and even sell a few records doesn’t mean you hit pay dirt and can live off your hobby. We really can’t. ‘The Scales’ have had countless appearances in bars, pubs, and clubs in and around Baltimore, but Xavier, Hugo, and I couldn’t be further from being famous and making enough money to support ourselves. Hands why I still live with my parents. And why Xavier’s delivery van is our ride to this last-minute thing at ‘Ruby Red’s.’ Whenever I heard that name in the last three hours, my mind started repeatedly playing ‘Ruby Red’ by Slade. Humming, I drum the beat with my fingers against the van’s door. ‘Ruby, Ruby Well, I got some food if you’re in the mood, and the Montrachet’s on ice Let me satisfy your appetite with some coq au vin on rice. Oh, oh, oh, Ruby Red - Better use your ruby head….’ Why is it the worst kind of lyrics that just get stuck in your head? “Almost there, Jo.” Xavier turns back to me. Nodding, I pull out my phone, check the set list, and see a missed call from Khai. Looking at the road signs in passing, I see it’s at least ten more minutes till we get to the club— enough time to let my little brother pester me. Let’s see what he wants. Khai picks up after the first ring. Man, that boy sits on his phone. “The one and only dragon man! How is it going? Gig already started?” I roll my eyes at his cheery voice. We haven’t been performing anonymously for about a year now and have gained more traction thanks to it. So no dragon mask for me any longer. Guess looks do play into fame, huh? Who would have thought? I make it a point never to accept appearances at shifter-related events or venues. Insisting on obscuring our identity was another thing that didn’t get me the excitement and approval of my bandmates, but they understood. Whenever I go out after we play, I make sure to give the flies following me something to photograph, though. And the girls never actually mind. Definitely helped convince the non-shifter audience that we must be the SH*T. “Would I be calling if I was on stage?” I scratch the plastic door handle with my nail and turn the thick silver ring on my thumb. “Probably not.” And I can hear the smirk in Khai’s voice. “Why are you calling, squeaky?” My brother snorts, and I hear Hugo snicker from the passenger seat. “Was that Slater? Tell that little bigot he didn’t seem to hate my voice when he wanted me to scream his name last year.” “I will not do that.” Rubbing my hand over my face exasperatedly, I blow out a breath. Khai has been holding that drunk encounter over Hugo’s head for months. Everyone knows he’s bi, and I have no idea why he gets so touchy when it’s about him sleeping with my brother. Maybe it’s the idea of Khai being related to me. I’m not going to think about that further because, believe it or not, my brother's love life is not my favorite topic. Shaking my head to get rid of that thought, I focus on the minor white scratches I left. “OK, I will put you out of your misery. I just wanted to remind you of Greer’s birthday dinner the day after tomorrow and ask if you have any idea what to get him." I can hear him shuffle around paper. So, I'm not the only one who is still working. "Noe has been on my a** about this for two weeks now, and I keep telling her it will be ‘epic,’ but I have no idea what to get him.", my brother whines. "Seriously! I never have a problem finding a gift for any of you. I’m a great gift giver!” His agitated tone has my frayed nerves rebelling. My head has been killing me since this morning, and my palms are itching like crazy, forcing my restless fingers to move even more. “I’ll think of something.” Even my voice sounds hoarse now. And I know Khai has noticed as well when I hear him chuckle. “Wow, did you guys already start drinking?" I see him grin like the Cheshire cat in front of my inner eye. "How many 'Johnny Walkers' are that on your voice, Joe Cocker?” “None.”, I snap. And regret it right away. I love my family. I love my siblings. Sure, they get on my nerves, and I’ll often pretend to be exhausted by their sheer presence. Nevertheless, I genuinely couldn’t think of anyone better to spend any day with than them. I’d do anything for them and vice versa. “Sorry, Khai. I didn’t sleep well." I rub a hand over my face. "I’ll see what I can do. Don’t worry about it.” I sigh, trying to relieve the stabbing pain in my neck by rubbing circles over it with my thumb. “All good, Jo. It’s the blood moon talking." And you know it's bad when KHAI is the reasonable one. "You guys get cranky like Jade whenever ‘Aunt Flow’ comes to visit or when her heat hits and Killian is nowhere to be found." Fair point. "Luca has been throwing a tantrum for most of the afternoon. I’m not going to hold it against you….” Khai snickers. “OK, that’s a lie, I totally will.” “Oh, I trust me, I know,” I say absentmindedly. He’s right. Looking out the window, I eye the almost entirely risen moon. It’s supposed to be the one night our breed of dragon shifter can find their mate. I roll my eyes at the hopeful flicker of my fires. That weird inner compass that seems to only weigh in when it concerns the shifter side of my personality is something I still haven't gotten fully used to. It’s not my time yet, but how do I let that thing in my head know that? The outcome they want is highly unlikely. And the fact that both my Dad and Greer got so lucky is a thing many shifter-focused scientists would write home about. I say my 'goodbyes' to Khai and let him give me his little spiel of gasps, jokes, and fake tears, which we have all gotten used to over the years. Got to love him for it. And the repetition is what quiets my brain. The only time it is somewhat bearable to live in my head, not going to lie. We pull up to the flat building in the middle of nowhere, and Xavier swerves into a spot right at the back of it. The entrance is dimly lit, but you can still see the massive man checking IDs and putting credit cards on file. No one has to give their actual name to the dancers or other staff, and they're not allowed to save the data apart from the card that will be used to charge for whatever they get —lap dance to bar tap. We have been playing at places like this before. It’s a step up from the small town pubs with five patrons. But the visitors of this middle-class strip club that strives to appear high-end (the only reason they try to enhance their image with live music) are not going to be those who buy our music. This is honestly more like a paid, public band practice. After we leave the car, it’s time to unload our instruments and check everything for the hundredth time. Xavier flicks the bud of his cigarette against his van’s tire when a voice makes all of us look up. “Ahh, the entertainment just arrived. How are you fine boys doing this evening?” Ruby sounds and looks like you’d imagine a ‘madame’ would. Big lips, big t*ts, tight dress, and even tighter forehead. Botox be praised. With the fur drape over her shoulder, she genuinely looks nothing like the 50-something-year-old she must be. A caricature come to life. She gives us an open smile and waves for us to hurry up. “This way.” Her voice is fighting the good fight against alcohol and chain-smoking, about to lose any day now. Shoving all our equipment through the minuscule side entrance, I’m sweating for the first time tonight. And not the last. Because the inside is stuffier than a grandma’s den around Christmas in 10-degree weather. This way, the dancers need less body glitter— also a way to cut costs. I open two more buttons on my dark shirt and purposefully ignore Ruby, staring lasciviously at my chest. The side stage we are supposed to set up on is dark, while the one at the center, shaped like a pear, is lit up so bright I doubt the dancers even see the audience. Not necessary, though. You can hear them. I have to give Ruby that much: the acoustics are excellent in here. Every single moan, groan, or shout carries far and wide, and the busty brunette on stage smiles while her hips gyrate against the pole, and she draws the string to loosen her bikini top more and more. “Definitely a work environment I can get behind.”, Hugo muses beside me while staring at her. “Stop drooling and get the amp working.” The system is old, and since we can’t do a proper soundcheck, I want the only one with actual knowledge of that stuff focused. And not salivating over a pretty perfect a**. See? You can look and still do your job. Goddess, why are my palms sweating? I never have that many side effects during a blood moon, and today, of all days,… typical. I need this to pay for a full session at the studio downtown. Never in a million years would I use my parent’s money for that. This is supposed to be mine and mine alone. The first song I wrote and am going to record by myself since Hugo and Xavier usually do our vocals alternatingly. But first, I need to get through tonight. And the best way to do so is to get in the mood and finally have a little fun. I should really focus on tonight's plan: Watch the girls on stage, have a drink or two before we start, and then play my heart out. I can ignore my itchy hands for long enough. I CAN. Once we set everything up, I follow Hugo to the bar, the skin on my palms feeling less and less tight with every step I take. Ha, I told you I could have a good night!