My hot muse, BA and I will be getting back together soon, In the meantime, here is a little snip from my abandoned WIP.
I this scene, you see him in his other profession before he slips into secret agent mode.
“Nope, nope.” Salvi Johann, screamed at the top of his lungs. “That just ain’t right. I told you I like this melody better.” He began to strum on his guitar.
Darien Moseley rolled his eyes and shook his head. He really loved being in the band, but all their insane changes irked him. They were his best friends though, other than Kimball and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.
“Fuck, is anything ever good for you,” Ira Passe, smirked. He turned his attention back to Darien. “Hey, yo Dari, chime in and tell this fucker the note works. Just needs a little adjusting.”
Darien sighed and stomped his foot. “Look, I ain’t gettin’ in the middle of you two’s fight right now. I don’t have the energy. Its only one flippin’ note. Let’s just decide on this already, okay?” The drummer tapped the head of his drum with the stick before stepping on the pedal. He counted with the sticks, “One, two, three,” and started playing their latest tune, Fainted.
Being in the jazz outfit, Muse, gave him the freedom to come and go as he pleased. No one knew his actual spy alias, BA Pointe, except for those in the organization.
To keyboardist/guitarist, Ira and bassist, Salvi, Darien is only their best bud, who had an ear for great music and unlimited talent. They’d known each other for years, forming Muse right after they finished middle school. The jazz quartet, always known as more of a local band, made pretty good money and released all the albums on their own label Musictime.
Darien always insisted they stay somewhat small so he’d protect his cover. The two of them thought he only wanted that because he was shy; that’s the excuse he used anyway.
Salvi and Ira managed to follow Darien’s lead, hitting all the notes in tune for their next show at a small club in Brooklyn called, Ned’s House. They were about to release their new EP and were in the midst of performing a new song they’d be including on that recording.
While he banged on the drums, he felt his phone vibrate on his hip. It tickled and he couldn’t stop to answer since he continued his parts.
Darien knew who rang. He smiled, thinking to himself how great it would be to get out in the field again and away from Salvi and Ira who weren’t just his band mates and friends. The two were lovers who always fought in and out of the bedroom.
The timing totally worked perfectly; he’d be going on assignment, working with Kimball again who he hadn’t seen in a couple of weeks, as well as a chance to meet the dignitary’s son but only if he decided to join his father in New York.
Salvi and Ira could continue to promote and distribute the album while he tried his best to find out more about Nikolay Chereskov and do the job he loved almost as much as drumming.
When he went on these missions, he always referred to a family member or “partner” that he’d be spending time with. Since they were both so into themselves and one another, they never questioned him on it.
The moment he finished, he ran out the room, wiping his head with a towel and drinking a bottle of water. He told the guys he’d be taking a personal call and may take more than just a few minutes to do so.
He locked the door behind him and plopped on the couch, dialing the Chief back. “Yeah, boss. I know, you want me to…”
Chief cleared his throat to interrupt. “Darien, there’s been a change of plans. I need you at the meeting’s site right away.”
Darien finished his beverage. “What? Why…I’m…”
“Alexander’s been murdered! Now please, you need to be here so I can talk with you and Kimball.”
He gulped hard and squeezed the plastic. “I’m on my way.” Quickly, he pressed the button and threw the rag on the couch. “Ira, Salvi, I got an emergency. I gotta go!” The agent didn’t wait to answer his two friends. He knew he’d have more explaining to do when he got back but for now, he had to follow orders.
The drive over to the empty warehouse on the other side of Manhattan normally took an hour but the urgency of the manner caused Darien to speed up. The New York police knew not to stop the black Jaguar for going over the speed limit; they had tried a couple of times but Darien always showed them his badges.
Quickly he parked behind what looked to be an abandoned building in the second space next to Kimball’s red Camaro. Despite this situation, Darien couldn’t help but smile, knowing he’d be seeing his best bud again.
Jogging up five steps, he pressed his code in and removed his identification card to place on the scanner. Immediately, it opened, to a posh, modern hallway, carpeted and decorated in black and gold, leading to a set of wooden doors. He opened them and right away, the eyes of the Chief, Kimball, and other top agent, Brenda met his.
“What’s up man?” Kimball got up from his seat. His long brown dreads trailed him as he hugged Darien tightly.
“Hey dude. Been missin’ ya!” Darien reciprocated and lay his head on Kimball’s shoulder. The smells of his cologne and hair products intoxicated the agent to the point of dizziness.