Who Is Lucas Ryker O'Riley?

51. A SPECIAL DEAL FOR NEIGHBORS

As we entered Beck's house, she told me she wouldn't keep me too long, so I could hang out with Lisa.

Beck said she had to get a load of laundry out of the washer right quick and put it in the dryer. While she did that she asked me to take her bag upstairs to the first room on the right.

I headed up and she headed to the laundry room.

Entering Beck's room, I set her bag down on the dresser and began to look around her room appreciating the expensive furniture and decor.

I began to look at all the photos she had posted on a collage board next to her dresser. There was a photo of her in a long, dark blue prom dress with a guy, one of her in her high school graduation gown with another guy, a photo of her at a party with her arms around two more guys, one on either side of her, then a photo of her at a restaurant with even another guy. There were several photos of just guys, most of them buff and tan, two of them shirtless and ripped as well. Another photo was of her zip-lining, but that was just her, no guys.

Then one particularly amazing photo caught my eye.

I had just leaned in to get a closer look at the photo, which was of her in a micro-bikini on the beach with the same guy as her graduation photo, when I began to hear what sounded like some of the sweetest acoustic guitar playing I'd ever heard.

It was so intericate it sounded almost as if there were two guitars being played together.

Stepping out into the hall, I listened for where the music was coming from and quietly heading in that direction.

Finding the source, I peered into the room from outside the door which was only slightly ajar.

Inside, playing the guitar was that same guy I had seen the other day.

So this was Brandon, Beck's brother, the guy who played in a band, drove a black Camero, dressed in black, and according to Beck, only pretended to be tough.

Quietly watching from outside his room, I was amazed by how his fingers so quickly and dexterously danced their way around the fretboard of a double-neck acoustic guitar, one six-string and the other, eight-string. No wonder it sounded like there was more than one guitar playing.

As I continued to eavesdrop on Brandon playing, I thought I vaguely recognized the music from a song I'd heard before, but something told me the song wasn't originally acoustic.

Just as the notes of the song seemed to be combining and rising to its most dramatic part, the music suddenly stopped and he looked right at me.

"Hey, you a friend of Becka's?" he confidently asked, peering back at me through the slightly open door.

"Sorry. Hi," I responded demurly. I could feel my cheeks turning red.

He motioned for me to come in. I pushed the door open further and tried to explain as I entered.

"I-I was I was just putting a bag in Beck's ro-"

"It's okay, relax. What's your name," he smoothly asked, interrupting me.

"I -I'm Carla. My family and friends call me, well . . . Carla." I nervously answered, with an attempt at humor.

"Nice to meet you, Carla. I'm Brandon, with a B," Brandon proclaimed, returning the joke.

"Hi, Brandon. . . I uh, I really liked your guitar playing. I think I recognize that song. What was it?"

With an understated grin, Brandon replied, "Well it depends on what decade and obscure style of music you listen to. If it's 80's hardcore punk or thrash metal, maybe you have heard it, but what are the chances? It's my acoustic version of an SOD song, 'Hypnotize'. My band's lead singer wants to try playing a couple SOD songs arranged as acoustic ballads, at our next show."