“Jay,” Reed said.
“What?” I asked. “That’s exactly what I did.”
“I called Toby,” Nash said. “Thankfully the show we played was getting so much buzz, we were suddenly very important to keep alive and safe.”
“Damn,” Dex said. “When we said we were in Reno… he lost his mind…”
“Toby always loses his mind,” Sab said.
“So what did you do then?” Abby asked.
“We beat the shit out of the guy that brought us there,” I said. “Then we took his SUV and started to drive back toward Vegas. Toby eventually met us. So we ditched the SUV and got into Toby’s SUV.”
“And you just left the other vehicle on the side of the road?” Liv asked.
“Yeah,” Nash said. “What was the guy going to do about it? He basically kidnapped us.”
“Kidnapping sounds weak,” Reed said.
“It’s true,” Sab said. “He dangled women in front of us like some creeper with candy in a white van.”
“All I hear is that you guys were dumb enough to fall for it,” Abby said.
We all laughed again, including Nash this time.
I looked out the window and counted all the beautiful women.
All the flashing signs.
The good thing about Vegas was we were there for one night only.
We were going straight to the venue for a sound check, and we were staying there.
We had some press to take care of.
Then we could drink, get loose, and play a great show.
Nothing less, nothing more.
“Oh, look, you two should get married while we’re here,” I said to Nash and Liv as we passed by one of the many wedding chapels.
“What do you think?” Nash asked Liv.
“I think I’m not some Line Whore,” Liv said as she patted his chest.
“I think she just told me no,” Nash said.
“I think she just told you to go fuck yourself,” Sab said.
“Bingo,” Liv said.
“What’s wrong with a Vegas wedding?” I asked. “You skip all the bullshit of the wedding and get to the good stuff.”
“What the hell do you know about a wedding?” Dex asked. “You don’t even believe in relationships.”
“Yes, I do,” I said. “There are different kinds of relationships.”
“Stop,” Reed said. “We don’t need the big speech that your version of a relationship is based on hours or minutes or whatever you have to offer.”
The limo pulled into the venue.
As what always happened, there were diehard FILTHY LINE fans waiting behind the gates.
People lined up hours in advance, hoping to catch any sight of the band. Or see us up close. Or get an autograph.
I looked at Nash.
He nodded.
I motioned with my head to Reed.
He reached back and told the driver to stop.
There was one thing we always said… we were somewhere in Michigan one night. Pulled over on the side of the road because our shitty first tour van had broken down. It was winter. It was cold. We were freezing our asses off waiting for roadside assistance.
We told ourselves that soon enough we’d be in a big, luxury tour bus. With booze, drugs, and women.
We made an agreement that we would never forget about the fans.
I opened the door to the limo and climbed out.
The second someone saw me, it was nothing but screams and cheers.
Sab opened the other side of the limo.
The entire band got out.
The screams got louder.
Everyone had their phone out, taking pictures and videos.
I shook my head, wondering how many of these fans were streaming this live on their phones.
That was the hard part of being a rock star these days. There was no more legacy of a story that could be told and changed over time.
Videos were everywhere. Live videos were everywhere.
There was no chance to edit anything.
We approached the gate as they fans screamed louder and louder.
So I screamed back.
When I did, half of the fans shut up and the other half started to laugh.
“We’re here because of you,” I said. “No need to scream if you’re fully clothed.”
“I’ll have your baby, Jay!” someone yelled.
“We can try!” I yelled back.
“We love you all!” another person yelled.
Sab pretended to start crying. “We love you too… so much…”
There were maybe twenty fans there.
So it was casual. Intimate.
But we knew how this went.
Everyone was texting all their friends. Which meant we had about five minutes until more fans showed up.
We signed everything from posters to bras.
We took selfies.
One wild woman had the band’s logo tattooed on her left breast.
She covered her nipple with her pointer and middle fingers of her left hand while I rested my head to her nice, full breast as she took a picture.
Then some guy insisted that we autograph his back and that he was going right to a tattoo shop to get ink over the signatures.
“You know, bro,” I said as I signed my name. “I could draw a dick on your back right now. And then you’d run off and get that inked.”
“Worth it,” the guy said. “I fucking followed you guys on your first tour. Every fucking stop, man. Every fucking show.”
“You’re a good man,” I said.
“We have to get moving,” Nash said.
More people were starting to show up.
We all gave one last wave and went back to the limo.
The fans cheered us away.
There was only one thing in the world that gave me that same sense of a high.
And it wasn’t drugs.
It was a woman willing to throw caution to the wind.
Sound check was done.
The press bullshit was done.
We answered the same ten questions over and over with the same bouncy, happy answers as always.
At least there was whiskey to help.
We still had a few hours until the show began.
I was starting to get antsy.
Sometimes just sitting around, waiting for a show to start was the worst part.
Backstage, I had everything I could ask for to keep myself distracted.
That even included some beautiful women walking around in what looked like skimpy bikinis.
I winked, clicked my tongue at each one, and already began to plot out the rest of my night.
When we were done with the show, we were going to some after party event. Just to enjoy the night in Vegas, have fun, but more so, it was a chance for Toby to have people with money show up. As much as we hated it, it was part of the gig.
After the party, we were to go to a hotel to catch some sleep.
Then we’d wake up and fly out of Vegas back to LA to get ready for our next flight to the next show.
The rock star life was wild. There was no doubting that. But sometimes when things were scheduled down to the minute, it was boring.
There was no sense of adventure or thrill.
For guys like Nash, Dex, and Reed, they didn’t mind. They had their women with them. These quiet moments between the action, they had someone to talk to. To hold. To kiss. To fuck.
I grabbed my cup of whiskey and drank.
I smacked my lips together.
I saw Toby rushing toward me.
He didn’t look all that happy.
Great.
I looked around, realizing I was the only one in the band he could find.
“Whatever it is, I don’t know,” I said.
“I want to talk about Mitchy,” he said.
“I don’t.”
“I don’t care,” he said. “What’s going on with him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Jay… there’s a lot at risk here,” he said.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said again.
“Hey,” Toby snapped at me. “He’s in your beach house. What do you think he’s doing there?”
“I know,” I said.
“Something goes wrong, it’ll fall on you and the band,” Toby said. “That includes me. The last thing we need is some hooker dead in your beach house. No matter who was there or not. It’ll paint you as some kind of…”
“That’s what I am then,” I said. “I’m a rock star.”
“This isn’t a joke, Jay.”
“I’ll handle it,” I said. “The guy wanted to speak his piece. He did. We did.”
“Now what?” Toby asked. “Is he coming out on tour?”
“No. Not even close.”
Toby ran a hand through his hair. “You know, this is all a mess, Jay. But at the same time… what if he joined the band again? It would be like a reunion, right? All eyes would be on you guys. More than it already is.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” I said.
“Just putting all the offers out there,” Toby said.
I walked away from him because I felt like knocking his ass down.
I went into my backstage room where there were stacked bottles of whiskey, a bag of white pills, three guitars, and two amps.
There was a mirror that I looked at myself in.
Were any of us better than Mitchy?
The problem with Mitchy was that he took it too far. He would pass out on stage. He would throw up on stage. He wouldn’t forget his parts… he’d get angry and trash the stage. One night we were two songs into a show and he put his keyboard through Sab’s bass drum.
Then he would pick fights. With anyone. Even us in the band.
And the partying never stopped.
He would go for five days straight. He’d lose weight because he wouldn’t eat. He’d be so strung out, he was like a mixture of a zombie and a ghost.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
I grabbed a guitar and sat down.
I ran through some of my warm up riffs just to clear my mind.
My door opened and Sab walked in.
“I guess it’s just us partying,” I said. “The others are out sightseeing I’m sure.”
“Our band is evolving again,” Sab said. “Hey. Did Toby ask you about Mitchy?”
“Yeah.”
“Did he really suggest Mitchy join the band again?”
I nodded. “He’s a greedy fuck.”
Sab grabbed a bottle of whiskey and twisted off the cap. “What are we going to do?”
I hugged my guitar. “As much as I hate to say it, we have to let legal shit work itself out. Take out our feelings. He made this decision, Sab. Not me. Not you. He made this all happen.”
Sab lifted the bag of white pills and laughed. “Did he though?”
“We know when to turn it on and off,” I said.
The door opened again and in came four women.
All in bikinis.
Just different colors.
Red, Orange, Yellow, and Purple.
They were nothing better than a horny rainbow.
I smiled and put my guitar down.
“Want to come find my pot of gold?” I asked.
The woman in the orange walked to me and grabbed my face with force.
“I have the pot of gold,” she said.
“I don’t know what that means,” I said. “But I’m down with it.”
“You just sit there and watch,” she said.
“Jay, you need a drink?” Sab called out.
“Yup,” I said.
The woman in the orange reached back and untied the top of her bikini.
Down it went.
Out popped a beautiful set of fake tits.
I put my left hand out and caught the bottle of whiskey Sab threw.
I didn’t have to look to catch it.
I twisted the cap off and the woman in orange grabbed it from me.
“Let me do it,” she said.
She leaned forward and put her head back.
She tipped the whiskey bottle and poured it to her chest.
The whiskey ran everywhere, down both tits, and I hung under her, mouth open, moving left to right to drink as much as I could.
Now this was the way to kill time before a show.
6
WREN
We all let out a collective gasp when Nia opened the door to the suite.
It wasn’t a hotel room.
It was a suite.
Lola hooked her arm into mine and we walked into the suite with smiles on our faces.
I could easily forget about the wedding stuff for a little bit with the view I had.
“How much did this cost?” Audrey asked.
“Who cares?” Nia threw back. “We’re saving a ton on not having a big wedding. Plus, Jack paid for it all. He wanted to spoil me. To spoil us.”
“Wait,” I said. “If this is your room…”
“Nope,” Nia said. “I’m just going to get ready here. He got us a honeymoon suite one floor up.”
“Is this guy made of money?” Lola asked.
“Does he have a brother?” I asked.
“Oh, yay, I like that,” Audrey said. “Let’s get Nia married and then find Wren a man.”
“In Vegas?” I asked. “What kind of relationship am I going to find here?” I looked at Nia. “No offense.”
“None taken,” she said. “I didn’t meet Jack here.”
“Drinks!” Lola said to break up any possible tension.
The room had a living room area. A dining room area. An open kitchen.
And then two bedrooms.
It was that freaking big.
I walked to the floor to ceiling windows and looked down at the city.
It was just starting to get dark, even though I knew the city itself wasn’t going to be dark. The lights were only going to get brighter as the night moved on.
“Here, take this,” Audrey said to me.
She handed me a tall, skinny glass.
“Are you okay?” she asked me.
“I’m perfect,” I said. “I love this view.”
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Lola said. “To our girl, Nia…”
We all let out a horrible sounding woo sound.
“She’s been wild and fierce her entire life,” Lola said. “And now she’s getting married. She’s settling down. But we know she won’t actually settle. She’s going to take poor Jack to the edge and back. And together…” Lola looked at Nia. “Together, they’re going to have an amazing life. An amazing love story to tell. No matter how fast and fun, they’re honest with themselves. For that, we can all be happy.”
“Oh, Lola,” Nia said. “Fuck. I’m going to cry.”
“To Nia,” I said. “I love you. I’m happy for you. You’re brave enough to know what you want and to go and get it. That’s the way you’ve always been.”
“To Nia,” Audrey said. “At least I don’t have to take your sloppy morning after calls when you’re on the walk of shame, crying…”
“Oh, shut up,” Nia said.
We all laughed.
We clanked our glasses together.
And we drank champagne.
To get through this night and my jealousy… I needed something stronger.
I was mildly drunk.
I looked around the bright wedding chapel and rolled my eyes for the hundredth time already.
I looked at the shelf of merchandise.
Audrey looked at me and we both started to giggle.
It was defiantly tacky as hell to see some of the items.
But Nia and Jack were dead serious about it all.
They were at the counter, finalizing their wedding.
“I think we have to go sit and wait now,” Lola said.
“Shouldn’t we help her get ready?” I asked.
“She is ready,
” Audrey said.
Nia was dressed… like Nia would dress for her own wedding.
She didn’t have a wedding gown.
But she wore a white dress.
It looked painted on her body.
No offense to her but I could see the crack of her ass through the dress.
Her heels were a mile high, making her almost taller than Jack.
She did have a veil though.
“She looks like she belongs in a music video,” I said. “You know?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Lola said. “She’s super-hot though.”
“Of course she is,” I said. “She knows who she is. I’m happy for her.”
“We all are,” Audrey said. “And if it blows up in her face, we’ll be there. No jealousy allowed, right?”
“Who’s jealous?” Lola asked. “We’re married.”
“I’m not,” I said.
Lola looked at me. “Oh. Right.”
“Speaking of music videos,” Audrey said. “I saw a sign for a concert. It’s probably going on right now. FILTHY LINE.”
“Nice,” Lola said. “Imagine seeing them in Vegas…”
“We could make the show,” I said. “They’ll be married soon enough.”
“Are you trying to be adventurous, Wren?” Audrey teased.
“Blame the alcohol,” I said.
“Well, let’s see what happens,” Audrey said.
“First, we have to watch Nia get married,” Lola said.
Nia looked back at us, smiled and waved.
We all waved back.
Seriously, I was happy for her.
And I did hate myself for feeling jealous.
And I knew I was in the wrong place to be thinking wild thoughts.
Nia and Jack faced each other.
Everything was so cliché and over the top, it was hard not to laugh.
It helped that Nia and Jack were able to laugh at themselves.
I had to admit that having a wedding like this was very casual. We could laugh. Call out stories. Make fun of each other.
When it was asked for anyone to speak up, we all raised our hands.
“You bitches better shut up,” Nia said. “Jack thinks I’m a good girl.”
“Are you sure about this, Jack?” Lola asked.
Everyone laughed.
Then came the moment they were to be married.
The official words and declaration of it.
A FILTHY Marriage (Filthy Line Book 4) Page 5