I laugh to myself and shake my head as I type.
Ask Finn. See you soon. Airplane mode commencing.
I sit, and I write.
I look down at the paper, pretty content with myself. I haven’t worked something like this out in a year. Finn is the man behind the lyrics lately when it used to be my thing. Today, it all comes back.
I feel hands resting on my shoulders.
“How did you do?” she asks in the raspy tone I have admired for a few years now.
“Inspiration at its finest.”
“I see that.”
I look up and see she is looking at my notepad.
“No way, babe. This is mine.” I flip it over.
“And every time I hear it on the radio, I’ll think about what happened next.”
“Oh, yeah, not before?” I ask, pushing back in the wheeled chair and turning it so I am eye level to her jugs.
“I’ve seen you live in concert, Memphis. I know how well you perform, but your encore … Nothing beats that.”
“You ready to be rocked my way?”
“Rock me any way you want.”
And I did.
She didn’t stay over. I didn’t ask.
***
I spend the entire next day writing in the hotel room.
Two songs in two days.
X-man asked for five. I knew Finn had two, so that meant only one more.
When I walk into the house, Madison glares at me.
“That’s a nice welcome back,” I say with an eye roll.
“Tally is leaving,” she yells.
“When?” I ask, trying to ignore the anger boiling inside of me.
“In a couple hours, and she told me everything.”
“Madison, don’t.”
I look up to see Tally walking toward us.
“Memphis, did you ever find my phone?”
“Shit, Tales.” I run my hand through my hair. “Give me a second. I’ll—”
I stop when she nods and then head to my room, seeing the laundry basket of clean clothes sitting on my bed. I only brought one change of clothes when I left, and I need a change, so I pull my shirt off, then grab a white tank out of the basket of folded clothes and throw it on.
I dig through the clothes and find her phone. “Fuck.”
“You found it?” I hear her behind me and spin around.
“Yeah.” I feel anxious. “Look, Tales, we’ll get you a new one if this one is shit now. And please don’t leave. Mads will be … well, mad, and I feel like shit about—” I stop when I see her eyes widen, and her mouth make a little O. “Who is your phone provider? I’ll call right after I call and have your flight changed back. You can’t leave, Tales. Come on.”
“I can’t stay,” she says in a more hostile tone than I expected.
“Please, Tales. I’m sorry, okay?”
“You don’t get to say sorry, Memphis. I slapped you. I got drunk. I let you”—the way she says you is like a kick to the nuts, the disdain nearly taking my breath away—“make me sleep in that bed.” She points at said bed and then stops.
I see tears pool in her eyes, and the pain in my chest is worse than the one that felt like a kick.
“I need to leave.”
“No. No, you don’t. I won’t say a word. I won’t do a damn thing. I want you two to have fun.” I go to reach out to grab her hands, and she jumps back. “Tales, come on; it’s me. I promise. My word is good, okay?”
She turns to walk away.
“Tales, tell me you’ll stay.”
“Tell me you’ll leave me the hell alone,” she retorts as she walks out.
“Thank you,” I call behind her.
When the door shuts, I about bust up laughing. She said hell.
I walk in the bathroom and grab my toothbrush, the one Tales used. I squirt some paste on it and look in the mirror.
“Da fuck!” I say as I see the fucking hickies and scratch marks all over my neck. “Son. Of. A. Bitch.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
* * *
NO BANG BANG
Tallia
There is a knock on the door when Madison is in the shower. I hesitate, not wanting to see him. Fearing I will stare at the … love marks all over him.
I hate that I allowed myself to believe for only a short time that he was interested in me. I hate that I wasted a year daydreaming about that stupid night.
There is another knock, and then the door opens. “Tales?”
“Oh, sorry.” I stand up and straighten my shirt. He notices, and his lips curl up, but there is no smile in his eyes.
“What’s that guy’s name? The one with the crazy orange hair on your shirt, the one—”
“Beaker,” I answer.
“Right, meep meep?” He smirks, handing me a box.
“What is it?” I ask as I look down. “Oh, no. No way.”
“Yours was ruined,” he says, pushing the box with the Apple logo on it back toward me.
“This is way too much.”
“Renter’s insurance,” he answers quickly.
“Oh, come on, Memphis. An hour after my phone shows up damaged, the insurance company—”
He nods his head, and I shake mine.
“Fine, but the claim’s been filed, so I’ll get the cash back. Just take the phone, Tales. You need it.”
“Renter’s insurance?”
“Yeah.” His eyes shift, and I am almost certain he’s full of bologna. “Same number, but they couldn’t retrieve the contacts.” He sighs. “Tales, just take the phone.”
“I—”
“Please?”
“Fine, but how did you do it without my permission? I mean—”
“I can be pretty persuasive.”
“Yeah.” I nod, looking down at the box in my hand. “My old plan was grandfathered in, so I should call them and—”
“No need to call; it’s the same plan.” I give him a questioning look. “Okay, it’s not, but you just give me, like, ten bucks a month and—” I try to hand it back to him. “Nope. It’s yours.”
Madison walks out of the bathroom, toweling her hair off. “Is he pissing you off?”
I shake my head. “He needs to take back the phone.”
“Oh, wow,” she says, looking at the box then at him. “Feeling like a douche? Don’t forget you pretty much ruined my first couple days of this vacation, too. Making my best friend cry and—”
“Madison,” I say quietly, closing my eyes and wishing I was invisible.
“I’ll take it in diamonds and—”
“Mads, I told her I was sorry. Now I’ll say it to you, and then we move the fuck on, got it?”
“Fine,” she huffs.
“I can’t take this phone. It’s too expensive, and I am sure ten dollars a month is not truly what it costs, anyway.”
“It is. Mine’s on his plan, so are our parents. He gets a discount because he is affiliated with Steel Inc., and it’s an added line.” She looks at Memphis. “But I don’t think she owes dick a month.”
“I don’t care about the money,” he huffs.
“Oh, that’s right, Mr. Bigtime,” Madison says in an exaggerated tone as she grabs her clothes and walks in the bathroom. “You’re taking us out to dinner tonight.”
She shuts the door, and I am left looking at the box in my hand and trying not to look at him.
“Where do you wanna go, Tales?”
“I really don’t want to go out.” I shake my head and look up at him.
“I’m really sorry. I crossed a few lines.”
I nod, then shrug. “I have never hit anyone in my life.” I swallow down the guilt and clear my throat.
“I deserved it,” he says, searching my face.
I’m not sure if he’s waiting for a smile, for tears, or for me to tell him he didn’t deserve it. Therefore, I give him a true version of the latter.
“No one deserves to be hit.”
His eyes scrunch together.
�
�What?” I ask, knowing he wants to say something.
He shakes his head. “Nothing, Tales. Thanks for the apology. Please accept mine.”
With that, he looks at me for a few more excruciatingly silent moments and then walks to the door.
“Phone’s charged. Mads can show you how to use it if you don’t know how.” And then he walks out the door.
I am left with an iPhone Six in my hands, the big one, too. It’s huge, probably too big, definitely too expensive, and he won’t take it back.
When Madison and I walk out, we can hear the guys on the patio. I go to the sink to grab a glass of water and see River in the pool, floating around with sticks in his hand. Finn is sitting on the edge of the chaise, strumming a bass guitar. Billy is seemingly playing the invisible keyboard on his lap, and Memphis is sitting opposite Finn, strumming an acoustic. I can hear him singing. His voice isn’t the booming onstage rocker voice; it’s softer.
“Might as well shit-can the idea of going out.” Madison looks over my shoulder.
“Why?”
“He’s been in a funk for a while now, and it looks to me like he’s out of it.” She smiles adoringly in his direction.
“A funk?”
“Finn’s written almost all of the lyrics.”
“Since when?”
“Since we went away that spring break, right before going on tour with Burning Souls. He doesn’t say anything to me, of course, but he told our father he thinks the road took something from him, and he’s been looking for it ever since.” She looks at me and rolls her eyes. “Mostly between chicks’ legs, but …” She shrugs, as if to say whatever.
I grab a glass of water and drink it down.
“You wanna go listen?”
“Should we interrupt?” I ask, thinking it’s a bad idea.
“Give him a few minutes.” She starts opening drawers until she finds what she’s looking for and then pulls out a pile of take-out menus. “Let’s order dinner.”
We order Mexican—it’s always been Madison’s favorite—quietly as we listen to Steel Total Destruction play in the background.
I have never seen them live. Even though I was invited plenty of times, I just couldn’t. I didn’t have the time or money. Now I have the time. I have lots and lots of time.
I know I will have to tell Madison soon. I have avoided it so far, just wanting to enjoy my time with her. So far, it’s been a total disaster.
Madison is smiling. “Do you hear him, Tales?” I nod. “He’s amazing.”
“Not sure if it should be called “Bang, Bang” or “Loners Syndrome”,” we hear Memphis say as he strums his guitar. “The chorus, you all join in at bang, bang. One, two, three. Two, two, three,” he says then starts doing what Memphis does best.
Her dress is devil red and skin tight.
She’s made up her mind; she has plans for the night.
Smoke filled room, the music plays.
Her eyes cut through the sweet smelling haze.
I sit. I wait. I drink a few.
I watch her dance, wait for her cue.
No lines, no promise, no future plan,
Just desire and a need of a woman for a man.
Room key in hand, I follow her.
One touch of hands, and she purrs.
That smell, that taste, that wild plum.
Look in her eyes.
Come on, give me some.
Bang, bang. My heart beats like a drum.
Bang, bang. No choice but to succumb.
Bang, bang. Not sent from above.
Bang, bang. Fits like a glove
Bang, bang. I’m driving it home.
Bang, bang. A loner’s syndrome
Bang, bang. I’m a loaded gun.
Bang, bang. Two seconds to run.
Bang, bang. No room for love.
Bang, bang. Not sent from above.
“Yeah, he sure is.” I force a smile then excuse myself to go to the bathroom.
Once the door is shut behind me, I close my eyes and wrap my arms around myself, feeling sick to my stomach. The marks he wore, the words he sung, it all makes me sick. What made me even more ill is the fact that I know deep down I still want him. I would be lying to myself if I said otherwise.
I walk out as Madison is juggling bags in her arms.
“Let me help.” I go over and grab two as she kicks the door shut behind her.
“Nice save. You know you are always there when I need you.”
We set up the food on the table as they change chords and timing then sing the song again. It will no doubt be a hit, but I think that will be one song by STD that I will not be buying.
“What did you think?” I hear Memphis ask as he sets his guitar down and looks in our direction. His eyes train on me, and then he looks to Madison.
“Effing love it, of course,” she says, beaming.
“Thanks,” he says and doesn’t look at me. “Wrote two others, too.”
“And you’re holding out?” Madison pushes him in jest.
“One, I’ll let you hear after dinner. The other—well, I’m still working on it.”
I look at him out of the corner of my eye and see he is looking at me out of the corner of his eye with his head down.
“What did you think?” he asks.
I give him a forced smile and nod. I say nothing, because if I do, I will say the wrong thing.
After dinner, I help clean up. Mads hands me a glass of wine, and I drink it down. I see the guys all heading back outside, but I don’t think I can take another “tell all” by Memphis Black right now.
I need a break from the intensity that comes with him. The feelings he evokes are like a storm, a disease, an STD, I think, shaking my head and trying to rid the picture I have in it.
“Spill it,” Mads says as she pours me another drink.
“No, it’s nothing.” I laugh uncomfortably, and without thinking, I drink down the glass of wine she just poured.
It’s bitter and doesn’t really feel all that great on my belly, but it makes me kind of numb. I like it.
“Shit.” Madison laughs. “Thirsty much?”
“Yeah. Another please.”
She pours the glass of dry white.
Note to self: if I ever decide to become a lush, dry white is not something I will ever purchase.
Purchase. I laugh at the thought. An indulgence. I can’t afford just getting by; how the hell would I even consider something I might indulge upon?
I look up to find Madison laughing.
“Damn, girl.” She fills the glass again, and I suddenly feel hot. I also feel like I just don’t care anymore. I like that feeling.
“Come on, I have the bottle,” she teases as she holds it in front of me like I’m a dog being lured by a treat. “Let’s go listen to the boys.”
Everyone is sitting around the outdoor fireplace. River is tapping his sticks on the tiled table, Memphis and Finn have their guitars, and Billy is doing something with his laptop.
I sit next to Billy, who smiles, and I lean in to see what he’s doing, feeling the weight of someone’s very blue eyes, but I ignore it.
Madison is on the other side of Billy, doing the same.
Three glasses of wine later, I’m hot and tired. They have played two songs, both ones Finn has been working on, and I am glad not to hear “Bang, Bang” again.
They end the song, and I expect them to discuss it like they did the last, but Memphis speaks.
“You do remember you’re still underage, right, Madison?”
“Are you serious right now?” she snorts.
“Just don’t want you getting all fucked up and throwing up all over the place.”
I look up and see him blatantly staring at me.
“I think he just doesn’t want to see the two of you going inside with Billy boy and banging the fuck out of him,” River begins, and Memphis draws back his fist.
“I will knock your goddamned teeth—”
“Oh, please.
” Finn rolls his eyes. “If it wasn’t your sister or the girl who—”
“Watch it, man,” he warns.
“—grew up next door, you’d be the first inside with the both of them.”
“Respect, man. Show some.” Memphis stands up, sets his guitar down, and then storms into the house.
I look around to see everyone is laughing. It’s funny if you know it isn’t you who caused his grim mood.
I finish my drink and stand. “I’m gonna go to bed.”
“I’m not ready yet,” Madison says as she fills her glass and takes a sip. “But I’ll come with if you want me to.”
“To do what? Watch me sleep?” I smile. “Stay, have fun.”
“You feeling okay?” Billy asks as I take a step and nearly trip. “Apparently not. I’ll walk you in.”
“Not necessary,” I say, but he is immediately next to me, holding my elbow.
“It’s not a problem. I need to use the bathroom, anyway.”
We walk in, and I quickly scan the area. No Memphis.
“Thanks, Billy, but I’m okay.”
“Have a glass of water and a Motrin,” he says as he grabs the bottle off the counter, then a glass from the cupboard. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“Thanks.”
He walks out of the room as I swallow down the Motrin with the water. I clean the glass and then head to bed.
When I round the corner, Memphis is standing against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are angry as he stares directly at me.
“You scared me,” I whisper.
“Not my intention,” he says, looking up at the ceiling. “Look, Tales, I don’t know if I’m losing my fucking mind or if this shit I feel when I’m around you is—”
“Memphis, I am clearly making this vacation miserable for you. I—”
“I have been a fucking wreck for a year. Over a year. I finally figured out why.”
I shake my head and swallow hard, waiting for him to tell me how I jinxed him, how I messed up his music mojo.
“I’m sorry,” is all that comes out.
“Don’t be sorry. Help me fix it.”
“By letting you do all those things you say you want to do, Memphis? The things that I’m not sure if you’re joking about or if it’s just you and your … testosterone levels amped up like a damn electric guitar?”
Rock Star Romance Ultimate Volume 2 Page 93