The Wreckage of Us

by Cherry, Brittainy

  “But we can’t. This stuff would never hold up in court,” James argued. “It was illegally recorded.”

  “That’s not the point. We don’t even have to take it to court. The point is we threaten to show their wives unless they allow us to get out of the messed-up contract.”

  “You think showing their wives will matter? These are assholes, Eric. They don’t care about their wives’ feelings.”

  “Yes, you’re right. But I’m sure the wives will be interested in seeing what these men have been up to. Plus, they’ve been with their wives since before they found fame. And you know what that means?”

  “What?” Ian asked.

  “No prenups. Which means if their wives left them, they’d leave with pretty much half their shit.”

  A small smile formed on everyone’s face as realization began to set in. That plan was brilliant and might actually work. I was certain the guys would fine-tune it before approaching Max and Donnie, but there seemed to be a light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel for the Wreckage.

  The rest of the night, we stayed in the barn house, with Rosie joining in when she awakened from her nap, and the guys played music with all of their hearts and every ounce of their passion. They returned to their roots and sounded better than ever before. I loved that they weren’t afraid to speak up for their wants, for their needs as musicians. It couldn’t have been easy to go against men like Donnie and Max, but they weren’t doing it solo. They would be walking into that meeting with their heads held high as a complete unit.

  No matter what happened when they met with the record label, I knew everything would work out exactly as it was supposed to. The Wreckage would end up exactly where they were meant to go, because they had each other’s backs through thick and thin. There was no getting around the fact that when they said “until forever,” they truly meant those words.

  I stayed there listening to the lyrics rolling off Ian’s tongue as he sang, his voice melting into every inch of my soul.

  And that evening, I knew those lyrics were being sung solely for me.

  44

  IAN

  “Please tell me you’re joking, because every demand you are making is out of the realm of possibility. Furthermore, for you to go off the grid as long as you did without reaching out is beyond unprofessional. You’ve missed ample studio time, and now you have no damn album to showcase. But now you have the nerve to come sit in the conference room of the biggest record label ever, with Donnie Schmitz, the CE-fucking-O of Mindset Records, to tell us that we owe you a fucking apology?” Max spat at us in a complete state of shock.

  It was funny how much had changed since we’d sat across from Max for the first time. We were so naive back then and happy to just be given a chance. We were so happy that someone as big as Max took notice of us that we didn’t even consider what exactly someone like him noticing us meant.

  “You all are in for a hell of a lawsuit,” Donnie grumbled, clasping his hands together with a threatening look on his face.

  I clasped my hands together in the same fashion and sat up straighter. “I doubt we have to get lawyers involved. We just want a few things from you, and we’ll get out of your hair.”

  Donnie huffed. “You want something from us? We gave you everything!”

  “Yes, even the kindness of you both leaking our album earlier in order to force us to play your mainstream music,” I explained.

  Donnie and Max both glanced at one another before Max shook his head. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “We have our own geek squad,” James said, nodding toward Eric. “He figured out where the leaked records came from. Don’t play dumb; it’s not a cute look on you.”

  Donnie grimaced as he rolled his hands through his grayed hair. “Yes, well, you hacking into our emails isn’t going to look swell for you. That’s an illegal act.”

  “Yes, which is why we aren’t taking the emails to the feds. We are, instead, sending these videos to your wives,” Marcus said matter-of-factly. He pulled out his cell phone and emailed Donnie. “Mr. Schmitz, if you would please check your email.”

  Donnie opened his email to a very, very inappropriate video. After Eric had revealed his plan to us, we’d been able to reach out to some of the girls in the videos with Max and Donnie, and they were fans of our music. They’d been eager to send us videos of their private affairs with Donnie and Max, and let’s just say a lot of weird shit had happened with grapefruits and dicks. Max raced over to Donnie to see what video was being played, and I watched the exact moment the color drained from his face.

  Donnie sat up in his chair. “Where did you get this?”

  “It doesn’t matter, but if you were smarter, you would’ve had those women sign NDAs. But seeing as how you didn’t, I wonder if your wives would be interested in seeing these videos. Also, if you were smarter, you would’ve probably had prenups put in place before marriage. But instead, it seems that your wives might be able to take a good chunk of change from you.”

  “They are bluffing,” Max spat out. “I know these guys. They don’t have the balls to—”

  “Shut the fuck up, Max,” Donnie barked, silencing Max in mere seconds. Donnie’s brow knitted, and he lowered his eyes as he kept replaying the video. His lips were pressed together so tightly the vein in his neck throbbed.

  When he was finished staring, he finally placed his phone down and locked eyes with me. “What are your requests?”

  “Are you kidding?” Max sighed. “You can’t really—”

  Donnie held a silencing hand up to Max, and he instantly shut up.

  Good puppy.

  “We want three more months to create a new album. You’ll push the release date back. We’ll release our music—our real fucking music—and then, once that’s done, we’re freed from our contract with you. We don’t owe you any other albums down the line, and everything we agreed to is null and void. We’re free to walk with our hands clean after this album releases.”

  There was a thickness to the air as Donnie contemplated his choices. He cleared his throat. “I’ll have a new contract drafted up over the next few days.”

  “Are you shitting me?” Max hollered. “You’re really going to allow these small-town dicks to push you in a corner?”

  Donnie leaned forward toward the conference telephone and hit a button. “Laura, please have security come up front and remove Max Rider from the building.”

  “What? What? You’re joking, right?” Max said, looking panicked. “You can’t kick me out of here.”

  “Yes, I can, and I am. I should’ve never taken you up on the idea of leaking that album, and that is something I’ll have to live with. But for now, you are no longer allowed at Mindset Records.”

  “This—this is all because of you dicks!” Max hollered, gesturing toward the band and me. “You idiots ruined your only shot at fame. I discovered you! I fucking made you what you are! You are shooting yourself in the fucking foot. You’re stupid and making a million mistakes. You staying with that girl is a scandal waiting to happen. Your stupid fucking indie music is a train wreck. You won’t take off without me. Don’t you know who I am? I’m Max Fucking Rider! I make stars!”

  He hollered those last lines on repeat as security dragged him out of the building.

  As we gathered our things, Donnie looked our way with a frown against his lips. “So about that video. Do you think you can get rid of it?”

  “Oh, Donnie.” I shook my head. “I think we both know that we can’t remove it until after the new contracts are in place.”

  “Fair enough.” He nodded in understanding. “Max said you small-town boys weren’t the brightest, but it seems you proved him wrong. It seems you can indeed hold your own. We’ll be in touch shortly.”

  We all agreed, and as we walked away, Donnie said, “The grapefruit thing was worth it. It felt great against my dick as the girls worked their mouths.”

  Marcus groaned as we left the room. “
And just like that, I can never eat grapefruit again.”

  I felt a bit of unease about the choice we’d made in the conference room that afternoon, but I knew it was the right one. We’d be able to release our album and our music on our terms. Sure, perhaps we’d never be able to have the superstar success we’d dreamed of without a huge company backing us, but at least we’d have our music—which was what it was all about in the first place.

  Eric patted me on the back. “Good job, leader.”

  “Yeah, that was great and all, but also why do I feel like my balls just dropped and I want to vomit?” Marcus semijoked. “Did we just tell Max Fucking Rider and the head of Mindset Records to fuck off? Is that the end of our careers?”

  “Nah, I think we’re going to be fine. You know what they say: if it’s not okay, it’s not the end of the story. I think the Wreckage will live to see another day,” James said. “And if not, I’m sure we can get our jobs back at the ranch.”

  Back to the pigpens and Hazel Stone.

  Didn’t sound so awful to me.

  Then again, I knew we couldn’t give up on the music. We were going to figure it out one way or another. Only this time, we were going to do it our way.

  “So you threatened Max Fucking Rider and the head of Mindset Records, and you lived to tell the story,” Hazel said as we sat inside of the shed as the sun began to set. The guys and I had been back in Eres for about thirty minutes, and I’d already found my way to the shed to sit beside Hazel and stare up at the sky.

  “I think we lived to tell the story. We’ll see after the nauseous feeling subsides,” I joked. “I don’t know what happens next with us, but I guess we start with trying to find a new manager. We have a meeting at the record label next week to see the new contract. We’re going to have our lawyers comb through it nonstop to make sure Donnie isn’t trying to screw us over somehow.”

  She snickered. “Your lawyers. What a crazy thing to even say. You have your own set of lawyers. Who would’ve thought this was how your life would turn out?”

  “Wild, right?”

  “In the best way. I, for one, think you guys are making the right choice searching for a new manager. Not just because I hate every piece of Max’s soul but also because you need someone behind you who believes in the same things that you do. Someone who believes in your dreams and will help you get to them. Someone who will stand up for you. I’m sure that manager is out there. Just give it time. You’ll find them.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  She rested her head on my shoulder, and we looked up at the darkening sky. The moon was full, and a part of me thought about howling toward it. I leaned down and kissed Hazel’s forehead.

  “You know what I’ve been thinking?” I asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “That you should probably marry me someday. Soon.”

  She lifted her head up from my shoulder and twisted it in my direction. “What?”

  I snickered. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking you now, but I do plan on asking you someday, and when I do, I hope you’ll say yes to me. Because the idea of having you as mine until forever means more than you’ll ever know to me.”

  She leaned in with a smile and kissed my lips. “I’d say yes, you know. Over and over again, I’d say yes.”

  My chest tightened as realization set in. I was in love with a girl who loved me back. What could’ve been greater than that? No fame, no fortune, nothing. We were lucky to have found one another, lucky enough to not have given up when things got heavy.

  Hazel Stone had changed me. She’d showed me what ultimate strength looked like. She’d showed me unconditional love, and I hoped to do the same for her for the rest of our lives.

  As we lay there inside the shed looking up at the sky, I felt a fullness wash over me.

  Hazel Stone was my best friend, my darling, my melody, my song.

  And damn . . .

  She sounded so good.

  Epilogue

  HAZEL

  One Year Later

  The barn house was packed as people danced in circles all night long. Rosie was on the dance floor with Marcus, and the two hopped up and down wildly as a Bruno Mars song blasted from the speakers. There were tables set up with the most stunning bouquets of roses as the centerpieces, and people sat at the tables eating the most yummy cake known to mankind.

  I stood back from all of the action, taking it in from afar as happiness glowed throughout all of Eres.

  A hand wrapped around my waist, and Ian pulled me in close to his body. His mouth brushed against my earlobe, and he whispered, “How’s Mrs. Parker doing?” He kissed me gently up and down my neck.

  I giggled. “I told you, you’re not allowed to call me that until after we actually get married.” True, the celebration we were watching wasn’t our own, even though Ian had proposed to me over a year ago in the shed as we’d stared up at the moon.

  We were in the wedding-planning territory, but we still had a few years before we’d officially walk down the aisle. The Wreckage had just released their sophomore album, which had shot up the charts, landing them their first number one album. After the fallout with Max, they’d found a manager named Andrew Still, who understood their dreams and was willing to do whatever it took to make them come true. They were heading off for the first leg of their new tour in a week. I was going to miss him dearly, but Rosie and I already had plans to meet up with them for a few shows over in Europe during the summer once my classes were done.

  I was two years into my business degree, and I couldn’t have been prouder of myself. I knew I couldn’t have done it without Ian’s family helping me through it all.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to run off to Vegas and just elope? I hear Elvis is alive and well down there and willing to tie the knot for us,” Ian offered for the umpteenth time.

  I laughed at the request and turned to face him. “There’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives to be together.”

  “I know, but I want that,” he said, nodding toward the dance floor. The occasion of the night was Big Paw and Holly’s sixty-fifth anniversary. The two were out there swaying back and forth, giggling with one another as if they were teenage kids who were falling in love for the first time.

  “We’ll get that,” I swore. “We’re going to dance at every wedding and be the last couple standing.”

  “Speaking of dancing,” Ian said, holding his hand out toward me. I placed my hand in his, and he moved us to the dance floor. We began swaying back and forth, his hand resting on my lower back, my head sitting against his shoulder.

  It amazed me how far we’d come. How we’d grown into a love so strong. I’d been nineteen years old when I’d known my heart beat for Ian Parker, and I’d be late into my nineties with my heart still beating for that man.

  Even though we were young, I knew that the future was going to be bright for us. We were going to bring babies into this world; we were going to use our gifts for good; we were going to give to those in need. We were going to love each other and nourish that love year after year.

  And no matter what, we were going to spend the rest of our lives dancing under the moonlight.

  Three Years Later

  “Are you sure you don’t want to work in the restaurant?” I asked, sitting at my desk. Across from me was my mother in her best clothing. She looked so much better than she had years before, and seeing her smiling across from me made me the happiest daughter alive.

  There was a long time when I’d thought I’d lost her for good. A part of my life when I’d thought Mama was too far gone with her demons.

  After she’d gotten out of prison, she’d been afraid she’d fall back into her old patterns, so when Ian had offered her a chance to go to an amazing rehab center, she’d taken him up on it. Mama had put in the hard work to turn her life around, and while she’d done that, Ian and I had always kept the porch light on, in case she ever wanted to return to us.

>   When she’d been ready, she’d come back, and now she was looking for work on the ranch.

  “Oh no, no. You already know I don’t belong in the kitchen. I think I can do some of the work around here, even if it’s just cleaning up some messes. I mean, if you think there’s room . . .” She fiddled with her fingers and gave me a half grin. “I’ll do anything to just keep myself busy. Plus, Rosie said she wanted me to be working around the horses with her.”

  “Sounds about right.” My little sister loved Dottie as much as I did. If she was ever missing, you could always find her in those stables. “We can get you started Monday. But don’t think I’m going to take it easy on you since you’re my mother,” I sternly stated.

  She nodded. “I wouldn’t expect you to. I’m going to put in the hard work, Hazel. I promise you, I’m not going to let you down.”

  “There is one more stipulation to the job, Mama.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You go to college.”

  Her face lost a bit of color, and she shook her head back and forth. “Oh no. No. I can’t, Hazel. I don’t even have a GED. College isn’t something I could do.”

  “A long time ago, Big Paw told me you used to dream about going to college. Isn’t that true?”

  She fiddled with her hands, and embarrassment fell across her face. “Yes, but that was a long time ago. I’m not smart enough for any of that, and I’m old and worn out . . .”

  “You’re smart, Mama. You’ve always been smart, and I won’t take no for an answer. We’ll get you your GED and then work toward getting you into some college courses. You’re never too old to achieve your goals. You can do it.”

  When she looked up to me, she had tears in her eyes. “You really think so?”

  “I know so. We’ll figure out all the details down the road, but enough about all of these things,” I said, smiling as I stood. “We need to get to Thanksgiving dinner before Big Paw chews both of us out. You’ll start next Monday.”