by Brenda Ford
Hank stares at me so ferociously, I fear he must be able to see right through my soul. I hope not. I don’t want anyone looking into that dark cloudy mess! “Now, you look here, Alex. None of us have been nagging you. We all recognize that you are going through some stuff that you need to work out in your own special way, and we’re doing our best to just be here for you, to support you and pick you up when times get tough, but you sure as shit aren’t making it easy. With this attitude, it’s hard for me to even talk to you.”
“Then don’t!” I explode like a pressure cooker popping off. “I’m not asking you to talk to me. I don’t want to talk to any of you either. Not about anything other than this. I’m not passionate about this talentless fame whore and her mooching off of us. I don’t want that. None of us want that. We will be tarnished with her brush…”
“And her, ours,” Hank warns. “I am of course including your shitty behavior in that. So, before you start throwing accusations involving other people, why don’t you think about yourself?”
I don’t want to think about myself. That’s why I’m in such a mess. I don’t want to consider anything in my life because it’s simply out of my control, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand and it doesn’t matter how much I try and cling on to it all, it goes regardless. I can’t hold on to any of it. My memories are vanishing, shedding into a haze of misery and booze. My romantic life is a fucking joke because I ruined the only shot of happiness that I was ever going to have. Now the band is changing into something new as well. Something that I don’t want to be a part of… which is hard for me to admit because music is my life. But how can I be a part of it when we’re delving into the manufactured pop world? I hate it. Gary won’t be on my side because he’s a stubborn fuck who just wants to argue with me for some reason. I have already observed Rachel kissing Freya’s ass like she’s something precious, which kills me. Now, Hank is against me as well. What the hell am I supposed to do? How can I crawl back from something so terrible?
“I’m out of here,” I declare, letting my disgust roll free. “It doesn’t seem like talking to you is going to get me anywhere, so what’s the point? I need to blow off some steam before the show tonight.”
“I just warned you not to drink,” Hank calls after me as I walk away. “I mean it. I don’t want to be hunting your sorry ass down before the show just to find you in a stupor. The fans have paid good money to see you.”
I pay absolutely no attention to his words as I walk away. He honestly seems to have it in his head that I’m out of control, that I don’t have a handle on what I’m drinking, which is wild. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I am also very good at drinking just the right amount so that I can put on a good performance without actually making a shit storm of things. Hank will come to understand that soon enough.
“Fucking asshole,” I growl in temper as I storm towards the nearest dive bar I can see. “What a prick.”
As I walk inside the bar, Freya’s face fills my mind, making me so damn angry. What the fuck does she even think that she’s doing here? Why is she a part of this Goddamn tour? I wouldn’t want anything to do with a tour that didn’t suit my music style at all. It’s detrimental. And what are we going to do if she is miming like most of the pop stars that I know? We can’t really accommodate that, and even if the sound department finds a way to make that happen, it will be utterly humiliating when we make it obvious by singing live. I don’t intend to mime just to suit this bitch. I don’t want to turn this around into something else. I will leave the band first.
“Hello, Sir,” the female bar tender says with a smiling voice. “What can I get you?”
“Brandy,” I bark without really meeting her eyes. “The most expensive one.”
“Oh, I know you!” she declares as she pours the drink. “You’re the guy from the band, aren’t you? The one who is playing tonight. Do you think that maybe I could take a picture with you?”
I almost snap at her that I don’t fucking want to take any pictures right now because I’m not in the mood, but then I remember that I need to prove Hank wrong. I need him to understand that I can handle things.
“Yes, of course.” I smile thinly as she points the camera towards me. I think of proving everyone wrong and allow the photo to be taken. “There we go, a photo for you… oh, what are you doing?”
She types furiously with a happiness shining in her eyes. “Posting this on social media, what do you think? Having you come in here and talking to me face to face is the most exciting thing to ever happen to me…”
“Right.” I chuck back the rest of my drink and slide a note to her before exiting the bar. She calls after me, wondering where I’m going, but she doesn’t need to know. I need another bar, a place that isn’t going to be inundated with fans wanting something from me. I want to prove Hank wrong, but I can’t deal with lots of people all at once. I just want to quietly drink myself in to the right place before I have to go on stage… after the fucking pop princess who is going to rile up the crowds. This is for the best; the fans need me to be on the top of my game.
Chapter 5 - Freya
The word ‘talentless’ stings so badly that I wanted to cry. Never mind the word ‘bitch’. Why the hell would someone that I don’t even know say that about me? I would love to be able to apply the usual blasé attitude that I take and Twitter to Alex, but hearing those words fly out of his mouth rather than seeing them on a blank emotionless screen really aches that much more. I can’t even wrap my head around them.
“Are you okay?” Rachel asks me as we sit in the green room together, just waiting to go on stage. Thankfully, it’s just me and her. The guys are still in their dressing rooms. “You seem quiet. Are you nervous?”
“Er…” To be honest, I’m so upset by everything that Alex said about me in the argument with Gary and Hank – who were both defending me, not that I can focus on their kindness – that I haven’t really thought about the show which I’m about to put on. I’m not sure if that’s good or a terrible thing. “I guess so, yes.”
“I always get nervous as well,” Rachel reassures me. “Which is silly because I’m on the drums, right at the back of the stage so no one is even looking at me. I can’t imagine how it must be for you.”
I highly doubt that no one is looking at Rachel, even if she is at the back. A stunning, cool girl like her must have all eyes upon her. I know that if I was out in the crowd, I’d be looking at her… or perhaps I would be looking at Alex because I wouldn’t know what a terrible person he is. What a rude, arrogant, drunk.
“Yeah, well I should be okay. I’m in the support act, not the real deal, so I won’t be on for that long. Also, most people will just be waiting for you guys to come on, so I will be fine.”
Rachel tosses her head back and laughs, a sound that is so contagious that I can’t help but join in. To be honest, I would much rather be laughing and having fun with someone who likes me rather than thinking about someone who doesn’t. Just because it isn’t something that I have had much, doesn’t mean I can’t handle it.
Perhaps once I have been up on stage and I have proven myself, things will change anyway.
“You look amazing anyway,” Rachel reassures me. “Your hair looks great and that dress is phenomenal on you. The way that it clinches in at the waist is really nice. You have a great figure.”
Her words cause me to rise to my feet over to the mirror where I check myself out one last time. This is definitely a new outfit to what I would have worn before, but I do like it a lot. I’m growing and transforming, becoming something new, someone different and better. Alex and his shitty behavior might just be an obstacle that I need to overcome to become who I’m supposed to be. The phoenix rising from the ashes.
“Right, I suppose I better go then.” I nod at Rachel. “Wait until I need to go out on stage.”
“Good luck.” She pulls me in for one last hug before I go. “Go kick some ass out there.”
I hope that’
s what I can do, especially when there is such a massive crowd of people out there who I don’t know are going to like me or not. I suck in a few deep and panicked breaths, before I am called out and I step on to stage. There are cheers, that’s the first thing that I notice, there are people supporting me, so I will go with that. I will do what I usually do and focus on the positives rather than the negative that is Alex fucking Smith.
I did good. I feel freaking amazing actually as I step off the stage to the sounds of people screaming out there. I hope that I managed to turn everyone’s mind around, the ones who didn’t know me or believe in me, I hope now that they like me. I slide my eyes closed and consider at least some of those people buying my song and becoming my fan too. That would be amazing, wouldn’t it? A dream come true.
But I don’t have long to get lost in my fantasy because it’s time for Blood Red Masters to get on stage. I don’t have to watch them, but I want to. I want to see if they are as good in person as they are online. I also want to watch Alex, to see if he’s Goddamn talented enough to be calling out other people.
So, I turn and watch them from the edge of the stage, leaning against the nearest pole to watch the band come to life. And holy shit, do they come to life! Everything that I thought about them as I watched them online melts away into nothingness as I see them live. Their energy, their passion, their excitement… it’s electrifying. The crowds are sucked in to this incredible atmosphere and I find myself slipping along with it too.
“Fuck,” I whisper to myself as my whole body reacts to the music in the way that only an incredible band can do. “Fuck, Alex Smith, you asshole. You really are as good as you should be for someone insulting others.”
That actually makes me sting deeply inside. I start feeling that it’s almost worse that he is that good because he might be right in his opinion about me. If someone so talented can call me talentless, it might actually be correct. I fold my arms across my chest as the self-doubt threatens to creep through me and swallow me up whole. I really don’t need that right now. Not at this stage of my career. Perhaps what I need to do is grab Alex as soon as he gets off the stage to find out how he really feels about me. He might change his mind as we talk face to face which will allow me to regain who I am once more. If I can get rid of this tiny seed of doubt, then everything will be okay. It will…
“Alex.” I reach out to grab hold of him as he leaves the stage, needing to say everything right now before I can talk myself out of it. Admittedly, I am already freaking out, so I know that it won’t take much. “Can I…”
But even the smallest of touch almost sends him toppling downwards which stuns me to the core. He’s drunk. Again. He must have gotten drunk the moment we stepped foot off the bus. I’m stunned, I whip my hand away, afraid to be the one who sends him flying. How the hell can he be such a star on the stage, and then a complete mess when he gets off? It makes me wonder if he was drunk when I watched all the videos of him as well. That makes me incredibly sad. To know that Alex is beloved by the world and he isn’t even a real person. I mean, he must have been once upon a time, but something has happened to him that has changed him. I wonder what it was.
“After party?” he asks, his blurry eyes flickering up at me. “Is that where we’re going?”
“No.” I shake my head fervently. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I think bed might be the best plan.”
“But I hate hotel room beds,” he groans. “They aren’t as good as my own. I can’t sleep in them.”
“Er, right.” I dart my eyes around but everyone else has vanished already. Rachel is on her cell phone and wandering towards the exit and Gary took Hank towards his dressing room. All the crew have managed to vanish as well. I can’t help but wonder if they knew that this was coming with Alex and they wanted to escape so they aren’t the one left to deal with him… and I’m stupid enough to be on my own. Naïve enough not to know this is coming. And now I’m stuck and alone. “I see. Well, I don’t think that we should stick around here, so we could go back to the hotel. I guess my bedroom probably isn’t that far away from yours…”
“We could go to the bar.” He slings his arm around my shoulder as if we’re old friends, as if he didn’t insult me earlier during the day. I can tell this isn’t because he doesn’t think I overheard either. He just doesn’t remember. There isn’t any point in confronting him right now when he’s like this. “We could have a drink.”
“Right…” I stagger a bit under his weight. “Sure, let’s see.”
I have no intention of going to the bar with him, but if it gets Alex back to the hotel then I am all for it. We walk from the venue the short distance towards the hotel, which is thankfully covered up so none of the fans would be able to see him like this. That would be so sad for Alex and for them.
“You know, not all women are bad,” he murmurs, slurring his words as he talks which is the total opposite to when he was singing not so long ago. “I keep thinking that they are, but that isn’t true, is it?”
“I… I don’t know about that.” I’m not sure where this is going as I hit the button on the elevator.
“Mandy was… was bad.” He nods a few times. “She wasn’t a good person. I don’t know why I fell for her. I don’t know why I… I….” This is followed by some incoherent mumbling, which I don’t even try to decipher as I guide him inside the elevator. “I didn’t mean to, you know? That wasn’t what I wanted to happen.”
“I see.” I dart my eyes backwards towards the bar, glad that he hasn’t noticed it. I don’t know if I would be able to keep him away from another drink while he’s in this mood. “Right, well I’m sure we all make mistakes.”
“Not like me. Not like the things that I did. I’m a terrible person.” He stares right at me, his eyes screaming out for help. This definitely isn’t the rock god up on stage, it’s the little scared boy underneath. That tugs every single one of my heart strings. “I hurt everyone. I made a really fucking… fucking mess of everything.”
“You hurt this Mandy?” Clearly, he wants to talk about it, but I don’t know how.
“No, she hurt me. She hurt me badly. She took me away from who I am.”
I gulp as the elevator pings open and we are on the right floor. I almost don’t want to leave this little room where it’s just me and him because he seems to feel safe enough to tell me things, and I want to get to know him, but I need to remember first and foremost that he’s wasted and needs some good sleep.
“Okay, come on, let us get you to bed. I think that’s for the best right now.”
“This isn’t me,” he continues as he slings his arm over my shoulder to rely on me while we walk. It’s a shame that he’s relying on a stranger rather than his friends. Opening up to me as well. “This isn’t who I am. I’m not… well, I don’t know who I am anymore. But not this.” He slips his fingers into his pocket and pulls out his room key. “You probably think that I’m a dick because you don’t know who I am.”
He’s right, I don’t, and as I open his room and let him inside, I wonder if I ever will. It’s a shame, because it seems like there might be someone other than the rude drunk he appears, but it is what it is.
Chapter 6 - Alex
“Urgh,” I moan as I turn over in this horrible uncomfortable bed. I suppose it isn’t that bad really. If I’m really honest with myself, Hank does pick us good rooms, but it isn’t my own bed and I always miss that. “Fuck.”
I blink a few times, allowing the bright morning light to infiltrate my vision. It’s white and painful, but a necessity while I figure out what I am going to do today. What I need to do today. There is bound to be something, there always is when we’re on tour. If it isn’t getting ready for a gig, it’s media stuff while we’re in each city. All an inconvenience really, especially when it gets in the way of me numbing myself and getting myself ready for the next concert. And I need to be ready. I don’t remember much of the performance last night, but I have a feeling that it went alri
ght. I don’t recall a lecture from Hank at any rate which is a good thing.
“Are you okay?” a soft sweet voice asks beside me, making my whole body freeze in fear. I can hardly stand to turn around and to see her there beside me, so I have to force my head to twist.
There I see the familiar shock of bright blonde and pink hair. The bright piercing green eyes that dig too deeply into me. How the fuck am I here with this woman right now? How did the pop princess end up in my bed with me? I can’t believe that I have had sex with her, and I don’t even remember it. I would have assumed that I would recall my first time having sex after Mandy, but it seems not. It doesn’t matter how deeply I dig into my brain, there isn’t anything there. It’s all just a gaping black hole with nothing to fill it.
“Fuck.” I shoot backwards, finally getting some feeling back in my body, and I dart out of the bed. “Fuck. What the fuck happened here? I don’t understand… why?” I drag my fingers through my sweaty hair, desperately trying to make this a nightmare rather than something that is really happening. I can’t stand it, it’s too much.
“Woah, okay…” Freya slides out of the bed as well, clearly revealing that she is still in the clothing that she was wearing up on the stage last night. “Don’t panic. There isn’t any need to panic right now.”
I pat down my body, noting that I am fully dressed as well, but that doesn’t convince me that everything is okay. I’m more than aware that we could have had sex then got dressed. Why the hell else would she be in my bed? Women don’t get into my bed unless they are getting something from me, especially when I don’t know them. And I don’t know this woman at all. I don’t actually think I have spoken to her at all.
“Nothing happened between us,” she confirms. “I just walked you back to your room after the gig because you seemed a little… tired.” Wow, she obviously means intoxicated but she’s trying not to be a bitch about it. “So, I figured I would walk back with you since I am in this hotel as well. And… well, when we got back here you asked me to stay with you for a little bit because you didn’t want to be alone.” I cringe internally, knowing that this must be the truth. I don’t like being by myself, I know this much. “You wanted me to have a drink with you, but we didn’t get to that part. We chatted instead and then when you fell asleep, I was too worried to leave you. I know how easy it is to choke on your own vomit when you’re sleeping…”