Disrespectful Diva (DJ #2)

by Helen J. Barnes

  “You okay, sweetheart?” Dom asks and I nod my head.

  “Fine. Just thirsty.” I refill my glass before taking another long glug.

  “No shit. The tap won’t run dry you know? You don’t have to stand at the sink to drink.” He smirks and I roll my eyes at him. “You’ve also been incredibly quiet since we left Wonderlust. Has someone said something to upset you?”

  I shake my head and take another sip of my water. When I lower my glass I see he is stood, hip resting against the kitchen island, with a curious look on his face. I know he isn’t going to drop this. I’m torn between wanting to question him and wanting to strip him naked where he stands. I decide to stop thinking with my libido for a while.

  “I managed to speak to Shazza, alone in the ladies. She thinks I don’t know the real you. What don’t I know, Dom?”

  Now it’s his turn to use his drink as an excuse not to speak and he sips from his bottle of lager. I wait patiently and when he lowers his bottle he squares me with a look that tells me he knew this conversation was coming and he’s ready for it. He gently puts down his drink on the worktop before crossing his arms over his chest, the cotton of his shirt pulling tight around his solid shoulders and bulging biceps.

  “Tara, I’ve always been honest with you. You’ve heard my reputation, and I’m sure some of what you heard was true, but I came to London to start over. I’ve paid my dues for my mistakes,” he says quietly but clearly. “But I have made mistakes. You know I’m no angel. I never claimed to be.”

  “So the drugs raid in Birmingham, it was true?”

  “It depends on which version you heard.”

  “Police raided an illegal underground rave and you were arrested and sent to prison for dealing cocaine.” I repeat the rumour, hoping it isn’t true.

  Dominic snorts with a snigger. “I was arrested for hosting an underground rave. A lot of people were arrested that night. I was caught with a small bag of weed. I was sent to prison for resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer. I was cautioned for the cannabis. I served a few weeks in prison. It was my first and last serious offence.”

  “You hit a police officer?”

  “Three of them were pinning me to a wall. One of them felt I deserved a punch to the gut. I was restricted in my retaliation but caught him with a head butt…” He looks embarrassed. “I was a stupid, drunk and very angry young lad who had no right to host an event. We didn’t even have a licensed bar. I suppose you could say I was trying to pull off what Pops did tonight, with no money or the first idea what it takes to put an event together.”

  I nod, okay, so none of that would stop me investing my heart in him. Underground raves were very common back then and Dom wasn’t the first or the last to host them. I’ve even played at a few. I’m not blind or stupid, drugs and the music scene go hand in hand. A little cannabis is nothing.

  “Were you ever a stripper?” I blurt, another rumour I heard.

  This makes Dom laugh out loud but I don’t smile. This rumour bothers me a hell of a lot, although it’s a rarely repeated rumour. Dom sobers when he sees I’m not amused.

  “No, Tara. I have never been a stripper. I may have been topless at a few hot summer festivals but I assure you nobody paid me to take my top off. That was all heat exhaustion.”

  “But you have slept around a lot?” I question and to this he looks at the floor before picking his bottle of lager back up. He is very obviously uncomfortable now. He nods his head once before sipping his drink. I feel my stomach burn at the thoughts and sip my own drink. “Is that what Shazza thinks I need to know? That you’re promiscuous?”

  “Were. Past tense. I was. You don’t understand, Tara, before you, when I was in Birmingham, I used to get women throw themselves at me. I was greedy, selfish even. I took what I wanted and prided myself on never going back for seconds. I racked up my fair share of easy lays.” He looks pained to tell me this. “I was a prick. Then…” He stops and moves quickly to stand right before me and I look up into his shining eyes that beg for understanding.

  “Then..?”

  “Then you, Tara.” He cups my chin and his thumb traces the outline of my lips.

  “What make me so different?” I say on a breath and the corner of his mouth quirks up.

  “You know, in Birmingham, I helped run an event with a promoter friend. We tried to book you once,” he chuckles. “You refused to play for us.”

  I’m taken aback. I had no idea. “I refused to play? I’ve played in Birmingham loads of times. Why wouldn’t I play for you?”

  “I believe the reason was because you demanded travel and accommodation. We couldn’t afford the hotel you demanded we book for you.”

  “Pentahotel. What can I say? I love the place.”

  “I was gutted. I’d always wanted to meet you. I wanted to see if the rumours about you were true, if you really were as antagonistic as people said.”

  “I’m not an antagonist!” I fake indignation and it raises a smile from Dominic. “Are you disappointed now you’ve met me?”

  “Not in the slightest, you’re everything I imagined and more besides. I can’t deny you refusing to play made me think you really were an uptight diva. We had to find a replacement headliner after you blew us out.” He smirks, brushing a stray hair away from my face.

  “Oh, yeah. Who replaced me?” I smile and Dom’s smile fades.

  “Lucy Hart.”

  My smile quickly fades, too. The look in his eyes when he mentions her name makes me squirm. Shazza’s parting comment about Lucy the Sunday morning she found Dom and I on our sofa comes back to my mind. His obvious discomfort around her during my set and her comment about Birmingham all fly through my mind and my stomach clenches in trepidation. I don’t want an answer to my next question, but the words projectile vomit from me without permission.

  “You haven’t slept with Lucy, have you?” I whisper and when I see him close his eyes against my enquiry I feel the bottom of my world fall out. I step out of his embrace and rub at the pain in my chest. My stomach contents start to crawl thick and hot up my throat at the thought.

  Oh, god. Not her. Not Lucy.

  Dominic opens his eyes and reaches out to me but I back away again, putting my hands up in surrender. “Tara, listen to me. It was a long time ago. It meant nothing…” He starts but I feel too sick and I make for the door, I need space. Why didn’t he tell me before now?

  I don’t make it to the living room door before he grips the top of my arm. “Sweetheart, don’t do this. You don’t understand.”

  I turn and yank my arm from his hand. “What don’t I understand, Dom? That you purposely never told me this because you knew I would have made damn sure nothing ever happened between us? Can you imagine what people would think? Me, taking up her hand me downs!”

  “No. I didn’t mention it because it wasn’t important, just like the dozens of other women weren’t.” Hearing him put a number on them sickens me further. I’m shacked up with a fucking man whore. “There is no reason this shouldn’t happen between us, Tara. You know this feels right!”

  “Shut your shithole, Dom. How can I be with someone I barely know? This should never have happened. I’ve lost my best friend because of it, the best friend who is hanging out with one of your ex’s, of all people!” I seethe.

  “She’s not an ex, she was just a fuck. I was out of my head and Lucy was…”

  “Was what?” I cut him off. “A mission to be accomplished so you could say you’d boned one of the best in the business. Is that what I was, Dom? A personal mission? Is that why you wanted me to play one of your events? Curiosity? To see if you could lay me, too?”

  “No. Don’t be so melodramatic. I’m not some kind of nymphomaniac for crying out loud.”

  “Well, I can assure you of this much, Mr-I’ve-Fucked-Half-Of-Club-land, you wouldn’t have had me. Not even if I was off my face.”

  “I know that. Tara. Don’t you see, that’s what’s so special about you. You�
�re the only person I’ve met that hasn’t fallen to her knees and asked to suck my cock. You blew your nose on my jacket, called me a fucking idiot and slapped me for kissing you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me…” His voice trails off and he looks at me with eyes full of shame.

  I’m practically panting with temper and I narrow my eyes at him. “Was she a one time lay?”

  His head drops further and he pinches the bridge of his nose, swearing under his breath and I know the answer to that question. The man whore who never goes back for seconds, he had to have deserts with her. I practically gag on my next question. “Why the action replay with her, Dominic? Because of who she is? Big Dom the DJ dominator, even the cream of the crop get creamed by him,” I sarcastically snarl.

  “Sweetheart, please, I can’t change the past and I’ve done things I wish I could take back but it’s nothing to do with us. It’s nothing we can’t move past now.” His eyes plead with me but he sees me backing away for the door shaking my head. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t even want to see him right now. He rushes towards me, gripping both my arms and pushing me against the wall next to the door. “Don’t leave me, Tara, please. Please don’t walk away from me. You’re the only one I want, the only one who has made me feel with my heart and not my dick. You’re the only one I’ve ever loved…” He trails off, his breathing coming in bursts and I soften under his tight hold. His grip loosens and his eyes beg me. He looks desperate and I feel my heart clench.

  He loves me? How the fuck can he love me?

  “Dominic, you can’t love me. I’m not the kind of girl men love. I’m not the loving type,” I practically whisper and Dom sighs. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against mine.

  “You have no idea how wrong you are, sweet girl. I think you want people to think of you that way, but I know you. I know you better than that. You’re so easy to love.”

  “I’m not, Dominic. I’m DisDiva. I’m a jumped up little bitch who demands expensive hotels just to grace you with my presence. You don’t know me at all.”

  He opens his eyes and they are full of hurt and sympathy. “I so wanted to hate you, Tara, I even tried, but I see you when your guard drops. You’re not DisDiva. You’re beautiful through and through. You’re cute and funny. You’re laugh is infectious. You’re the best thing about living in London. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, sweetheart.”

  I feel my heart stop in my chest. Nobody has ever said anything like this to me before. I don’t deserve to hear this, not from anyone. People I love just get hurt. “Dominic, please, stop. Please, just let me go. I need some space. I need time to think.”

  His eyes look tortured and I can see his desperation not to let me go but he reluctantly releases me and steps back. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. I need air. I make to move past him and when I get to the front door he puts his hand against it, stopping me from opening it. I turn with eyes full of question. “Let me go, Dominic.”

  He takes my face into his palms and lowers his face to mine. He looks pained when he closes his eyes and softly kisses my mouth, a feather light kiss I barely register before he puts all his desperation into one begging kiss but it remains soft and tender. When he pulls back I open my eyes and see the heart of a begging man in his eyes. “Please, Tara. Don’t let anyone else ruin us. I know we can move past this. I’ll give you the time and space you need. You’ve already taken my heart,” he whispers and I feel a lump lodge in my throat. I reach up and put my fingers to his lips, not wanting to hear another word. He closes his eyes, savouring the feeling before I chastely kiss his mouth and turn to leave.

  Once outside I call Baz who assures me he’ll be here in no time. I choke down my emotions, not wanting to think or feel anything. Not yet. Not on the street. Once I’m in the back of Baz’s Range Rover and I rest my head against the window I can’t plug up the damn for another second and a tear wells and starts a slow descent down my cheek. I quickly swipe it away and sniff.

  “Are you okay, Tara? Did he hurt you?” Baz asks in his monotone voice and I shake my head, my throat too thick with emotion to answer. “Let’s get you home, baby girl, it’s been a long night.” To this I simply nod and wipe my nose on my denim jacket.

  How the fuck did I end up here? A snotty, whimpering mess with a boyfriend I can’t help losing my heart to, but I knew it was dangerous. I knew he would hurt me, so did Shazza. Then there is Shaz, the nearest I will get to having any family and even she doesn’t want to be around me right now. She knew this was going to happen. Now I know why she looked so sad and sympathetic.

  I dial her number but it goes straight to voicemail. I look up to see we are outside my house. My dark and unwelcoming home. This is not how I expected the birthday bash to end. I kiss Baz on the head and thank him before sliding out of the car and heading indoors. I don’t even bother turning the lights on as I make my way to my bedroom and I do what any self respecting girl who just found out their boyfriend has fucked your arch rival would do.

  I scream into my pillow, beating the fuck out of my bed before the screaming turns to wails of pain and the tears fall uncontrollably. The feelings of betrayal from everyone I should trust explode through my chest and I break my heart into my pillow, letting it all out, until exhaustion takes over and unconsciousness takes me into dead sleep. For the first time since Pops took me in, I feel desperately alone.

  Chapter 12

  When I wake with that familiar dull ache in my head and eyes clamped shut with last night’s mascara I mistake it for a hangover, momentarily. The realisation that is most likely from crying like a baby hits me like a wrecking ball with spikes. Vivid memories float back to me and I groan, a guttural sound that encompasses just how shit I feel. I roll out of bed and head for the bathroom, my bladder demanding I move when my heart is telling me to stow away in bed for the foreseeable future.

  But I do not mope. I am not a pathetic moper. Even after the loss of my parents I still forced myself to live. I didn’t hide from the sympathetic stares and glances of pity from other pupils at school. I refuse to start moping now, no matter how much his lies hurt.

  I turn on the shower and strip off the clothes I slept in that have evidence of the cake fight splattered here and there. Stepping under the scolding jets I sigh, forcing myself to face the cascade of hot water even though it stings my skin. I scrub my face of make up and wash my hair twice before conditioning. A song my mum used to sing springs to my mind. In my head I’m singing the words I’m gonna wash that man right out of my hair.

  I smirk, inviting the memory that I’d long since thought about. A flash back of her singing it whilst washing my hair in the bath as a child makes me grin. The smile soon turns watery when I think how much I really could do with my mum right now. I’m sure she would have some words of wisdom. What I would really like right now though is a hug. Without realising it my tears soon start to shed into the stream of water and, rather than restrain my feelings, I let them engulf me again.

  It’s rare I cry like this about my parents anymore. I made my peace with losing them in my teenage years. I’ve accepted I won’t see them again in this lifetime and I’ve learnt how to be self-sufficient and independent. But even the strongest of us need someone in the hard times.

  Did I ever think I’d found that someone in Dominic? I think I did. Without realising, it every minute of my time spent in his presence, I was losing little pieces of my heart to him and without consciously knowing it, I was falling for him.

  Have I already fallen? Probably. I’ve never allowed myself to get close to a guy before. I knew in doing so I risked this pain and I’m nothing if not self-preservative. You have to be when you have no other blood relatives besides an alcoholic who wouldn’t give a shit if you died of starvation in a darken alley somewhere.

  Why? Why the fuck did I risk this pain? I curse myself whilst scrubbing my scalp a little too harshly. I was stupid. I let Dominic in and gave him the ability to hurt
me. Of all the people to take this chance with I put my trust in Dominic.

  Damn, you do pick them, Tara Powers.

  Did I think I was special to him? I suppose I did.

  That’s what you get for letting your ego over inflate, love. Lesson learnt, the hard way.

  A memory of his pleading eyes last night flashes through my mind’s eye and I wince. How is it even possible that he’s the one who kept a secret like that from me, yet he looks to be in more pain than me? I suppose the answer to that question can only be answered by the man himself.

  Is it all a big act? Has this whole charade been a great bit of acting on his behalf? I’m sure Shazza would say it was. But she didn’t feel his touch or hear the pain in his voice. I yank on my hair, totally frustrated and confused. I’m positively frazzled. Physically, mentally and emotionally sapped.

  I wash quickly and step out of the shower, wrapping my hair and wiping the steam from the mirror. How different I look without make up. My eyes are puffy and red, my skin washed out. I look my age and definitely the worse for wear. Thank god it’s Sunday and I don’t have to go out today. I brush my teeth and step out onto the cool landing, taking a deep breath from the suffocating steam of the bathroom. I’m just about to head to my room in search of my Disney pyjamas when the house phone ringing downstairs startles me. I startle only because the house phone never rings. Almost no one has the number for a start and anyone that has knows to ring my mobile first.

  I trot down the stairs and answer with a curious voice.

  “Tara, it’s Baz. You left your bag in the back of the car last night. Do you want me to pop over with it? Your phone has been ringing almost none stop but the battery just died.”

  I realise I can’t recall bringing it into the house with me and roll my eyes. I really wasn’t with it last night. “If you could drop it in that would be great, thanks Baz, I really appreciate it.”