Hard Rock Arrangement

by Ava Lore

  He laughed at me again. “Fine, fine. We won't talk about Kent's great and terrible lust for you.”

  Peeking from between my fingers I gave him the fiercest glare I could muster. He just grinned at me and took another swig of his beer.

  “Right,” I said, “let's talk about your drawing.”

  “Okay,” he said affably. “Want to see some caricatures?”

  That seemed safe enough, so I nodded.

  Reaching out, Manny pulled a small stack of cocktail napkins across the table toward him. “Okay,” he said. “Let's start with you.”

  “I hope you have your drunk goggles on,” I said.

  “Don't need 'em. Got a pen?”

  Leaning down, I dug around in my messenger bag and pulled out a pen. I handed it to him, and he stuck his cigarette in his mouth and began to sketch. Craning my neck, I leaned over his shoulder and watched.

  He was good. Like, really really good. It only took a couple of strokes of the pen before I recognized myself. Eyes too big, nose too large, but full lips and hair still decently coiffed thanks to the stylist. He glanced at me from time to time, and in less than five minutes he had an excellent portrait of me. With a flourish, he handed me the napkin and I took it, smiling.

  “Wow,” I said. “Now do Carter.”

  “Of course milady,” he replied, and started sketching.

  Another picture reeled off the pen, this time quicker. “Voila!” he said when he was done. “Now I'll try Sonya.” His cigarette had burned down by this time and he lit another one. “She'll be harder.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Her face is too perfect. It's hard to caricature someone with a perfect face.”

  I pulled a cranky expression. “Oh, so it's easy if someone's ugly.”

  He looked up at me in surprise. “Who's ugly?” he asked.

  I looked away.

  “Oh, I see,” he said. “Rebecca, I said perfect, not beautiful. Sonya's face would have zero character to it if she weren't so pissed off all the time.”

  A snort burst out of me, and Manny smiled as he began to sketch. “Let's see how surly I can make her before it gets to be too much.”

  “I'm not sure that's possible,” I said. “Sonya runs on rage.”

  He smirked. “Yes, but it's such wonderful rage. How could she be a rock star if she didn't have an emotion to pour into her music? That's why she'd suck at opera, which she trained to do. Did you know that?”

  “I read it on Wikipedia.”

  “Right, when you were getting hired. But yeah. She's just too angry.”

  “Why is she like that?” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them and I immediately felt bad.

  Manny just shook his head. “If you two ever become friends, she'll tell you in her own sweet time, I'm sure. There, how does that look?”

  He handed me the finished sketch on the napkin. Glancing down at it, I frowned.

  “It's too plain,” I said. “Sonya's way prettier than this.”

  “I don't think so.”

  “Yes, she is. Where is she? We'll compare...”

  Squinting, I glanced around the bar until I located her in the corner sitting on the sofa. It was hard to see in the dimness and my vision was going a bit wonky from all the vermouth, but I held the napkin up, studied it, then dropped it and looked at Sonya.

  “Definitely missing something,” I said. “I'm not sure what it is, though...”

  I looked back down at the napkin. Then up at Sonya. Napkin, Sonya, napkin, Sonya.

  And then Sonya looked directly at me, narrowed her eyes, then turned and whispered to the man next to her, and my heart stopped.

  Sitting next to her and staring at me, a smug little smile on his face, was Jason.

  I whirled around on the stool, my stomach dropping through my shoes.

  “What's wrong?” Manny said, but I barely heard him. My heart pounded in my ears and I couldn't quite breathe right. I stared down at my glass on the bar and watched as condensation ran down the side, pooling on the polished wood, and I realized that it was going to leave a ring. Reaching out, I grabbed a napkin and began to wipe it up. Then I noticed that there was a ring around the bottom of Manny's beer bottle, and I had to wipe that up too...

  Manny grabbed my arm, hard enough to snap me out of it, and swung me around. “Holy shit,” he said. “What's wrong?”

  I glanced back over at Sonya. She was sending me a piercing glare as Jason stared at me, telling her something. I saw his mouth quirk up in that old familiar smirk, the one that said I was stupid, that said I didn't get the joke because I wasn't good enough.

  Sonya laughed.

  I felt sick to my stomach.

  “Rebecca?”

  Manny was still trying to get my attention. I turned to him as though in a daze. “Sonya's talking to my ex-boyfriend,” I said. My lips were numb. My whole face was numb, actually.

  Manny looked over at them, but I didn't want to draw any more attention to myself than I already had. “I... I have to go make a phone call,” I said. I slipped off the bar stool, grabbed my bag, and made a beeline for the restroom. I felt Jason's eyes on me the whole way there and it took all my strength not to run.

  I burst through the door into the ladies' room, grabbed the side of the sink, and heaved. Nothing came up, and that was good because I wanted to be as drunk as possible. Hauling my bag up onto the counter, I pulled my phone out. I hadn't taken Kent's advice to turn it off, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway because Jason wasn't calling me now—he was stalking me.

  I dialed Kent's number and hugged myself as the phone rang. Shudders and shivers ran through my body and my teeth began to chatter.

  “Rebecca.”

  Kent's voice at the other end of the line. An anchor. “Jason's here,” I said.

  The other end of the line was quiet for a moment. “Tell me what happened,” he said at last.

  So I told him. I told him that Sonya was sitting with him. That they were talking about me and staring at me. That they were laughing at me. That he was probably filling her head with lies. That he had something up his sleeve, that he would hurt the band, that he would hurt me, and I didn't know what to do, what do I do—

  “Calm down,” Kent said.

  “I can't calm down!” I squeaked at him. “How can I be calm? This is the guy that ruined my life!”

  “Oh, he was the one? I should have guessed.”

  I realized I hadn't told Kent the story; I'd only told Carter. “Yes. He... shit, it's such a long story—”

  “I don't need to hear it,” he interrupted me. “You can tell me later when this crisis is taken care of. Okay?”

  I licked my lips. “Right. Okay.”

  “I think we lucked out on this one,” he said then. “I don't think you need to worry about it, honestly.”

  The blood drained from my face. “But... Sonya...?”

  When he spoke next I could tell he was smiling, as though he knew a delicious secret that I didn't. “Sonya will take care of herself. And she'll take care of you, too.”

  I blinked, stunned. “Uh, why would she? She hates me.”

  “No she doesn't. Well, not more than she hates everyone. But you need to trust me on this. Sonya will handle this problem. If your ex-boyfriend is sitting there pouring lies into her ear, I think you can trust that Sonya isn't going to believe them.”

  I swallowed hard. “All my other friends believed them.”

  “Then they weren't really friends,” Kent said gently. “You're part of the band now, Rebecca. You're our unofficial fifth member. Sonya will take care of you.”

  I blinked through the sudden sting of tears. Why was I crying? I wasn't part of the band. I was just a paid babysitter.

  “Why are you so nice to me?” I asked suddenly. “I mean, aside from wanting to fuck me, that is.”

  Hooboy. I would never have said something like that sober.

  At the other end of the line, I heard Kent suck air through
his teeth. “Because you're...” He trailed off. “Because you've helped us so much.”

  “I haven't done anything.”

  “Yes, you have. You are Carter's friend, and Manny doesn't go out with anyone he doesn't like, and believe me when I tell you that Sonya may not act very nice, but you'll be glad she doesn't when you realize that she isn't going to let someone lying about a band mate go unpunished.” He paused. “And I do want to fuck you. There is that.”

  Hearing it said out loud made me shiver. “Why don't we just do it?” I asked. “Manny and Sonya know. Why are we pretending?”

  He didn't answer me for a long minute. “I don't know,” he said. “I thought I needed to focus on Carter and the band. But... I don't know. That seems like a really weak excuse, doesn't it?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It does. Especially since I have taken care of the Carter problem.”

  Kent was quiet for a moment, and then sighed. “I don't know. But Rebecca, I don't want you to worry. Everything is going to be okay. I don't know what Sonya will do, but I think you'll be happy with the results. I'll see you back at the hotel, okay?”

  I swallowed. “Okay.”

  He hung up.

  I stood in the middle of the bathroom, trembling. I had no idea what he meant when he said Sonya would handle it, or take care of it, but I wanted to trust him. Licking my lips, I shoved my phone in my bag and went back out to the bar.

  Manny was sitting there finishing off my drink.

  “Hey,” I said weakly.

  “It was going to waste. We're going to miss the show if we stay here.”

  “Show?” I said dumbly.

  He looked at me with his brows raised. “Oh, that's right,” he said. “You've never seen one of Sonya's shows. They're gonna get her in deep shit one day, but they're still great.”

  My curiosity—and frustration—was piqued. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I said.

  “That's your ex-boyfriend, right? Don't worry, Carter told us he's an ass. Sonya will take care of him.”

  “That's exactly what Kent said! Did Carter... did he tell you the whole story?”

  “Naw, he just said that he wrote the new album with you in mind and that you had an ex-boyfriend who really fucked you over.”

  Now I felt doubly bad for thinking for even a second that Carter would tell the story when I'd asked him not to. “And?” I said.

  Manny looked at me and for the first time I couldn't detect even a hint of a smile in his eyes. “You haven't heard the album yet,” he said. “That album is money, Rebecca, and whatever that guy did to you, Carter found enough in it to write one of the best albums I've ever heard. You know, emotional. Angry. It's going to make us rich as hell and Kent is beside himself. You can't listen to those songs and not feel angry for you. I mean, once you know it's you they were written for. Now come on, this will be fun.”

  I followed Manny out the door just in time to see Sonya getting into the driver's seat of Jason's junker car. Jason got in on the other side and they peeled out of the parking lot like they were auditioning as stunt drivers.

  “We still have the van,” Manny said. “I'll drive.”

  I wasn't so wrapped up in everything as all that. “No,” I said, “I think I'll be driving.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, tossing me the keys. “Let's just get out of here.”

  We did.

  *

  We got to the hotel and I found Jason's junker without any problems. My stomach was starting to twist into knots. I had no idea what to expect, and I still didn't believe that Sonya hadn't been won over by Jason's lies. The way she'd been glaring at me made me feel queasy, though seeing Jason again after I fled was more than enough to make me feel sick. I didn't ever want to see him again.

  The drive to the hotel had put a lot of thoughts into my head. Thoughts like, How did Jason know where to find me? Or, Why is he stalking me? My phone sat heavily in my bag, a weight on my mind and my heart. The voicemails were still there. Kent had told me not to listen to them for emotional reasons, but he'd kept them for legal reasons. Now I wanted to know what was in them more than ever... except for the part where I didn't want to know what was in them at all.

  Curiosity isn't a sin, but damned if it doesn't feel like a punishment.

  I licked my lips and swallowed hard as I found a parking space—far away from Jason's car. Manny was bouncing up and down in the passenger's seat as if he'd just mainlined a pound of speed.

  “Come on, come on, we're going to miss it!”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but he seemed like he was about to piss himself so I just said, “I'm going, I'm going!” and jumped out of the car.

  Manny actually ran to the front doors of the hotel and opened them. He stood there impatiently, shifting from foot to foot as he waited for me to get my ass in gear and I almost laughed at the expression on his face—one of consternation and excitement. “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “The lobby.”

  The lobby was a very nicely appointed place, and was surprisingly full of people—mostly people in suits or nice office clothes, clearly here on business, but I recognized some of the crew from filming, too. They were sitting around with big grins on their faces and drinking coffee—probably spiked.

  Manny grabbed my wrist and practically dragged me over to one of the sofas, right near the elevators, and plopped me down. “Here, this'll be the best spot to wait,” he said. “You're going to get a great show. Actually you should get your phone out.”

  Shaking my head, I did so. The elevator doors opened and Manny made a little squeak of joy, but the doors slid open to reveal Kent and Carter. They spotted us almost immediately and hurried over. Well, Carter hurried over. Kent strolled as though he had all the time in the world. His eyes lingered on me, and I met them. There was a promise in his eyes, one that made me shiver and look away.

  There were lots of things unsaid between us. After all this was done, I had a feeling that we'd say those things. For now, we had to get the past over with, before we could move into the present.

  “So I hear the douchebag showed up at the bar.” Carter flopped down next to me. “How did he know you were going to be there?”

  “He's been stalking and harassing Rebecca for almost a week now,” Kent said. “It's likely there was some gossip leaked on a blog and he used it to his advantage somehow.”

  I had the sudden, horrible thought that Jason had been stalking me while I'd been on set.

  It didn't make any sense to me. Why would he do that? Was the answer in those voice mails?

  Now I really wanted to listen to them, and I was about to switch my phone on when the elevator doors opened again.

  Sonya came strolling out, rolling a luggage cart. She had a little smirk on her face as she pulled it behind her, and it was only when she reached the couch that I realized what was on the luggage rack.

  It was Jason.

  My jaw dropped.

  He was almost naked except for a towel around his waist. But aside from that, he was naked. Well. There were the ropes, too, if you could count them. He was tied up like a hog, a silk gag in his mouth. None of that would have been embarrassing, except for the chin-strap dildo fastened around his nose, giving him the appearance of an obscene Pinocchio. He was whimpering, and as he passed me his eyes grew wide.

  I'd almost forgotten that Manny told me to take pictures. I switched my phone on, lifted it, and snapped a photo. It was then that I realized Sonya had written across his back in bright red lipstick, “I AM A LIAR.”

  Oh my god, I thought. Oh. My. God.

  Next to me, Manny was howling with laughter while Carter was snickering so hard tears were leaking out of his eyes. It was starting to dawn on the rest of the room that something was happening, and whispers turned to giggles turned to peals of laughter. The video crew made catcalls as Sonya did a circuit around the room, her smile so huge that I almost didn't realize it was probably the first time I had seen
her smile.

  “Oh my god,” I said. “What the fuck?”

  “She does this all the time,” Carter said between giggles. “She hates it when guys perv all over her and get gross. So she pretends she wants to sleep with them and takes them back to the hotel and convinces them, somehow, to do all this insane shit, jump through all these crazy hoops to sleep with her.”

  “And they never get laid,” Manny howled. “Never ever.”

  I glanced at Kent. Out of all the room, only Kent wasn't laughing. He did look awfully satisfied, though.

  Licking my lips, I edged around Carter, who was wheezing and trying to catch his breath, and sidled up to him.

  “So,” I said. “You didn't want me to delete those voice mails because of legal reasons. But this is okay?”

  He shrugged. “I can't control what Sonya does. After all, how can we be sure this has anything to do with you? Or in retaliation for anything he may or may not have done in the past week? I haven't told anyone about those voice mails. Whatever he was saying to her at the bar had her mad enough to pull one of her tricks on him.” His lips thinned. “Those voice mails aren't enough for a restraining order and restraining orders are bullshit anyway, but they are certainly harassing. I was hoping he'd get bored and stop. Instead he had to escalate it.” He waved a hand. “He deserves this.”

  Sonya had completed her circuit of the room and was pulling Jason back toward the elevator.

  I stared at him as he passed by. He wouldn't even lift his eyes to look at me.

  “I'd better go up with Sonya to make sure he doesn't do anything to her after she lets him go and tells him he's not getting laid,” Carter said. He bounced up from the couch and sauntered after Sonya, and I watched as they loaded my shitbag ex-boyfriend into the elevator and began to chat as the doors closed.

  Then it was over and suddenly... I felt lighter.

  Not because Jason had been humiliated in front of a bunch of strangers, but because after four years of being isolated, of being lied about to people I thought were my friends, I finally did have friends. Friends who didn't believe lies about me. Friends who looked out for me.

  Manny poked me in the arm. “Hey, let's go get some drinks at the bar,” he said.