by T Gephart
“Montreal? Fuck, dude. That was an eternity ago. That hockey game changed the band lineup forever.”
“I’d say it was more the bar fight than the hockey game.”
“Right? Holy shit, that was a good time. Dan had a black eye for days.”
“He probably shouldn’t have asked the goalie’s girlfriend for a blowjob.”
We both laughed. Just as we had after the fight, which not only served as our introduction but changed things for all of us.
Back then Power Station was a foursome, still finding their feet. No deals, no labels, just the music. James had managed to secure them a gig across the border, which made for a nice addition to their resumes—international gig. The fact the Rangers were playing that weekend had sweetened the pot, hell they would have played that shitty sports bar for free. My reasons for being there were very different.
Traveling alone, in the hopes of getting so drunk I’d forget the misery I’d left back in Albany, I’d found myself in the very same bar. Dan’s mouth had got him to trouble; something that I would later learn was typical and expected.
Jumping into the fight wasn’t something I thought about. In fact, it had been the exact opposite. I hadn’t been thinking. But taking a right hook to the jaw beat the hell out of sitting in that seedy, worn booth alone feeling sorry for myself. And at that point, the reason to get up was as good as any. My assist helped even out the numbers between Canadians and Americans. I didn’t even care why I was hitting people or getting hit, it just felt fucking fantastic to not be dealing with the messed up slide show I had repeating in my head. The conversation we’d had after, while icing up and swapping names, was when shit turned out to be a game changer.
Their band had been good, even in my half-hammered state I’d seen it a mile away. They just need something else—me. Who even remembered whose idea it had been, but it wasn’t much of a discussion in any case. We’d all sobered up and drove back to New York, where I was crashing at Troy’s till we got our plan for greatness sorted. I didn’t even go home to say goodbye. There was no need and my folks more than understanding of the whys, shipped my shit to Troy’s address the week after.
“So what’s got you thinking about that? Getting sentimental in your old age?” Troy’s sideways glance concerned about where this was leading. It had been a while since we’d taken that stroll down memory lane.
“Watch it asshole, I’m not yelling at the kids to get off my lawn just yet.” It had also been a while since the three years I had on them came up in discussion. Still, it was all about the classics tonight it seemed.
“Probably because you can’t hear them, maybe turn the hearing aid up. How old are you now? Forty-five? Fifty?” The bastard laughed, thoroughly enjoying himself.
“Thirty-five and I could still out run all of you every day of the week and twice on Sunday.”
“No doubt.” Troy nodded, the look on his face easing away from yanking my chain to respect. “You got something on your mind, brother?”
Ha. Where to even start on what was on my mind? So many scrambled, messed up thoughts, and they all were given birth to by the same fucking woman.
“Em.”
Just saying her name made me want to glass myself in the face. The goddamn hate and rage that those two fucking letters came with, it was a dangerous place to be.
Not the same kind that I was in when I thought of Angie. No, while that had the capacity to make me act irresponsible and make bad decisions, it wasn’t the kind that was going to see me doing jail time. Which is exactly where I would have ended up if I hadn’t have left Em and my hometown behind. The band, it had been more than just a gig. It had saved my life. Saved me from a road that there would be no coming back from, and that’s why I’d take a bullet of any of them.
“Not a name I hoped to be hearing.” Troy’s lowered voice kept our conversation tight between us. Best we didn’t do a show-and-tell, especially not here.
Yeah, not a name I wanted to be saying either. But no amount of booze, women, time or fucking distance would ever jack that evil bitch from my mind. Like a motherfucking scab that could be picked off at a moment’s notice and open the festering wound. There weren’t many people that I hated; in fact that list was reserved for just one. Her.
“The flashback isn’t intentional and my feelings of zen aren’t cutting it tonight.” Even Mother Teresa would have had her work cut out for her. Em, was pure evil and if the devil hadn’t claimed her as his own it was because even he didn’t trust her.
“Fuck,” Troy warned, not even trying to hide the concern in his eyes. He knew how quickly it could go bad. “She’s not worth it, Jase. Don’t get pulled back in.”
“Trust me, not going there.” Not unless I was willing to give up everything I’d worked for in the time between leaving her and now, and I sure as shit was not giving her that satisfaction. The bitch had taken enough.
“You better not be. Seriously, Jase. Don’t go there.”
He knew. Knew where the road would lead, had seen it first hand as I busted some asshole’s nose for no fucking good reason other than I was itching to get into a fight. Because of her, because of what she’d done, and because of what I had become in the aftermath.
My gaze flicked over to Angie and I felt like I was going to be sick. Her beautiful eyes sparkling as she enjoyed the fuckwit putting on his lame-ass moves. And so she should. At least he was being honest with her, not like I had been. I hadn’t even been fucking honest with myself that night, fooling myself that I could sleep with her and shit would all be okay. Right, and we all lived in fantasyland where leprechauns sat on buckets of gold and assholes like me didn’t use a sweet girl like her.
That’s what it had been, no point pretending like it wasn’t. I’d wanted her and I took her, not even giving the consequences a second thought. Her feelings, they’d also been on the backburner because if I’d given half a fuck about anyone but myself, I would have gone and screwed someone else. Anyone else but her. Yet, here we were.
“Hey, do you think anyone would care if I bailed? I know we were supposed to be doing the hanging-as-a-band shit tonight, but I really want to get out of here.” Not just to get this twisted stench of misery off me, but also to stop me from having to watch Angie score. Both primed to push me over the edge.
“Do not call her.” Troy grabbed my arm as I got up to leave.
“I won’t, trust me. I promise you, I’m not stupid enough to make that same mistake twice.” I’d rather cut my own dick off than see or speak to her again.
“Then go do whatever it is you need to do to get your head right. I’ll handle the Q and A if anyone sticks their nose in.” Troy gave a slow nod, giving me my out.
“Thanks.” I met his eyes and nodded. I wasn’t just thanking him for this. It was more. Much, much more.
“All good, brother.”
“See ya.”
No one noticed me leaving; they didn’t even look up. The conversations had balled together to become a big amount of white noise.
It wasn’t just about Em, although she was the springboard. I needed out, in a big way.
Troy was right about one thing; I needed my head right. That shit getting revisited wouldn’t help anyone, least of all me. It was done and buried. Move on, asshole. Which is exactly what I intended to do.
Waiting outside was our driver—not TJ the guy who usually ferried us around—Jake, the dude we took on tour with us. The ex-seal also doubled as security. It was a pain in the ass but that was our life now, so rather than pissing and moaning about it, I just accepted it.
“G’evening, Sir.” Jake stood to attention as soon as my boots hit the outside sidewalk. Though I doubted he’d been chilling even before I’d appeared. Old habits died hard, and despite this guy leaving the Navy a long time ago, he was still rocking the service before self mentality.
“Dude, it’s just us. You can lose the sir.”
“Sorry, s—” He caught himself for finishing. “I’m
working on it.”
He held the door open of the blacked-out SUV and waited for me to get inside before swinging around to the driver’s side and climbing in himself. “Where do you want to go?”
“Drive around a little. Maybe find some company.”
Yeah, ’cause sex is always the answer. Great. I really was a motherfucking asshole. Well, I might as well not fight the tide; it’s probably the reason why I was in this damn mess in the first place, trying to be something that I wasn’t. I wasn’t boyfriend material. I fucked and I left, that is what I had told Angie so why I was trying to pretend that’s not what I was going to continue to do was beyond me. Best I set things back to the way they needed to be and the sooner, the better.
Riley was sweet, as was Ash’s brother Liam, but there was no way I would be hooking up with either of them. How could I even go there? Nope, I need more degrees of separation than that. Pity, because Riley was good looking. My future self will thank me when I’m not doing the walk of shame tomorrow and having to look Ash in the eye. It would be too weird, even for me.
“Crap, my phone is completely dead.” Stupidly I shook it like it would suddenly spring back to life. Predictably the red flashing battery icon didn’t change, with the last gasp of juice evaporating and the screen shutting down. Awesome.
“You need a phone, Angie? Here use mine.” Riley pulled his iPhone from his pocket and placed it on the table. His smile telling me he was offering me more than just the use of his minutes.
“Thanks, but I was actually looking to email my dad.” It had been less than twenty-four hours since I’d left New York, and while my brain told me he was a grown man capable of looking after himself, I still worried. It was the good Catholic, Italian upbringing unfortunately. Here, have a side of guilt with your lasagna.
“Hey, Angie. You need something?” Troy lifted his head from the other end of the table, his concern working overtime between keeping tabs on me and fussing over his knocked-up wife. Megs looked thankful that he found a new target, the smile she directed at me hinting we were both in for a long haul.
“Yeah, I just wanted to email my dad, but my phone died. The battery life is a joke.” I shoved the phone back onto the table; it’s not like it was any use to me anyway in its current state. “It’s just this nightly thing. Keeping an eye on him. I haven’t left him alone before; I just like to check he hasn’t burnt the house down or forgotten how to program the DVR. It’s lame.”
“It’s not lame, I’m sure he appreciates knowing you are okay. Can’t be easy for him, you being so far from home.” Megs gently rubbed her small but growing bump. Troy followed up with a nod.
“Yeah, well it’s going to take a while for this stupid thing to charge. I should probably head back to the hotel.” I started gathering my things and wondering if it would be cool if I snagged the use of one of their drivers. They had two after all, and it’s not like I’d keep him occupied for long. The idea of getting into another cab and playing Russian roulette wasn’t ranking high on the way I wanted to spend my evening.
“We have a computer in the office you can use?” Ash offered, her chair shifting back as she moved to get up.
“It’s cool, I should be getting back anyway.” The attention everyone was suddenly paying me, making me uncomfortable. No need to get excited people, just let me slink off and send the email. “Besides, I want to go over a song. It’s new.”
“I chose it,” Rusty unhelpfully added, his fork waving in the air as he finished his second serving of dessert. The man could eat anything he wanted and still not get fat. He really did have such a charmed life.
“You want to use my laptop? It’s hooked up to the Wi-Fi in my room. Just get Brad to take you back and send your email from there. Saves you waiting for your phone to charge. Megs wants to hang with Ash a little longer before we head back. Let me just grab my key.” Troy reached into his pocket and pulled out the small credit card-sized plastic keycard.
“It’s okay, I don’t want to put you out. Besides, as soon as I plug in, it will power up enough to use.” Seriously, could everyone go back to their pie and not worry about me?
“Yeah, but didn’t you want to go over a song as well? Just let the freaking thing charge properly. It’s a computer, Angie, no big deal. Here’s my room key. Jase, Dan and I are on the top floor. Just use the keycard to get access to our floor and in the shared living area is the desk. It’s sitting right on top.” Troy extended his hand, the plastic keycard in it waiting for me to take it.
“Are you sure? Won’t someone be up there?”
It hadn’t escaped my attention that he had listed the occupants of that particular floor. Himself and Megs, Dan and Ash, annnnnnnd Jason. Who at some point before we’d even eaten dinner had slipped out and was currently MIA. Not that I was worried, I mean it was none of my business, he could be doing anything he wanted, and I so would not care.
Not at all.
Not in the slightest.
Just as long as he wasn’t there.
I could still not care and not want to be alone in a room with him. That still counted. Well it did in my book, and my book was the only one that mattered.
“Jase is off somewhere, and the rest of us are here, so you’re good. Trust me, no one is up there. Do what you need to do and then leave the key on the desk. We’ll use Dan’s when we want access.”
He had been very non-committal about Jason’s whereabouts. Somewhere was not a place. In fact it was the absence of a place and not where you’d want a member of your band to be, especially if they were famous. Surely their record label had them all micro-chipped or tagged or whatever. So either Troy knew, and didn’t want to say, which was completely plausible—we’d already established it was none of my business—or he genuinely didn’t know, which you had to wonder why he wasn’t more worried.
Not my problem. Well, that’s what I told myself as I grabbed the key from Troy and got ready to leave.
“Thanks, Troy. I owe you.”
“Let’s say you coming on tour with us made us even.” He gave me a smile and went back to the conversation at the table, his arm slung back around Megs.
I gave everyone a wave and “see ya” as I made my way to the door, Riley offering to “walk me out,” I guess in case I got lost. It was a complicated journey, the ten-foot straight shot to the door.
“So you’re going?” Riley asked, making an exaggerated puppy dog expression in what I can only assume was a show of disappointment.
“Yeah, I have stuff to do.” Email my dad, learn a song and not have sex with you. “It was cool meeting you though; if you are ever in New York you should look me up.” Oh please don’t look me up, why did I say that? “Um ... So ...”
I wasn’t sure whether I should wave, offer him a handshake or a hug. High five? Did I mention how bad I was at small talk? I literally sucked.
“It was good meeting you, too.” He pulled me in for a hug, solving the what-do-we-do problem. I still wasn’t sold. Too much touching and I’d already established how I felt about strangers touching me.
“Alrighty. See ya.” Clutching Troy’s keycard and my dead phone as I gave Riley a friendly tap on the back and made my way to the waiting SUV. There was only one still parked beside the pub. The other one probably wherever Jase had disappeared to. The magical land of somewhere, no doubt. At least I wouldn’t be running into him. Definitely a positive.
Brad, the driver who took me back to the hotel, didn’t speak. Not unless you counted his nods and grunts as communication. In any case, I was happy to not have to make small talk. Plus he looked liked he ate a side of beef at every meal—there’s huge, and then there was the whole fuck-are-you-a-person-or-a-planet mystery—when was the last time anyone saw the Incredible Hulk? Are we sure he isn’t moonlighting as Power Station’s security? I’d say it would be foolish to completely discount the theory.
As the elevator doors opened on the floor the trio’s rooms were situated on, it was clear how different the
ir suites were from ours. Our hotel rooms were lush, stunning even, but this was something else. It was like our rooms, only on steroids.
A huge shared space stretched out in front of me. The three large wooden doors to the penthouse rooms decorated the periphery, past all the expensive furniture and obscenely large flat screen television.
In addition to the television—or time traveling portal, it really could be either—were two huge leather couches, a massive mahogany desk and an office chair. Thankfully the laptop was where Troy had promised, sitting on the desk. That meant I didn’t have to snoop around in bedrooms. Because that would have been bad, right? I had no interest in seeing where Jason slept, or what his personal space looked like. Being in his apartment had been bad enough; I mean his bedroom, even if it were just a temporary one would be bad news, right?
No.
I’m not looking. No reason to. I’m sending my email, downloading my song notes, and getting the hell out of here. Focus. This wasn’t a reconnaissance mission.
I fired up the notebook, the screen illuminating as it came to life. Thankfully I was able to log in as a guest without the password, seeing I hadn’t bothered to ask what it was. The flashy Dell was so much fancier than the archaic piece of shit I used at home.
As I sat at the desk in front of the computer, I felt like I was somehow breaking and entering. Out of place. I knew I had Troy’s permission, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t belong. Maybe it was the excessive luxury of the room, or perhaps the state of the art computer, but it reminded me that this was not in fact my life. It was an altered reality, a ride at an amusement park. As awesome as it felt, it would inevitably end and we’d have to get off the Ferris wheel and go back home.
My fingers clicked away at the keys as I quickly logged into my email account and accessed my inbox. The message I composed was short and to the point. After all, I had mapped it out in my head on the ride over. Get in, reassure my dad all was fine, ask him how he was doing, send the thing, and get the hell out of their room. Simple. Or so was my plan.