Sheet Music (Razor's Edge Book 1)

by K. L. Myers

  “Well, Ellen, this book is a little different than all my other books. I don’t want to spoil it, but I will say that this one ends differently. I wasn’t sure if my readers would be disappointed, but it appears that they are not. See, while writing this book, I actually spent time shadowing a band.” She stops briefly, and Ellen quickly jumps in.

  “Care to share what band you spent time with, Kayla?”

  Kayla shifts in her chair, looking uncomfortable for a moment, and then responds, “I’m afraid not, Ellen. Out of respect for the band, I’m going to keep that a secret.” Kayla takes a sip from the glass on the table beside her. “Like I was saying, I actually spent time with a band so I could really feel what it was like to be in the spotlight all the time.” Kayla looks a little uncomfortable but then continues on. “I knew the characters had to be portrayed accurately. Otherwise, the story wouldn’t feel real or be believable. See, Lara Reese, the main character in my book, is a journalist writing a piece for a music magazine, so her character felt normal for me to write. After all, we are both journalists in one form or another. But when it came to Richie Blade, I didn’t have the first clue on what went on around a famous rock star or even how one would think. I always like to be true in my writing, and what better way to do that than by getting it straight from the horse's mouth, or in this case, the ass’s mouth?”

  The audience laughs loudly at her comment, but I cringe at the thought that she feels I’m an ass. Hell, I guess I am an ass; I just never acknowledged it to myself. Ellen smiles brightly, mischief gleaming in her eyes. “So, is Richie Blade based on a real band’s lead singer?” But before Kayla can answer, Ellen pushes on, “Oh, wait, are you and the lead singer the two characters in your book? I think our audience would like to know that.”

  Anyone watching would notice the quick change in Kayla’s demeanor when Ellen asks the question. “No, the characters in this story are fictitious, and the story is all make-believe. But I will say that one of the band members did help me realize that there are no happy endings in life, and that is why this book is written a bit differently than all my others.”

  Immediately, I stand from the couch and start pacing. Running my fingers through my hair, I start talking out loud, not really sure who I expect to answer. “What the fuck? What did Kayla write about in this book?” Silence fills the air around me. Again, not knowing why I expected anyone to answer when I’m the only person around, I walk to the kitchen and grab my car keys. “I’ve got to get a copy of that book.”

  Thirty minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of the nearest book retailer with one goal in mind: purchase the book and get home and read it. To my dismay, the book hasn’t been released in paperback yet. If I want to read it, I’m going to have to purchase something called an e-reader. Desperation has me agreeing to anything the saleswoman wants to sell me as long as I’m going to be able to read Kayla’s book. By the time she is done, I’m the proud owner of a tablet, a cover for the tablet, a case to carry it in, and her number in case I need help after hours. Once outside the store, I toss her phone number in the trash, knowing I won’t be dialing it anytime soon, and head for home. The minute I walk through the door, I’m opening the packaging that’s protecting my newest little gem and powering it on. What the fuck, there is no book on this thing. I follow all the directions to set it up, and still, there is no book. I didn’t know what to expect, but for some reason, I thought all I had to do was turn it on, and the book would be at my fingertips.

  Frustrated and ready to toss my newest piece of shitty technology in the trash, I call the only person I know will be able to help me. I dial Jenna’s number. I’ve seen her have one of these on the bus, so I know she’ll be able to help me. The phone rings three times before someone answers.

  “Hello?” Jenna says into the phone

  “Jenna, I need your help.” The sound of desperation oozes from my voice.

  “Wow, you’ve called twice in one week,” Jenna says.

  “I know. Look, I bought one of those electronic reading things like you have, and I need help making it work.” Jenna starts laughing the minute she hears me mention electronic reading.

  “This I wish I was there to see.” The sound of her laughter stops when she hears me cursing. “What do you need, CJ.”

  A little embarrassed about having to admit that I can’t figure out how to use the damn thing, I ask the question. “I need to know how to use it. I want to read a book, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do or where to find the book.”

  Jenna seems to be amused by my lack of knowledge and begins chuckling again. “This is classic. A ten-year-old can figure out how to use a tablet, CJ. What seems to be your issue?”

  I should have known this was going to be a mistake. I don’t know why I just didn’t call my mom instead of Jenna. “Look, I turned it on, and there’s no book.”

  I have to pull the phone away from my ear because Jenna is laughing so loud. “You really are an idiot, you know that, CJ? Look, you have to download the book. It isn’t automatically on the device when you turn it on.”

  Thirty minutes and a completely amused Jenna later, I’m able to download Kayla’s book, but not before swearing Jenna to secrecy about my inability to figure out the stupid reading device.

  “You’re going to love the book, CJ. She did good, really good. Though the ending broke my heart, it was a fabulous book.”

  “What? You’ve read the book already?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Yeah, I read it the day it was released. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t buy it? Come on, CJ, she’s my friend. Of course I’m going to buy Kayla’s book and read it. I’m actually surprised that you are going to read it. You don’t seem like the book-reading type, you know.”

  “I’m not. I just want to make sure she didn’t mention any of us in the book and that she got it right. No fantasy bullshit. That’s all.” Even I don’t believe myself as I’m saying the words, and Jenna is quick to call me on my bullshit.

  “Right, keep telling yourself that, CJ. Don’t worry, she didn’t mention anyone by name. In fact, you wouldn’t even know who the band is that she modeled her characters around. Well, except for you. I could tell she used a lot of you in Richie’s character, but that is only because I was there and saw it all. Too bad Richie was such a douche who was too blind or too dumb to know how Lara really felt about him. Oh well, I’ve said too much. Read the story and enjoy, CJ. See ya.” Jenna hangs up the phone before I can ask her what the fuck she means.

  My front door opens and closes without me even knowing it. I am so immersed in the story, I don’t hear Rocky come in until he speaks. “What the fuck are you doing, CJ? Is that an e-reader you’re holding in your hands?”

  Startled by the sound of his voice, I toss the electronic device to the side. “How do you know what an e-reader is?” I question.

  “Dude, everyone in the twenty-first century knows what an e-reader is. So, answer my question, CJ, what are you doing reading a book?”

  I’ve been caught red-handed. “I’m reading Kayla’s book to make sure she didn’t make us look bad or talk about anything that happened while she was with us, that’s all.”

  Rocky slaps me on the back of the head as he walks by me and sits in the chair opposite of the couch. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, brother, and maybe you’ll start believing it.”

  “What the fuck, Rocky! You got something to say, say it. Don’t talk in riddles. You know I hate that shit.” I’m looking him straight in the eye, daring him to lie to me.

  Rocky lights up a cigarette and takes a drag before he speaks. “Look, man, I’m not ragging on you. I’m just saying you need to be honest with yourself about why you are reading the book. That’s all. It’s okay to acknowledge that you like her. Hell, if she wasn’t so innocent, I’d have asked her out.”

  My blood starts to boil at his comment, but some things are just better left alone, and this is one of those things. Nodding my head in agreement
with his statement, I let it go. “So, what brings you to my house?”

  Taking another drag off his cigarette and then slowly letting the smoke exit between his lips, Rocky sits quietly for a minute. I’m patient and don’t ask anything else because I know in his own good time, Rocky will say what he needs to. “I’ve been thinking about our next tour. We’re going to be in some places where drugs are really easy to obtain, and it has me worried. And, well, I want to hire someone to keep me on the straight and narrow. You know, in case I cave to the urge. I’ve got the drinking under control, but I don’t know if I can fight the temptation of the rest of it.”

  Surprised by his comment, I respond without thinking. “What the fuck, Rocky, you don’t trust the guys and me to keep you in line? We’ve always had your back. Why would this tour be any different?”

  Rocky stands, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s not like that, CJ. I just need someone who isn’t part of the band. It’s not fair to you guys to have to babysit me all the time. I don’t want your lives to be disrupted by my weakness. I’ve been thinking about this a lot since I got back, and it’s important to me. I just need your support on this when I tell the other guys. Can I count on you?”

  I’ve never let Rocky down before, and I’m not going to start now, so I give him the blessing he is asking for and agree to support him and have his back when he tells the others. Not that I think they won’t be supportive as well, but if it makes Rocky feel more relaxed, then I’m good with it.

  Once Rocky is gone, I look at the clock and notice it’s already after seven. I’ve been reading for three hours before Rocky got here and didn’t even notice it. Right then, my stomach decides to growl, letting me know I need to start thinking about dinner. Since my favorite Chinese place’s number is stored on my phone, I make the call and order my usual. By the time my food arrives, I’m showered and dressed in a pair of black sweats. I empty the bag and place the food containers on the coffee table. The smell of Mongolian beef, orange chicken, and moo shoo pork fills the air around me, causing my mouth to water. I twist the cap off a bottle of beer and sit back, my tablet in my left hand and a fork in my right. I shovel the food into my mouth as I continue to read the pages of Kayla’s book. Halfway through the book, I take a break to clean up my dinner mess and take a piss. I’m so worked up that there is no way I’m going to be able to sleep tonight until I’ve finished the story.

  Kayla captured the true essence of what it is like living on the road. From lying in bed listening to the engine lull you to sleep, to the late-night runs on truck stops for dinner. Even though I’m sitting on my couch, just reading her description of what it is like being on the bus for hours on end has me remembering the stir crazy feeling I get when I’m cooped up on the bus for hours on end. As I continue to read, I’m sucked in by the connection Richie has to Lara and vice versa. The more I read, the more Richie and I have in common. We’re both cynical and leery of opening up our hearts. Both of us are perfectionists when it comes to our music and writing. Kayla has pegged me to a tee. It’s not until I read her description of Lara that I have to stop reading again. Lara falls head over heels in love with Richie, but she is too afraid to tell him. She believes that the only thing Richie sees in her is a convenient fuck, someone to occupy his time until she leaves the bus and he can go back to his whoring ways.

  Resting my head against the back of the couch, I let my hands drag down my face and rest on my neck before I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. Did Kayla really think all I wanted was to fuck her? Of course, she did. I never told her differently. If I put myself in her shoes, it looked exactly like that. I left her without telling her how I feel. I didn’t even explain why I dressed and left so quickly.

  With shaky hands, I pick up the tablet and start reading again. The story continues with Lara arriving back home and publishing her exposé called ‘Behind the Scenes with Blade Runner,’ telling everyone what it’s like to be a member of the band. As the story continues, Lara never hears from Richie again, and she’s too afraid of getting hurt to be the one to initiate the contact. Lara continues to follow Richie’s career over the next few months, until she runs into him one evening at a publicity event she is covering for her magazine. They both spot each other, but neither one of them makes any attempt to speak to one another, even though they are both there alone. Every time Lara sees Richie, she finds that he is watching her, too, but she is sure it is only because he wants to make sure she doesn’t make a move toward him.

  The story ends with the two of them running into each other once more, only this time, it’s at a concert where she is interviewing the opening act for Blade Runner. When she runs into Richie backstage, he’s with another girl. They exchange pleasantries but go their separate ways. It isn’t until I read the last line of the book that I’m devastated.

  ‘Lara thinks to herself as she watches Richie walk away arm in arm with his new girlfriend, He was right. There are no happily ever afters in real life.’ THE END

  What the hell? This book doesn’t end the way I expected it to end. Kayla was always about happy endings. She believed love would conquer all, but that is not how she ended this book. The heroine didn’t get the hero in the end.

  One thing I know for sure after finishing the book is that this is not going to be how our story ends. We’re not going to be like Richie and Lara. I want the happily ever after with Kayla, and if it is the last thing I do on this earth, I’m going to get it.

  Chapter 8

  Cayson

  I lie awake all night thinking about that damn book and how it ended. How am I going to make this right for the both of us? I’ve got a month to make it right before the band and I embark on our world tour. Last year, when we planned out all the cities, I couldn’t have been more excited. Paris, London, Amsterdam, Munich, Barcelona, Lisbon, and then back to the States. A few dates on U.S. soil and then Asia. When all was said and done, the last show would be in Phoenix, our hometown. Now, just the thought of being away in another country without making things right with Kayla scares the shit out of me.

  If I leave without her knowing how I feel about her, the chances of me losing her forever are good. Hell, I might not even have a chance now, but I’ve got to try. I need to enlist my mom’s help. If anyone can help me get to Kayla, it would be her, or Patricia, but I’d rather keep this one in the family.

  I mindlessly walk to the kitchen and go through the motions of making a cup of coffee all the while trying to figure out how I’m going to get to Kayla and whether or not she’ll be willing to see me. Absentmindedly, I forget to put the K-Cup in the machine and brew myself nothing but a cup of hot water.

  “FUCK!” I yell at myself. Pull your head out of your ass! the voice inside my head screams back. Normally, I like the voice in my head; it’s where all my creative concepts come from. Some of the band’s best compilations stem from the voice in my head, but today it’s not my friend. You’ll never get her back if you can’t pull your head out of your ass, buddy. “Oh, shut the fuck up,” I tell myself out loud. If anyone walked in right now, they’d think I’m out of my mind. Actually, I probably am. Kayla is all that consumes my mind these day.

  Just go to her house, knock on her door, and tell her you’re sorry, that voice tells me. “It’s not that simple; she doesn’t want to to see me, dumbass,” I reply to myself. Yep, I’ve lost my mind. “Stop talking to yourself, Cayson,” I verbally scold my reflection in the glass insert of my kitchen cabinet.

  I place a K-cup in the machine and try brewing myself a cup of coffee once again. This time I’m successful. Cup in hand, I make my way to the table, take a seat, and let that fucking book taunt me once again. Three cups later, I’m still no closer to having any ideas that would actually work, and now I’m going to be late for my meeting with Sean. I quickly dress in my favorite old, tattered blue jeans. They’ve been washed so many times that they’ve begun to fray, but I just don’t have the heart to toss them away. They’re the exact pair I wore
the day we signed with the record label. These jeans symbolize my rise to success; tossing them away would be like spitting karma in the face, which is something I won’t do.

  As I climb into the car, I shoot off a quick text to Sean letting him know I’m on my way. Thirty minutes later, I’m pulling into the driveway of Sean’s Paradise Valley home on Mummy Mountain. The views are amazing, but it’s not me. I don’t need the prestige that comes with living in the area. I just want my life to be simple; just like myself.

  Before I can knock on the door, Sean pulls it open and steps aside, letting me enter. “CJ, we’ve got to talk about Rocky. We can’t afford any more issues, and frankly I’m concerned about him and our stop in Amsterdam. Hell, I’m concerned about him in general.”

  I sit on the couch and lean forward, resting my forearms on my legs, clasp my hands together, and brace for what’s to come.

  “We were lucky it was just alcohol this last time. What happens when it’s drugs again, CJ?” Sean questions me as he sits across from me in his favorite wingbacked chair.

  “Look, Sean,” I say, “these same questions run through my head all the time. But hey, Rocky has already been by my house, and he is worried himself. In fact, he’s being very proactive about this and wants to hire his own personal security person. Someone he feels comfortable with who will help him toe the line. He feels he’s got the drinking under control now, but he isn’t oblivious to the fact that temptation will be in his face on some of our stops.”

  Sean sits back with a look of surprise on his face. “I’m impressed.”

  I want to tell him to go fuck himself and to stop treating Rocky as a fuckup, but I don’t. I probably shouldn’t even have said anything because I know Rocky wanted to be the one to share this. “Look, he’s not going to ask the record label to pay for this; we don’t need any red flags. But when he finds someone, I want you to make it happen. You do the necessary paperwork, screening and anything else involved regarding an NDA, but I want to split the cost with him. I want him to feel like we’ve got his back and he’s not in it alone. Do you understand?”