by Kendall Grey
“I’m pretty busy this week,” I lie. “If he wants to call me, you’re welcome to forward my number.” Let him think I can’t be bothered. That usually sticks in their craws and makes them all the more eager.
“Will do,” Dodge says. “This could be a great opportunity for your band, Jillian. You don’t want to miss out on it.”
“Killer Buzz Float is living their dream as we speak. It doesn’t get much better than Just Breathe.” I puff out my chest, even though he can’t see me.
“Banging Betties are gonna hit the top ten with their latest. Guaranteed,” he counters.
“Just Breathe is already in the top ten and has been for three weeks.” Much as I’d love to take this opportunity, we have the better deal. Too bad Dodge couldn’t have waited until the tour was over. But I have my priorities, and Just Breathe is the best exposure for us right now. Not to mention, they’re genuinely nice blokes.
“All right, I hear you,” Dodge says. “I’ll let Richard know you’re passing. But do keep us in mind. We’re looking at adding another stage and need to fill more seats. Killer Buzz Float would be the perfect choice to flesh us out.”
“I appreciate that. I’ll let them know about the offer.”
“Thanks for your time.”
“You got it.” I end the call.
Why would a band like Banging Betties be so eager to have Killer Buzz Float on their tour?
“Jillian,” Jinx calls. I turn around. Her dainty footsteps on the blacktop are nothing like the jabs her feet pound behind her kit. “Any chance you could take Letty and me to the mall? She messed up her skirt and needs a new outfit for tonight. And I need a … new belt.” Guilt drops her eyes to her toes.
Maybe Toombs really can sustain a lot more than thirteen lashes.
“How does Letty manage to go through a skirt a week?”
Jinx inhales and shrugs. “Might’ve had something to do with the—”
“Is that smoke?” My nose twitches at the smell of something burning. I whip my head around to the bus. Sure enough, smoke. “Goddammit! I only left a few minutes ago. I told her to stay out of the kitchenette—”
“It was just the skirt,” Jinx says. “There was a lit candle. She spun around the pole and sort of … caught the hem on fire. But she’s fine, really. Zoe was there. She put it out super fast.”
Gavin from Just Breathe’s girlfriend does have a way with water. It’s almost like she exudes it.
“I thought I told you children no candles. Why was Letty spinning on the pole? That’s for Eve to practice on. No one else.”
Jinx looks down at her stubby fingernails. “Letty convinced Eve to teach the three of us how to pole dance.”
“With a lighted candle. In a closed space. Why am I not surprised?” I turn my face to the sky, searching for a sign. Anything to tell me why I shouldn’t strangle Letty. “Get your shit. We’re leaving in ten.”
“Okay.” She heads toward the wheeled behemoth.
“And Jinx? Tell Letty she’s in charge of airing out and deodorizing the bus.”
She nods and continues on her way.
Now I have to rearrange my entire schedule to make a trip to the fucking mall so Letty will have something to wear onstage tonight. Sad thing is, if she had her druthers, she’d probably just wear the burnt skirt. Or Porky Pig it under one of Shades’s long shirts. Nothing fazes her. She has no concept of consequences. She’s a prepubescent boy trapped in a woman’s body.
My phone buzzes again. “What now?” Unknown number. I pull the device to my ear. “Jillian Frost.”
“Richard Jasper,” a rich, slightly effeminate voice says.
Am I supposed to know who the fuck that is? I wait for clarification.
“Manager for Banging Betties.”
That was fast.
“Right. I’m pretty busy at the moment. Can I call you later?”
“It’ll only take a minute.” His condescending tone rubs me the wrong way. “I understand you turned Dodge down regarding the Rock Off tour. I’d like to speak with you in person about the matter, if you don’t mind. I have additional information that might sway you.”
Pushy much?
“I’m not in a position to hop on a plane at the moment, if that’s what you mean—”
“No, the Betties have a couple days’ break between shows. I’ll come to you.”
“I’ll save you the trip, Richard. Like I told Dodge, we’re not interested. Killer Buzz Float is enjoying a wildly successful tour with Just Breathe, and we have no desire to jump ship. Keep my number for next time, and we can talk then.”
“I’m certain you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
This guy won’t take no for an answer, which jacks up my resistance. And curiosity.
“Please, Ms. Frost?” His voice loses some of its edge. “I’ll be at Killer Buzz Float’s show tomorrow. We can talk afterward.”
I huff. “Fine. But I can only spare a few minutes. We have tons going on at the after-parties.”
“I understand. I’ll see you at the venue.” He hangs up.
I stare at my phone. That was one of the most unusual conversations I’ve ever had with a person in the music business. Shaking my head, I go inside the building. The receptionist says the venue manager won’t be in for a couple hours. Great. Another item I can’t mark off my list until later.
I return to the bus, girding my loins for the hell that awaits within. Letty’s raspy laughter bleeds through the open windows. When I get inside, she flings herself around Eve’s practice dance pole, legs split (sans burnt skirt, but at least she’s got on underwear today), hair flying. Wool-tinged smoke tops the air.
“Look at me, Jillian! I’m gonna put these stripper moves to work tonight onstage.”
I curl my arms over my chest. “Oh, hell no, you’re not. Get off that thing before you fuck up something else.”
“Hey, I haven’t broken anything in a while,” she defends, jumping down.
“The day is still young.”
Zoe Morgan stands from the couch, looking intently at her phone. “I gotta get back to our bus. Gavin’s having some … issues.”
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She frowns, her brilliant blue eyes darkening. “I’m not sure. Something back home.” She faces Eve. “Thanks for the lesson. And Jillian,” she turns to me and lays a hand on my arm, “try not to be mad at Letty. She was just having fun.”
A wave of coolness flows from her fingers into my skin. All my frustration and rage melt away. Calmness fills in their wake. It’s the most chill I’ve felt in ages. My jaw drops. That’s what we in the music biz call presence.
Zoe smiles quickly and heads for the stairs.
I follow her ass down the aisle. Damn, she’s amazing. Gavin’s a lucky guy.
Letty waves her hand in front of my face and snaps her fingers. “Hello? Paging Jillian. Eyes up here.”
I shift my focus to her. “What?”
“Wardrobe upgrade? I’ve got a hundred bucks burning a hole in my pocket—no pun intended—and nothing to wear to the mall but these Underoos. You think they’ll let me in like this?”
Jinx opens her trundle and tosses a pair of jeans at Letty. “Borrow these.”
“Thanks, Jinxie.” Letty tunnels her legs into the pants and shakes out her long red locks. “Maybe we can pick up some hair dye while we’re out. My color’s fading. Ooh! And a Magic 8-Ball butt plug. I saw one online the other day. Shades will flip his shit if I drop trou and flash him one of those.” She bends over and assumes Shades’s Boston accent. “What ah the chances that I’ll get to come in yuh ass tonight, Letty?” She shakes her butt in a twerk. “Outlook is good.”
“Letty!” Jinx admonishes, covering her smile.
“Oh, please.” Letty blows her off with a flippant wave. “Not only do you get it up the butt with a cum chaser any time you want, but you get the beads as an added bonus. I want beads, goddammit.” She stomps a foot.
Beads? As
in genital beads? I flick my gaze at Jinx, whose face is beet red.
That’s one topic of conversation I will not bring up with Toombs tomorrow over morning coffee. Although, I’d be interested in seeing them. For research.
“Settle for the pearl necklace,” I say to Letty, hoping to take some of the heat off poor Jinx. “It’s more your style.”
She and Jinx laugh. It’s hard for me to stay mad at Letty, despite her annoying antics and her penchant for starting fires on the bus. This is the third one. That I know of.
“Get your shit together and grab Eve,” I tell them. “We’re long overdue for a shopping binge.”
Letty rounds on me. “Did you really just say that? You hate shopping.”
“No, I hate shopping with you.” I hook an arm through hers and lay on a sickly-sweet smile. I’m still relaxed from my brief conversation with Zoe. Maybe it’s time I loosened the reins on Letty a little. “But in an effort to become a kinder, gentler manager, I’m making an exception.”
“Aww, shucks.” Letty snaps her fingers and turns to Jinx. “She loves me, Jinx. She really loves me!”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” I mumble.
Next action item on Jillian’s to-do list: survive a shopping excursion with the queen of Magic 8-Ball butt plugs. Pray for me.
Didn’t See That Coming
The following night, while Killer Buzz Float is onstage, I keep an eye out for Richard Jasper. I have no idea what he looks like, but he’s on the guest list. If he actually shows, he’ll figure out how to find me. While waiting, I take a few minutes to do something I rarely have time for: enjoying the gig.
Since the tour started a few months ago, I’ve paid close attention to how the kids have evolved in terms of music and stage presence. Their first tour was a hodgepodge of cobbled-together venues, many of them booked at the last moment. It was girls versus boys with a fierce rivalry between the original bands. Not ideal for touring together, but the competition between Killer Dixon and Cherry Buzz Float kept everyone on their toes.
Now that the merger is complete, and they’ve gotten to know each other in the recording studio (and in their respective bunks), things have really gelled. I truly believe the trials these kids have endured made them better musicians. Rax battling alcoholism. Toombs and Jinx with their Rax issues. Letty and Shades … being Letty and Shades.
I shake my head and laugh under the roar of the crowd as Letty sidles up next to her man and executes a slide on his bass with her tongue. Jesus. She hoists the mic in the air with her rocker fist and commences head banging. Bright red hair lashes around her. Boobs bounce beneath the too-tight belly shirt. And of course, she can’t resist flashing the guys in the front row. Foot meets monitor; well-placed industrial fan blows skirt straight up. She pretends to be coy, rushing to cover the thong underneath, but she’s learned where the best angle is for ultimate blow-age. Crotch grinding against the breeze gets the audience riled up something fierce.
Letty points at a couple guys in the first row. “I see you perverts checking out my ShamWow and caboose.” Thrust, thrust. Slap! to the ass. Whistles follow. “Can I trust y’all to drive the Letty train to its final destination?”
Oh, shit. She better not—
Her arms part Jesus Christ-style, and she nods to the guys. They nod back eagerly. She takes the Nestea plunge into the audience. My heart catches in my throat, but the fans lift her up and pass her around. The crazy bitch doesn’t miss a beat. As the rest of the band converges on the last chorus, Letty gives the lyrics all she’s got, scream-singing like a Millennial Janis Joplin. Despite the jostling and hands all over her, she kills it. Jinx wraps the song with a mighty drum finale to the tune of Rax’s and Toombs’s dueling guitars, and the fans return Letty to the stage where she hops up unscathed.
So much trust required to give complete control of your body to someone else. I have serious respect for her. Wish I had the balls to let go like that. Maybe one day I’ll find another Siren who’ll show me how to submit unconditionally.
Because, now that the moment with Siren is long past and there’s no chance of getting it back, it’s all I think about. The thrill of relinquishing my body to someone I trust, and allowing her to do whatever the fuck she wants, eats at me every night I lie alone in my bed.
The grass is always greener …
I sigh and clap as the last cymbal crash chimes.
“Jillian Frost?” a male voice shouts over the raging crowd.
I turn around. A handsome man with dark, wavy hair, piercing green eyes, and a hint of facial scruff stands behind me. He’s sporting an Armani suit, which is about as out of place here on stage left at a Killer Buzz Float show as my Brooks Brothers’ Stellita fit jacket and matching pants. I lift a brow. “Richard Jasper, I presume?”
He offers his hand. We shake. “Pleasure to meet you,” he says.
I glance toward the band as they launch into another song, and I nod away from the stage. He follows me to the greenroom where fans anxiously await Just Breathe and KBF. Nice to see so many of them sporting our T-shirts with the cassette tape logo and “Long live The Rock” slogan. If Richard needs any further validation of the band’s popularity, he’s got it here.
I guide him to a corner away from the noise, and we sit facing each other. I cross my legs. “Can I get you a drink?”
“No, thank you.” He waves me off. “I’ll be brief. I’ve been watching your band for a while, and I think they’ve got a lot of potential.”
Potential? Fuck potential. Killer Buzz Float has arrived. I bite my tongue and wait for him to continue before I give him the throttling he so justly deserves for that shitty opening comment.
“They’ve got cute, catchy lyrics.”
Did he listen to that last song? The one about climbing a guy’s pole? My simmering blood rockets up to boiling.
“Your singer has a lot of energy.”
That’s one word for it.
“And the female vibe mixed with the male guitars is a strong selling point that appeals to both sexes. I think you’ve got a winner on your hands. All you need is the right tour mates to take your band to the next level.”
I narrow my eyes on him, still as a snake waiting for the right moment to strike.
“Now, I know you spoke to Dodge about Get Your Rock Off, but hear me out. Banging Betties is slated to become the number one band in the country, and if you join this tour, not only will you get massive fan and media exposure, but your merchandise sales alone will put enough money in your pockets to make the trip worthwhile. We’re talking 250,000 tickets over twenty more shows. That’s a lot of T-shirts. Not to mention you’ll be sharing a stage with the hottest new girl band in the US. With Banging Betties behind you, it’ll be impossible not to make money.” With a smug smile, he sits back in his chair and crosses his arms.
“I guess I’m supposed to be impressed by this?” I pop my e-cigarette between my lips and pull a drag.
He frowns. “Are you not?”
I shrug. “Not particularly. Our gig with Just Breathe has been going remarkably well. They have plenty of fans to share, and their manager isn’t a condescending asshole.”
Richard straightens uncomfortably. Too bad he’s such a twat and I’m such a lesbian. He’s kinda cute when he’s not staring down his nose at me, begging for an ass-kicking.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I urge you to reconsider.” Sweat blooms across his forehead.
“Why is it so important that you book my band, Richard? You’re coming across as desperate. Is there something I should know? Are your precious Betties not bringing in the numbers you anticipated?”
“Quite the contrary. They’ve brought in more than the organizers projected.”
“Then what? Why are you so obsessed with signing Killer Buzz Float to your tour? Judging by your lackluster assessment of their abilities, I assume it’s not about their talent, which you sorely underestimated, by the way.” Nobody fucks with this band. Killer Buzz
Float is top notch, Grade A badass. Period.
“Apologies.” He leans forward over bent knees. I puff my cigarette and blow the vapor in his face.
And the backpedaling begins. “I think you have a fantastic group. With a hand up from those at the top of the rock scene, they’ll soar to new heights. We’re all about helping our fellow musicians.”
I snort. The pop-rock those girls play is definitely Top 40 material, but for all the wrong reasons. Their prefabbed sound speaks to the iGeneration, yes, but there’s not much talent to support it.
“We don’t need your help.” I keep my tone even. Just barely. I stand up. “Thank you for your time. Good luck with the rest of your tour.”
I can’t wait to tell Letty and Co. about this dick after the show. The nerve.
Richard rises. “What if I sweeten the deal, Jillian?”
“Top billing?” I suggest.
“I can’t do that. But I can arrange for a signing bonus. For you. No one has to know about it.”
“Oh, so you want to bribe me.”
What a pig. I may be an astute businesswoman with just enough knowledge of the law to make me dangerous, but I’m not a crook or a sellout. Especially not with my band. All financial transactions related to Killer Buzz Float and me are one hundred percent transparent for their benefit. Sure, I ask for a bonus every once in a while when things go well, but I would never stoop to accepting side money without their knowledge or permission.
“Not bribery.” A wolfish grin splits his mouth. “Incentive.”
I move into his personal space and drink in his expensive cologne. “Now, that makes me even less inclined to want to join your precious Betties. Didn’t your mother ever tell you honesty will always take you further than deceit?” I tsk.
Sparks of glitter dance in his emerald eyes. “My mother told me a lot of things. Number one on her list was ‘Don’t lose. Ever.’”
“How’s that working out for you?”
He smooths his silk tie, brushes a hand over the designer suit, and adjusts his gold cuff links. “So far, so good. If you join us, you’ll be driving a brand-new Mercedes this time next year.”