Tucker barked out a laugh and nudged me with his elbow. “That’s not the National Anthem,” he slurred. “It’s just a patriotic song. The fucking National Anthem is The Star Spangled Banner, you twit. And I’m singing the shit so his dick will go limp and you can start sucking off mine!”
My head felt so heavy it slammed down against the back of the fake leather couch I was sprawled out on. I struggled to get words past my lips. The room spun faster and I was just starting to feel the warmth of the mouth that was wrapped around me, taking me deep into her throat.
“Shut up, Tuck,” I murmured as I grabbed the back of the girl’s neck, threaded my fingers through her hair and started pushing and pulling her faster against me. I didn’t even know the chick’s name. Hell, I didn’t even remember how I got here. Last thing I remembered was being on stage. And all I could clearly think about was how some Taco Bell burritos would be awesome right about now.
The girl slid her mouth all the way off me, poured the bottle of whiskey over my dick and sucked it up so damn fast that not one drop fell to the floor. The liquid was cool and her mouth was hot, but that’s about the only sensation I felt. Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. I’m too drunk. Drunkity-drunk-drunk.
“Now, that is fucking talent! She didn’t spill any of it. Can I call you Hoover? Dyson? No, no…Dirt Devil. The Vacuum Vixen,” Tucker slurred.
It took all my strength to turn my head to look at Tucker. He was grabbing the crotch of his jeans and hell; I don’t even want to know what it was he was freaking doing right now. Creeper. There’s no way in hell I could cum in this chick’s mouth with Tucker that close to me, and I just knew he was looking at my junk and he was in fucking awe. I still wanted a burrito. I mushed the girl’s face off me and stumbled around trying to stand. The girl who was just blowing me crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. I couldn’t even focus on what she looked like. I thought her hair might be red…
“Come on, Shane, let’s go to your apartment,” she whined.
“No way, uh…whateverthefuckyournameis. Tuck here needs a blowjob more than I do. I’mgoingtosleep.” I turned to Tucker and shook my head; the movement almost made me fall flat on my face, but I stood my ground. Okay, I freaking slumped against the wall, but whatever. “Tucker, that was the creepiest shit ever. If you ever get that close to my junk again while it’s getting sucked, I swear I will rip your eyes out and microwave them.”
Blowjob chick jumped up in front of me and I flinched back. The room spun even more. It was like a demented out of control merry-go-round. Immediately, I feared she’d grow a pair of fangs and try to suck the life out of me. I slid down the wall awkwardly. Why the hell was the floor so close to me? Damn, being this drunk made walking anywhere so…impossible. “Dude…where the hell are my feet?”
“No, Shane don’t go! And I already told you at the bar, like fifty thousand brazilian times, my name is Jolie…Come on, let me take you to your apartment. I’ll take care of you and then we could both sleep and…”
Fifty Brazilian times? This chick is as smart as a brick. I grabbed my bottle of whiskey out of her hands. “Hell. No. I don’t sleep with girls at my place. Whatthehell?Gosucksomeoneelse’sdick.”
“But YOU’RE the lead singer! Not him.”
“Twatever, I’m leaving. And the whiskeyiscomingwithme.” That is all I am; lead freaking singer and worthless guitarist. There’s nothing else to me. Empty. Hollow. Not even a glimmer of the walking god I once was. I’m the lead singer. What the hell does that even mean? Who cares? I didn’t cure fucking cancer with my voice, did I? Nope. I sure didn’t cure cancer with my dick, so why the hell does she want to jump on it. It’s not like I’m ever going to have a thing with her.
“You suck, Shane Maxton!” The girl yelled after me.
“Yeah, but I’m not as good as you, sweetheart.”
By the time I stumbled to the hallway and looked back, the chick was sucking on Tucker’s bottom lip. With the same lips that were just on my cock. I vomited all over the rug. Then I laughed, because there was no way in hell I was cleaning that neon green puke up and I doubted anyone saw me do it. It would be yet another stain on Tucker’s rug that everyone would wonder about, like the deep red one under the table. I swear I thought that’s where he might have killed a hooker.
Stepping right over it, I staggered to the door, waved goodbye to whoever could see me and practically crawled down the hall to my apartment. Every night was the same. Every. Night. Another show tomorrow night, another party. Each one ended with me trying to…forget…
Hearing my front door slam shut behind me startled me, drowned all the voices into the outside world, and relieved me of some of my stress and anxiety. Sounds of the music and the party were gone, and finally I was by myself, where I could just be me, and not the piece of shit jackass they knew me to be. I toppled into my bedroom, reached for my guitar and poured out my soul.
Walking that long winding road
It’s dark and I’m all alone
Here I am, somewhere in here
But where the hell is home
I sing these words of sorrow for who I am inside
A boy with a tarnished halo, damaged dreams
And brothers who have lied
I pray for my grace and redemption
With hope in this human shell
Through all the smoke and ashes,
And the fires I’ve called home in hell
But, I will never regret my deed
For her, my heart still longs
Taken, she was what I was made for
All I have now are my scars and songs
And here I am
All alone again
With all my scars and songs
Strung out from this world
Where angels don’t belong
-Shane Maxton Mad World
Dear God, I fucking miss her.
I passed out, wrapped around my guitar with my zipper still open and my junk laying out on my thigh. Ready to relive the same mindless, worthless and pathetic existence tomorrow night.
Chapter 2
Of course, the party was still going strong when I woke up at six o’clock the next morning. However, by then, it had spread into my apartment and I was no longer in my room. I was in the Bone Room and I was not alone. There was a long tan body almost naked lying next to me. Huh?
She was squeezed into a tiny black skirt that was made with such little material, the soft curves of her ass peeked out of the bottom, and they were fucking smiling at me. Hellllooo.
I stood up slowly and reached for my boxer shorts that were draped over the back of the armchair in the corner of the room. After grabbing them and pulling them up quickly, I stood in the soft glow of the rising sun through the window, and gazed down at the figure in the bed I had just left. Her back was facing me, her head resting on her arm, and her long, golden blonde hair fell around the pillows that surrounded her.
What the hell did I do last night? I looked down at the girl, vomit rising in my throat, and tried to remember what happened after I played my guitar. In my room. Alone.
I remembered the knock on my door. The blonde was topless, and fuck, I am only human.
Then we were in the Bone Room and were walking clumsily, kissing and sucking at each other, tongues and mouths and fingers touching each other as we stumbled onto the bed. She pulled my boxers down and her lips were immediately wrapped around my cock so tightly, it almost hurt.
I remembered opening the slut drawer and throwing a wad of condoms at her and using them all. I took a deep, pained breath and ran my hands over my face. Guilt flooded through me, causing a thickness in my throat. It had been nine months, and the guilt was still so damn overwhelming. I did all this shit to punish myself, to forget myself, to forget Selah. I drank to forget her, to forget being what I was, and I slept with the trash that threw themselves at me, trying to pretend they were all her and trying to forget I would never see her again.
The body on the bed shifted.
“Are you leaving me already, Shane?”
My muscles tensed, and I swallowed the guilt back. “Yep.”
The girl sat up and the sheets fell from her, giving me a full view of a pair of perky little tits. She tilted her head and batted her eyes. “So that’s it? Or you want me to come back around later tonight after the next show?” Her hands slowly started caressing her own skin, cupping herself and trying too damn hard to keep my attention. She reeked of desperation and all I wanted was to take a shower to clean her scent off me.
The mattress on the bed creaked loudly as she kicked the rest of the sheets off and slid her hand suggestively down her stomach and under her little skirt. She lifted up the material so I could see her fingers as she ran them through her wet skin. She spread her legs real wide as I watched the show.
I shook my head and gave her my sexiest smile, “Nah, thanks though. It’s been…fun.” Turning, I walked to the door and then gave her one last glance. “You need a cab or anything, just let one of us know.”
“Are you kidding me? After everything we did last night, that’s it?” She shrieked. “I-I thought that we were fucking amazing together. I-I thought…”
I spun on my heels and cocked my head at her. “You knew the deal when you knocked on my door.”
She bolted up, grabbed her shirt off the floor, yanked it over her head, and glared at me. “Do you have any respect for women? Do you give a shit about me at all?” Her shirt was on backward, so I laughed. She threw a pillow at me.
I crossed my arms over my chest, “When a stranger walks herself into my fucking private bedroom, tits all out, begging me to use her for a night, I fucking will. Why the hell not? You didn’t care much about yourself or your safety last night when you crawled on a stranger’s lap and bounced up and down on his cock. Why should that stranger give a shit about you after? I don’t even know your name. A guy is only going to treat a chick the way she treats herself, and if you don’t respect yourself, then why the hell should I?”
Storming out of the room and into my bedroom, I slammed my door shut and locked it. Fuck everyone. I didn’t understand any of these humans or there crazy-ass emotions that I was now terrorized with. Collapsing on my bed, I slept until my alarm woke me to get ready for our next gig.
As I mindlessly got ready, my stomach clenched, knowing that I would repeat the same shit as the night before.
The night started the way it always did, with the guys and me meeting up at the bar before a gig. A crowd of girls sat at the table next to us as we horribly tried pick up line after pick up line on them. We all made a game out of it, because really, after a show, every girl that said no to us would be on her knees in front of us later, mouthing how great we were. Every girl. Any girl. No problem. I had yet to meet a girl who knew the word no. Not when the guys from my band, Mad World, was around anyway.
Tucker, who wasn’t even in the band, was the best at the game, but thatʼs because he had the worst pick up lines in the world. I believe he had a book somewhere where he wrote them all down.
“Great legs, what time do they open?” Tucker called out to the girls, laughing as he did so.
Chuckling, I chimed in. “If I flip a coin, what are the chances of me getting head?” The girls made disgusted faces in our direction, shaking their heads in disbelief.
Alex, my rhythm guitarist and keyboardist, elbowed me in the gut to listen to his line. “Hey, how about you sit on my face and let me eat my way to your heart?” He shoved his tongue between two of his fingers and wiggled it towards the girls sexually. I laughed harder.
Brayden, my bassist, snorted like a pig and beer shot right out of his nose. Howls of laughter rang out from our table. Then he called over, “I got the F-C-K. All I need is U!”
Ethan, my drummer just laughed along with us. He never participated in our immature games. Heʼd be the first one of us divorced with 2.5 kids and a dog. Probably a freaking cat too.
Tucker rolled another out. “If this bar is a meat market, you must be the prime rib!” That caused the girls to stand up and move to another table farther away from us idiots. All except one light haired girl who flipped me her middle finger, but stayed firmly planted to her seat, crooking her lips into a sexy little smile. Easy.
I got up from my seat and leaned over her table, right in front of her face. “I would love to,” I whispered. I held my hand out for her, and just as I thought she would, she grabbed it with sweaty palms.
I took her into one of the back rooms. It was as good a place as any to get laid. Most of the time, I was too uninspired by the easy women that opened up their legs for me even to bother to take them home. And they were all easy. I didn’t even have to look anymore. They just jumped in my arms after a show. Let’s be honest, they jumped right on our dicks right after a show, no need to sugar coat it. It is what it is. Easy.
The girl walked right into the storage closet, lifted her skirt to her waist and bent over, ready. She wasn’t even wearing any fucking underwear. Holy shit. Maybe I should use two condoms with this one if she’s that fucking easy. She leaned over a shelf full of cases of beer, stretched her chin over her shoulder and smiled, “My name’s Crystal.” Now she tells me?
“Hey, hi. Nice to, uh, meet you,” I laughed. What the hell did I care what her name was? I was never going to use it.
She turned her head around, spreading her legs wider. “God, I can’t wait to tell all my girlfriends I hooked up with the lead singer from Mad World. Those girls I was sitting with just now, I just work with them. They don’t know how famous you are.” And there it was, the reason my cock got so much action. I was Shane Maxton, lead singer of Mad World. Famous. Yeah. No one knew who the hell I really was.
I was happy when she turned her head back around, because I wasn’t particularly in the mood to look at her face anymore, and her damn voice was threatening to make my poor dick go limp.
“But don’t think I do this sort of stuff often,” she said looking back over her shoulder as I slid on a condom. “I don’t want you to think I’m easy,” she said huskily.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re easy,” I chuckled. I grasped her bare hips and slid inside her so easily I knew damn well she was probably the easiest girl I’d ever met.
She moaned loud like a porn star, which just made me laugh. I watched her buck up against me with detached interest and checked my watch. I had about ten minutes until I needed to be on stage.
Crystal shrieked, hollered, moaned, talked dirty, and at one point, which scared the freaking hell out of me, she neighed like a horse. I’m not lying. When I felt her tighten around me, I let myself release, taking only a small amount of the knotted sexual tension from my body. It would have been better jacking myself off. I wouldn’t have gotten such a freaking headache, and I was alone either way, anyway. I smacked her on the ass and pulled myself out. “Thanks, babe. See you around.” By the time I reached the door, I completely forgot what she said her name was.
I walked out of the closet and sauntered onto the stage. My body should have been satisfied; relaxed, but it never was after I was with a girl. It twisted in knots and made me want to go to confession. Now that’s the most ironic thought ever.
As usual, someone’s black lacy bra flew into my hands. I should open a lingerie shop with all the crap these chicks threw at me, I’d make a mint.
And, just like I did every night before I played, I searched the audience, looking for something I had no idea of, just knowing that something was out there somewhere and that one day, if I found it, I could go back home. Back home to see her.
I grabbed the microphone. The vision of Selah clouded my mind, the way she always did before I sung. Although, it had been so long since I’d laid my eyes on her, her image thinned and blurred, and I feared one day soon, I wouldn’t be able to remember how beautiful she was.
I started the set with a slow song that always made me think of her. My body trembled, just remembering how her hand felt in mine, but th
at was long ago, and I knew I’d never see her again. She was dead. All I had was now, and the dozens of empty girls I could stick my dick in to try to forget about her. I slept with any damn girl that I could, just to erase her. Any kind of girl, tall, short, blonde hair, red hair, any girl that didn’t look like my Selah; all they had to do was smile at me and I was in.
The rest of the songs blurred by, the audience radiated, echoed my energy; making me feel like I still had wings and could soar above them.
The music took over and I shoved all thoughts of her in my head away. I hid them deep, so I wouldn’t think about them for the rest of the night. I would never be going home. I would never get my wings back, and I would certainly never see her again. That time was gone, over, done. There was no love or hope for me in this world.
Just then, slapping me from my thoughts, an awesome brawl erupted in the middle of the dance floor. From where we stood on stage, we saw the entire thing, fists flew; some great roundhouse kicks and an unbelievable back flip. Finally, something that made me feel again. My body grew raw and itched to feel the violence. God, did I miss the sweet violent madness of dishing out the wrath of God.
That’s when I noticed her.
The stage lights glimmered on a whirl of long, shiny, jet-black hair, bringing out its hidden midnight blue highlights. She balanced two drinks in her hands, which were made of the milkiest ivory skin I had ever seen. Her face peeked out from behind the veil of her dark hair and I would have given a limb to see the rest of her features, that’s how much her essence intrigued me. The waves of rage that had come over me from watching the fight turned into a slow burning carnal hunger. My heart thundered in my chest erratically.
One of the brawlers hit his elbow right into some little blonde wispy chick that bounced right off the raven-haired girl. Her drinks splashed up and spilled down the front of her white tee shirt. She threw down the empty cups and yelled a string of profanities.
Scars and Songs (Mad World) Page 2