Superstar

by Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

  “What do you know?” she sneered. “You’re a rich celebrity. You don’t know shit about the life I’ve lived or what I’ve been through. How dare you come here and try to tell me anything? What are you doing here anyway? Did you finally toot all your money up your nose? You go to rehab just for the publicity and to cover your fuck-ups. I’ll bet your rehab center cost more than my car…”

  Charlotte raised a hand to cut Amanda off, but Sioux shook her head.

  “That’s a fair comment. You’re right, every one of the six rehab centers I went to cost more than the mortgage on most people’s houses, let alone their cars. Unfortunately I couldn’t pay anybody to get clean for me. Believe me, if I could have I would have. I would have given every dime I have or will ever have not to go through that. Kicking is the same for everybody no matter how much money or fame they have.

  I woke up dope sick. I went to sleep dope sick. I had fever. Chills. Convulsions. I threw up until I eroded my esophagus and had to have veneers on my teeth. Then I threw up some more. I hurt from head to toe for so long I prayed for death, but I didn’t die. Being rich means I never had to suck anybody’s dick to get my fix, but it’s damned hard to get clean when you can buy every drug on the planet and pay somebody to bring it to you and cover your ass.

  Last night we got into town late. I was exhausted and lonely. I miss my family and friends. I wanted a glass of wine, but I don’t want to die and I know that glass of wine will kill me because I can’t kick again. My spirit is worn out. My soul is worn thin. I have to fight every day just like every other addict.

  The only thing that keeps me clean is fear that one day I’ll lose the war and then I’ll die. So, Amanda that’s my sobriety story; fear. Fear keeps me clean. As far as I’m concerned, your boyfriend is a fucking idiot. And you’d be an idiot to listen to him. You have to decide what your sobriety is worth to you. Are you willing to risk it for the sake of a glass of wine? And trust me, being famous and rich doesn’t help worth a damn. It just means everybody on the planet knows when you fail. Every time you fail.”

  Amanda looked stunned, but said nothing more and the meeting broke up soon after. Sioux slipped out the side door of the old, rundown church where the meeting was being held. The neighborhood was in transition; at least that's what her app said. At one point it had gotten pretty bad, but now the urban pioneers had discovered it and it was on its way to a gritty renewal, but no one had told the old building. Which, while someone kept up the yard and basic maintenance, it was obvious there was no money for major repairs or renovations. She'd been in lots of churches like this over the years. Odd how meetings always seemed to always be in such places.

  Out of habit she looked around for the telltale glint of a camera or the obtrusiveness of a telephoto lens. She hadn’t seen any paparazzi, but she could never be too careful. Frankly, at this point she didn’t care if she was seen leaving a meeting, but she did hold the anonymity of the other participants sacred and didn’t want to betray their trust even inadvertently. She was surprised to see Thad waiting for her on one of the benches that flanked the front of the church. They were very nice benches, carved from a stone that to her untutored eye looked like marble. Clearly a holdover from more affluent days at the church.

  “Fancy seeing you here. Thought you’d be back at the hotel resting,” she said as he rose to his feet to greet her.

  “Wanted to have lunch out. Want to share with me?” He frowned as he took in her appearance. “You look like hell.”

  “Oh, you’re such a flatterer.”

  “You know I’m brutally honest. There’s a coffee shop not far from here.”

  They walked to the coffee shop and after placing their orders took their seats in a booth in the back of the place. Seattle was, of course, covered with such places, but this one was actually pretty austere by the city’s standards. It looked more like an old fashioned diner than the hip shops the town was known for. She really liked it.

  She gave him an abbreviated version of what had occurred at the meeting.

  “Whoa, that’s harsh,” he said with a frown.

  “Oh please, I’ve had it much rougher.”

  “Why do you put up with that crap?”

  Sioux took a moment to think about his question. “Honesty keeps me sober and there’s nothing more honest than group. Lies and shame keep me addicted. And with some luck maybe I’ll be able to help others. Nothing keeps you accountable like another addict. They call you on your bullshit because they’ve played the same games. Told the same lies. Trust me, I’ve said much worse.” She shrugged and decided to change the subject. “Have you guys worked out the playlist for tonight? I think I might watch.”

  “You watch every night,” Thad said, frowning his confusion.

  “Yeah, but tonight I’ll be in the audience.”

  Thad snorted his disbelief. “Yeah for about five minutes before the mob scene starts. You’re the most recognizable woman on earth.”

  “Not even close, especially when I don’t want to be. I can walk down any street in America unrecognized if I put some effort into it.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Trust. I do it all the time. So what will you guys be playing?”

  ***

  Sioux sat in the back of the arena as the lights went down. She had finished her set earlier and had decided to watch Storm Crow perform. She’d watched a couple of shows from the wings, but this was the first time she watched from the audience. She had deliberately slipped in at the last moment in an effort to be discreet. Despite all her best effort at disguise it was getting harder to fly under the radar so to speak. Usually putting on some ill-fitting jeans, and leaving off her makeup was enough to let her go unnoticed. An old friend who happened to be a Yale trained actress, had given her pointers on changing the way she moved and taking on a character that could fade into the background, but tonight she’d been forced to resort to a wig to cover her trademark tresses. She didn’t like to wear a wig because it could make her disguise more obvious. Tonight though, no one was paying attention so the short bob was apparently passing muster.

  As the first notes of one of the band’s biggest hits suddenly reverberated through the venue the stage lights came on. Storm Crow wasn’t big on pyrotechnics, and to be honest, they didn’t need them. The band held the audience in thrall by pure musicianship and charisma. Sioux watched transfixed as only a hard-core fan could be as they worked through song after song. Bryan was, of course, the focus of the show, and he was an old pro. His energy and aggressive playing style was amazing to watch.

  But it was Thad who filled her gaze. His quiet, low-key style was just as compelling as Bryan’s more flamboyant look. No longer the shy teen who could not face the audience, Thad stood out almost in spite of himself. His conservative chinos, dress shirt and tie should have stood out incongruously against the slacker attire of his band mates, making him a point of scorn or a laughing stock. Instead, he made them look underdressed and less sophisticated. He wore his clothes the same way he played the guitar-- effortlessly, without flourish. And because he didn’t seek to draw attention to himself it was impossible to look away. She noticed every aspect of his appearance. Having hung out with him a couple weeks now, she knew he was overdue for a haircut, as he didn’t like for his hair to get much longer than chin length. She wished he would grow it out, but knew he never would. He played with his eyes slightly closed, so inwardly focused that he barely noticed the presence of the thousands of screaming fans.

  Helplessly she followed the movement of his hands as they tenderly caressed his guitar… smoothly… sensuously. His fingers so nimble and tender as they pulled the beautiful sounds from the instrument. Her skin grew sensitive as though it could actually feel his fingers against her bare flesh. As though it longed for the caress of the lover she’d never had, and right now wanted more than she wanted her next breath. Her breasts tautened beneath the oversized denim shirt she wore as her breath began to come in soft p
ants. As she watched on the huge screen set up above the stage, he raised his head, his eyes opening wide as though he could see her. Of course, that was ridiculous, but it really did feel as though they had made contact especially when he slowly licked his lips. The heightened awareness burned with a forceful presence that could not possibly be a figment of her admittedly fertile imagination. It was all she could do not to gasp out loud as her own tongue mimicked his gesture. Crazy as it seemed, the connection was undeniable and didn’t abate for the rest of the concert. By the time it was over, she was strung out with longing, wanting him even more desperately than before. A feeling that was not at all ameliorated by the suspicion that he felt exactly as she did.

  ***

  Sioux sat straight up in bed. Her movement so abrupt she immediately awakened Thad from a sound slumber. For a moment he thought she would go to the bathroom or get a drink of water, but he quickly realized she was shivering. He watched as she raised her hands to her face and saw that she was crying, her body shaking with each sob.

  He sat up and reached out to touch one of her narrow shoulders. “What is it baby? Did you have a bad dream?”

  She turned to face him her lips twisted in a wry attempt at a smile. “I guess you could call it that.”

  He got out of bed to get her a bottle of water from the refrigerator. When he handed it to her she rolled the icy bottle across her forehead before opening it and taking a long swallow.

  He sat down beside her on the bed. “You want to talk about it?”

  She tilted her head back and stared at the coffered ceiling for a long moment then lowered her head and gave him another one of those painful smiles.

  “Of course I don’t want to talk about it. Unfortunately I have to.” Then she closed her eyes for so long he thought she’d changed her mind. With another sigh she raised her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. “One of these days I’m going to write a book about all the stuff they don’t tell you about recovery.”

  He raised a brow in inquiry at the apparent non sequitur.

  “Dreams. Lucid dreams they call them. Lucid dreams. Isn’t that a lovely name for some of the worst nightmares you’ve ever had? Only they’re not nightmares. They’re so real I still have a hard time believing they’re just dreams. Sometimes it’s hands. Just hands all over my body. Touching. Feeling. Clawing.”

  He knew she must have read his horrified expression because she gave a hollow laugh in response. “No. Not in a sexual way. I think sometimes that would be better. I don’t know what these hands want. They just keep trying to pull away parts of me. At least if it was sexual I’d know they wanted sex. Not knowing what it’s about is just horrible. Crazy as it sounds those aren’t the worst ones.”

  “Really?” Thad said because he couldn’t imagine anything worse.

  “No.” She picked up the bottle again and put it to her mouth. She nearly drained it before speaking again. “No, the worst ones are the relapsing dreams. I see myself using again. They seem so freaking real. They’re terrifying and soul-destroying. My counselors say after you’ve been using for a while your body starts depending on the drugs. It thinks it needs them. You know, like vitamins or proteins. So it does anything it can to get them again. Including fucking with your head.”

  “Is that the one you had tonight?”

  “Yeah. I dreamed I was out clubbing and scored some E along with everything else I could get my hands on. I thought it was real. I always think it’s real.”

  The eerie echo in her tone was horrifying. She sounded so devastated that he ached for her. “Poor baby. How long have you been having these dreams?”

  “Since I stopped using.”

  “When do they go away?”

  “Apparently they don’t. One of my sponsors has been clean for twenty years and she still has them. Not as often as I do, thank God, but she still has them.”

  Thad shook his head. “Jesus. Maybe that’s why they don’t tell you about it. If it was common knowledge nobody would ever get clean.”

  She smiled again and this one was more natural as she leaned against him. “You might have a point. The only thing worse than getting clean is continuing to use.”

  He scooted back on the bed until his back rested against the high quilted headboard. She did the same then rested her head on his shoulder again. He pulled the cover up over both of them and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer.

  “Did it help?”

  “Yeah. Yeah it did. You’re a good listener. I have my sponsors and Kwai and even my parents sometimes, but it’s hard because there is stuff I don’t think I can ever tell my folks or even Kwai. I don’t want them to know some of the things I did, or how many changes I’m still going through.”

  “Why not?”

  “My folks already feel guilty enough. They blame themselves. I think Kwai feels the same way. She and Renita were right there and didn’t realize how bad off I was.”

  “I assume you did a good job of hiding it.”

  “Yeah, until I couldn’t anymore.”

  “Right, but they don’t get that.”

  “I think they do, but it’s hard for them to deal. You weren’t there. You don’t have anything invested. You can listen and not judge.”

  He nodded before he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. Her skin felt satiny smooth beneath his lips and he inhaled the subtle perfume of her skin. Almost without thought, he moved his lips down until they met hers. He moved his lips back and forth tenderly against her lips, luxuriating in the feel of her velvety soft flesh. Taking his time he didn’t demand entry just waited until she decided whether to grant him access. Right when he was about to pull away, her lips parted and the tip of her tongue came out to meet his. Just that brief touch was enough to turn that gentle touch into something decidedly sexual, graphic, carnal. His lips met hers again, begging, pleading, seeking the feel of her tongue against his own again. That silken glide was enough to melt his bones while setting his body ablaze with desperate need.

  The temptation to just take what she was offering, what he wanted more than his next breath was almost more than he could stand, but somewhere deep down he knew there was more. He didn’t know what more was, wasn’t even sure how he knew it was there, but he knew that he wanted it. Wanted the very essence of this woman and if he settled for mere sexual satisfaction he’d never have it. So, with that core-deep certainty he somehow found the strength to pull away again. She didn’t even resist, just draped herself over him with a level of comfort and familiarity that was almost as good as a good sexual romp. Almost as good. With a heavy sigh he lay back and pulled her closer.

  Awakened from a deep sleep, Thad lay still for a moment trying to figure out what had awakened him. It took only a moment for him to realize it was the buzzing of Sioux’s phone. She grabbed it almost instantly and sprang from the bed in nearly the same motion. After she hurried into the living room he could hear the soft tones of her voice. He glanced at the clock. Who the hell was calling her at three in the morning? She stayed in the living room for more than thirty minutes before slipping back into the bed. Long after she returned to a sound sleep he was still pondering that question. How did she do that? The woman could drop off like switching off a light. It wasn’t the first time she’d gotten a call in the middle of the night. He wondered if it was a boyfriend, though she’d denied having one. She had no reason to lie. Of course that left him with the question of why did he care? And he had to admit it. He cared. He cared a lot. Finally with a grunt of disgust, he rolled over in the bed and forced his mind still so he could rest. Even so it was a long time before he was able to sleep.

  ***

  Not for the first time in her life, Sioux wondered why she gave her best performances when she was at her absolute worst emotionally. Tonight the crowd was in the palm of her hand. Unlike the audience in Toronto or even Chicago these people came knowing she was the opening act. Though some of the gossip was still quite nasty, overall the r
eviews had been good. She knew B.T. was doing nothing to stem the ugliness. According to Thad, he was probably blowing it up as big as possible. Having a father who was a PR master she knew even bad publicity and gossip could spur ticket sales. The man was absolutely ruthless when it came to making money.

  She made the smooth transition from “Killer” to “A Girl Named Sioux.” She was still adjusting the song, though Thad’s arrangement was still the best she’d tried thus far. She wasn’t settled on the lyrics either, but the chorus was static and some in the crowd sang along. She had heard there was some bootleg videos of the Chicago show up on YouTube, but hadn’t had a chance to look. With the way the crowd was singing with her, she had to assume it was true.

  Just as she reached the last song of her set, she felt Thad watching from the wings before she even looked in his direction. The awareness was so intense she could all but feel his touch. He was wearing one of his typical “geek chic” outfits, including a dark colored shirt and sweater vest, though in the low light she couldn’t determine their color. His eyes though, glowed a rich gold and even from the distance she could see the desire there. Their gazes connected and suddenly it was though they were cuddled together on the bed they shared, murmuring sleepily to one another, revealing dreams and ideas. Through the thin cotton of her t-shirt, her nipples stood erect, signaling how much she wanted him. Her body was determined to let him know what he was missing despite his repeated rejections. His eyes narrowed as though he could see them from the distance and she watched as he licked his lips. Even if she wanted to she couldn’t keep the response out of her voice, which grew huskier and caressed each note like a long lost lover. She swayed as she played, her body undulating in time to the music calling her lover to her. As she watched he actually took a step, then turned and walked away just as she played the last note of the song. Having forgotten the audience was even there she was startled by the raucous applause. Well at least she wouldn’t be the only one having wet dreams that night.