Revelry (Taint #1)

by Carmen Jenner

  Cameras continue to flash, snapping up whatever they can through the tinted windows. Reporters and paps shout questions at the three of us. It’s a circus. Lenses are pushed up against the glass, the sounds of a hundred shutters fills my head, and I want to scream, because it takes me right back to that bus. On the inside, I am screaming. Outwardly, though? I remain in my seat, wedged between the boys, determined not to give the press any more blood for the feeding frenzy. My head hurts from the drugs, my body aches all over, and my heart hurts so bad it’s as though it just exploded, and I’m scrounging in amongst the debris, gathering pieces of it that I know couldn’t possibly fit back together, but I’m trying all the same.

  Grant climbs into the front seat beside a driver I don’t know, and slowly, inch-by-inch, we move through the throng of reporters and drive away.

  “Well, that went about as well as we could expect,” Levi says. I don’t reply, and neither does Coop. The three of us ride back to the bus in silence.

  When we pull up alongside the bus, the guys get out and I sit in the car for a moment while I try to process everything that’s happened during the last twenty-four hours. I’m suddenly so tired and sad, and I just want to go home.

  I feel the weight of so many sets of eyes on me, all of the band and road crew wondering why I’m just sitting here as Cooper holds the door open, but I can’t meet their faces. I lower my gaze and head for the bus, when out of nowhere I’m engulfed in Zed.

  “I’m so sorry, Ali. I’m sorry,” he chants in my ear, squeezing me so tightly I can’t breathe. His big barrel chest tremors against mine. “I’m sorry.”

  I don’t want to be touched right now. I definitely don’t want to have all the breath squeezed from my lungs because I already feel as if I’m swimming underwater and I can’t find a way to break the surface. I can’t come up for air, but I find myself hugging the giant freak back as tears drip from my lashes. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s really fucking not,” Zed whispers, and holds me a little tighter before releasing me.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” Deb says, and I turn around to face her. I’m a little surprised, actually. “I mean, what he did sucks. I’m going to string him up by his balls when I see him next. But I’m glad you’re back.” She frowns, looking down at her designer heels and then back up to my face. “Because you know … being the only female on a bus full of these idiots sucks.”

  “Yeah,” I agree half-heartedly and hurry towards the bus, because James is looking impatient, and if I know him he’s keen to get back on the road as quickly as possible.

  Ash gives me a sad smile as I walk past, and then he follows me up the stairs. Everyone boards, and the mood is so damn sombre, it’s as if we all fell into a My Chemical Romance video.

  “Everybody on?” James asks.

  “Yeah, we’re all here,” Coop says back from the kitchen.

  The engine roars to life beneath our feet, and it’s as if everything goes silent, save for the ringing in my ears. I stare at the bench seat, where Leif had drugged me, and then the world snaps back into place and I shout, “Wait.”

  Everyone turns to look at me. “I can’t do this.”

  “Ali,” Cooper says.

  “Can’t do what?” Levi asks, snagging my hand as I pass, I glance down at him.

  “Can I talk to you?” I glance between them. “Both of you, outside?”

  “You can talk here,” Coop insists. “James, start the bus.”

  “No,” I shout to James, and then, looking at Levi, because I can’t quite face Cooper’s anger just yet, I say, “I’m not going with you.”

  “Like hell you aren’t,” Coop snaps.

  “Fucking lay off,” Levi says, standing, and wedging me between the two of them. In the past this had been one of my favourite places to be, but right now? Not so much.

  “Let me out, James,” I say, squeezing past Cooper. He grabs my arm, and I whirl around to face him. “Let. Me. Go.”

  He does, but I think it’s only because he’s afraid of hurting me. He may not touch me, but his presence can still be felt right behind me as I stalk toward the exit. I spot my bag in the luggage storage area as I approach. Someone must have put it there last night, or maybe they moved it out of the way to let the paramedics through. Either way, I snatch it up and head for the exit.

  “Open that door and you’re fired,” Cooper says to James.

  “Coop,” Deb chastises.

  James raises a brow at Coop, and opens the door. “You can’t hold a woman against her will, you little shit. That’s called kidnapping.”

  “Ali, get back here,” Coop shouts, as I descend the stairs and head straight for the town car. Two sets of footsteps clatter on the stairs behind me. The driver leans against the side, having a cigarette. His eyes bug out when I approach. “Can you take me to an airport?”

  He stares back and forth between Coop and I. “Yeah.”

  “Great.” I toss my bag on the back seat and turn to face the boys. Levi stands with his hands shoved in his pockets, his expression difficult to read. He looks torn. His eyes are sad, but his gaze is stoic. Cooper, on the other hand, is furious, bearing down on me like a tornado. One that will tear up everything in his path.

  “I can’t do this anymore. What they did—what you did …” I look at Coop. “I can’t process any of that with you around. You lied to me, Cooper. You slept with me and you paid me for it.” I sniff and turn to Levi. “And you knew about it.”

  “I didn’t pay you for sex, Ali,” Coop hisses. “Where would you have gone? If Vanessa had fired you, and I hadn’t brought you with us, what would you have done then?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re not responsible for me,” I say.

  “We didn’t fucking lie, Ali,” Levi says, shaking his head adamantly.

  “Don’t.”

  “I didn’t know about the money at first. He told us about Vanessa and the record company the night we boarded the tour bus, but what does it fucking matter? His money, my money, Guidelli’s?”

  “This isn’t about the money, and you know it,” Coop says, and his eyes are blazing with fury. “You’re just fucking scared. Well guess what? We’re all scared. All three of us fucked up big time. I fucked up big time. Yes, I should have told you from the start, but I wasn’t paying for sex, Ali. I thought if you knew, you’d leave. And I couldn’t have that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I felt normal with you.” He exhales sharply. “I felt like I’d finally stopped spinning.” He runs his hands down over his face, and his expression is so miserable that I just want to go to him. I don’t. Because what would it solve?

  “I can’t be a part of this world, Cooper. My reputation is in tatters. That reporter thought I’d tried to off myself—she basically called me a drug addict. I was drugged, stripped naked, and exposed in the worst possible way, and they’re acting like—”

  “I told you I would fix it.”

  “How?” I shout. “How can you fix this? That shit is already out there. My face is splashed across every tabloid on the planet. People don’t think any less of you, of either of you,” I say, glancing behind him at Levi. “You’re rock stars—it’s all just part of the package for you guys, but this is going to follow me for the rest of my life.”

  I let out a deep, shuddering breath, proud of myself for holding it together as much as I can. “This is not healthy for any of us. It’s not a normal relationship—”

  “Fuck normal,” Levi says. “I don’t want normal. I want you and I’ll take whatever you give.”

  “Levi,” I say, my voice breaking, and the tears finally spilling down my cheeks thick and fast. “We took it too far.”

  “Fuck,” Cooper shouts. He takes a step back and rakes his long fingers through his hair. “Where are you going to go, Ali?”

  “I’m going home.”

  “And where is that exactly?” he asks, because he knows as well as I do that there is no home waiting for me. I do
n’t even have my bomb of a car anymore, because I sold it to the wreckers before we left. It wasn’t worth shit, and it certainly wasn’t worth the money I’d spend keeping it in storage for the three months I’d be on tour.

  “Not here,” I whisper.

  “Then I hope you find it.” He turns, walking back to the bus without a goodbye. I close my eyes tightly and bury my face in Levi’s chest as his arms engulf me. I sob until my voice is hoarse.

  “Don’t leave, Red,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Please don’t leave.”

  “I love you,” I whisper, and then I give him a sad little smile as I stare up into his beautiful hazel eyes.

  “But you’re not in love with me.” Levi says.

  I exhale a ragged breath and shake my head. “I wanted to. I think I did a pretty good job of convincing myself for a while there.”

  “Fuck, Red,” he whispers, sniffing and wiping away his tears before they can fall. “I don’t care. Stay. Please, just stay.”

  “I can’t.” I kiss his cheek, his lips, and finally I place a kiss in the centre of his chest, over his heart, and then I slide his hands from my body, hands that are clutching my hips so tightly I feel the imprint they leave behind. I open the car door, climb into the back seat, and tell the driver to go before I can change my mind.

  Levi tries calling when I’m on the way to the airport. I don’t answer. I just stare at my screen and cry so hard that the driver pulls the car over to the shoulder of the road and asks me if I want him to take me back to the bus. I tell him to keep driving.

  Coop had been paying my wage, and I’d spent very little of it. It was the last thing I’d ever take from him, that ticket home. I booked the next flight available, just four hours from now, and once I cleared customs I knew there was no going back. I knew I’d likely never see either of them again, and it hurt. God, it hurt so damn much. I sat in business class, and I drank whatever alcohol the flight attendant would bring me, and I didn’t stop crying the entire way home.

  That was the longest nineteen-hour flight in history. I felt bad for the man in the seat next to me. He’d sat for the first three hours listening to me sniffle before handing me a monogrammed handkerchief that I proceeded to ruin, then he gave me his mini bottle of vodka and I cried some more. He was gorgeous, with blond hair and blue eyes and a dimple in his chin. His every movement was made with dignity and the proud air of money. He was so far removed from the rockers I’d just spent the last two months with. The rockers I’d given my heart to. And I had given my heart to them. All of them. Not just Coop and Levi, but Zed and Ash too. Hell, even Deb, James, and some of the other roadies held a place in my heart. It crushed me to leave any of them behind, but by the time my flight landed in Sydney, my eyes were dry, and my conscience was clear.

  I book a cheap hotel at the airport, and I spend all of the next day lying in bed with the curtains open, watching the planes take off, and wondering where all those people were going. Tomorrow I’d walk into Harbour Records and quit my job. I didn’t want to work for a company that would exploit an employee to make a couple hundred more in album sales.

  I knew the industry was just as corrupt as the movie business, or politics, but there were things you were willing to sacrifice, and there were things you weren’t. My morals weren’t one of them. I’d worked my entire life to get my foot in the door, and then when I had just the tip of my Cons in, when all my struggling had finally paid off, it wasn’t what I wanted anymore. Maybe it was never what I wanted, and I’d just needed the Taint tour to show me that. Maybe Cooper did me a favour by insisting that I go, because it helped me figure out that my dreams weren’t all they were cracked up to be. And maybe one day I’d forgive him for it.

  “Chug, chug, chug,” my new work colleagues chant as I throw back the depth charge, shaking my head when the taste of bad beer and Bundy Rum rolls over my tongue. I’d managed to escape this torture for the last four weeks, but today when I’d tried to hightail it from the store, I’d been captured and corralled into the Irish pub down the street.

  Apparently it’s tradition for them to drag new staff members out and get them so blind drunk they spill all their secrets. Then, said new employee spends the rest of their career at VinyLust getting a ribbing from every one of their co-workers. You can understand why I’d been avoiding it for weeks.

  After I’d left Vanessa’s office, I’d found a backpackers in the city and had stayed there for the next two weeks until I’d found a job at the record store. I’d been there a week before I found a studio apartment in Surry Hills, a block and a half from work.

  Working at VinyLust was a lot like being an actor in the film Empire Records. The store was located in an old warehouse on Devonshire Street, and it was surprisingly busy. Weird shit happened there every day, mostly because the staff consisted of a bunch of very eclectic people. From an ex-banker, to an oddly reliable middle-aged stoner, to a bookish freak, to a wannabe David Guetta, to a cute yet wildly tortured indie musician, to a fat French bulldog named Wax who slept wherever the hell he saw fit … and finally to me—loser, loner, and ex-rock-star-slut extraordinaire.

  Tarsh, the owner, was cool, a thirty something single woman with shoulder-length brown hair and turquoise tips. She had a wicked sense of humour, and she didn’t take herself too seriously. She was good to work for—in fact, she’d been the only person so far that I’d interviewed for who hadn’t either flat out refused to hire me or wanted to exploit my connection to the band Taint.

  So it shocked the hell out of me when Tarsh leaned across the table at our booth and asked, “So, Ali, I’m dying to know. What happened between you and the rock stars?”

  “Was it real, what you had? Did you love them both?” Evie—the bookish freak—jumps in before I can even get my wits about me.

  Max—DJ wannabe—says, “That dude doesn’t really have a twelve-inch cock, right? I mean, surely that’s bullshit. You’re so fucking tiny. How did it fit inside you?”

  “Oh, wow, that’s a lot of really intrusive questions. Um … I don’t really know where to start,” I say, blowing my new fringe out of my eyes. I’d cut most of my hair off, wearing it in a shoulder-length bob with a heavy fringe to hide my face. I hadn’t bothered colouring it, because I couldn’t be arsed visiting a salon every six weeks for some arsehole hairdresser to pour chemicals over my head and charge me a small fortune for hours of torture. But the cut had been a good thing. Less and less people recognised me now.

  “You don’t have to answer them, Ali,” Kit—scarily beautiful tortured musician—says.

  “Yeah, tell them to fuck off,” Buzz—our weirdly grounded stoner—says.

  I let out a deep sigh. “It’s fine. You’re all just gonna keep pestering me at work about it anyway, and I’d rather you hear it from me than listen to all that crap in the tabloids. So … yes, it was real. At least for me, but I can’t speak for them.”

  “That’s so sad.” Evie’s big blue eyes sparkle with unshed tears. Jesus Christ, where did Tarsh find this woman?

  “Yes, it is,” I agree.

  “So why did you break up then?” Max asks.

  “There were a lot of very painful reasons why we ended it—no doubt you’ve likely seen some of them. But it is what it is. And, Max, my vagina is magical. You could stick any old thing up there and not find it for weeks.” I laugh, and the others do too, but there’s tension at our table, and I find myself wishing I hadn’t answered any of their questions. When I glance up, I notice Kit watching me. He’s not leering, or anything creepy like that. He’s just … studying. It makes me more uncomfortable than their questions.

  “Beer’s empty, time for a refill,” I announce, perhaps sounding a little too overzealous as I get up and snag the empty pitcher on the table. I walk over to the bar, letting out a puff of air as I think of ways to forget. Most of the time, I’m pretty good at it. Today, not so much. I order another jug of beer, and when I move away from the bar, a man’s voice stops me in my
tracks.

  “Hey, I know you. You’re that—”

  Oh my god, if he says that girl who took it up the arse in the elevator I will commit the worst sin known to mankind and pour this jug of beer all over his arsehole head. I turn around, levelling a glare on him, but it quickly turns into a grin, and I almost drop the pitcher when I launch myself at him.

  “You’re the girl I used to live with,” Tim, my old flatmate, finishes, ruffling my hair as I hug him. “How’s it going, super star?”

  I laugh humourlessly at the jibe. “It’s about to be going real well,” I say as I raise the pitcher of beer in the air.

  “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were living it up with the rich and famous.”

  “I think we need to expand your definition of that. Living on a tour bus is hardly as glamorous as it seems.”

  “So …” He smiles mischievously at me. “You and Taint, huh?”

  “Yeah.” I shake my head, not wanting to get into this with Tim at all. He was always Brad’s friend before he was mine, and though we’d come to be very good friends over the course of the time that we’d lived together, it still felt weird talking about this stuff with him.

  “Well, I can see you’re pretty torn up about it—”

  “I really am,” I say, hoping he’ll change the subject.

  “You have my number if you want to catch up.”

  “Actually, I don’t. Lost my phone,” I add, when he looks at me warily.

  “Oh well, give me yours then.” He pulls out his smartphone and he types in the numbers as I read them out.