Dirty Like Seth_A Dirty Rockstar Romance

by Jaine Diamond

  I was starting to freak out. My lunch sat in a glob in my stomach.

  “I’m heading to the airport in a few minutes. You know… I should get back…” He trailed off.

  “Oh,” I said, again. “Okay…” I had no idea what he needed to get back to, but suddenly I felt weirdly betrayed. Like there were all these things about his life I didn’t know, but maybe I should know… and yet, I had no real right to know.

  I was getting pissed off, actually. Anger; a knee-jerk reaction to him leaving and me not knowing what the fuck to do about it.

  I couldn’t do anything about it. He didn’t owe me anything.

  But I didn’t want him to go. Not yet.

  “Do you have to go?” I asked, desperate for some excuse to slow his departure. “I mean, I’m staying a few more days. We could fly back together.” I’d been planning to stay as long as I could; maybe longer than I’d originally intended. I’d spoken to Woo yesterday, and he’d assured me I could stay forever. “Woo doesn’t mind,” I told him, though I knew the real reason I’d become so comfortable here, and it had little to do with Woo’s open door hospitality.

  It was all Seth.

  “That’s not a good idea, Elle,” he said, his voice a little rough, but his gaze steady on mine.

  “Why? Is this… Is this about the pictures?”

  “It’s not about the pictures.”

  “Did someone say something to you?” Shit, did someone call him and threaten him or something? One of the guys in the band? Brody? Ash?

  “Elle… I don’t want to cause you any more trouble than I already have.”

  “You’re not causing trouble, Seth,” I insisted. “It’s trouble that was always there.”

  “I’m not making it any better.”

  “Actually,” I found myself saying, “you are. It’s been great having you here.”

  “I’m sure Ash would see it differently.”

  “I don’t care how Ash sees it.”

  Our eyes were still locked. I couldn’t quite read the look on his face, other than the fact that something was telling me he did not actually want to go. He was just trying to do the right thing.

  And something deep inside me twisted inside-out.

  “I want to thank you, for what you’ve done for me,” he said, in a soft, low voice. “Bringing me here. Talking to me. Extending that olive branch.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, Seth.”

  Silence.

  And yes, there was something in his eyes. Something he wasn’t saying. Something that was absolutely burning with need.

  It wasn’t the same need I’d seen in his eyes before, back at the audition: the need for redemption, acceptance.

  This was something else.

  And I felt it, too.

  “Thank you,” he repeated.

  Then he looked away. He stood, and I watched him turn and head into the house. He hadn’t even drank his coffee.

  And that was it.

  Seth was gone.

  Mid-afternoon, the intensity of the sun drove me off the beach; it was crazy-hot today. I made my way back up the rocky path through the trees in my bare feet, slowly, enjoying the fragrant, coolish air between the trees. Or trying to enjoy it.

  I was wearing a light, lacy cover-up over my bikini, and it was fluttering around me in the breeze. This feeling; this was why I came to Hawaii. Peace. Quiet. And that ever-present ease in the air, the smell of the ocean, the flawless blue skies.

  Paradise.

  And yet, with Seth gone… it didn’t feel the way it should anymore. I just couldn’t absorb any of it.

  I’d spent an hour on the beach, alone, and I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t stop wondering if there was something I should’ve done differently, said differently, to somehow make him stay.

  It was a dangerous line of thought. Too close to the questions I’d asked myself in the days and weeks, and even months, after Jesse left me.

  I’d been avoiding my phone since that phone call with Ash, but now, as I reached the top of the path and stepped through the trees, I realized maybe I should’ve been answering it.

  Because there was a camera crew in Woo’s yard.

  It was Liv, standing on the back patio with Joanie, and a camera guy sitting nearby, tinkering with his camera, setting it up on a tripod.

  “Fuck.” I stopped up short. “Seriously?”

  Flynn, who’d been trailing silently in my wake, stepped past me. “I’ll get rid of them.”

  “No.” I caught his arm, stopping him. “I want to see what she wants.”

  I already knew what Liv wanted. More “sound bites” for the documentary series. And if she’d come all the way here, to talk to me, when there were plenty of other band members closer to where she was that she could be harassing… this was about Seth.

  As I stepped through the gate, they all saw me and Liv smiled.

  “They just got here,” Joanie explained, hurrying over to me, probably expecting me to be pissed. I wrapped my cover-up around me as I approached, though they weren’t filming. “I was just on my way down to tell you. You weren’t answering your phone…”

  “The tripod’s a tad presumptuous, Liv,” I told her as I reached her on the patio. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, and I didn’t want her to think crashing my vacation time with a camera was in any way okay with me.

  Brody would be hearing about this.

  “Well,” Liv said, “I was hoping I could get that footage. You know, you, on camera, sharing your thoughts about Seth Brothers and whatever’s going on between him and Dirty.”

  “You should’ve called.”

  “I did,” she said. “So did Brody.”

  Great. So Brody knew about this. Approved it, maybe.

  He’d definitely be hearing about this.

  “I have nothing to say right now. I’m on vacation.”

  “I realize that,” Liv said. “And I’m sorry. But the band is planning to resume auditions as soon as you’re back, and the footage of Seth’s audition is likely going in the show, which means I need someone to talk to me about it. And since you came here with him, I figured, you and he must be…” She trailed off. Apparently, even Liv didn’t have the stones to outright accuse me of screwing Seth. “Friends?” she finished.

  “I told you. I have nothing to say.”

  “Right. But obviously you have an opinion.”

  “An opinion I’m not prepared to share at this time.” I could feel Flynn hovering, edging closer. Just itching to interject and escort Liv and her guys off the property.

  A couple of other crew guys had appeared around the side of the house, hauling equipment bags. They held back, observing the negotiation.

  But Liv was not backing down.

  “This is an important part of the process, Elle. I understand that you’re on vacation, but Brody and I discussed it, and we both felt you’d be the best person to comment on Seth’s position with the band—”

  “Seth doesn’t have a position with the band,” I said. All the while, my head was fucking reeling. Brody and I? What the fuck was Brody doing, sending her here to accost me?

  “And if that’s the case,” she said, “all I need is for you to say so, on camera, and we’ll be on our way.”

  I doubted that. As soon as she got me in front of that camera, she’d be digging for more. I couldn’t really fault Liv; she was just trying to make a killer TV series. Doing her job.

  But right now, I didn’t care about that.

  I really didn’t need her showing up here, right when I was feeling so fucking vulnerable—having Seth here, having Seth leave… and having no idea what to do about all these feelings he’d stirred up in me. The very last thing I needed was a camera crew in my face.

  But I would play the game.

  I wasn’t going to have Flynn throw her out. I was going to make her turn around and leave. Voluntarily.

  “Listen to me, Liv. This has nothing to do with Dirty or finding our new guitari
st.”

  “Then let’s talk about that.”

  “We are talking. But not on camera.”

  Liv considered that. Then she said, “Seth already talked to me. On camera.”

  What?

  “When?”

  “We caught him at the airport, when we landed. Total fluke.”

  I stared at Liv for a long, long moment. She didn’t flinch.

  I believed her, maybe, about the fluke of running into Seth. Either way, though, interviewing him was no fluke.

  “Alright,” I said, because she’d caught me off-guard. I didn’t love it, but I definitely didn’t like Seth talking to her, and me without a chance to respond.

  I wasn’t planning to ask Liv what he’d said. I didn’t like what asking might imply—that I was worried about what he’d said about me.

  So I simply said, “I’ll give you the interview. When I’m ready.”

  Two hours later, I was ready enough. Joanie had called in a hair and makeup team from among the many contacts she kept on the island. I’d gotten dressed, had my hair and makeup done, and rejoined Liv and her crew on the patio. They’d set up in the shade, the ocean view in the background, and were ready for me.

  I sat down and we started rolling. I knew it wasn’t gonna be easy. I knew Liv was gonna dig. And dig she did… After some bullshit small talk about the audition process overall, she went straight for it.

  “Tell me about Seth.”

  But this was far from my first rodeo. I wasn’t gonna give up anything I didn’t want to give.

  “What do you want to know?” I asked her.

  “What do you think of him?” Liv sat across from me, next to the camera, feeding me questions. It was her job to get content out of me; content she could use. I knew whatever she said wouldn’t be included in the show, but anything I said might be.

  “I think he’s our ex-guitarist.”

  Liv sighed a little. “Come on, Elle. This is a documentary. I’m not grilling you for some junk entertainment gossip show. This is the real you, right?”

  “It’s the real me,” I said.

  “Then tell me what you really think of Seth Brothers.”

  “I think Seth Brothers is an extremely talented musician,” I said.

  “Okay. Now tell me about the man, not the musician.”

  “Are you gonna tell me what he said about me?” I asked, breaking form. Because for the last two hours it had been killing me. I wanted to ask her, without coming right out and actually asking her.

  “You really want to know?” she said. And there was something about the way she said it that rubbed me entirely the wrong way.

  Like there was something to know. Something I should know?

  Something I wouldn’t want to know?

  Yeah. This was a mistake.

  Since when had this documentary become an inquisition about my feelings toward Seth Brothers?

  “This interview is over.” I got up. I started to walk away, heading into the house, but turned back. The camera was still filming; the camera operator had swiveled it around to film my exit. “Turn the camera off.” I directed this straight at the camera op. He glanced at Liv, and Liv nodded.

  He stopped rolling.

  “You know I’m gonna hear what you asked him anyway,” I told her, “when I watch the dailies. That’s in my contract. I get all the dailies.”

  “Uh-huh. So does he.”

  “What?”

  “Seth’s negotiating a deal with the network.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since this morning. When I interviewed him at the airport.” Liv shrugged, like this was no big thing. To be expected, even. “The network wanted to talk to him before they’d let me interview him. Turns out they want his side of the story.”

  I just stared at her.

  What the fuck was going on?

  “You know,” Liv said, “there are two sides to every rock ’n’ roll story…”

  I was already walking away.

  “I mean, your story is the one everyone cares about, of course,” she backpedaled, following me into the house. But while I jetted straight for the stairs, Flynn stepped in to stop Liv in her tracks. “Come on, Elle! You know what I mean!” she called after me, but I wasn’t listening.

  My phone was already dialing.

  “Brody!” I said when he answered. “What the fuck. Seth’s in the documentary now?” I wasn’t even sure why it bothered me so much. My mind was spinning in every direction at once as I closed myself into the bedroom.

  “Apparently,” Brody said. “We’ve decided to roll with it.”

  “We?”

  “We’re gonna let the network do a contract with Seth,” he continued, “and see how it plays out.”

  “He gets the dailies?”

  “Who cares? The band gets approval on the final cut anyway.”

  I could not believe it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  And why didn’t Seth tell me? He could’ve called me from the airport, or messaged me to at least give me a heads up about Liv.

  Except… he didn’t have my number.

  How would he? I’d never given it to him.

  “I did,” Brody said. “Check your messages once in a while.”

  I ripped open the bedroom door, about to call out for Joanie—but she was standing right there, poised to knock, looking sheepish as fuck.

  “Talk later.” I hung up on Brody. “Brody called?”

  “Yeah,” Joanie said, her eyes wide. “He called this afternoon. Several times. Something about Seth and the documentary? He wants you to call him back. But you told me no calls… especially from Brody…” She trailed off. “Shit. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She was right, I did tell her that. Repeatedly. “Just get me a flight home.”

  “To L.A.?”

  “No,” I said. “Vancouver.”

  I had no idea if the auditions Liv had mentioned were about to get underway in L.A. or Vancouver, since, clearly, I hadn’t been checking my messages. I wasn’t even sure where all the members of my band were right now.

  All I knew for sure was that Seth was in Vancouver.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Elle

  When the plane landed, Flynn loaded us into a car and drove me to my place in Lions Bay, just north of the city. We passed Joanie’s place in downtown Vancouver on the way and dropped her off.

  As soon as Flynn dropped me at my house, alone, I opened my laptop and found the email from the post-production supervisor on the documentary series. She’d already sent out today’s dailies.

  I carried the laptop upstairs to my bedroom, kicking off my sandals. I curled up on my bed in the dark and clicked the link in the email. It took me to an FTP site, where I could download the video I wanted.

  I hadn’t even bothered to bring my other things upstairs; my bags sat in the foyer where Flynn put them. I didn’t get changed or eat anything or even turn on a light.

  Beyond the first day of filming on this series, I hadn’t even bothered to watch the dailies.

  But I watched Seth’s interview footage now.

  He was standing in the shade, his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head. A palm tree swayed in the background. Liv, off-camera, fed him questions, like she’d done with me, and she left no stone unturned.

  She asked Seth about his addiction, about his difficult path to recovery, about his overdose, about both times he’d been fired from Dirty. She asked about the reunion show earlier this year and his audition last week.

  Lucky for Liv, Seth was much more forthcoming in his interview than I’d been. And he answered every question the same way he’d answered me when I’d asked.

  She also asked him about every member of Dirty.

  About Jesse, he said, “Jesse is the best guitarist I’ve ever played with. Anyone can see why the fans love him. He’s the total package.”

  About Dylan, he said, “Dylan’s a madman on the drums and as solid as they come.”

/>   And about Zane, he said, “Tell me one thing you dislike about Zane Traynor and I’ll tell you five things to love about him.”

  To which Liv said, “Some would say he’s a womanizer.”

  And Seth replied, “Yeah. Well, he’s also fucking brilliant. He’s sharp as a fucking razor, passionate, totally committed, and no one will make you laugh harder when you’re having a shitty day. And I’ll tell you something else people don’t give him credit for. He’s got vision, and he goes after that vision like a tornado.”

  “That’s seven things,” Liv said.

  “Seven true things. Zane’s got a reputation, right? For being a cocky asshole. Maybe that reputation is deserved. But not many people really know Zane. There’s a lot more there than meets the eye. If it weren’t for Zane, Dirty wouldn’t be the band they are today. They might never have gotten off the ground. They’d probably have ended up just another garage band that became just another bar band playing endless cover songs to fifty people a night.”

  Well.

  Jesse was not gonna love that. Not sure I did either.

  Yet I respected Seth for saying it. Whether it was strictly true or not, it was his opinion, clearly, and he was standing by it.

  “What about Elle?” Liv asked.

  “Elle is the best bassist I’ve ever played with, by miles,” was his answer.

  “How so?”

  “Well, a lot of bass players end up picking up the bass by default. They start out as guitarists, but migrate to bass because the band needs a bassist. And they never really bring anything sensational to their instrument. They’re just laying down that bass line, and if you’re not even conscious of hearing them in the song, they’ve pretty much done their job. But then there’s that rarer breed of musician who was just born to play the bass. Elle is one of those. She just feels it, you know? She brings the funk to Dirty in a big way. If not for her, they’d just be another group of white guys rocking out. And who needs that, right?”

  Liv actually laughed in the background. “Can I play that back for them?”

  Seth smiled a little and shrugged. “Do what you’ve gotta do.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Now tell us something we don’t know about Elle.”

  Seth went silent. He looked off, maybe trying to think of something. Maybe choosing his words. I noticed, though, he didn’t hesitate this long to sum up the other band members.