Stone: A Standalone Rock Star Romantic Comedy (Pandemic Sorrow)

by Stevie J. Cole

  I hesitate for a second and she snickers. “That’s my girl, going for the hard, silent tortured one.”

  “No, I’m not going for anyone.” I drag my hand down my face. I just want to change the subject. “So, what are we doing this weekend?” I ask.

  “Dunno, party?”

  “Do you do anything else?”

  “Aside from working and having sex, not really.” She grins. “You should invite Pandemic Sorrow out.”

  “Lauren, no.”

  “I just want to bang one of them.”

  “No.”

  “C’mon, a little dirty one nighter never hurt anyone.”

  I cock a brow. “No, I’m sure all the cases of the clap and herpes came from a toilet seat.”

  She snarls her lip. “Just had to ruin my good time, didn’t you?” The waiter sets our drinks on the table and she immediately tips hers back. She glances behind me and rolls her eyes. “Speaking of a walking STD,” she nods behind me, and I turn in my seat, groaning the second my gaze lands on Voss Henson in his leather pants.

  “Oh, fuck my life,” I groan.

  “He’s wearing a scarf. In LA. In the summer,” Lauren shakes her head. “Why did you ever date him?”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time, I mean…” My eyes trail over the bulge in his tight pants. “It was a year ago…”

  “He’s an asshole.”

  He was an asshole, but he had me fooled. He was all swoony and dark and tormented and held open doors. A chivalrous dick at his finest.

  “I mean, the first inclination that it was time to get the fuck out should have been when he called you his lobster.”

  Closing my eyes, I sigh. “I just thought he was a little on the dorky side.”

  “A crustacean, Phoenix, a bottom-feeding crustacean. They are the roach of the sea. He basically called you his roach.” She places her hands beside her head and sticks two fingers out wiggling them around like antennae. “And then, he cheated on you with all those girls. All those girls, I mean, Jesus, the groupies and the models and his stepmom.”

  “Okay. Enough!” I glare at her.

  “And…” she tips her mimosa back again. “We’ve been spotted.”

  I stare straight ahead at her, because I don’t want to make eye contact with him. A nervous sweat pricks its way over my neck. I watch as she smirks and flips him a bird, waving it around like a pageant queen.

  I swat at her hand, my eyes bugging out of my head. “Lauren, stop. You’re just gonna make him come over here.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Fine.” She lifts her drink again and gulps before tapping the stem of the champagne flute to get the last of the drink into her mouth. “Fine.”

  Voss struts over to a table right in front of me, locking eyes when he takes a seat. He doesn’t acknowledge me accept for the smirk he shoots in my direction when some waif sits down next to him. He leans over and kisses her. I feel sorry for her. I really do because that boy will never be anything but heartbreak, but in an industry like this, what else is there really? My mom went through more men than I care to count, and the relationship her and Henry have is nothing but a load of shit. They’re both screwing people left and right.

  “Don’t do that,” Lauren says.

  “What?”

  “Don’t reminisce. It’s the worst thing to do and before you know it, you’ll have had two bottles of Rose’ and be spread eagle on the back of some stranger’s truck with all four inches of his disease-riddled-dick crammed up inside you.”

  “Wow, you’re a delight today.”

  “I’m a delight every day.”

  The waiter comes back with Lauren’s lettuce and she orders another drink. “Now, about this party…” she grabs her phone and scrolls. “Dear old Papa Jimmy’s having one tomorrow, right?”

  “I know.” I grab my water and gulp half of it down. “But I’d rather stay at home.”

  “Of course you would, if it weren’t for me you’d be a recluse.” And she’s right. I’m not a people person. “So,” she says, “back to the Pandemic Sorrow boys… Rush is a perv, Rex—”

  “Pax.”

  “Yes, Pax is gross. Jag’s a dick. That leaves,” she cuts her gaze over at me. “What about Stone?” She grins.

  “He’s fine.”

  “And there it is, ladies and gentlemen.”

  Yep, there it is. Stone Steele is not a perv, not gross, not a dick. Just a sexy rocker that wears eyeliner better than Elizabeth Taylor. A sexy rock star that I am in no way going to have anything to do with outside of that song. Simply because I know better. Because, if I did not know better, I would absolutely be trying to cozy up to him.

  But I know better. I so, so, so, so know better.

  We step out onto the sidewalk and Lauren nudges me. “You’re totally going to fuck him.”

  All I can do is groan and pray that for once Lauren is wrong.

  7

  Stone

  The room is crowded as shit. People are everywhere. Other rockers. Models– I grab Jag’s sleeve. “Hey, man, is that a hooker?” I point to some woman taking cash from Jimmy’s bassist.

  “Probably. Ralph there likes the hookers.” He laughs before thumbing under his nose. Some girl struts past and Jag grabs her by the waist before walking off with her.

  I stand here, observing for a moment. Everyone is high off their face from the trays of coke and X being passed around. A hand slaps me on the back, and I turn around to find Rush handing me a drink. “Check out the tits on that one.” He points across the room at a blonde strutting around in a thong and pair of glitter heels. Nothing else.

  “Yeah,” I sigh, my gaze wandering to her nipples, “those are tits, alright.”

  “Dude, what’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m fucking bored,” I say. Rush stares at me like I’ve got three heads sticking off my shoulders. I hate these damn parties. The fake crap. Smiling and talking to people I could give two shits about.

  “Bored?” He grabs my head and turns it around, pointing to the couch where three girls are groping all over each other, kissing, shirts coming off, hands going down pants. “How the hell are you bored of shit like this?”

  I yank my head away from him and give him a good shove. “You’ve seen thirty orgies; you’ve seen them all.”

  He snorts before crouching in front of me and staring at my crotch. “I’m sorry, dude. Your owner just abandoned you and his manhood.” He stands back up, grinning.

  “Were you just talking to my dick?”

  “Yeah,” he snorts, “you let him down.”

  A loud squeal pierces my ears and I turn around just in time to see Jimmy Rage fall onto the couch between the girls. Without hesitation, hands are down his pants.

  “You know,” Rush laughs, “I hope when I’m an old fart shitting my tighty-whities I’m still pulling the pussy this geezer does.”

  “He’s only 40 Rush, and anyway, I’m sure you will be.” I pat his back. “Not like it’s that hard.”

  “Nah, I know, but I just hope it still works.” He grabs his crotch. “I mean, what if my dick’s more of a Ford instead of a Honda?”

  “What the–”

  “You know, what if I only have like one-hundred fifty thousand miles to go before the transmission blows?”

  The fact that he knows how to wipe his own ass astonishes me sometimes. “That’s what Viagra’s for,” I say.

  “Yeah, but, boner pills just seem like a lie.”

  “A lie? Rush, you use them all the time.”

  “Yeah, that’s just because I like to. I mean, when I have to use them just to make him go to half-mast… Dude, it’s a fake woody, you know? I don’t want to have to time that shit.”

  Is this really all we have to worry about? How many fucks we get before our dicks blow a gasket? “Jesus,” I mumble, “you’re an idiot. Just use Cialis.”

  “Oh, shit…” Rush says before bringing his closed fist to his mouth and biting over his knuckles. “A redhead.” H
e lifts one brow, drops his hand to his side, and smirks. “Ah, fuck… she’s with that Phoenix chick.”

  I turn around, following Rush’s gaze, and sure enough, there’s Phoenix leaned against the open patio door. She looks unamused. Put out even. Her friend, on the other hand, has her eyes locked on Rush. “Take one for the team, dude.” He pats my shoulder.

  “Fuck off. Just go over there and ask the redhead if you can borrow her pussy for a second.”

  He laughs and struts across the room. Phoenix gives me a passing glance before she goes back to the phone in her hand. She’s intriguing, that’s for sure. I mean, when I was new to all this glitz and glamour of Hollywood bullshit I looked like an adolescent virgin in a porn shop for the first time. Raging erection and all. I watch her, the way she keeps sighing, the annoyed looks she keeps shooting at Rush as he gropes her friend.

  A hand slides along my back. “Hey…” a soft voice whispers. “You look lonely.”

  I turn around and Madison Maddox, Miss November, smiles, grabs my hand, and opens my palm, dropping a little blue pill in my hand. She kisses my cheek and winks.

  When I turn back around, Harvey Danger– Jimmy’s shitfuck of a son– has Phoenix cornered. He brushes her hair away from her shoulder before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Smiling, she rolls her eyes.

  And…another one bites the dust.

  8

  Phoenix

  “Look at you, sis,” Harvey says before placing a kiss to my cheek. A smile works over my lips and I shove him away.

  “I’m not into incest, Harvey, how many times do I have to tell you that.”

  “Come on, you were only my stepsister for a year.”

  “And that was enough.”

  He laughs. “So, Dad said you were singing with the shitfucks over there,” he thumbs toward Rush whose face is buried in Lauren’s tits.

  I groan. “God, yes. Fucking Henry…” I shake my head. “I hate it.”

  “Ah, come on now, you don’t hate it.”

  “I do. I don’t want shit handed to me, you know?”

  He shrugs and tips his beer back. “Could’ve asked me. I’d have done a collab with you.” He winks. “Sure old fuckface Henry would have loved that.”

  I laugh. “Yeah…”

  “Dad still wants to kill him.”

  I roll my eyes. “Oh come on now. Jimmy was fucking around on my mom, too.”

  “Yeah, but not with her best friend.”

  “True…” Henry was the drummer for Harvey’s band – until Jimmy found him fucking my mom in the hot tub. I glance over Harvey’s shoulder and catch Stone with some blonde kissing up his neck and a twinge of jealousy darts through me. There’s just something about him– this primal attraction. Maybe it’s just the way he looks at you like he’d rip you to shreds, pull your hair, smack your ass. He’s got that unattainable air swirling around him. A rebel. Reckless. A true bad boy. And I mean, after all, isn’t that what most girls want? A bad boy that’s going to wreck their heart and be a Neanderthal in bed?

  “What are you staring at?” Harvey asks before turning around, but Stone’s already gone. Thank god.

  “Just…this…” I wave my hand around the living room and laugh. “This life.”

  “It’s a fucking mess, huh?”

  “Something like that.” I sigh.

  He pats me on the back. “Live it up, sis. Life’s a one-time gig and all that shit.”

  _________

  I wake with a massive hangover and the taste of tequila still in my mouth. “Oh fuck,” I huff, “that’s the taste of regret.” My leg is asleep, and when I go to move it, it won’t budge. I reach down and grab it, trying to lift it up, but something’s on my foot. I sit up to find Harvey sprawled out like a starfish across the foot of the bed. There’s a can of beer leaking all over the comforter right beside him. “Well, at least there’s no vomit,” I mumble before rolling off the bed and to the floor.

  Harvey holds up his hand, waving it in the air. “Don’t call me, I don’t do the same chick twice,” he groans.

  “Gross.” I shake my head.

  He grunts and sits up in bed, his long, blond hair sticking up in every direction. “Go back to sleep, Harvey. It’s just me.”

  He stares at me with his bloodshot eyes. “Why are you in here? Shit, did we fuck?”

  “Um, no… I came up here when Lauren disappeared with Rush. Why you ended up lain out across the foot of this bed is beyond me.”

  He flops back down and chucks the beer can across the room. I finally manage to work some of the feeling back into my foot and stand. “I’ll call you later.”

  He gives me a thumbs up, and I make my way to the door.

  I can already see the carnage when I reach the top of the winding stairwell that leads to the first floor of Jimmy’s house. There’s a naked chick asleep and spread eagle on the stairs who I skirt around. At the foot of the steps is a guy with his pants around his ankles, a used condom hanging from his limp dick. “This is so fucked up,” I whisper to myself. This…this is what I grew up around. Shit like this. Parties and drugs and rockers…

  One of the doors in the hallway flies open when I step into the living room, and I freeze. A loud fart echoes down the hallway before Rush struts out, pants undone, no shirt. He maneuvers around the people passed out on the floor and goes straight to the fridge, opens it, and pulls out a carton of milk. He sniffs it before placing the mouth to his lips and gulping it back. Then, he burps.

  “You are so gross,” I say.

  He quickly turns around, a smile spreading over his lips before he sets the milk on the counter. “Lovely to see you this morning, Phoenix. Did you sleep well?”

  “Uh-huh. Where’s Lauren?”

  “Trying to figure out how to walk like a bowlegged duck. Most women aren’t accustomed to my massive anaconda dick.” He laughs. “And you know what?”

  “I’m sure I don’t want to know.”

  “Nah, come on, sweet cheeks.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “In between my fuck sessions with your buddy in there,” he thumbs down the hall, “I learned a few very interesting things about you.”

  Great. Just great…I sigh. “Oh, I’m sure you did, and I’m sure when her vag starts to burn like a Nevada wildfire and I take her to the clinic, I’ll find out some very interesting things about you.”

  He snorts. “Henry Edwards, huh? That makes a lot of sense. Born with a silver mic in your mouth, huh, sweet cheeks?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Hey,” he shrugs. “Don’t blame you for using it to your advantage. I mean, it’s hard to get a deal with a label these days, so not having to ever struggle or worry… Must be nice.” He walks toward the door. “Tell your friend thanks for the fuck. And I’ll see you later, Ms. Edwards.” Laughing, he bows before he opens the front door and leaves. Great! Exactly what I need, for those shitheads to think I’m some privileged, spoiled brat. I’m well aware I wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for Henry, and it sucks. It sucks to know you don’t deserve something.

  I let the thought that I don’t deserve this deal, this collaboration circle around in my head like a herd of sickly vultures. And the longer I dwell on it, the more pissed I become.

  I grab the remote and turn on the television, raising the volume in the hopes the unconscious shitheads lying all around me will wake up and get out of the house. A few of them groan. A few of them get up and leave.

  “Out with the lot of you!” Jimmy’s voice echoes down from the stairwell. “Get your mangey arse up and outta my house. Come on. Out.”

  People stumble around, filing out.

  “Bloody fucking hell,” he groans. “Have people no respect?” I glance over the back of the couch and see him peeling the used condom off the sole of his foot. He holds it out with a snarl on his face as he heads to the kitchen and tosses it in a trashcan. He’s at the sink washing his hand before spots me on the couch. “Well, hello there
, love. Didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

  He walks over with a smile and wraps me in a hug before flopping down next to me. Yawning, he swipes a hand over his face. “I’m getting too old to hold this act up, Phoenix. And you know, the Viagra gives me the shits.”

  “God, Jimmy, don’t,” I wave my hand around, “please, just…don’t.”

  “Alright, alright. Who’d your friend shag last night?”

  “Rush…”

  “Oh, that’ll leave a mark,” he laughs. “Glad you’re smarter than that.” He pats my cheek. “Smarter than your mum.” He arches a thick brow.

  I roll my eyes. “That’s not saying much.” I laugh, and he pushes up from the couch. “I’m going to make burritos, want one?”

  “Burritos?” I say. “At nine in the morning?”

  “Why not?” He saunters into the kitchen, whistling as he pulls out pots and pans. I direct my attention back to the TV and just catch movement from the corner of my eye. I turn around and Lauren’s hobbling down the hall, wincing with each step.

  I shake my head when she makes eye contact with me.

  “So much pain,” she whispers when she stops behind the couch. “So much pain.”

  “Wow, you look like…” And there are actually no words for what she looks like. Rings of mascara, puffy eyes, chapped lips, knotted hair. “Unfortunate. You look unfortunate right now, Lauren.”

  “Ugh,” she sighs. “My vagina feels unfortunate.”

  “Two hundred bucks you have the clap,” Jimmy calls from the kitchen.

  “Way to be a cheerleader, Jimmy,” Lauren mumbles. “Way to be a cheerleader.”

  Laughing, he shrugs. “Gotta earn your stripes somehow.”

  “Dear god,” I groan. “Do you need a wheelchair to get to the car?”

  She glares at me and I head to the door, waiting as she shuffles behind me. I shout goodbye to Jimmy and open the front door, heading down the steps. Lauren swears with each movement. The thing that sucks about this is, I have to see Rush in a few hours to practice, and now…he’s fucked my best friend so hard she literally cannot walk straight. When we reach my car, she leans against the hood and takes a deep breath. “I think my vagina is dead. It’s going to need a funeral.”