Jag (Pandemic Sorrow #1)

by Stevie J. Cole

  All of those drugs spread out in my floor sure did look like more of a “problem” than when they were safely hidden away in that drawer. I was shaking thinking about what I’d just done. The fact that I’d just said I would fix myself for someone else, the fact that I’d have to be sober to have her rumbled through me like a huge, dormant volcano stirring back to life. The thought jarred my entire body with intense pulses of fear and anxiety, really making me want to crumple onto the floor and scream.

  Roxy took several steps toward me. Her palm grazed over my jaw and she studied me, peering into me like she could see my damn soul. “I’m not your dream. There’s not anything about me –”

  “No. There’s a lot to you. You’re real. And when I’m with you, I don’t feel so numb. I don’t need to be as numb.”

  She pressed her mouth over mine, holding her lips against me in a hard embrace before moving away just enough to look me in the eyes. “I can’t fix you.”

  My chest tightened. I’d just poured out my soul to this girl, and even that wasn’t enough?

  Roxy grabbed my hand and squeezed. “But you can hurt me.” She paused and kissed me again. “Please, please don’t make me regret giving you the chance to hurt me.”

  Taking the back of her head in my hands, I pulled her to me. I shook my head. “I won’t. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.”

  Chapter 28

  The night before we left to go on tour, I didn’t sleep. I was restless with worry. I didn’t want to be a fucking liar anymore, but I knew damn well I couldn’t stay clean – and that’s what she wanted. She wanted someone that was sober, basically the one thing I thought I could never be.

  The next morning Roxy rode with me to the studios. On the way there I broke out in a cold sweat, my entire body shaking on the inside because I’d forgone my habitual morning line. After we pulled up in front of the building, I climbed out of my car, got my bags, and walked over to her. We stood there uncertain of what to say, and I motioned toward the entrance. “You can come in if you want.”

  “No, I need to get home. I’ve neglected laundry and bills because of you,” she laughed, and scraped the toe of her shoe across the cement. “Be careful, okay?”

  Adjusting one of my bags over my shoulder, I said, “Of course.”

  “Don’t go jumping off of stuff.” Her eyes narrowed on me. “And don’t you dare go dedicating songs to anyone else, either,” she grinned.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled, and planted my lips on hers. I pulled away from her and directed my eyes at my car. “How about you don’t wreck my car?”

  “I’ll try not to.” She walked over to the driver’s side and opened the door, staring at me over the dark blue roof.

  “I’ll call you. Okay?”

  She nodded, and doubt washed over her face as I walked to the door.

  “I can’t fuck you over,” I shouted. “I’d never get my car back. And I love my compensating-for-a-small-dick car.”

  Roxy laughed and shook her head. She quickly climbed in, started my car, and pulled off.

  I made my way through the studio to the back room.

  Rush glanced up. “Well, shit! Where the hell have you fucking been? You seriously think I believe you’ve been sick this entire time? You don’t look sick. What have you been doing, fucker?”

  “Just been at my house.”

  Rush rose from the chair and tilted his head to the side. “No fucking way! No. Fucking. Way? That girl? The bet? You got the bet! You twisted little fuck! Dude, you can’t get all wrapped up in some chick before we go on tour. You know better than that.”

  “Man, shut the hell up,” I groaned, leaning against the wall.

  Stone laughed and shook his head at me. “Well, it’ll be over before we get back. Jag’s not a one-woman man. Hell, he’s not a ten-woman man.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fuck you!”

  “What?” Stone picked up his bags and made his way toward the door. “It’s not bad. Jag, you know you can’t be in a relationship. You’re a fucking man whore! Be proud. Embrace your whoreness.”

  Stone and Rush took their bags out to the tour bus, and I heard Pax rummaging through his bag in the corner of the room. Staring at him, rage built in my chest then spread out in hot tingles over my limbs. Pax glanced up and a nervous, smart-ass smile twitched over his lips.

  “You know, you really are a piece of shit. I’m gonna beat the piss out of you at some point. Just know that,” I said.

  Sitting back on his heels, he nodded his head. “Yeah. Probably should. Real jerk-ass move on my part. I’m sorry, man, I just…” He zipped his bag and let out a long breath. “You know you don’t care about her. I know you don’t care about her. It was just pussy. How many times do you think we’ve fucked the same girls?”

  “Pax, I don’t care how many times you’ve shoved your dick up in a girl just to get it wet with my jizz. River wasn’t some damn groupie. Whether I gave a shit about her or not doesn’t matter.”

  I stretched my neck, popping my spine, then wiped my hand down my face. I wasn’t even sure why I was so mad at him. I should have been throwing myself on my knees thanking him for getting her the hell away from me, for giving me that final kick in the nuts to never fucking touch her again, but it was just the fact that he really wasn’t a friend that got to me.

  Jerking his bag up, he glared at me. “You know, she just about raped me. At first I told her no, pushed her greedy little whore hands away from my dick, and then I kept thinking about all the shit you give me for just being the drummer. You know, if I fuck up at a show, it would throw everybody off. When you fuck up, everyone else compensates to hide it. Your entitlement, the fact that you think everyone else in this band is underneath you, just kind of hit me hard in that moment. And I just gave in.” Pax walked toward the door, passing by me before he stopped. “You always said she was good in bed – and for once I wanted to show someone how much better I am at something than you are.”

  My fingers pulled into my fist and I yanked my hand back to knock his ass out, but then just let it fall. It wasn’t worth it. “She’s not worth it. You’re not worth it,” I muttered, and crossed the room to get my bags.

  Chapter 29

  The first night I told Jules I didn’t want any girls signing waivers for an after-show treat. I didn’t want temptation, I didn’t want to hurt Roxy. Girls, I could manage that, but drugs – how can you possibly subdue something that controls you?

  Ten days in, we arrived in Tampa. I had called Roxy every day, and I missed her. I seriously missed her. I’d told her I would stop the drugs, told being the key word. I didn’t promise her that I would, I just told her I would – but I’d meant after the shows. Surely she’d figured that? I may have had to take a handful of Lunesta to make me sleep just so I wouldn’t do any real drugs. At least that way I stayed sober until it was time to perform. I mean, knocking myself out with sleeping pills, that’s not really getting high, it’s just getting some rest. It was just a way to keep that screaming want for something muted. I was trying, damn it. I was fucking trying.

  Before the show we were all in the dressing room, fucking around as usual. Stone and Pax pounded back Stellas, and Rush and I snorted lines.

  “I’m fucking ready!” Rush screamed, jumping up from the couch. “Fuckin’ ready. Tampa’s full of fit bitches that are gonna get a taste of all this.” He waved his hand over his crotch and thrust it out a few times. “Lucky bitches.”

  “Too bad James didn’t sign us up for a VIP meet and greet here.” Stone crushed the beer can in his hand and chucked it across the room at Rush. “Knew better than to tempt us with that much tanned pussy, huh?” His eyes fell in my direction. “Sure there’ll be plenty afterwards though.”

  Leaning over, I sniffed back the last line and walked toward the stage door. “Yeah,” I mumbled.

  About ten minutes later, just when my heart rate began to accelerate and that overwhelming sensation of immortality crashed over my body, the door op
ened. I was waiting on Jules to screech out some orders for us to keep our shit together, but instead of Jules I heard a high-pitched annoying bitch squeal. That sound sent a flash of disgust rippling through me, and I had to force back the urge to whip around and scream at her. Slowly, I turned to face the doorway, where River was prancing over to Pax in her six-inch stilettos.

  She had on a tight lime green dress that threatened to free her tits as they bounced with each heavy step, and her lips were lacquered in that slutty-ass red lipstick she always wore.

  “This is so exciting! I can’t wait to see you play.” She grabbed Pax and almost swallowed his entire damn face with her swollen, freshly injected lips. “Thanks so much for letting me come, babe.” River’s eyes darted over at me, and her lips did the best they could in their current state to twist into a bitchy smile.

  Stone and Rush stood frozen in the middle of the room, watching, slack-jawed, as River groped Pax’s twiggy frame.

  “Fucking unbelievable,” I said, grabbing my guitar. “Pathetic even.”

  “What the fuck?” Stone shouted. “Who the hell said she could come?”

  Shrugging, Pax tapped one of his drumsticks over her ass cheek. “Didn’t know I had to ask.”

  “Nah, to hell with this shit, Pax.” Rush tossed his hand in the air. “This is not cool, dude. Not at all.”

  Jules came busting through the door, interrupting the pending argument.

  “All right, you guys, you got five –” Jules stopped midstride when her eyes caught the sight of River draped around Pax’s neck. “Uh. Hey, River.” Jules stared, narrowing her gaze before shooting a look of utter confusion in my direction.

  I swallowed back some beer and wiped my mouth. “Oh, that whore? Yeah, Jules. Since I won’t let Pax suck my dick, I guess he figured the next best thing to fucking me would be to fuck something I’ve torn up with my dick. She’s like the damn Goodwill of pussy. A true hand-me-down slut.”

  Stone and Rush erupted into laughter and Jules just stood staring, still trying to process what the hell was going on.

  “Okay. Well. You guys are on in five minutes. Jag, don’t fucking pull any stunts. We’re trying to give you guys a night to rest up in a hotel, so we’ve got to leave at five in the morning since we’re losing time on the road. Meaning, we don’t have time to take you to the ER because you decide to leap to your death, okay? Just keep your shit together, guys.” She glanced back over at River. “What the fuck are you gonna do, sweet pea?”

  I was shocked. Jules had this hostile, protective tone coating her voice like she was actually pissed at River and Pax.

  “Oh, I’m just gonna hang out back here. Maybe go on the side of the stage or something.”

  “Um-hmm.” Jules tapped her pen over her clipboard. “Just don’t let anyone see you, okay? Keep your ass outta sight.”

  I heard the announcer come over the loudspeakers. “You guys ready for Pandemic Sorrow?” The auditorium exploded in screams. “Is that a yes? Because I need a ‘fuck yeah’ for this band.”

  A loud “fuck yeah” broke through, and the band made their way out onto the stage, feeling their way through the thick smoke that poured over the platform.

  I stood by the entrance, waiting for my cue to walk out as I hung my guitar around my neck.

  “You sorry yet?” River snarled.

  Refusing to turn around, I said, “Sorry? For what?”

  “For letting me go?”

  “Nope. Couldn’t be any fucking happier. You’re a damn psycho bitch from hell.”

  She laughed. “Whatever. Seems to me you may not be the god of sex anymore. Just saying, drummers evidently aren’t only good at pounding beats. He’s much better at pounding me than those drums.”

  Stone’s chord struck through, and I jammed my ear plug in and ran out onto the stage. The amphitheater was filled with thousands of people, and the moment I walked out on stage, the vibrations from the crowd intensified. All the lights focused on me; the thick white smoke swirled up around me, and I let the first words pour from my lips as a low growl. I made several quick strums over the strings and then turned my voice into a tortured howl. The lights spread across the stage, and then the chorus broke out. I let my hair fall down around my eyes as I grabbed the mic and bowed my head over it.

  Looking up from my lowered face at the crowd, I stomped my right leg in beat with the percussions from that son of a bitch behind me. Hands were stretched out toward me, shaking and trying to grab my leg. I let Stone take over the guitars, and I ripped the microphone from the stand and stomped across the stage, kneeling down when I reached the edge. My eyes scanned across the faces of the girls crowded around, all pushing each other to get closer to me. I stretched out my arm and grabbed as many of their hands as I could, fighting to not get yanked down from the stage by them. Several hands grabbed my shirt and tugged. I had to pry a few loose so I could stand back up. I ran to center stage to take my guitar back from one of the roadies and made eye contact with Pax, then mouthed “fuck you” as I pointed at him.

  The combination of the coke coursing through me and the adrenaline of performing had brought my need to beat his ass raging to the surface. I screamed out the lyrics, my throat burning from the force of it, and I strummed my guitar hard. The song finished and the lights went out. I scrambled over to the side of the stage, grabbed the coke I’d had Jules set out for me, and took a hit real quick. I wiped under my nose, then stepped back out just as Pax beat out the first few beats of the next song on the set list. The lights faded to red, which I think did nothing but fuel my drug-intensified anger.

  Halfway through the song, Pax broke out into an unauthorized solo. My head snapped around and I stared at him. When the hell did he become such a renegade? Fucking my ex-girlfriend, making smart-ass comments to me, and now, just thinking he could take over the show?

  Looking over to see if any of the other guys were bothered by it, I noticed Rush had taken the freedom to step over to the side of the stage. I watched as he laid down and pulled random chicks up to his face to make out with them. I glanced over at Stone and he was just rolling with it, nodding his head to the beat. And then, to the side of the stage I could see River dancing.

  My eyes darted back over to Pax and he stood up, continuing to slam his sticks over the drum set. Shocked, I watched his balls grow ten times their size as he mouthed an exaggerated, “fuck you, pussy,” in my direction and pointed at me with one of his ratty old sticks.

  Without thought, I removed the guitar from my body, setting it down on the stage before grabbing the near-empty glass bottle of bourbon from one of the speakers. I hurled it at Pax. He ducked and it slammed against the backdrop, the black banner waving as the bottle smashed on the stage.

  I rolled my shoulders and charged at him. “You want to fuck with me? Huh, bitch?” I screamed.

  The crowd went nuts.

  Pax jumped out from behind the drums, bowing his chest out at me and slamming his palms against my ribs. “I’ll fuck with you all day, asshole!”

  I swung at him, jabbing him right in the side of the face. His cheek rippled from the force, and saliva spewed from his mouth. He stumbled and fell into the drum set, knocking it off his little platform before he fell to the ground. The cymbals tinkered as his hand fell back on it. One punch and I’d knocked his pussy-ass out cold.

  “Nah. Fuck you, piece of shit!” I spit on him and then walked back out to the stage.

  Jules scampered out from behind the curtains and ran to Pax, screaming profanities in my direction. I scanned over the crowd, and people’s faces had an array of emotions. Some looked shocked, some looked amused, and others were just too fucked up to give a damn what the hell was going on.

  As I walked to the stage to pick up the microphone, I felt something slam into my back. I looked down to see a Chanel purse by my feet with pill bottles rolling out from it. I stumbled and turned around to see River taking off her shoes. She flung one at me. It missed and bounced across the stage a
nd over the edge.

  “You jackass!” she screeched. Her face was cherry-red and her nostrils were flaring like a damn bull. She ran up to me and slapped her fists against my chest, then grabbed my hair and jerked my head down. I tried pushing her away from me. She had such a tight grip on my hair that I could feel my scalp pulling up with each tug.

  “Let the fuck go of me!” I shouted. I was helpless. Since she was a woman, I couldn’t very well defend myself. Reaching up, I encircled her delicate wrist with my hand and crushed her bones as hard as I could. I glared at her and growled through my clenched jaw, “Let go, River.”

  One of the security guards came over and wrapped his behemoth arms around her, then picked her up and carried her off. River was kicking and screaming, scratching at his arms to make him let her go.

  I bent over and picked up the mic. Laughing into it, I shrugged. “Bitch issues.” I wiped the sweat from my brow and shook my hair out of my face. “That’s why you don’t date girls who don’t eat. They get angry and crazy and then fuck the drummer of their ex-boyfriend’s band.”

  A loud boo rang out through the air.

  I nodded and quieted the audience with my hand. “Well, while we wait on the puss to get his wits back, we’ll just do an acoustic version of ‘Winter Solstice.’ Sound good to you, fucking Tampa?”

  I scanned over the audience while I waited for one of the roadies to scamper up with an acoustic.

  Stone shook his head, trying to cover his laugh up with his hand.

  Rush walked past me, squeezed my shoulder and said, “Fuck that shithead. He deserved that.”

  I watched Stone and Rush walk to the side of the stage, and then I was handed my guitar. My fingers picked over the strings and I closed my eyes, releasing a heavy breath into the mic before whispering out the lyrics. By the time I’d finished the song, Pax had come back on stage, and we finished the show. As soon as it was over, I made my way out to the back and climbed into the limo to go back to the hotel.