A FILTHY Enemy: a filthy line novel

by Kidman, Jaxson

  “No, that made no sense at all,” she said.

  “You know, it’s not cheating if you fuck a rock star,” I said. “That’s a rule.”

  “Whose rule?”

  “My rule,” I said.

  The woman pulled her camera away and walked back to Toby.

  “That was smooth,” Nash said to me.

  I turned and took my bass off. “Whatever. Tonight, when her fiancé is stuffing his little peanut between her legs, she’ll think of me.”

  “You’re a sick guy, Reed,” Sab said.

  “When is this shit over?” Dex asked. “A rooftop is boring without some action.”

  “Fuck that,” Jay said. “You just want to bail to go hang with Candice.”

  “So?” Dex asked. “I’m helping her get her new place set up. You’re all going to be there for the grand opening too. We’re going to blow every other place out of the water.”

  “Strippers,” Sab said. “Bring strippers.”

  “To a cafe?” Nash asked.

  “Frappuccino and tits,” Jay said. “Yeah, I’d hang there…”

  “Of course you would,” Nash said.

  “Hey, bro,” Sab said to Jay. “Imagine if they got the women to squirt milk into the Frappuccino…”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Nash asked.

  “There’s women who can produce milk all the time,” Sab said. “It’s a true thing.”

  “Wow,” Nash said.

  “Don’t be jealous, bro,” Jay said. “Does Liv squirt milk?”

  “If you ever ask if Liv squirts anything ever again, I’ll throw you off this roof,” Nash said.

  He stood up and walked away.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess he’s not a fan of milk.”

  “Maybe he’s lactose intolerant,” Dex said.

  “Not me,” Jay said. He squeezed the air with his hands and laughed.

  “Are we going to ever talk about those new songs or what?” Dex asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s a big project if we go that way. You’re talking bringing in other players and shit.”

  “Which isn’t a bad thing,” Sab said. “We can always use someone to jam on piano. Right?”

  We all went silent.

  The piano-slash-keyboard position had been a shitty thing for FILTHY LINE.

  We were still dealing with the legal bullshit from Mitchy.

  He was supposed to be our goddamn brother and he turned out to be…

  Whatever.

  Then there was Linx.

  What a kick-ass musician he was.

  We would have given him anything he wanted for him to hang around.

  But it just didn’t work out that way.

  I looked over at Nash.

  I wasn’t sure if it was him getting older in life or settling down with Liv.

  All of a sudden, he had a vision for the band to have bigger songs.

  We were still rock stars and always would be.

  But he wants to write a song or two for the ages…

  A song or two that would be played at weddings, during sad movies, that kind of shit. He wanted to let everything bleed out and see what would happen.

  That meant someone on piano. String players. Backup singers.

  I wasn’t a fan of going from a five-piece rock band to eight or ten people for one song.

  At the same time… I understood it.

  We were the biggest rock band in the world. Fighting side by side with those asshole pricks called RAUNCHY RECKS.

  That meant doing a little bit of everything. Without sacrificing who we were.

  “Fuck, I need a drink,” Sab said.

  “I need to fuck someone,” Jay said.

  “What about Reed?” Dex asked.

  “What about me?” I asked.

  “What do you need?” Jay asked.

  “All of the above… times three.”

  * * *

  My rock star palace wasn’t up in the hills. It didn’t overlook the city. It wasn’t that kind of place for me. Not that I would shit on the guys who lived up there. That was the dream. When we were walking the streets at four in the morning, talking about all the shows we were going to play, we’d look for those houses. We’d look for one of them with the lights still on, knowing someone famous was up there having a party. Some actor or actress. Some musician. Some recording executive. And they were just living it up.

  When the time came for me to use some of my filthy money, I bought a house just outside the city. With a ton of land. A place where we could get ourselves into a different kind of trouble. That meant building the biggest garage I had ever seen in my life and stocking it full of toys. Dirt bikes. Quads. Everything possible with an engine, at least one wheel, and the risk of death.

  The outside of the house was pure white with the darkest windows I could have.

  The inside bled pure rock ‘n’ roll freedom.

  There was always someone in the house.

  Cooking, cleaning, taking care of things.

  The only true rooms I had that were mine to be in alone was the master bedroom and the recording studio.

  The studio was a second garage I had built.

  It had a second-floor loft area with a full bathroom and bedroom.

  Up there, at the right angle, on a mostly clear night, you could see the lights of the city.

  I sat behind a piano with Nash standing there with a notebook, jotting down lyrics.

  Jay was on a barstool with a guitar hooked up to a small amp with the reverb as high as it could go.

  Dex and Sab each had acoustic guitars, just strumming the basic chords of what I was messing with on the piano.

  There was a vision to this song.

  I knew what Nash wanted to do.

  We had written so many songs and albums… we had played for millions of people across the world… and now there was a sense of something different.

  But it wouldn’t be different though.

  It would be FILTHY LINE.

  Just our way of bringing a bigger sound to a laid-back song.

  Raunchy Recks hit big with the ballads on each album they released. They were considered to be the best ballad band in the world. That much I couldn’t argue with. I hated those fucking guys for a million reasons, but Neo knew how to sing a sad song.

  We had our own slowed down songs too. All of which were amazing.

  And even the fast stuff… it was written in a way that allowed us to slow it down and have a chilled-out moment with the fans.

  In the studio, there were no fans.

  It was just us.

  Our music.

  Our message.

  And plenty of whiskey and drugs.

  The top of the piano was lined with whiskey bottles and lines of something else.

  “I think the basic feel works,” Sab said. “We can go all acoustic sounding here… or with pianos and strings… or we can throw in drums…”

  “It has to have drums,” Nash said. “Let it be a journey. Piano leads to guitar leads to drums leads to big solos…”

  “Here,” I said. “Let me try this…”

  My fingers moved on the piano gently.

  I wasn’t a classically trained pianist.

  My lessons came from Mitchy and Linx.

  We’d get drunk and high then I’d have them show me a thing here and there.

  I learned all the parts needed for our songs so I could play them on stage when needed.

  But to write a song…

  I fumbled around the piano with the three chords Nash and Dex had come up with. Playing it on a piano with just a F, C, G sequence worked. I decided to toss in an A minor and that changed the song.

  “If we want to go sad, you have to go sad,” I said to Nash.

  “That’s good,” he said. He stared at his notebook. “I tried to take you home. But you went another way… away…”

  Jay hit a few notes on his guitar way up the neck, making it gently scre
am.

  It was actually getting loud for me.

  So I stopped playing and stood up.

  I cracked my knuckles and walked to the side of the piano.

  I looked down at the perfect white lines of a bad decision and shut my eyes.

  After a line of that, I grabbed a whiskey bottle and walked away.

  The studio had a total cabin like feel to it.

  The main area was all wood with a gas fireplace, a high ceiling and big windows.

  I looked at the fire in the fireplace.

  The fire in a man’s heart… a tough game to play…

  Honey, you’re on the corner, singing for the night… don’t look away from me, not this time…

  I touched my jaw and let out a sigh.

  The writing session came to an end.

  “Should we make some calls and get a little crazy going on here?” Jay offered.

  “I’m getting a ride home,” Nash said. “I’ll keep working on these lyrics though.”

  “Pussy…,” Sab growled under his breath.

  “It’s exactly what I’m going home to enjoy,” Nash said.

  “Bring Liv here,” Jay said. “So we can all enjoy her.”

  Nash stepped toward Jay and Dex put his hand to Nash’s chest. “He’s fucking with you, Nash. You know that.”

  “Same goes for Candice,” Jay said.

  Jay cackled and turned around with his phone in his hand.

  If we were going to do this, it wouldn’t be in here.

  The recording studio was sacred to me.

  I turned off the gas fireplace.

  Nash and Dex took off.

  Jay wiggled his phone at me. “Company is on its way.”

  “What about the piano?” Sab asked. “There’s some leftovers over there.”

  Jay looked at me and grinned.

  I laughed.

  “We better clean up before things get filthy.”

  * * *

  I wandered my way outside.

  My house was loud. Full of booze, drugs, and half naked women.

  God bless rock n’ roll.

  I took a deep breath of the warm night air and smiled.

  Above me the stars shined.

  That was another cool thing about living out here.

  You had a sense of being away from the world yet still being a part of it.

  I kept walking and knew I was going back to the studio.

  My bed was big enough to fit me and four women comfortably and here I was sneaking away to the fucking recording studio.

  I’m getting as soft as Nash and Dex here…

  I went into the studio and there was just one light on in the place.

  It was just enough light to see the shadows of everything.

  I sat my ass back down in front of the piano and started to play.

  Whatever came to mind, I went with.

  “Honey, you’re on the corner, singing for the night… don’t look away from me, not this time…

  The fire in a man’s heart… a tough game to play… you know come midnight, I have to make my way…”

  I played through the piano part again.

  “Ten years disappear in your smile, I don’t need this bottle to think. I fall into you as you fall into me…”

  I stopped playing.

  I took a deep breath.

  It was all there. Right in my mind.

  Fucking with me.

  It was the image of Abby, standing on the corner, wearing some kind of outfit or costume with a few other women.

  The wild girl who I met when she was singing on the stage in a Nashville bar.

  I looked down at the piano again.

  “Honey, are you still on that stage? Making your way. Taking their hearts, for three minutes of pay. Chasing your voice each and every way…”

  I kept playing and shook my head.

  Hands touched my shoulders.

  I looked left to right.

  I grinned when I saw the color of the nails.

  A flirty neon-green color.

  Those hands moved down to my chest.

  Then her cheek was against mine.

  I shut my eyes and thought about Abby again.

  Fuck.

  I opened my eyes.

  “You’re not supposed to be in here, honey,” I said.

  “The door was unlocked. I was looking for you.”

  “And you found me,” I said.

  Her hands moved down some more. “Was that about a girl that broke your heart?”

  “That’s a secret song,” I said. “No telling you heard that.”

  “You’ll have to keep my mouth shut,” she whispered. “Or full.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  “Then arrange it, Reed,” she said.

  I slowly turned around and leaned back against the piano.

  She was in a ripped t-shirt that looked stylish on her.

  And a black pair of panties.

  That was it.

  She had been eye fucking me all night.

  She touched my chin and bent forward to brush her lips to mine.

  The taste of whiskey on her lips made me smile.

  She moved to her knees and I opened my jeans.

  I put my head back and let out a sigh.

  She put her hands to the piano bench and let her mouth do all the work.

  It wasn’t what I wanted.

  But what rock star is ever going to turn down the chance to unload in a groupie’s mouth?

  4

  ABBY

  “Still awake or just getting up?”

  The glow of the TV spread across the living room as Jess shuffled toward me.

  “Which one would make you hate me less?” I asked.

  “The one where there’s coffee already made,” Jess said.

  “Fuck. I let you down.”

  Jess yawned and grabbed a blanket and crashed down to the couch next to me.

  “I always end up out here anyway,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. It’s my routine.”

  “I guess everyone has a routine,” I said.

  “And yours is staying up all night to watch infomercials about vacuum cleaners?” Jess asked.

  “No,” I said. “The last one was for some foot stuff that takes years off your feet.”

  “Wow,” Jess said. “Sounds like you had a busy night.”

  “Shut up,” I said and yawned.

  “Close your eyes, Abby,” she said. “Get some sleep.”

  We stared at each other for a few seconds.

  She knew why I was awake.

  I knew why I was awake.

  I didn’t want to talk about it.

  But I knew Jess was going to poke at me.

  “You should figure it out,” she said to me. “I don’t know how that side of life works. But running and ignoring it…”

  “You have money?” I asked.

  “No,” Jess said with a laugh.

  “So then don’t talk about it.”

  “Talk to Sasha,” Jess said. “Or get some extra gigs. Go to Ungro. There’s got to be stuff out there.”

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “Oh, no, no,” Jess said, shaking her head. “You’re not twisting this thing on me. I don’t have people calling me. Looking for me. Scaring the hell out of me.”

  “I’m not scared,” I said.

  “You’re wide awake, Abby. Your eyes look sick. You look ready to throw up. Don’t tell me you’re not afraid.”

  “I’m going to sleep now,” I said.

  “Of course you are,” Jess said.

  I put my head down on the pillow Jess gave me hours ago.

  The guy on TV was very excited that his vacuum picked up all the cereal off the floor faster than the competitor’s vacuum.

  Maybe I can do that. Get paid to be overzealous because of a vacuum. Do TV and commercials…

  My eyes started to shut.

  Jess touched my leg an
d patted it.

  She was a good friend.

  Probably the only true friend I had.

  She didn’t know all the secrets, but she knew enough.

  Just me being in her apartment was a risk for her.

  She knew that and didn’t care.

  I drifted off to sleep.

  I need a few hours rest.

  I had a big day ahead.

  Singing Happy Birthday to some spoiled little brat.

  * * *

  I woke up to breakfast on the coffee table.

  Jess was in the shower as I ate.

  I cleaned up everything in the kitchen as my way of saying thanks to her.

  When she got out of the bathroom, I went in for my turn.

  I showered and cleaned myself up.

  The call from yesterday was already working its way out of my head.

  It happened more times than I’d ever admit to anyone.

  And they knew I didn’t have the money.

  So what?

  In their eyes, they could bother me, scare me, and that was enough for the moment.

  And trust me, they were good at their job.

  I packed up my bag and threw it over my shoulder like I was in my early twenties again, getting ready to hit the road, not knowing where I was working, singing, or sleeping that night.

  “You can stay,” Jess said.

  “I’m good,” I said. “We better get to work.”

  “Want to warm up our singing voices?” Jess asked with a smirk.

  “You’re a bitch,” I said.

  I followed Jess to a little boutique in a quiet part of the city.

  That’s where we always met.

  Sasha’s best friend - Marianne - owned the place.

  The back room was really big, which gave us all space to get dressed for the day.

  It was another fun day of pinstripes and laughs ahead.

  Rae was late.

  Because Rae was always late.

  We were all dressed when Rae came through the front door with the biggest pair of sunglasses on her face I’d ever seen.

  “Hitting it hard last night?” Sasha yelled into her ear.

  “Ew, fuck you,” Rae said.

  “I’m going to have a cigarette,” Jess said.

  “Spray yourself with perfume when you’re done,” Sasha said.

  “Yes, Mom,” Jess said as she walked to the front door of the boutique.

  “Hey,” Sasha said to me, grabbing my arm. “How much do you love me?”