"And then what?" I asked. Hell, she wasn't painting a pretty picture.
"Well, based on all the research I've done, you'll be called on to put a ragtag bunch of kids together as a team and coach them all the way to the finals. That way, you'll redeem yourself."
I gave her a shove. "You really do watch too many movies," I said. "I'm not turning to drink, and I'm never going to be washed up. But yeah, maybe I should do something." I had no idea what that something could be, though.
Crow shook his head. "Forget it. She knows where you are. She knows you want it. Go searching for her, and you'd just be bugging her."
I didn't want to admit he was right, but, dammit, he was.
"Maybe she had a reason to leave," I said. "Like, she has terminal cancer, and she just wants to fulfill her dreams in the time she has left. She had no idea that I'd stick by her."
"Dude, shut up," Crow said. "You have no idea what it's like for someone dying of cancer. And I doubt you'd be on anyone's bucket list."
"I'm pure bucket list material. Guaranteed. But okay, maybe it's not that. Maybe she's stuck in a loveless marriage and she just wanted one night of paradise before she goes back to her cold fish husband. She needs my strength to leave him. Or maybe she..."
"Maybe she's just not that into you," Crow finished. "Stop reaching for lame excuses."
He shook his head, then stood up to leave. Fay trailed after him. They really were an unlikely couple.
When they were gone, I thought a lot about what Crow had said. I was a man of action, not one for brooding, but maybe this wasn't a time when I could take action. I should just let her go. Maybe, even if I could find her, I wouldn't want to hear what she had to say.
Elijah
I WASN'T PLANNING ON stalking her. I wasn't even looking for her. I was doing a simple Google search. Nothing wrong with that.
Okay, I went on Facebook and searched for her, but I couldn't find anything. Then I looked up my old high school and anyone associated with it. According to the information I could find, she had quit a year after I graduated. There was no mention of where she'd gone after that, and I couldn't search every website of every school in the country.
There was one guy, Smithy. We'd hung out a bit in school, and he'd never left my home town. The sort of guy who knew everything and everyone. I sent him a message. If anyone could tell me where she'd gone, it'd be him.
Other than that, nothing. It was like she'd vanished into thin air when she stopped working at my high school. Or maybe it was just that Jones was such a common surname, which made her hard to track down. She could've even changed it. She could've gotten married in the last ten years. She could've just changed it for shits and giggles.
It was all well and good for Fay to say I should hunt her down. It was much more difficult in real life.
After I'd been through ever resource the internet had to offer, I figured there was only one option. I'd ask Fay for help. I hated doing that, but she might have ideas that would never occur to me. The Firecracker had no end of ideas, that was for certain.
I couldn't ask her in front of Polly, though. That would be the worst. Polly would tell Damo, and then everyone would know, and I'd be even more of a laughing stock. I had to get Fay alone.
I knocked on her door, hoping things would be that easy. Nope. No luck. She'd probably lured Crow out for the day. The two of them spent every minute they could together. Well, every minute they could get away from Polly.
I went back to my room and checked to see if Smithy had gotten back to me. Nothing yet.
A while later, I heard a noise. Was that Fay back?
I peeked out my door. It was the whole Wreckage crew. Jax, Polly and Fay. I couldn't talk to her. Jax would be even worse than Polly. He'd smirk. I hated smirking the most.
I shut my door again. I'd get Fay alone after the show.
Damn it, I had to get up onstage tonight. Would the world see traces of my broken heart in my playing? After Damo and Polly broke up, he'd lost it onstage. Would I be like that?
No way. I'd put on a brave mask. No one would know the torment inside, because I couldn't show that to the world. On the outside, I'd be good old Elijah, wisecracking with the crowd and playing like a god. Not one single person would know what I was going through.
And she might be there in the crowd. She'd knocked back my offer of free tickets, but maybe she didn't want me to know she'd be in the crowd. Or maybe she hadn't planned on coming along, but after she had time to think, she'd realized what a fool she'd been. I couldn't let her see me crying like a little bitch because she'd left me. I couldn't let all hope be lost.
Then another idea hit me. If she was in the crowd, I could get a message to her. Hell yeah. I jumped up. This was no time for moping and staring out the rainy windows. I needed to look my hottest up there. She could be hiding in the crowd, and I had to make sure I was impossible to resist.
The best way to do this would be to write a song for her, one with hidden meanings that only she'd understand. I wasn't sure how to go about writing a song. Normally, Damo did all the songwriting for the band, but it couldn't be that difficult. I just needed to think up some music and the right words to go with it. I could play music, so surely I could write music. I'd get onto that tomorrow. I'd have to use simple words tonight until the song came together. I wasn't even sure what hidden meanings I could put into it, but it'd come together.
I started getting ready. None of the onstage outfits I had were sexy enough. Damn it. I needed tighter pants, a bigger belt buckle. I needed to work out. I'd let myself go since we'd been on tour. Too much junk food, not enough weights. My skin looked a bit greasy, too. That thing I'd had, the Elijah magic--I'd started losing it. It'd be all downhill from here. I'd enter the aging rock star zone, relying on my name and money to get chicks instead of my good looks. But I didn't want other chicks, so that didn't matter. Except it did. I might not want them, but it'd be a sad day if they decided they didn't want me.
I checked my phone again. Smithy had replied. He knew no more than I did, and he asked for free tickets to our show when we hit town. If he wanted free tickets, he could dig a bit deeper. I couldn't give free tickets to every loser who asked for them.
I got myself together as best I could, then headed to the lobby to meet Damo and the others. They weren't there yet. Well, except for Matt and his girlfriend, Fiona. They were sitting on a bench near the door. I'd never spoken to Fiona, but I had the idea she thought I was a bit of a jerk. I hated people thinking that, but I didn't have time to correct every single person who was wrong. It did make me uncomfortable around her, but she didn't come to the shows that often. I had no idea what her story was, just that she'd been a famous model but she'd quit to be with Matt.
Matt nodded. I remembered he and Fiona hadn't been at breakfast, so they probably hadn't been in on the joke everyone else had made of my life. That helped me relax. Normally, I didn't mind being the brunt of a joke, but that had struck deep.
The others soon joined us, and we headed off.
We got to the arena, did a short sound check, then relaxed backstage. Damo hung out with Polly. Crow didn't say anything, so I was left alone with my thoughts, and my thoughts were all about Rose. It'd be ridiculous to scan the crowd for her. She'd never stand out among all those people, but I had a feeling I'd know in my heart if she was there.
By the time we got up to play, I was revved up. I'd convinced myself she'd be out there somewhere. I wasn't easily forgotten.
The show went great, as usual. All the initial kinks in our performance had been ironed out. We could just relax and do our thing. And, hell, the crowds in this city loved us. We could do no wrong. An enthusiastic crowd, full of noise and energy, made playing a pleasure.
We got to the song just before the end of the set, and I grabbed the microphone. I usually said a few things just before this song, so that was nothing out of the ordinary. Tonight, however, I had something specific I wanted to say. My opportunity.
"Rose Jones? Are you here? Rose, I love you. I need to see you again. If you're here, let me know."
About a thousand people screamed, so if she was out there, I'd never know, but I'd said the words, and I'd keep saying them until I got an answer. We were fated to be together, no matter what Crow said.
Elijah
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU did that!"
Damo didn't look happy. In fact, you might say he was rather pissed off. He'd cornered me after the show, and I knew a lecture was coming.
"What else can I do? I don't know where she lives. I don't know how to find her. All I can do is hope she comes along to another show and my words reach her."
"Are you even Elijah?" Damo asked. "This woman, did she drug you or something? You've gone from being all Elijah-like to being this sappy schoolgirl. Our concerts aren't some broken hearts club for you. Just get over her."
That was easy for him to say. But the truth was, I had changed. I wasn't the same Elijah I'd been even 24 hours ago. Last night, I'd been in this backstage room, partying and thinking of nothing more than which twin I'd penetrate first. Then, bam. No other woman existed for me. That had to be love. I could understand why people mocked me. I'd have mocked the fuck out of myself.
"You can't stop me from calling out to her," I said. "You can't control me."
Damo grabbed my shirt front and shook me. "We don't do this kind of thing," he said through gritted teeth. "Get it? If you want to find her, go play private detective on your own time. She took you to a bar. Start there."
He walked away, and I wanted to run after him, to tell him how wrong he was, but, hey, that was a great idea. I'd go back to the bar. She might come in there, or that snotty waiter might know more.
I remembered something else.
"Hey, Damo, I'm writing a song. Can we include it in the show?"
He turned, one eyebrow raised. "If it's good enough. Play it for me when you're done.
Sweet. That was pretty much a yes.
After the crowd had cleared, I headed to the wine bar. At first, I couldn't find it. I wandered up and down the street, looking for the entrance. We'd gone up some dark stairs to a second floor. But there was no wine bar. No stairs, even.
It was like the place had disappeared. I couldn't even remember the name, but it'd been something fairly generic, like Good Wine Bar or Nice Wine Bar. I should've taken a coaster or some matches, except the coasters had been fancy fabric ones, not the paper sort with the bar name and advertising on them.
I was about to give up when I saw a dude walking down the street. That dude had fancy wine bar drinker written all over him, what with his expensive suit and all.
"Hey, do you speak English?" I asked.
"Yes. Can I help you?"
He sounded very formal, but, hey, English was English. I wouldn't refuse his help.
"I'm looking for a wine bar. I don't know the name, but it was around here somewhere. Well, it was. It seems to have disappeared. Fancy place."
"Red carpets, paisley wallpaper?"
Yep, that sounded like it.
"Doesn't sound like your kind of place," he said. Then he looked me up and down. "Hey, you're from the Freaks."
"Sure am."
"Let's go," he said. "I'll buy you a drink."
Fans were the best.
When we got to the wine bar, I scanned the list. I remembered what Rose had said. Drink the cheap stuff, or drink the expensive stuff; just make sure it's what you want. I got a slip of paper out of my wallet. Rose had written down the name of the wine for me. Stupid that I'd gotten that from her but no other details. Not her phone number or address, nothing. I'd thought I'd have ample time for that later.
The suit widened his eyes when I gave my order.
"Don't worry," I said. "I'll pay."
He grinned. He seemed like a sympathetic guy, so I told him everything. All about Rose and our night together. How she'd left me and how I was searching for her.
He nodded. This guy was super-understanding. Much better than any of my bandmates.
"Wow, that's one sad story," he said. "But I'll talk to the waiter for you. That might be easier, because his English isn't great."
The suit went off to talk to the waiter.
This wine sure was great. I poured us some more.
The suit and the waiter came back over to our table.
"He remembers her. She comes in here occasionally. Not that often."
The waiter nodded enthusiastically behind him. I'd been in here two nights running and had bought very expensive wines, so the dude had a reason to be enthusiastic.
He said something in Dutch, and the suit turned to me.
"She normally comes in alone. You're the first man she's ever been here with. She has one glass of wine, then leaves."
A huge weight I hadn't even realized was pressing on me suddenly lifted, even though the information didn't mean that much. Maybe she came in when she wanted a night away from the husband and kids, but all signs looked like she was single. She sure hadn't been wearing a wedding ring, come to think of it. She didn't even have a mark on her finger to show she'd removed it. Even without meaning to, I always checked.
I had a lead. It wasn't much of a lead, but it was something to go on.
"Does he think she lives nearby?" I asked.
The suit asked the waiter, but the waiter shrugged. He couldn't know everything, and maybe she didn't chat.
I wondered what Rose's life was like. I'd never thought about it before. All those girls had things going on apart from sex with me. If I had thought about it, I'd have assumed they'd move on to the next band when we left town. There was always someone touring, new rockers to fuck. But Rose wasn't like that. At least she didn't seem that way.
Normally, I'd never have sat around drinking with someone like that suit guy. I'd just assume we had nothing in common. But he seemed like a nice guy. Maybe too nice, too sympathetic.
"Hey, you aren't a reporter, are you?"
Shit. Maybe I shouldn't have blurted out my entire story. You never know with people.
"No, just a fan."
I had to take his word for it. After all, I couldn't unsay the things I'd said. But I didn't want the story of my heartbreak all over the media. Although it might be a bonus. If Rose read the paper, she'd see my story, and maybe she'd contact me.
The suit and I finished off the bottle, and I headed back to the hotel. Alone. I really had changed.
Elijah
MONDAY WAS A REST DAY. Only the most hardcore fans want to rock on a Monday, and we needed a break. Even Damo wasn't that much of a slave driver. He liked a day off as much as the rest of us.
I actually made it down to breakfast.
"We're going sightseeing," Crow said. "Coming?"
"Who's 'we'? You and Fay? Won't I be in the way?"
"All of us. Well, me, Fay, Jax, Matt and his woman. You won't be in the way."
Sounded fun, but I had something I wanted to work on. I needed to write my song. Damo had an old acoustic he carried with him. He never played it onstage, but he used it for songwriting. I could borrow that.
"No. No way. Not in a million years." That was his reaction when I went to his room to ask him.
"Come on, Damo. I never ask you for favors. Just this once."
"You're way too reckless, and that guitar is my baby."
"I thought Polly was your baby."
He rolled his eyes as if to say I'd never understand. I did, though. I'd have a fit if anyone touched any of my basses. But we were bandmates. Family. Surely he could do me this one favor.
He tried to shut the door on me, but I followed him in.
"I can do it in your room if you don't trust me."
"That doesn't help," he said. "I don't want you hanging out in my room, either. Especially while I'm not here. You'll move things around and make a nuisance of yourself."
"I'm hurt."
"Yeah, I'm a bastard, and I can hardly live with myself," Damo said.
"But that's how it is."
Polly came into the room, towel-drying her hair. "What's up?" she asked.
"Elijah thinks he can borrow my guitar. Not going to happen."
Polly smiled at me. "You taking up the guitar?" she asked.
"I want to write a song, and I figured using Damo's acoustic would help with that."
She shot Damo a look, clearly showing she was on my side.
"No way," Damo said. "You can both forget it."
"You can borrow my guitar," she said. She went in the bedroom to get it.
I wasn't sure why Polly had a guitar just sitting around at the hotel room. Maybe she was writing some songs herself.
"How come you get a fancy suite and we don't, anyway?" I asked Damo. His suite was really much better than my crappy room.
"We discussed it before the tour, doofus. Don't you remember? You and Crow said you'd be happy to have simple rooms rather than spring for suites. It's not like this comes for free. It's taken from my cut from the tour."
I nodded. Damo really knew how to treat himself. I had to get onboard with that. The idea that I was making real money doing this hadn't fully sunk into my head. At heart, I was still living on next to nothing, wondering how I'd get from paycheck to paycheck.
Polly handed me the guitar case, and I headed back to my room. On the way, I saw Fay in the hallway.
"Psst, Firecracker, come here."
I pulled her into a nook near the stairs.
"What's up, Lij? If people see us like this, they'll think something's going on between us."
Yeah, they probably would, but I didn't want to ask her this in front of the others. I checked the hallway, but there was no one around.
"You're a pretty bright kid," I said. "I need help. I have to find Rose, and I've only got one lead. I know she goes to a wine bar in the city, but that's it. She might not go back there until the tour is over. You could help me out, think of some way to find her."
"And?" Fay grinned at me.
"And?"
Rock Mayhem: 8 Complete Rock Star Romance Novels Page 55