Fay was way too foul-mouthed for a young girl. She wasn't wrong, but she was foul-mouthed about it. Maybe I would've been better off staying in my room, beating off. That way, I wouldn't be nearly as heartbroken now.
"How come she had your number, but you don't have hers?"
"I gave it to her. Wrote it on a slip of paper. That was a fool move. If I'd texted it to her, I'd have her phone number, at least."
Polly came over to us. "Fiona's going to give me some modeling tips. Wanna join us?" she asked Fay.
"Hell, yeah."
I got up too.
"What are you up to?" Polly asked.
"Modeling tips. I'm in. I need to look good in these photos too."
Polly laughed, but I wasn't joking. Even if I hated this stuff, I didn't want to look bad.
"My tip would be to wipe that misery off your face. You were ditched. Happens to the best of us. You're got to move on," said Polly.
I bet Fiona's tips would be better and more professional than that. She'd been a professional model for years. Everyone knew her face. When she began telling us what to do, I really understood what she was saying. If only people had told me this stuff years ago. All about lighting and angles. She did stuff to Fay's and Polly's makeup, too, which made them look more like their normal selves, just better versions.
Matty joined in with some tips of his own. The pair of them were all over this shit.
"Hey, I was in a boy band," Matty said. "This isn't my first photo shoot rodeo, you know."
I'd been through a few photo shoots myself, but I'd picked up nothing. Well, a couple of times I'd picked up the makeup artists, but nothing in the way of tips. I didn't pay attention to things like lighting or the best angle to hold your head. My main concern had been to get in and out in the shortest possible time.
Wreckage went in first for their shoot. We'd go in after them, and then the two bands together.
This place was pretty cool, an old studio on the edge of the city. One of the assistants handed me a coffee, and I sat back and relaxed.
"You'll be up for makeup next," she said. "So, drink that up while you can."
I gave her a nod. I'd only drunk half of it when they called us in, though. There was little hope that I'd be finished before that coffee went cold.
I went in and sat in the chair.
"Claire?" I said, looking at the makeup artist in the mirror.
"Yeah, it's me. I'm surprised you remember me."
"Always, babe," I said, shooting her the finger guns. We'd had a thing about a year ago.
She fussed around, doing my face. I hoped she wasn't cut that I'd never called again. I didn't want her doing a revenge face on me. That's why you should never hook up with the support staff. She seemed to be totally focused on the job, though.
"Say, Claire, can I ask you something?" This was a prime opportunity for some research. I had to ask this without sounding like a pathetic loser, though. "After we hooked up, were you angry that I never called? I guess that was a total jerk thing to do. It must be difficult to have feelings for someone, then have them leave you cold."
"More difficult to put makeup on someone who doesn't keep their mouth shut." But she shot me a smile, so I knew she was kidding around.
"Sorry if I hurt you," I said.
Before Rose, I'd never once thought about how it felt to be used. It'd never entered my head that there was a downside to it.
Claire laughed. "You're kidding, right?"
"No," I said, glancing up at her. "I mean it."
"It's not like I was expecting a happily ever after with a guy like you."
That was what I was worried about. A guy like me. What did that mean?
"Elijah, you're a player. Everyone knows it. You have no intentions beyond a good time. Any woman who expects more than that would have to be delusional or naive."
Damn it, she was right. That had to be what Rose had been thinking--that I didn't want more than a one-night stand, so she'd get out first. If I was a player, she'd outplay me.
Not only did I have to find her, I had to convince her that I was serious in my intentions. Fay had said a similar thing.
"So, what if I did want to have a serious relationship? What would I have to do to convince a woman of that?"
"I'm assuming you're not talking about me."
"Sorry."
She got out a big brush and flicked something over my face. "I'm not sure. You really do have a man-whore reputation. I can't believe some woman has captured your heart. It's going to take a lot of work to overcome that."
"But you think I'm redeemable?"
"Why not? If that's what you want, go for it."
I grinned. Claire was right. I needed to go for this. I could convince Rose that I wasn't such a player after all. I was experienced, sure, but that was only because I didn't want to waste my time on the wrong woman.
Then my heart dropped. To do that, I'd have to find Rose, and she'd asked me not to look for her.
Elijah
WE SAT IN THE BACKSTAGE room, Crow looking bilious.
"It's not any different from any other night," I said to him.
I knew that wouldn't help. These nerve flare-ups of his made no sense. He could play a hundred shows in a row with no issue, then suddenly be vomiting before he got up there.
Crow nodded. "Fay got me some drops. Hippie shit, but they're supposed to help."
With that, he got a small bottle out of his bag and added the drops to some water. I wasn't sure if it would help, since I was pretty skeptical about stuff like that, but if Crow thought it worked, then it probably would. Mind over matter.
"How's the songwriting going?" Damo asked me.
"Funny you should ask that, because it's going incredibly well. Amazingly well. I think I have a real gift for it."
I'd lied through my teeth. I had a few good lines and a tiny bit of melody, but that was it. I just didn't want to admit to Damo that I was struggling. I hated how he was always considered the brains of this operation and I was... Well, to be honest, I'd be the cock. That was all. Nothing more to me.
"Great. You can play it for us tomorrow before we go on."
Fuck. That did not work for me. If I backed out, Damo would know I'd lied, but if I played it... Well, playing it wasn't an option, because there was no it to play. A smart man would just blurt out the truth, but I'd never been known for being smart.
"Sure thing. Get ready to have your socks blown off."
Damo nodded.
Crow didn't look any better. I wondered how long those drops took to start working, but I had bigger issues to worry about than Crow's health. Maybe if I sat up all night working on this song, I'd have something worth playing tomorrow, like cramming for a test.
It'd be better that way. I wouldn't think too much, and the sooner I had the song written, the sooner we could perform it. I really wanted Rose to hear it. No matter what, I wanted my feelings to reach her. The problem was, over the past few days, my feelings had changed so much.
I'd gone from thinking she was something I was entitled to, my prize for winning at life, to considering her feelings. Even so, I did think I deserved a chance with her. Or, barring that, some explanation. If she'd said she had some external reason for running out on me, I'd be settled in my mind.
Anyway, something would turn up, some inspiration to get this song finished.
By the time we got onstage, my confidence had fully returned. I gave that crowd a show they'd remember. At least I did until we got to the second-to-last song. Then everyone's attention turned to Crow.
Mid-song, he jumped up from his drum kit. What the fuck was going on?
He ran offstage, his hand over his mouth and his face as white as a sheet. A few times, he'd been that sick before he went on, but he was always fine once he started playing. It'd always been pre-gig nerves. Never had he been like this onstage.
That wasn't good. Not good at all. He'd have to be really sick to run offstage like that.
/> Damo shot me a look, but I shrugged. I had no idea what was going on. Nothing more than Damo knew himself.
I grabbed the mic. "Okay, folks, looks like the last song will be acoustic."
I glanced at Damo, and he nodded. One of the techs rushed over to change his guitar. Hopefully, by encore, Crow would be over this.
Matty and I stood to the side and let Damo go solo. Then I walked back out and did hand claps to get the crowd into it. Luckily, we were finishing with one of the ballads and not a rocking number. This song sounded as good stripped back as it did with the full band.
I scanned the crowd. They all had a dreamy look on their faces. We could pull this off. Well, Damo could. There's nothing worse than a great show crashing down.
I never paid that much attention to the crowd other than the chicks in the front row, pressed against the barrier with their tits out. But now I had a great chance to check them out. Everyone seemed to get fired up.
I turned back to Damo. Polly had come onstage to sing with him in the chorus. They were damn good, too, the two of them singing together. You'd have thought they'd rehearsed this. Maybe they had. Damo liked to be prepared for any occasion. Maybe, after a session of hot sex, he made her practice just in case his drummer rushed offstage in a dramatic manner. Not likely, but possible.
I turned back to the crowd.
Shit.
There, over to the side, about five rows back. Was it her? It looked like her, but I couldn't quite make out her face, not with the lights and the people getting in my way. Damn crowd. Couldn't they stand back a bit?
I'd wondered if she'd turn up again, had hoped for it. But this was proof. Not 100% proof, but proof enough. That chick had on a red scarf. It had to be Rose.
I shuffled offstage and got one of the roadies to go find her.
"What does she look like?"
"This tall." I held my hand up. "Brown hair, classy looking, red scarf."
"I'll try, man, but it'd be like finding a needle in a haystack out there. But I'll try. I'll totally try." He started to walk off, then stopped. "Say, what do I do if I find her?"
Good question. I had no idea. No idea at all.
Elijah
I TRIED TO TELL MYSELF that it didn't mean anything, but really, it was a green light. She'd told me to keep away, but if she'd really meant it, she'd have kept away herself.
After the show, I rushed back to the hotel as soon as possible. It seemed that the drops Fay had given Crow had triggered some bad reaction in his gut. Polly screamed at her. Fay screamed back. Damo stood behind Polly, not saying anything but backing her up, and Crow tried to look like he was backing Fay up, but that was difficult when he kept clutching his stomach. The whole crew either got involved or stood around watching.
Then Fartstard said the van was ready to go back to the hotel. I'd never seen so many people clear out of backstage so fast. When Polly asked for my opinion, I knew it was time to get out of there. Having an opinion on something like that never ended well. Getting out of that backstage tension seemed like the smartest move.
I wanted to go to the wine bar, just in case Rose arrived, but I couldn't. I had to have this song ready to play.
I sat on my bed, strumming through the same chords over and over. That didn't trigger the slightest bit of inspiration. I went over the words, all the scribblings I'd made. Anything to fire up my brain. Still nothing.
After a while, I took a cold shower, thinking that might shock my brain into working. All it did was make me frozen from the inside. I put on some music, then turned it off. That just clogged up my brain. I had enough music in my brain interfering with my thinking.
A few hours later, I had bits and pieces but nothing solid. The whole thing didn't come together. It didn't flow. It was just random bits.
Sleep tempted me. People got inspiration in their dreams. I could do that.
But if I didn't get inspired, I have wasted all those hours. Instead, I pulled on my jacket. The cool leather one. Fay could say what she liked; she hadn't found Rose for me, so she would not get my jacket. It'd be miles too big for her, anyway. If she wanted a cool jacket, she could buy her own.
I had no idea where I was headed. I just started walking. I wanted to sort my head out, get all these ideas into some kind of order. Maybe then I'd be able to write my song.
The streets were quiet around the hotel. None of the party atmosphere I'd expected of Amsterdam, but maybe we were in the wrong part of the city. I didn't really want stag party groups right outside the hotel, anyway. A bitter wind blew around my ears and stung my eyes, but I ignored it. I could handle a little wind.
After about half an hour of walking, I realized I was in the neighborhood near where I'd seen Rose. I hadn't been purposely heading there, but my feet seemed to have found their own way. I guessed that was a sign. A sign of what, though? It wasn't like she'd be hanging out in the middle of the night. She was probably fast asleep, like any normal human being.
I wondered if she lived nearby. She might be sleeping in any of the apartment buildings I passed. The buildings all looked so solid and unapproachable, hiding their insides from the world. Some windows were lit up, but most were dark. A baby in one building. A party went on in another. At this time of night, there was a loneliness in the streets.
A few streets over, I saw a place that looked like an all-night cafe. Lights on, a few people inside. Nothing fancy, more the kind of place where the coffee is barely drinkable but the food is basic and good. I stepped inside, hoping at least to warm my hands. After that, I'd head back to the hotel and sleep.
I grabbed a booth along the back wall and picked up a menu. It wasn't in English, but there were enough words that looked familiar for me to work it out. I wasn't that fussed about what I ate, anyway. There were about five other people in the place besides me. The cafe had a cozy dinginess, like the owners had raided their friends' basements for furniture and knick-knacks. Things were written on the walls, but I couldn't read them. I pulled out my notebook, but the words swam in front of me.
Three things stood out in my notes: the vanishing smell of her perfume, the smoothness of her body, and the way she'd left me behind. Songs have been written on less. I played around with the words. The perfume thing would work as the main image. I just needed to pin down the exact scent. Not just musky, but something rich and decadent.
Decadent. That was the exact word I needed.
As though my thoughts had conjured it up, I could smell the exact perfume she wore. It almost overwhelmed me. Maybe it was a popular scent in Amsterdam. Or maybe I was losing my mind. Her perfume haunted me like a ghost. I'd smell that fragrance for the rest of my life.
I could use that in my song. The boldness of the perfume. Perfect.
The smell lingered as my coffee and food appeared on the table. Not even the greasy smell of my fries canceled it out.
I looked up, noticing the new waitress for the first time.
"How did you find me?" Rose said. She didn't look happy.
Elijah
I STARED AT HER, UNABLE to form words. To say I hadn't expected her to be here would be a massive understatement. My brain couldn't function. It was fate. Fate had brought me here. I loved fate. Fate was pretty much my favorite thing in the world.
Then she started to move away, and I grabbed her hand.
"I have to go. I'm working. I'm busy."
I looked around at the other customers, all five of them. She couldn't be too busy, not with two of them working. That was a massive staff-to-customer ratio, and none of those other people seemed rushed.
"Sit down for a minute," I said.
"Really, no, Elijah, I can't." The frown on her face deepened.
"Hell, Rose, I just want five minutes of your time. Can't you even give me that much?"
She looked around and caught the other waitress's eye. The other waitress nodded, and Rose sat down with me.
I exhaled. I had to make this fast, but I didn't want to say the wrong th
ing. I could ruin everything in those five minutes.
I tented my fingers and looked at her for moment, drinking in every detail of her face. She didn't look happy to see me, but she didn't look too upset, either. If anything, her eyes held a sense of resignation. I wanted to see much more than that in her eyes, but it was a start. I could work from there.
"I'm not going to ask why you ran out on me, but if there's some valid reason, like you're married or you have a terminal disease or you're an international drug lord, then tell me up front."
She grinned. She gave that grin to me like a gift. One of the best gifts I'd ever received. "Nothing like that."
She tucked a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. I wanted to do that for her.
"Can you give me a chance, Rose? I'm not much of a man. I drink too much, I screw around way too much, and I'm damn selfish most of the time, but I'm in town for the next few days, and I want to spend those days with you. I don't want to spend them screwing. Well, I do, but not just that. I want to get to know you as a person, not a fantasy created by my sex-crazed teenage imagination. I want you to get to know me, too, the real me. Two days, Rose. Can you give them to me? Then, when I leave town, if you don't like the Elijah you've seen, I'll let you slip away. No questions asked. No attempts to find you. I'll just disappear forever."
She stared at me.
"Think about it. It's not like I'm that awful."
The emotions flitting across her face showed me the inner struggle she was having with this. That she struggled so much really hit my ego. I'd have thought anyone would want that time with me, but I'd learned a lot in the last few days. Life had been a game to me so far. Maybe it was time the game ended and I got serious.
"I'm not sure, Elijah. I have a life here. I don't want it being upturned because some rocker comes to town. I'm not that kind of person." Her hands trembled a little.
"I don't want to push you into something you don't want, but don't you think we deserve a chance? Something made you come backstage the other night. That wasn't an accident. You had to talk your way through Security, and I don't know how you did it, but you made that decision. If you just wanted one night of fun, fair enough, but take the chance, Rose. Find out if we can be more."
Rock Mayhem: 8 Complete Rock Star Romance Novels Page 57