by Shey Stahl
I twist my head to look at her, unable to stop the smirk from forming. “Who said that, you?”
“No.” She gasps, flopping her hand down on my knee. “People say it. You know, the people. The ones that know everything. They own Google.”
Running my hands through my hair, I fight the urge to either laugh at how high she is, or find Hardin and throttle his ass for this. “Cool,” I mumble, uninterested in redhead facts.
“I once counted my freckles. I have something like two hundred and thirty-six on my arm.”
“I don’t care.”
“You have six under your left eye. It’s like a sign of the devil.”
“Stop talking.” I groan, unable to handle much more of this. What if I tie her to the bed and then leave? No, because then all I will think about is her tied to a bed and me not there. At least this way I can assure myself nobody else walks in here and finds her half-naked. Maybe I should take my pants off and give them to her. I’d say I’d give her my underwear, but I’m not entirely sure I’m wearing any. That makes two of us.
Jesus, fuck. Will this night ever end?
She’s still talking about freckles, I think. Or maybe she’s moved on. Whatever she’s talking about, she’s disappointed I’m not following.
Narrowing her eyes, she points a swaying finger at me. “Are you listening to me?”
“Nope.”
“Whatever.” She flips her hand at me, her head flopping forward without the support. “You’re just mad my hair color is found in rainbows and yours is found in dirt.”
She goes on like this for an hour trying to convince me she’s really a unicorn in a pop star’s body. Then she digs into my past, an area I rarely let anyone discuss. It’s not that I’m trying to hide my fucked-up life. I just don’t think it’s relevant.
“How many siblings do you have?” she asks at around two in the morning, her eyes still wild with life and lips cherry red as she sucks down her third root beer in the last hour she finds underneath her bed. At least there’s no caffeine in it.
“I have four siblings.” I take the can away from her only to have her pull out a packet of Skittles and pop two in her mouth. “Did you rob a 7-Eleven?”
“No. I keep snacks in here.” Jumping up, she twists, gives me a very nice view of her bare ass and shows me the drawer full of snacks. “Want some sweets?”
Only if it’s sweet pussy juice.
The idea that we’re clearly not talking about the same sweets lifts the corner of my mouth as I inspect the drawer. “Are they ginger snacks?” I don’t think I meant for it to be as funny as she takes it but with the way Red tosses her head back and cackles, you’d think I just told her the funniest joke in the world, not the lamest.
We’re both on the bed now as she hands me a package of Ding Dongs. “Here. You look like the Snickers type.” And then she stifles a giggle with her hands. “Wait.” She stops, her eyes wide. “You have four siblings?”
I groan and rip the candy bar from her hand. “Yes.”
“What are their names?”
I stall and take the first bite, chewing slowly. “Grant’s the oldest, then Landon, Jenna, and Bonner.”
“Do you like them?”
I think about her question. The only reason I’m answering her is that I know in the morning, she’s never going to remember any of this. “Sure.”
“Your sister died, didn’t she?”
I nod, leaving out the part that Grant died recently too. She doesn’t need to know my drama. Hell, even I don’t want to know it.
“How?”
“Drug overdose.” I never really knew Jenna. Being Landon’s twin, they were closer, but in reality, I never knew any of my siblings. I was too busy in my music to get outside my own head long enough to care. Selfish, I know, but it’s a product of what I became and eventually how I got to where I am now. A prisoner in my own mind.
Red sighs. “I’ve never done drugs.”
I fight back laughter, and anger. “Uh-huh.” Taking another bite of my candy bar, I think she’s done with the questions, or at least I hope she is when she hits me with another.
“Do you miss them?”
Please, for the love of God, shut up. I play dumb, despite knowing where this is heading. “Who?” I look over at her.
Her cherry lips parting, she exhales slowly, giving me a glimpse at her pink tongue. “Your parents.”
I stare at her eyes for the longest time. They’re emerald speckled with gold confetti. They’re the kind of green that revives, brings the earth back to life after an unforgiving winter. “I don’t think you can miss something you never experienced. I was too young to remember them, so I suppose I miss the idea of them, but I couldn’t tell you a damn thing about them.”
Her eyes well up with tears. “That’s awful.”
Sighing, I finish the candy bar and toss the wrapper at her face. “It’s reality.”
“I can relate, in some ways.”
I think she can more than anyone as what’s worse than having your parents dead? Having them alive and never truly believing in you. “I suppose you can, huh?”
She does this thing where her eyes widen, and then she tosses her head back, dumps a mouthful of Skittles in it and then tries to chew them. At once. Her cheeks bulge, and all I can think about is how much she can fit in her mouth and imagining my cock in it.
Red notices my eyes on her and blinks slowly, swallowing the last of her candy. “I had a plan when I came on this tour and it didn’t involve you,” she admits, watching my reaction. “You’re messing with my head.”
Well, at least I’m not the only one!
“You don’t always have to have a plan.” I force her to lie down on the bed. Maybe if I can get her to lie down, she’ll stop fucking talking. “Sometimes you let go and trust your decision and see what happens. Fate might surprise you with something better.”
Her eyes, though bloodshot, hold so much emotion and intensity they’re hard to look away from. So I don’t. “That’s sorta beautiful.”
“I got it from a fortune cookie the other day.”
“Can I have a cigarette?”
Could she be any more random? At least she’s not counting her heartbeats out loud. “No, you can’t.”
“How come?”
“They’re bad for you.”
“Like you.” She smiles, giggles, and tilts her head like a puppy does when they’re confused. “Do you want to have sex with me?”
I raise an eyebrow, sighing. “What do you think?”
“Yes?”
“You should sleep.”
“I’m totally not tired.”
Why couldn’t he have given her an AMBIEN?
For two fucking hours, she goes on like this until I sing The Black Keys “Keep Me” to her while she lays her head on my chest. It’s probably the most romantic gesture I’ve ever allowed but I wonder if she understands why I sing it to her. She can’t even remember the question she asked five minutes ago let alone the meaning behind lyrics so I guess it’s asking a bit much of her.
Just before dawn, my lips purse around a cigarette as I flick the lighter in my hand. She’s watching me with stars in her eyes, but at least she’s not consumed with blackness any longer. I feel her breath on my neck, the weight of her innocence unhinging my sanity. “You should probably stop looking at me like that.”
Thankfully, she yawns, her head finding a resting place on my shoulder. “Like what?”
“Like Little Red Riding Hood just fell for the wolf.”
I watch her face, her tired eyes and I want to press stop, maybe even rewind, but I can’t find the button. It seems fitting for me, to want something so much, yet beyond a shadow of a doubt, know I don’t deserve it. I’ve learned over time though, the only sane way to live is without rules.
FOGGY MEMORY. AGAIN.
TAYLAN
It’s seemingly becoming a habit of waking up with Revel on the floor. And me naked. Only this time I at least
know where I am, and I’m wrapped so tightly in blankets that I have to wonder if I was restrained this way to either protect myself, or him?
My head pounds with the worst headache in the world. The kind that hangs heavy, throbbing in time with your heartbeat and never easing up. The kind you get and swear, whatever it was you drank the night before, you won’t ever touch. Like tequila.
Never again, you sneaky bitch, tequila. You ruined my prom!
It takes some effort to untangle myself. Sitting up, I’m pleased to see I’m at least wearing a T-shirt. I’m not completely naked. Underneath the shirt is another story. But Revel, he’s curled up on the floor in nothing but a pair of jeans, so I’m assuming it’s his shirt I’m wearing.
I smell it just to be sure. Cinnamon and cigarettes. Yep. It’s his. My bed is also covered in what appears to be candy wrappers. Looks like I had a binge-fest last night.
Peeking over the edge of the bed, I watch him sleeping, the slow rise of his chest, the muscles. . . damn, he’s so hot. No wonder most of the female population in the world is obsessed with him. Something stirs inside me as I watch him sleep. That kiss. We kissed last night. Warmth floods my body, settling in my belly and kick-starting my heart.
Me on stage with him.
Us kissing. Him stopping us. I reach up and touch my fingers to my lips, remembering the way his body felt pressed to mine, the taste of his mouth. . . . But then what happened? I went back to his bus with them, me and Bella, and that’s all I remember.
What the fuck is with Revved? Every night spent with that band and I can’t remember the next day.
Swallowing, it feels like I haven’t had water in days. The need becomes so intense I suddenly know how vampires feel when they’re thirsting for blood.
Crawling out of bed, I find my panties on the floor, slip those on quickly, step over Revel in the space between my bedroom door and the bathroom, then into the small kitchen of my bus. Usually there’s water in the fridge.
I open it to find my savior. Water. Taking two bottles from the fridge, I down the first, then the second. It’s still not enough.
I reach for a third, drink half of that and then promptly throw up.
That wakes Revel up because nobody pukes peacefully. I sound like Darth Vader deep throating. It’s so freaking embarrassing.
Sitting up, Revel props himself against the wall of the bathroom as I’m frantically brushing my teeth and trying to appear less zombie-like. I can’t imagine what I look like and the fear of knowing has me avoiding every single mirror on my bus. If I don’t know, I can remain oblivious.
Spitting toothpaste in the sink, I wash my mouth out with mouthwash, set my toothbrush down and draw in a careful breath. “I might never drink again,” I mumble, mostly to myself, but Revel hears me.
By the way, it’s morning, I think, and he’s already found the alcohol on my bus and drinking straight from the bottle. “Nice choice for breakfast,” Bella snickers, closing the door to the bus. She looks down at Revel, smiling, and then me. “Girl, I’m so glad you’re alive.” Her eyes drift back to the one drinking on the floor. He’s got his knees bent, his elbows propped on them and his head hanging. I’m guessing whatever it was we did last night, we consumed together? Kneeling before him, she points a tiny finger in his face. “You had better have taken care of her last night.”
Revel’s eyes snap to hers, and I can’t be sure, but I think he’s glaring at her. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” His voice is gravelly, a certain irritation present.
“It means your boy is on my shit list and you better not be on it with him.”
“Well, maybe your girl shouldn’t take shit from people she doesn’t know.” With a huff, Revel stands up, taking the bottle with him and then leaves the bus without saying anything to me or Bella.
“What was that about?” I ask, yanking at the edge of the shirt I’m wearing.
Bella plops down on the couch, her phone in hand. “Well, my love, you took a molly from Hardin last night.”
“I did what?” I shout, entirely too loud for my poor drugged brain’s liking and immediately feel sick to my stomach. What if this got out? What if my dad found out? What if. . . none of that matters because it’s my life and I shouldn’t have to explain myself. “Does anyone besides you know?”
“Everyone on the bus last night, and there were groupies.” Bella’s eyes soften when she notices the tears in mine. “I don’t know if anyone was dumb enough to talk, but it might get out.”
It hits me. Who I am? My following. The innocent young girls who follow my every move and worship the very ground I walk on. It’s not fair to them to hide anything about my life. They need to know while my intentions are pure, my heart is good, but I’m not perfect.
I sit next to Bella. “What happened after he gave it to me?”
“I’m not sure. I didn’t see him give it to you. I was. . . in a bathroom.” Which means she was with Cruz. “But after that, Revel found out, flipped a table over, and if it wasn’t for their security, I think he would have killed Hardin.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Revel’s wrath seems unpredictable, and I certainly wouldn’t want to be on the other end of it. Oh, wait, in many ways I have been.
“You have a photo shoot with Rolling Stone this afternoon, so I suggest you get in the shower.” She smiles at the shirt. “Shall I return that to Rev?”
My eyes widen. “What photo shoot?”
“The cover of Rolling Stone. They want the entire One Vibe tour on it. You, Revved, Hensley. . . . ” She breaks eye contact with me. “Breckin. It’s like one happy family of misfits.”
“Wow, sounds like the best day ever,” I mumble sarcastically, wishing for waffles. No lie. I want them so badly. Almost as much as I wanted that water before I threw it back up. Bella’s talking a million miles an hour about last night’s show and how everyone is going crazy over me singing “Walk This Way” with Revved and how I pulled it off. There’s even a picture of me and him back-to-back on stage. She shows me. I’m grinning like a fool and he’s smirking, as if to say, I’ve got my princess exactly where I want her.
I’m so fucked.
I’m curious as to why Bella’s so giddy these days, not that she’s not always in a good mood, but I remember I haven’t asked about her and Cruz. “So, you and the drummer.”
With a dreamy sigh, her hand flies to her heart. “We had sex and it was glorious. Like the best ever!”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her. “You’ve only slept with one other guy.” It’s not like I have any more experience. I’ve only been with Breckin.
“Yeah, but still. Drummer boy blew that dude right out of the boat.”
I laugh, and it hurts so bad. “You’re being careful, right?”
Her eyes find mine. “You mean with protection?”
I raise my eyebrows.
“I know what this is, girl. I mean nothing to him but a good time and you know, I’m fine with that. He’s fun and exciting, but I can’t expect a guy like him to find a girl he hooked up with on the road as a soul mate.”
“You never know though.”
“I’m not taking it to heart.”
“Okay.” I pat her knee. “I better shower.”
I TRIED TO STAY AWAY
REVEL
I have a lot on my mind I want to say. To her. To everyone. I still want to fucking kill Hardin. It seems I’m vulnerable to everything around me because of her. Normally I wouldn’t care. Weakness claws at me. I hate the way she controls me. It goes against everything I am to not be the one in control. I fucking despise it.
“I don’t mean to bother you,” a woman says next to me, smiling, a camera in hand.
“If you don’t mean to bother me, then don’t.” I don’t want anyone talking to me today. I’d prefer to be left alone for days, actually. Not here, at a fucking photo shoot, surrounded by everyone I can’t stand. I’m practically naked and wearing what looks to be a loincloth, and though you kno
w I prefer to be naked, it’s not me being stripped of clothes that makes me angry.
It’s her with her nipples covered in stickers and wearing a nude-colored bikini bottom. Everyone around here can see her fucking tits, and though I have absolutely no claim over her, my mind thinks otherwise.
Liz approaches me, anger-lit hazel scowling at me. “Can you please be nice for the afternoon?”
I lift the cigarette in my hand to my lips, drawing in a breath, then letting it out. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
Liz rips the cigarette from my hand. “There’s no smoking here, and you just told the editor of Rolling Stone to basically fuck off.”
I chuckle, running my hand through my hair. “My bad.”
She points to Hardin. “What happened last night?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh.”
“The tour managers want to talk about you guys performing a duet on stage every night of the tour.”
I’ll admit, as soon as I invited Red on stage, I knew where it would go. Did I want to continue performing with her? I didn’t not want to, but I couldn’t say for sure. “I refuse to discuss anything with you, or them, or fucking anyone unless you give me back my cigarettes.”
She pushes me forward toward the set. “Later.”
I’ve never enjoyed photo shoots. I don’t like my picture taken, which is why none of our covers have our photograph on them. I don’t see the point.
Liz walks away, and I’m left standing alone until Cruz finds me. “Dude.” He slaps his hand over my shoulder. “Can you believe that shit last night?”
I stare at him as though I have no idea what he’s talking about. Certainly he’s not talking about Red getting herself off while I watched, me jerking off in her bathroom, and then talking to me until five in the morning, or is he? Nah, he’s talking about Hardin, and I play the oblivious card. “What shit?”
“Hardin giving her a fucking molly,” he says, keeping an eye on Tinkerbella in the corner trying to adjust Red’s nipple covers discretely. Or maybe he’s checking out Red. I wouldn’t put it past him either.
It’s when he says the word molly that an unwelcome feeling wraps around my chest.
