Jameson's Addiction

by Glenna Maynard

  Out in the driveway he presses me up against his truck and kisses me again.

  “Everything is going to be different come tomorrow. All the local radio stations are going to be playing your song.” I smile at him as he opens the door for me.

  “Nothing will change. You’ll always be my Fancy.”

  He gets in the driver’s seat and peels out onto the road. I lean over and kiss his neck as he drives. I should have been home an hour ago. Nan is going to tan my hide, but it will be worth it.

  “I love you, Jameson.”

  “I love you, Peyton.” His mouth seals over mine. I close my eyes, and I feel so damn alive right now. So in love. Like I could fly up into the clouds and just float away on his love for me.

  Then Jameson is ripped away from me as metal crunches and I do fly. I fly right through the windshield of his car.

  I land in a heap on the ground. I can hear the horn blaring in my ears as they start to ring. I cough, tasting blood in my throat. I want to yell for Jameson, but I can’t. Shards of glass prick my skin and I feel like maybe I am dying. I blink my eyes as my vision blurs then everything is gone including Jameson Lewis.

  I just want to feel again

  I’ve lost all sense of control

  My baby has gone away

  I’m too young to feel so little

  I just want to feel something

  Make me feel you

  Make your love real

  I just want to feel again

  Come back to me

  Hurt me

  Love me

  Bring me your heart

  Bring me your soul

  Make me feel alive

  A month passes before I come out of my coma and when I open my eyes to the changed world around me, my heart is completely shattered. Not only did Jameson skip town, but I lost my unborn child. I didn’t even know I was pregnant, and now I feel so hollow inside. How could Jameson just leave me without saying goodbye? How could he be so heartless? I thought that he loved me. He promised me I would always be his Fancy. His girl. Now I am nothing to him but a distant memory. Just somebody he used to know. The girl down the street he used to swap spit with. I’m back to being loser Peyton. The girl obsessed with dying. My world is dark and black as night. There’s nothing for me without him. I simply want to know why he left me? Why he made so many broken promises to me? What was the point of it all? Of loving him? I wish I never met Jameson Lewis.

  If this is what love feels like, then I will never love anyone ever again. Definitely not him. This hurts deeper than any of my cuts. I don’t know how I am supposed to live without him. I can’t breathe and the walls of this stupid hospital room are closing in around me.

  After a week of physical therapy, I am released from the hospital. My anger and my hurt fueled my recovery. I have gone through all the stages of grief. I thought that maybe Barb was lying to me and just wouldn’t let Jameson see me because we had been drinking and with me being pregnant, but I have to face the reality that he’s gone. He left me.

  I’ve been moping around my dad’s apartment. Barb insisted on being the one to take care of me. Said it would be too strenuous on Nan. I don’t know why she bothered it’s not like she is ever even home during the day. She’s out lunching and shopping with her friends spending my father’s money. Flopping down on the couch I grab my laptop and check Jameson’s feed on his social media account. He hasn’t posted since before the accident until today. My heart sinks to the floor and cracks open all over again. He’s in California in a recording studio.

  I’ve lost him forever.

  I type out an angry comment then hit backspace. He couldn’t be bothered to check on me after nearly killing me in that car wreck. Why should I care what he’s doing now?

  Because despite all my hurt I still love the jerk. God do I love him. I just want him back. I want to hear his stupid voice calling me Fancy. Telling me I’m his girl and that he loves me.

  I close down my computer and fall apart. I feel like my body is being thrown from that truck all over again. Jameson doesn’t want me. Maybe he never really did. My stomach tenses, and I touch my hand to my lower abdomen wondering if the baby I lost knows that even if Jameson didn’t love us, he or she was wanted. I loved him or her enough for the both of us, and I mourn the loss every single moment of every single day. I mourn them both. Jameson didn’t die but eh might as well have. That’s what this feels like. Death.

  Karson has been coming over to keep me company and through a shared love of cookies ‘n crème ice cream and our disdain for stupid jerks we are bonding. I’m finding maybe she’s not so bad after all. Especially when she brings over one of Jameson’s CD’s and we burn it in the backyard.

  The Present

  “You gonna tell me what happened with Wes?” Nan squeezes my hand across the table.

  No, I think to myself not all of it. “We broke up. It was never going to work between us anyway.”

  “Well, he wasn’t a favorite of mine. You know your home is always here with me.”

  “Thanks, Nan. I think during the duration of filming they rent a house or hotel rooms for the contestants. It’s all in the contract.”

  “Sounds exciting. Now tell me where Jameson fits in. Pappy said he couldn’t take his eyes off you the other day when he came by.” I roll my eyes at Jameson not her.

  “He’s a complication that I will just have to deal with. He’s going to be a judge on the show, and they want to use our shared past for ratings.”

  “Sounds dishonest, but I don’t know much about that stuff. Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah.” I offer her a weak smile with my lie. I am far from okay. But I know how to pretend. How to fake it till I make it. I’ve been faking it since he left me.

  Chapter 17

  Jameson

  My phone buzzes and it’s Pure Country. I have to take this call, and the distraction is welcome. I need to take my mind off Peyton for five fucking minutes.

  “Hello.”

  “Mr. Lewis, this is Monica over at Pure Country. Mr. Grant needs you to be in the studio tomorrow at five a.m. to tape a promotional spot for the show.” The icy tone of her voice tells me she didn’t appreciate the signed calendar I sent over to her.

  It’s a great calendar too. I did a shoot paying homage to all the greats who have influenced my career. Number one being the King himself — Elvis. I have a fascination with him. His talent still amazes me. I guess my obsession with his music started when I was a young boy. My grandmother loved him; she was always playing his music in the kitchen. She loved his movies too. I’d sit and watch them with her on Friday nights. She said she met him once, and he even kissed her cheek. I can still remember the smile on her face as she retold the story for the millionth time. I never got tired of listening to her tell her stories. They were important pieces of her life so that made them important to me.

  She passed away when Ruby was a baby. If she hadn’t died when she did my sister and I probably would have lived with her instead of Rodney and Thea, but then I might have never met Peyton or won battle of the bands. I might not be where I am today.

  The concierge has a coffee and car waiting downstairs for me. I get in the back of the car and guzzle the caffeinated sugar. I’m feeling rough from another night of going out drinking with Austin. He had to fly back to LA this morning to handle some shit for the band. We are supposed to be recording a new album soon, but truth is I’ve been needing a beak and this show is the perfect excuse. Not to mention I don’t want to be in the same city as freaking Viola. The crazy bitch. Austin said she poured bleach all over all my shit. Everything is ruined. But it’s only stuff.

  Sitting in my chair having my hair and light makeup applied I can feel Monica’s icy glare across the room as she watches me. Sorry, babe, I’m not going to be your good time, but I might be hers if I wasn’t so damn hung up on Peyton. My dick would normally jump at the sight of someone as pretty as Gwen Owens taking up the seat next to me. Sh
e’s young but legal. Her long red hair sweeps across her back and she greets me with a warm smile and piercing green eyes. She’s no Peyton. No one compares to her and they never will. She is irreplaceable, I don’t know why I ever thought there could be anyone for her but me.

  I flash my sexy grin and as I look her over, I see her texting and smiling at her phone. She catches me glancing at her phone. “My fiancé.” She waves her phone at me. “He says he misses me already.” She giggles and goes back to her phone. She glances over at me again and says, “My fiancée says his mom loves you.”

  I smile at her and tell her I will get her an autograph.

  Jace Cyrus takes up the chair to my left. “How you?” He talks like he’s got a mouth full of dip, but it’s just his heavy Louisianan accent. I nod and exchange a few pleasantries with the legend. He’s got songs older than me and I respect him and his career a lot. I guess it’s just the three of us when ah hell no — the she-devil herself comes waltzing in late like she owns the studio. It can’t be. They wouldn’t I tell myself. I close my eyes and take a deep breath and hope that when I open my eyes she’ll be gone and just a figment of my imagination.

  I slowly open one eye then another, and peek around the room. No dice she is now taking up the chair opposite of Gwen.

  Fucking Viola. What the fuck? They can’t do this. I filed a restraining order against her.

  Wardrobe calls my name and I decide to use the fire that’s raging through my veins to make damn sure Viola doesn’t stand in the way of this show being a hit. If all else fails, I will go to Harvey and tell him it’s her or me. And hopefully if it comes down to it it’ll be me.

  For the commercial they have me dressed in a tight black t shirt, snug fitting jeans and black boots. They have Jace in a similar outfit, but his clothes are looser fitting and he is wearing a white V-neck tee and a denim jacket to camouflage his gut. Gwen matches me in a black dress and boots and Viola is dressed to match Jace wearing a yellow dress and cropped denim jacket. They have us take a seat at the judge’s panel on set. I have never been more thankful, they have us in box seats sitting on the sides of the stage.

  Viola is hosting the show and thankfully that means our interaction will be limited. But as soon as this shit is over, I am calling my team. I want the psycho gone.

  The way the show is going to work for the first half of the season is I will be working with a couple of contestants. We will start with two to three per mentor. When the show reaches eliminations there will no longer be teams, and it will come down to viewers’ choice as to who stays and who goes. There is one save card, but the judges have to agree as a whole who will be saved. We only get one save. This should be interesting.

  The tech guys start messing around with the lighting and the theme song for the show plays over the sound system. The lyrics are:

  Southern Nights

  Southern Lights

  Music City dreams

  Nashville Star

  You’re on your way

  What I wasn’t expecting were the contestants to be joining us. A group of them make their way onto center stage. I spot Peyton in the crowd instantly. Her wild curls and red boots are all the confirmation I need to know it’s her. She is chattering with J.J. Reese. I know her talking to him shouldn’t bother me, but I find myself biting my tongue to keep from yelling out for him to get away from her.

  I have no right to be jealous, but she’s always been mine in my heart.

  The director takes out his bullhorn and settles everyone down. You can feel their excitement buzzing through the air. I try not to run my fingers through my hair; it’s always been a habit of mine. I glance at Peyton one last time and for a brief second, she smiles at me. At least I think it was directed at me, but it could have been directed at Gwen, she is sitting right next to me. Or maybe it was just a smile because she is happy to be here. Fuck why am I sitting here analyzing every little move she makes?

  The contestants are lined up and of course they stand Peyton next to J.J. they are the two most attractive people out there. Viola joins them on the stage, and I hope she stays the fuck away from Peyton.

  After the shoot we are all invited to lunch so everyone can get acquainted. I do my best to avoid sitting near Viola or Peyton. I’m afraid of what will come out of my mouth. But I can’t stop myself from watching her, she lights up the whole room. “See something you like, Jameson,” Viola whispers, taking a seat beside of me.

  “Can we not do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “Pretend that we’re friends. I told you stay the fuck away from me. Why are you even here?”

  “We need to talk. I know I screwed up, but I just I think about you all the time, and I don’t want to tell you what I need to say in a room full of strangers. Can we go somewhere and talk?”

  “If you don’t want me to call the cops on your ass again, stay away from me.” I walk away and see Mr. Grant chatting with one of the cameramen.

  “You do know I have a restraining order against Viola, right?” I ask him, not giving a shit that I’m interrupting his conversation.

  “Yes, I was made aware of that, but I’m hoping you can put aside your differences and get along for the show.”

  “Not gonna happen. Fire her, now.”

  “Can’t do that, she signed a contract and so did you.”

  “Then rescind the offer. I can’t work with that crazy bitch. She broke into my LA home days ago and trashed it.” I glare at him. This guy is a dick. I never should have agreed to this shit. The minute I saw her name on the casting sheet I should have walked away.

  His jaw clenches. “You can’t tell me who I can and can’t have on my show, Mr. Lewis. Think of the ratings when America finds out that two of your ex-girlfriends are your costars. We are going to become very rich together. Very rich.”

  I shrug. “Don’t really give a shit, but you either get rid of her, or I’ll have this show so fucked up in lawsuits filming will never happen.” He keeps his cool demeanor as if he thinks he’s intimidating me. “I’m not saying another word about this again, if she’s back here tomorrow, I’ll call and report her for breaking the restraining order. And the next day after that. Your move now.”

  “Listen to me, asshole. I can make or break your career. Viola stays until she becomes a liability. And if I were you, I’d find a new lawyer. That restraining order has been tossed out.”

  I walk out, leaving him with his jaw clenched in anger, and give Viola the finger as I catch her looking at me.

  That bitch better stay out of my way.

  I slide into the backseat of my car and pull out my phone, dialing my attorney’s personal line.

  “Jameson, my favorite client. How’s Music City treating you?”

  “Wanna tell me why that restraining order on that crazy bitch was thrown out? Are you aware that she’s on the fucking set of my new show playing host? I pay you way too much to be dealing with this bullshit.”

  “Maybe if you answered my calls, you’d know that you were due back in court two days ago. I told Austin to get your ass back here. There was nothing I could do.”

  “What’d the cops do about her trashing my place?”

  “They couldn’t prove it was her.”

  “I have top of the line security installed. Don’t tell me she managed to avoid the cameras.”

  “The system failed right before the break-in. I’m sorry, Jameson. Unless she attacks you in the open, you’re just going to have to deal with her until filming ends.”

  “Fuck!” I punch the back of the seat in front of me.

  I hang up and dial Austin. “Dude, why the fuck didn’t you tell me about Viola getting off for trashing my place.”

  “I did try to tell you over drinks the other night, but you were caught up in Peyton and her drama.”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose I let out an exasperated sigh. This shit is going to be a fucking nightmare.

  “That bitch is trying to ruin my life.”

&
nbsp; Chapter 18

  Nashville Gawker

  Drama is heating up the set of that new reality show I have been giving you the scoop on. Viola Coretlla has been cast as the host. Yes! You read that right. The ex-girlfriend of the infamous playboy, Jameson Lewis. Do you think they will be steaming up the city nights together off and on the set? Sound off below. I know my thoughts…and Viola isn’t the name tattooed on his back. Sources say it’s the nickname of an ex-girlfriend from you guessed it—Music city. If I had to wager my money is on the mysterious chick from the nightclub who let him talk to the hand. Do you have a great story? I pay for leads on breaking stories!

  Chapter 19

  Peyton

  Filming the promo spot for the show wasn’t as terrible as I thought it was going to be. Though at the lunch today they announced that we will all be living in a house owned by the production company to save on costs. I hope they only meant the contestants. I can’t spend all my time with Jameson lurking around every corner reminding me of our past. We are to report to the house tomorrow and filming will start in two days. I’m freaking out a little. This is all happening so fast. We aren’t supposed to give any outside interviews or have contact with family and friends except for when we are given permission. I was coached and prepped on everything at the lunch and to top it all off they want Jameson and me to pretend we don’t know each other when the cameras are rolling. I feel sick about the whole thing. America is going to brand me a liar. Mr. Grant promised me that I wouldn’t be made to look bad, but I am having second thoughts.

  My father even had his partners comb over the contract, and I made a huge mistake in signing it. I am at the show’s mercy until I fulfill my part. And if I win then I become their puppet—recording, touring, and performing at their will.