by Meghan Quinn
Rook shifted in his seat and all of a sudden looked visibly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and said, “You guys were decent tonight.”
Decent? Well, that was a slap to the face. Decent was a backhanded way to compliment a band that you didn’t particularly care for. Decent was a way to say hey, you did it, but you could have been a whole hell of a lot better. Decent didn’t top the charts. Decent didn’t win Grammys. No, decent sent you packing back up to go play in the skank bars where men groped waitresses as their wives waited for their return at home.
Maisy tried not to get offended, but she had a hard time hiding her feelings.
“Decent? Really, that’s all you have to say?”
“It was your first show. What else do you want me to say?”
“You’re such an ass. I thought that maybe you were being a dick just to avoid me because, for some odd reason, you like to torture yourself when you like something but no, you’re just a giant ass with a huge amount of wasted talent.”
“Is that supposed to insult me?”
Frustrated, Maisy slammed her book on the table and looked Rook in the eyes.
“You’re infuriating. You think you’re so much better than everyone…”
“That’s where you’re wrong, boo. I know I’m not and I know I’m the piece of crap you think I am; you don’t have to tell me. I can see it all over your face. You don’t care about me as a person, so don’t even try to act like you do. I’m just a pretty face to you, an infatuation you’ve had ever since we came out with our first hit. I get it; that’s how everyone sees me. So don’t sit there and try to act like you have some interest in me, when I know all you want is my dick.”
Maisy had no clue what she was doing until her hand made contact with Rook’s face, breaking the dull silence of the bus with a giant smack of flesh meeting flesh.
Rook didn’t even flinch when her hand made contact with his face, as if he expected the reaction. Like he knew it was coming, like he was actually fishing for the physical contact.
“Maybe if you actually opened up to people so they could get to know you instead of using your dick as a cure-all, then people would actually care about you as a person.”
“Now why would I want that? So I could have whiney little song-stealing groupies like you following me around, knowing all my personal crap? As entertaining as that sounds, I think I’ll pass.”
Rook got up from the bench he was sitting on across from her and patted the table with his hand.
“Write a song about that. It will fit perfectly in your little hipster, woe-is-me album you’re putting together.”
Maisy didn’t watch Rook retreat to the back of the bus. She was too furious at the rapid mood swing she just witnessed from him. What the hell was his problem? One minute they were kissing in the studio, albeit he warned her to stay away, but still she felt his need for her and then the next minute he was insulting her to the point of tears.
Wiping away the condensation that slipped down her cheeks, she gathered her notebook, grabbed a blanket that was stored in the compartments above the sofas and stretched herself along the couch that lined one of the walls on the bus. She didn’t want to be in the same area as Rook. She didn’t want him to see her crying, or hear her sniffle. She was going to take this moment for herself, but after this, she was not going to let him take her down again.
She had no clue why he was being mean to her, but what she did know was what mattered. The critics loved them, the label loved them, and the crowd loved them. They didn’t need the approval from some about-to-be-washed-up, prick of a lead singer who didn’t know his ass from his own head.
She fell asleep thinking about all the people who cared about her and thought about how she was a success, but in the back of her mind she wondered why the hell she still yearned for the approval of Rook Tyler.
***
Fuck him. Why did he have to be such a bitter bastard? Why couldn’t he let one single human into his life? That’s right, because he had absolutely no heart at all, thank you Mom and Dad.
He needed to separate himself from Maisy. She was getting way too damn close to him and he had actually started caring about her, which was a big no-no on his life list. He didn’t care about people, ever. The only people he had a general interest in were his boys and that was because they ingrained themselves in his life; he had no choice in the matter. Even with them, he still tried to be a dickhead and push them away, but they were so used to his mood swings that they could give two shits in a hen house what he did to them. If they did get in a fight, they always made up the next day.
The other night when Maisy kissed him, he knew right then and there that he needed to put a stop to whatever was going on in her head. If he didn’t, her persistence was going to wear him thin and she would end up getting what she wanted, which scared the crap out of him.
Rook watched Twisted Perfection play from the side of the stage and was amazed by their ability to put away all the nerves and jitters they had and perform as if they had been doing it for years. Rook remembered his first performance in front of a sizeable crowd and he didn’t come close to crushing it like Maisy did. She was unstoppable and Rook admired her for it.
She was intoxicating to watch which was why Rook needed to separate himself from her. He knew if he got too close, he would be opening himself up to a world of hurt and he wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready to leave the safety of the drug and alcohol cocoon he had made for himself. He was safe there, numb from the world and the people around him. He enjoyed floating through life, never really feeling anything because when he felt things, it only hurt in the end.
Rook reached into the side of his bunk and pulled out a couple of pills that helped him sleep when he was restless. He needed them now because the only thing that was running through his head was the insulted and crushed look on Maisy’s face, as well as the sound of her silent sobs coming from the front of the bus. He was a giant ass of a man and the only way to forget about it was to lose himself in some of his favorite pills that daddy dearest left him.
Life was so much easier when floating on a cloud of emotionless feelings and bottomless thoughts. No one was able to reach him. When he was there, he was invincible.
Chapter 7
It was their second day in the studio in Seattle when Pete came charging through the sound room and interrupted their jam session.
Harper, their producer, was instantly infuriated with Pete’s lack of music decorum and pressed the button on the mic so everyone in the room could hear her.
“Excuse me, jackass, but we were in the middle of recording a damn song. Unless you’re planning on singing backup, I expect you to get your saggy ass out of the room in two seconds.”
“Don’t forget I work for the label too, Harper, and I can have a new producer in here before you have a chance to re-apply more of that red gunk on your lips.”
Harper threw her hands in the air and walked out, leaving Pete with the band.
Maisy didn’t want to sound ungrateful for Pete, he was great, but she was kind of killing it on the song she was singing and was slightly annoyed that Pete came charging into the room. But she held back her feelings and looked at Pete, waiting for him to tell them why he found it so impossible to wait until their song was over to interrupt them during their session.
“Have you seen the new People magazine?” Pete asked, breathing heavily with excitement.
“We actually haven’t been able to scour the grocery store lines for smut since we’ve been in the studio recording this whole time,” Kaid said sarcastically, but with the winning smile that always got him out of trouble.
Pete ignored Kaid’s sarcastic remark and held up the magazine that was opened to the middle. There was a group picture of Shattered Souls and Twisted Perfection in front of the restaurant they had dinner at. The title read, “Debut Band, Twisted Perfection with Chart Toppers.”
“It’s amazing publicity for you guys.”
&nbs
p; Everyone put down their instruments and went rushing over to Pete to get a closer look at the article.
They all looked amazing, thanks to Quinn and her styling. Even Shattered Souls never looked better. They all had their arms around each other and smiled for the cameras. The article talked about the tour and how Shattered Souls had a new, up-and-coming band opening for them that was very promising.
Maisy never thought she would see herself in a magazine, but there she was, smiling next to her bandmates; it was amazing.
“I can’t believe it; this is great,” Willow said, while staring at the photo a little closer. “Damn, we look hot, girl.”
Fending off Willow’s elbow that was poking Maisy in the ribs, she said, “We kind of do.”
“You’re damn right you do,” Pete exclaimed. “And look at this, it gets better.” Pete grabbed the magazine from Willow and turned the page.
There was a full page shot of Maisy and Rook in an intimate embrace. He had his hand wrapped around her waist and he was whispering something in her ear. Maisy remembered the moment like it was happening to her right there in the studio. It went down in her books as one of the most exciting moments of her life, when Rook told her she looked beautiful. That was all piss in a bucket now, since his rather rude and inappropriate depiction of their first concert.
“Oooh…that’s hot,” Willow crooned.
Kaid looked at the picture with his forehead crinkled. Maisy instantly knew Kaid didn’t like what he was seeing.
“How is that better?” he asked.
Pete shook his head at Kaid and patted him on the shoulder, as if silently saying, “you poor dumb fool.”
“If Maisy is linked to Rook…romantically, your popularity is going to skyrocket. The media will go crazy over it and it will be great for both bands. I just got off the phone with the label and they are on board.”
“On board for what?” Maisy asked, confused.
“For you two to have a relationship.”
“Ha!” Maisy could not help herself. “Have a relationship with that inconsiderate needle dick? No thank you, I would rather swallow a jar of syringes.”
“Come on now, I know he’s difficult, but it would be great…”
“I’m going to stop you right there. I’m all for taking one for the team, but I don’t think you understand what you’re asking here. Yeah, he’s hot as hell and very easy on the eyes, but even if I wanted to try to boost the band’s popularity by shacking up with Sir Moodypants, he wouldn’t even allow me to get close to him. He doesn’t like me, he made that quite clear the other night.”
Excitement lit up in Pete’s eyes. “Oh, so you tried to hook up with him already?”
There was no way in hell Maisy was going to tell Pete about their moment in the studio because she did, in fact, try to hook up with him then, at least she put it out on the table and what did he do? Shot her down like a fat pig trying to run away from the fire spit.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I didn’t. We just had a little quarrel and he made it quite clear how he felt about me and the band.”
“That’s a shame,” Pete said, completely devoid of any kind of emotion. “But I will tell you this, and you all better listen up. Your business is my business. There won’t be many things that I won’t know about you; it’s my job to know the gory details about your lives. As we learn more about each other, you will see that nothing fazes me anymore and, whether you like it or not, I will know how many times you pee a day, what your favorite dinner is and what your post-sex face looks like. Believe me.”
He turned to leave the room, but then spun on his heel one more time to face Maisy.
“Think about it. The label is not going to force you to do anything, especially with Rook who can be difficult to work with, but it would be a great opportunity for you and the band if you take advantage of the situation that so luckily fell in your lap.”
The band watched as Pete left, calling out Harper’s name to get her back in the studio.
Maisy looked at her bandmates to feel them out. They both avoided eye contact, leading her to think that they were on Pete’s side.
“Oh my God, you guys actually think I should try to hook up with him,” Maisy said, outraged.
“No,” said Kaid. “I don’t think you should hook up with him. I actually think you should stay away from him as much as possible. He’s bad news.”
“Kaid, stop being the older brother for a second and realize what this would do for us,” Willow said.
“Willow!” Maisy exclaimed.
“Hear me out, sweetie. We all see the way you look at him. So what if he can be a dick at times? If you take a couple of pics with him so the media gets the idea that you two might be together, it could really help boost our popularity. Think about it, it’s not like you would be going out of your way to be with him. You already look at him as if you want to eat him on the spot.”
“I do not!”
“Please, just this morning I thought you were going to toss your bagel on his dick and eat it like that.”
God, was she that obvious? She hated the man, despised him for what he said to her, for how much he hurt her, but she still couldn’t look at him and not lust after him. It was impossible. He captured her attention every time he was in the room, prick or not.
“Whatever, can we please leave my personal life out of our hopes of becoming popular and actually do it the right way, by sharing our music with everyone?”
“I agree, we will not be whoring ourselves out for a couple more fans. If people like us, they will like us for our music, not who we’re fucking on the side of the stage.”
Maisy kissed Kaid on the cheek and said thank you into his ear. She could always rely on him to stick up for her.
“When your Brady Bunch episode is over with, would you mind getting back to work?” Harper said through the speaker.
The band separated and grabbed their instruments so they could start up again. As they played their new songs, Maisy thought about how there was no way in hell she was going to sell herself to Rook for publicity. She would never give him the satisfaction of boosting her career. She already owed Shattered Souls so much, she didn’t want to owe Rook anything. She was going to prove to the self-loathing asshole that she could make it on her own with the talent that he only considered “decent.”
***
“What’re you listening to?” Cruz asked, as he took out Maisy’s ear buds and sat next to her on the couch on the bus.
The last couple of days, Cruz had been spending more time with Maisy than she expected. He went out of his way to talk to her, give her compliments and even bring her more tea while she was in the studio. He was the complete polar opposite of Rook and it was refreshing.
It had been a week since their first concert and the band was finally getting into the swing of things. They were feeling more comfortable on stage and they were more confident in their songs and abilities. Shattered Souls helped with that, well everyone except Rook. They were always offering advice and walking them through the process of what they did to prepare for a concert. Rook was M.I.A. most of the time, which Maisy tried not to let bother her, but it did.
Luckily, Cruz had been a great distraction. He was a lovable teddy bear. Occasionally, he would pull her to his side on the bus and she would rest her head on his shoulder; it was nice, it was comforting.
They were done recording their album, which was now in the process of being produced. They had to do a photo shoot for the album which would be in-between concerts so they had a jam packed schedule to try to get through. Maisy found it easy to settle her mind by playing music that was just good, toe tapping jams.
Maisy turned off her iPod and said, “Destiny’s child, Bug-a-boo.”
“Classic!” Cruz exclaimed. “They talking about cutting your MCI phone bill and tossing that pager out the window?”
“Don’t you know it.”
Cruz chuckled and put his arm around Maisy. Sh
e settled into his side and basked in the warmth of his body.
He was a very attractive man, she couldn’t help but notice, but she didn’t know if she was really attracted to him or just seeking comfort. Kaid, who Maisy used to spend most of her time with was now best friends with Landon and Willow was usually nowhere to be found, just like Rook. If Maisy didn’t know Willow was head over heels infatuated with Grey, she would have thought Rook and Willow were hooking up somewhere.
“What’s going on baby girl?” Cruz asked while stroking her hair. “It seems like something’s been bothering you.”
Very perceptive, Maisy thought. That thing that was bothering her was most likely brooding in the back of the bus while everyone else was out having fun. Maisy didn’t feel like venturing out with everyone, so she had stayed behind in the bus to clear her mind. Maybe in the back of her mind, she hoped that Rook would make an appearance from his lair, but two hours later, everyone was back and he was still back there alone.
“Nothing really. My mind is just running, thinking about everything that is going on. It’s a lot to handle, you know?”
Cruz squeezed her tight. “It is, but that’s why you have Pete. He can handle everything for you guys. You just need to play like you have been. You guys are so good. I’m kind of jealous sometimes.”
“Ha, alright. You don’t need to blow steam up my ass.”
Cruz made her look him in the eyes. “I’m not lying, Maisy.”
Why did she want to cry? She didn’t want to cry, she refused. She blinked back her tears and said the one thing she wish she didn’t.
“Rook doesn’t seem to think so.”
Cruz sat up and made her look at him again.
“What did he say to you?”
Maisy shrugged her shoulders. “Just that we were decent, nothing special.”
Cruz huffed out a heavy breath and leaned back in the sofa, pulled a pillow on his lap and laid Maisy’s head on the pillow so she was looking up at him as he continued to stroke her hair.
