Amped

by Teagan Kade

  The audience coos in sympathy, the tension lifting just a little, but Rick remains smirking there like the snaky cocksucker he is.

  Delaney turns to me, but I’m not ready. “We’re a bit off-topic, but Mat, what do you have to say to that? What’s your comment on your father’s death and the tragic loss of that family?”

  I know their names off my heart—John, Lucinda and Lucy, just three.

  Delaney’s planned this, or her producers. I’m being cornered, but I refuse to be boxed out by these two. They want me to arc up, to explode, but they’re not going to get it. I think of Sel watching, Dom, who begged me not to do this. I’m not going to let them down.

  I inhale, pretend I’m stewing it over. “My father was human. He had flaws. Sadly, they caused the death of that family… but, I am not my father, and frankly I don’t think his death is relevant at all here. We’re here to talk about his music, are we not? Music that—” now I point “—this man is claiming as Alice Garcia’s to further himself.”

  The crowd starts to get behind me. The producer is talking to someone frantically on his headset. We’re off script here. I hear Delaney’s ear piece buzzing.

  “But don’t you think Rick has a point, Mat?”

  Has a point?! Can this idiot even hear the words coming out of her stupid, fucking mouth?

  Get back on point, I remind myself.

  I lean back and breathe. You are calm personified, a fucking ocean. “All I can hope is that Dad’s songs live on and inspire in spite of how he left this world. That’s what I’m trying to do here, with Selena. We’re building on his legacy, making it our own. His songs mean a lot to a lot of people and I’m damn sure not about let somebody else take credit for his work.”

  I see Delaney wants to let Rick get a word in, but the producer is waving her arms frantically to signal her to wrap up, the clock on the ceiling spelling out we’re overdue for an ad break.

  The moment the ‘live’ sign goes off, I pull off my lapel mic and throw it into Delaney’s lap. I get right up in her ugly critter of a face. I’m trying to think straight, but the anger’s taking over. “Fuck you,” I tell her, shifting to point at Rick. “And fuck you.”

  A security guard steps forward, but I’m already on my way out.

  Rick remains silent.

  I spin around and call to him before I walk off stage. “If you want to settle this like a real man, I’ll be in the parking lot.”

  He never shows.

  On the way home I go through what I said over and over, breaking it down and reconstructing it, thinking about how I could have handled the situation better. I should have known better. I should have known these kinds of shows are about perception, not facts. I would have had better luck rocking up to Judge Judy.

  The only thing I come to realize is that Sel and Dom were right. I should have stayed at home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  SELENA

  It’s the day of the festival and still the White House feels like Elsa’s ice castle. We’ve barely spoken since Mat’s interview with Delaney. I’m trying hold my tongue, bite back the ‘told you so’ that wells up inside me every time I see him.

  So we bury ourselves in rehearsal. I’ve never practiced so much in my life, and yet we’re a long way from perfection. Not even close. Just remembering all these new lyrics is proving taxing enough without having to worry about seeing Rick and Alice again, nailing what could be the most important performance of my career.

  Our career, my head amends, adding Mat to the equation. Maybe I am being too hard on him. He had the right intentions. The interview wasn’t the train wreck it could have been, though I’m going to make sure Delaney pays one way or another for setting Mat up like that.

  I know a solid performance at Magma will be the best revenge, for everyone on my black list, but first we’ve got to get there. The hired van I’m staring at doesn’t look like it will make out the front gate, completely at odds with the palatial structure of the White House behind it.

  Mat tosses the keys in his hands. “I know it’s not much to look at it, but it’s all I could get on such short notice and within our budget.”

  We were so caught up in festival preparation we forgot the most important thing—how to actually get there. Thus the late-minute chariot. It seems like we’re both lacking mental acuity of late. “You couldn’t find anything from this century?”

  Mat’s head goes from side to side slowly. “You know as well as I do most of our cash went to copyrighting those songs. I had to drill down the guy as it was.”

  I take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. “All right. Let’s load this thing up. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

  *

  It’s like a tomb as we drive, the silence deafening once more.

  Mat leans forward over the steering wheel and looks up at the sky. “Might be a bit of turbulence ahead.”

  I can’t take it a second longer. “Why’d you do it, Mat? Both Dom and I told you it was a bad idea.”

  He sits back, straightening his arms and watching the road. “If I had known Rick was going to be there, I still would have gone.”

  I look out the side window, green ribbons of forest blurring by. “You’re stubborn, just like Mason.”

  “I won’t argue with that, but what I did was right. Was it smart? Okay, probably not, but since when has intelligence been part of the Barton genetic make-up?”

  “You’re more intelligent than you give yourself credit for, but you’re impulsive, Mat. You always have been.”

  “And you think that’s a bad thing? I thought you liked my passion, my verve for life?”

  “That’s different.”

  He looks at me now. “Is it?

  “If we’re going to be together, we have to be a unified front on these things. What use is discussion if you’re just going to run off and do your own thing anyway?”

  Mat’s never liked being told off, and I don’t like sounding like a parent, but the words are coming out and I cannot stop them. “Why did you go off? Really? Was it to get away from me, from life?”

  “We’re talking about the tour now? You know that’s not what it was about.”

  “You wanted to have your fill of groupies and wild sex before settling down. Is that it?”

  He thuds the wheel with the palm of his hand in frustration. “That’s not fair.”

  “I think it’s an extremely reasonable assumption.” A gulf is opening up between us in this tiny cabin. I’m starting to lose any hope of it closing back over, yet I press on, venomous. “How many women did you sleep with while you were on your supposed tour? Ten, twenty, a hundred?”

  He’s shaking his head. “Selena, stop.”

  “No. I deserve to know these things.”

  “What difference is it going to make?” he spits back. “I want to be with you. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know if it’s enough.”

  My words hang there while the road stretches on.

  There’s a loud bang from the driver’s side. I grip the door handle, the van swerving onto the shoulder.

  I look to Mat wide-eyed. “What was that?”

  It starts to rain outside, droplets of water beading on the windshield. “Flat tire… I hope.”

  I can’t shake the cloud of bad luck that seems to be closing in as we get out of the van and inspect the damage.

  The rain turns into a full-blown shower.

  I hold a paper over my head squatting down next to Mat by the roadside, semi-trailers streaming past and drenching us periodically.

  Mat runs his hands over the tire. “It’s more than flat. It’s shredded.” He stands and kicks it, shouting to the heavens. “Come on!”

  “But we’ve got a spare right?”

  He shakes his head. “I ditched it to fit our gear. It was fifty years old, anyhow.”

  I try to stop the panic that wants to burst from within me, that wants to turn me into one of those wailing
maniacs you see on the side of the highway.

  I wipe water from my eyes and take out my cell, my lifeline. I’m expecting no signal, just to add to our woes, but there’s a bar or two, enough to get a call out to Dom. He takes the information down and says he’ll call back.

  “It’s no good standing out here in the rain.” I take Mat’s arm and tug him back inside the cabin. The windows fog up with our breath and Mat’s just as soaked as I am, both of us shivering there, and it strikes me that this is the lowest of the low—this is the life of a musician.

  It would make a great song.

  Stuck in the middle of nowhere, yip-de-doo.

  What, what the fuck are we going to do?

  Going nowhere down this road fast

  Heading to the festival to kiss some ass.

  I laugh at myself. Mat seizes on it, holding me around the shoulders and tucking me into his side. “You want to write a song about it, don’t you?”

  Mason used to be able to read my thoughts. Maybe telekinesis runs in the family. “Maybe. What are you thinking about right now?”

  Mat narrows my eyes in concentration. “A hot shower, you, naked, rubbing up against me.”

  “Sounds tempting.”

  My cell rings. It’s Dom calling to say he’s arranged a tow truck to take us to a garage another twenty miles on. The owner there thinks he can help us out.

  I thank him enthusiastically and end the call. “Strap on your happy face. Things are looking up.”

  Neither the tow truck or the new tire come cheap. By the end of it we’re out almost five-hundred bucks. I can see Mat wanted to argue it out with the garage owner, but we simply didn’t have the time.

  Eight hours, one pit-stop, and two stale Twinkies later, we arrive at the festival, but it takes another half hour for our names to be cleared and the van to be let through.

  By the time we find Arthur at the back of the main stage, we look like we’re fresh from a bog.

  He looks us over. “What the hell’s with the get-up? This isn’t part of your act, is it? A new look?”

  We shake our heads in unison. “You wouldn’t believe the run of bad luck we’ve just had.”

  He looks away and bites his lower lip, exhaling. “Look, I’ll be honest. I might have to take you off the lineup.”

  The hits just keep on coming.

  “The hell?” says Mat, defensive. “We just drove fifteen hours straight, lost five-hundred bucks for some shitty, overpriced band of rubber and you’re telling us we’re not even going to get to play?”

  “Easy, son. I said might. I’m on your side, but that talk show stunt the other day? It didn’t go down well with my investors.” He huffs again.

  The damn show again.

  Mat seems confused. “The show? That’s what this is about. I had to tell my side of the story.”

  “It came across desperate.”

  “Okay. Enough. Are we playing or not?”

  Arthur shakes his head. “I’m doing my best, but at the moment I just don’t know.”

  Mat can’t control himself. “What the fuck does that mean?” he shouts.

  He’s not helping the situation, but he shrugs me off when I try to pull him away. “No, Sel. This isn’t fair.”

  Arthurs’s already walking off. “I’ve got a sound check to get to.”

  Mat stands there shaking his head as the rain starts up again. He slams his foot down into a puddle. “Motherfucker.”

  “It’s not his fault, Mat. Like he said, he’s on our side. He has been from the start. Otherwise we wouldn’t even be here.”

  Mat nods, takes it in, but his anger hasn’t dissipated.

  “Come on. Let’s go to the van, get our gear, and get settled in. I don’t know about you, but I could do with a shower. I don’t exactly want to perform looking like a member of Slipknot.”

  When we arrive back at the spot we parked the van, I’m the first to notice the side door is ajar. I point. “Mat.”

  “No.” He runs to the door and slides it wide.

  It’s gone. All of it, all our clothes, gear, instruments.

  I have to look twice to make sure I’m not seeing things, but there’s no other explanation. We’ve been robbed.

  I start laughing. I don’t know why. I slump into the mud, laughing and crying and shaking my head.

  Mat slams the side of the van over the over. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

  I stop laughing when the realization sinks in we’re not going to get to perform. This is a clear sign the universe is against it. It’s been trying to tell us to go home all day.

  All those hours we put in practicing and going over Mason’s old notes, reworking his songs—countless choruses and versus, new bridges and harmonies. We had gold. I know we did.

  And no one’s going to hear it.

  Mat eventually puts his back to the van and falls to the ground with me. “What next? What fucking next?”

  Half an hour later Mat is talking a security guard through it.

  Mat’s quiet now, calm. Maybe he’s simply out of energy, but the more I think about what we lost, the more the anxiety and panic grow until I can’t take it anymore. It’s too much.

  “I— I have to go.” I turn and start running. I don’t know where I’m going only that I want to get as far away from this place as possible.

  Both Mat and the security guard he’s talking to call out, but I’m already headed away, my legs pumping and my heart thudding along with every step.

  I can barely see where I’m going the tears flow so thick, but I keep running until I’m standing in the middle of the woods and its deathly quiet. There, I fall to my knees and curse at the sky through the cross-hatch of canopy above. “Why?” I scream “Why?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  MAT

  Sel’s screaming sends birds scattering overhead. I’ve seen her low before—when her parents were going to get a divorce, when she broke up with her first boyfriend, got her first zit—but this is something else. My Selena, my fighter, La Princesa, has been defeated.

  I crouch down beside her in the dirt. It’s wet and cold, but I don’t give a shit right now. I pull her into my body, her wracking sobs reverberating through me. It tears me up seeing her like this, so lost.

  “I can’t handle it, Mat,” she mutters, speaking through her tears, sniffing back more. “I can’t handle it.”

  I hold her away, grasping her shoulders with my hands and looking deep into her eyes that even wet glow like hot honey. “Do you really want to know why I came back home, Sel?”

  She continues to sob against me.

  She needs to know. I’ve been keeping it to myself for too long.

  “I came back,” I start. “Not to revive Dad’s legacy, if you can even call it that now, not to live the life he led, but to fix all the things I regretted leaving behind, like Mom… and you.”

  She looks up. “Like me?”

  “You’re all I thought about when I was away, Sel. I’d be in these incredible locations and there’d be something missing, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but it was you. It has always been you. And now I have you, I’m never going to let you go.” I point back in the direction of the festival. “All this, everything that’s happening to us? It’s nothing. We can deal with it like we’ve dealt with everything else our entire lives, but now we’re in it together. You’re not alone, Sel.”

  I see her frustration subsiding. It gives way to something new. We both recognize it, the sounds and smells of the forest driving us towards primal instincts, this whirlwind of emotion dragging us under.

  I kiss her, the passion spilling over, my hand at the back of her neck pulling her into me.

  She kneels up and holds the side of my face, her tongue hot in my mouth against the cool clime around us, the soft pillow of her chest pressed against mine.

  We break apart for breath, panting warm clouds into the no man’s land between us, our foreheads pressed together and a final tear falling from her che
ek.

  “Take me,” she whispers, the desperation clear, ripe.

  I can’t move fast enough. I drop and unzip my trousers, pulling them to my knees as I fall to the ground and take in this goddess.

  Sel’s breathing hard, looking at me as I pull her over me.

  My cock stands rigid between us. She grasps it, her silky fingers looping around my shaft and slowly jerking me off.

  I pull the top of her dress down and kiss each nipple, covering her dimpled areolae with my tongue. Even her skin tastes different, her perspiration fresh on the tip of my tongue as I work it around the stiff peaks. I suck on them, pulling them into my mouth hard, filling my face with her breast.

  There’s a pained look on her face as she pulls the crotch of her panties aside and guides my aching cock between her legs, pressing it against the opening to her wetness.

  “I want you inside me,” she says.

  I groan as drive upwards. Her pussy is tight, a slick, hot tunnel that clamps my cock exquisitely.

  I fall back and drive up again, filling her with my manhood.

  I hear voices. They might be close, but I don’t care, completely consumed in the act.

  My hand moves from breast to breast. I kiss her, fucking her mouth with my tongue while we rock back and forth in the dirt and earth, the smell of pine all around us.

  I break us apart, gasping for air. In front of me Sel is a picture of perfection. Her face is flushed. Damp strands of her hair, sticking to her face. She’s dirty, wet, but I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.

  It doesn’t take long.

  She cries aloud.

  Her sailing voice draws me over the edge.

  She clenches around me, palpitating. I can feel her very heartbeat hammering through her body. The need builds. My balls swell. In at the point of no return.

  My head whips back and forth in the dirt as I come, hilting myself inside her, pressing so deep the wisps of hair around the root of my cock are flat against her. I cry out and close my eyes, no end to my release.

  When I open my eyes, she’s looking down at me, her face a rapturous mix of emotion.

  Finally my spine straightens and I relax back onto the earth empty and drained while she continues to shudder and convulse.