by M. S. Parker
“Like leaving Hazel behind?” I filled in.
Dave grinned wryly. “Your words, not mine.”
A silent moment passed between us. Not awkward, not tense, just silent. We watched each other appraisingly, as if taking stock of the person across from us and who they had become.
Finally, I smiled at my brother.
“It's nice to have you back.”
The next morning, just before ten a.m., I arrived outside of Hazel's photography studio.
It was closed.
I wrenched on the door a couple times, thinking maybe the door was just a bit sticky. Nope, locked tight.
With nothing else to do, I decided to hang around outside and wait for a bit to see if she showed up. The street was quiet and few people noticed me as I leaned against the brick wall in the sunshine and smoked a cigarette. Then another.
After half an hour, when it was clear I wasn't going to run into Hazel anytime soon, I decided to go grab some food at the Thai place down the street. Part of this was because I'd heard amazing things about it from Hazel, but most of the reason was because I was hoping to run into her. Apparently, she grabbed lunch there as often as possible when she was working, something she'd revealed to me on tour and said she'd missed.
At first glance, I thought the Thai place was a bust. No Hazel. I walked up to the front counter to place a to-go order, figuring I'd at least get some lunch out of this failed endeavor, when I noticed the little redhead at one of the tables by the window.
It was Hazel's friend, Cora.
I removed my hat and sunglasses as I strolled over to her table, painting on one of my most charming smiles. This girl was a huge Flagship Inferno fan, so getting her to give me Hazel's number would be easy.
Cora's hazel eyes snapped on me as I walked up and sank down into the seat across from her. Her mouth deepened into a scowl.
“Look who it is. The great Sean Morris,” she said bitterly. “For his last trick, he disappeared into thin air. What will he do today? Pull a rabbit from his cowardly asshole?”
Right. How could I forget? Cora was a huge Flagship Inferno fan, sure, but she was also a stone-cold bitch when she wanted to be.
“I was thinking I'd start by buying you lunch,” I replied. “I prefer to perform more complicated magic for people I'm sure aren't likely to rip my balls off.”
This earned me a tiny smile.
“Alright, fine.” Cora shoved her menu in front of me. “Choose quickly though. I'm hungry.”
We didn't talk again until after we finished placing our orders. The moment the waiter disappeared, she was on me.
“What the hell is your problem? Did I not tell you that if you hurt her, I was going to hurt you? Or did you just come here to make my job easier for me?”
I smiled. “I came here looking for Hazel, actually.”
“And you got me instead? That's a bad day.”
“Maybe not.” I sighed, leaning back against the chair. “To be honest, I've been wondering all day whether coming to find her is the right thing to do.”
If Cora was surprised by my honesty, she didn't show it. Which was funny considering even I was a little surprised to admit something so personal to this woman, who was essentially a complete stranger.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
The couple at the table beside us glanced over in alarm. Cora clearly didn't care.
“Hazel is the sun and the moon, Rock Star. She's what people have been writing love songs about for thousands of years. You should feel absolutely honored to have had a chance with her in the first place, especially after all the shit you put her through.”
“My point exactly.” I smiled bitterly. “She's too good for me. I'll just hurt her in the end.”
“With an attitude like that, of course you will!” Cora chastised. “But if there's anyone worth becoming a better man for, it's Hazel. And she seems to think you've got the potential to be a better man. Me? I'm not so sure.”
“Of course I can be a better man,” I snapped. “I'd do anything for her.”
A smug smile slid lazily over Cora's lips. She was good at this. I didn't know what her love life was like, but I had no doubt that any man wanting to get in the ring with her would have to put up one hell of a fight.
“Alright, fine.” I sighed. “You're right. I'd be stupid to give her up, and I can and will be better for her. Once you give me her number, I'll start making what I did up to her in a big way.”
Cora let out a bark of laughter, once again alarming the poor couple next to us. “Oh, Sean. I can't do that.”
“What?”
“I can’t give you her number.”
I blinked. Cora's expression never wavered.
“You're not going to give me her number?” I asked. “But I thought–”
“And you thought correctly,” she said. “But Hazel deserves better, right? That's the theme of this lunch. You've got to do this the old-fashioned way. The hard way.” Her lips curled into a devious smile. “All I can tell you is that Hazel got a new gig.”
“If you didn't care about your friend so much, I'd wonder if you were a psychopath,” I said, only half-joking.
“And if you didn't care about my friend so much, you'd quickly learn that I am a psychopath.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Just trust me on this one. The things that come the hardest, are the things that teach us what's important.” She grabbed the drink menu from the middle of the table and began leafing through it. “Do you think they have Patrón? I’m about to get the most expensive margarita the world has ever seen.”
Forty-Nine
Hazel
One of the things I'd learned on tour with Flagship Inferno was that snacks and reading material were invaluable commodities. And since there was bound to be less partying and more downtime on tour with Vixen Vendetta, these road staples were more important than ever.
Our convoy was leaving Seattle in an hour, so I'd nipped over to the convenience store across the street to stock up on Smarties, Vitamin Water, and trashy romance novels. I was just thinking about how amused Cora would be when I told her the cringe-worthy title of my newest read when a tabloid on the top shelf caught my eye.
Where is Sean? Mid-tour overdose scandal...Tell all inside!
The photo was of a disheveled looking Sean leaving the tour bus, somewhere on the first leg of the tour, if I was correct. He'd undoubtedly just finished partying for the night and was stepping outside to have a cigarette or something. In any case, the photo wasn't recent. How could it be? There was no mid-tour overdose scandal. I didn't know why he left, but I knew it wasn't because of that.
But even though I knew the picture and the headline were bullshit, it still made me worry. I wondered how he was doing. How his brother was doing. I wondered if he was wondering about me.
But he made his decision, right? The last thing I needed was to spend my days worrying after a man who clearly wanted nothing to do with me. I had a new job and a new purpose now. I shouldn't be worrying about Sean Morris.
I paid for my things and headed back to my new trailer, settling in with my book. Naturally, the worrying didn't go away. Though I'd tried to push it to the back corner of my mind, it infected the rest of my brain little by little, spreading until I couldn't think about anything else. I could still feel the ache in my chest from when he left the tour. From when he left me. And though I hurt, now it was from worry as well as pain.
Fucking hell. I was trapped in a rattling metal box for the next few hours alone with my thoughts. If I didn't do something about it, it was going to be torture.
With that in mind, I called up Brad.
“You know you're not one of my clients,” he answered. “Just because you have my phone number doesn't mean you can use it like you pay me.”
I couldn't help but laugh. “Nice to talk to you too, Brad. I won't waste any more of your precious time than I have to. I was actually looking for a way to get in touch with Justin?”
I'd a
lready tried asking Brad once before if he knew anything about Sean's whereabouts. It was an unpleasant enough experience to never try again.
“Justin, eh?” He chuckled. “Yeah, I've got his number. You know I can't give it to you though.”
“Oh, come on, Brad,” I wheedled. “What's one favor? I'm not going to sell it to anyone. I just need to talk to him a little.”
Brad was silent for a moment. Deliberating.
“Isn't it favor enough I got you two amazing jobs?” he grumbled.
I smirked. “You said yourself my talent is what got me where I am today. I thought you were a straight shooter?”
“Fuck. Fine. If this gets back to me, I'll make sure you never work in the industry again.”
I laughed. “Love you too.”
I dialed the number Brad gave me, and Justin's deep voice picked up. “Hello?”
“Hey, Justin. It's Hazel.”
Silence.
“You know? I was your tour photographer?”
“Is this some kind of fucking joke?” he growled.
I could already tell this was going to go swimmingly.
“I know you don't like me, so I won't waste your time. I just wanted to know if any of you guys had heard from Sean recently?”
Justin’s laugh was cruel. “You've got some fuckin' balls on you. No. Nobody's heard from Sean, and we won't ever hear from him again. Good fucking riddance. As for you, never call me again. Understand?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Good.”
Click.
I pulled away to see he had indeed hung up on me. Great. It was strange to be hated so intensely by somebody I barely even knew. I guess in the end I broke the band up, so I couldn't blame him for having that kind of reaction. I mean, he could have stood to be a little more polite considering I'd never personally done anything to insult him, but I'd take it.
I'd been battling with my guilt about what happened to Flagship Inferno a lot over the past month. My conversation with Justin only served to prove what I'd already figured – the band was no more, and it was at least in part because of me.
But what was the point of feeling guilty for something I hadn't been aware I was doing? Was it my fault the band's image relied so heavily on their sexy lead singer partying like an animal and sleeping with every groupie tossed his way? Not at all. And anyway, if Sean didn't want to be like that anymore, more power to him. I didn't know what he was doing right now, but I hoped he was happier than he had been as the frontman of Flagship Inferno.
Fifty
Sean
I told Dave about my lunch with Cora. He thought it was hilarious.
“That girl sounds like something else,” he said, laughing. “I would've paid good money to see her school you like that.”
“Not helping,” I said through gritted teeth. “You're supposed to be helping me figure out how to get in contact with Hazel. I don't' have a number. I don't have an address, I've got nothing except some trite assurance that working hard to find her will be more rewarding in the end.”
This sent Dave into another fit of laughter. Even though he was laughing at me, it was nice to see him laugh at all.
We were out on my patio, staring out over the tops of the pines sloping away from my mansion. The violet sky overhead was free of clouds, save for a couple wisps here and there. All in all, it was a beautiful, peaceful day.
But there was a storm raging in my heart.
I had to find her. Now that I'd decided I wanted her, I realized I needed her. And I wasn't above going back to Cora and buying the answer out of her somehow. I suspected it wouldn't go well for me, but fuck, I'd give it a shot if no other solution presented itself.
“What about your manager?” Dave asked. “If she's got some other gig, it might have something to do with him.”
I grimaced. “He's not going to help me. He hates me.”
“You just don't want to call him because of how you two left things.” Dave smirked.
“You make it sound like we had a lover's quarrel,” I said, disgusted. “I screwed him over in a major way. He'd be more likely to scream insults at me until I hung up than he would be to help me find Hazel.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
I scowled and reached for my phone. Dave laughed.
Two rings later, Brad answered the phone. “I better be having a fucking nightmare,” he growled. “I can't think of any other reason why your name would be showing up on my caller ID.”
“I probably deserved that.”
“Probably?” Brad scoffed. “You probably deserve a steel pipe to the face. I am done with you, Sean. If you've called to come crawling back, you're shit outta luck. You can find a new manager. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” I replied. “But that's not why I'm calling.”
“Oh, what now? You want a favor or something?”
I took a deep breath. “I just want to know if you know how I can get in contact with Hazel.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Finally, Brad groaned. “Leave it alone, Rock Star. You did a number on that poor girl. Move on. Find another bit of pussy to tank your career over and leave this one be. I'll ruin her career if I hand her over to you, and that's just not on my agenda for today.”
Brad must really like Hazel if he was looking after her this much. I would’ve thought it was cute if I wasn’t so frustrated.
“I didn't tank my career over a bit of pussy,” I growled. “I left the tour to take care of my brother.”
“Huh.” Brad sounded genuinely surprised. “That's great, Sean. Glad you finally figured out what's important. Bully for you. But if you don't mind, I've got new clients to meet with. New clients who are worth my goddamn time.”
The line went dead in my hand.
I'd been trying to stay civil for the sake of the phone call, but this dead end made me more frustrated than ever. Without thinking, I slammed my phone down hard on the stone table next to me. The screen crunched on impact.
Fifty-One
Hazel
Taking fan photos with Jasmine was a much different experience than it had been with Flagship Inferno. For one thing, the fans were a lot more respectful of her personal space. They also seemed, for the most part, to be there for her music, not just to soak in the culture of debauchery and try to hook up with one of the band members.
I watched Jasmine through my lens, still not totally sure what I thought of her. There were a lot of things I liked about her, like how direct and honest she was, and of course, I was grateful for her inviting me on tour with her. But I guess part of me still wondered what her angle was. Why would Sean's ex-girlfriend show such an interest in me? What could she hope to gain?
I handed the last fan her phone and security sent her on her way. I started packing up my stuff, ready to head back to my trailer for a little bit of R&R, when Jasmine walked over to me.
“What are you doing after this?” she asked.
The question surprised me.
“Nothing,” I admitted. “I finished my book and haven't gone out to get a new one yet.”
“Come have a drink with me on the bus,” she said. “I could use a little company.”
I agreed, letting her lead me out to the sleek black bus she had all to herself. The rest of the band were contractors, with Jasmine being the main star. From what I understood, she'd only just met them, and they weren't friends. It seemed lonely.
Her bus was smaller than Flagship Inferno's had been, and not as nice, but it was at least cleaner. It didn't have the same lingering cigarette smell, though I wasn't surprised when Jasmine sank down onto one of the couches and lit up a joint.
“You smoke?” she asked, offering it to me after a couple puffs.
I shook my head. “'Fraid not.”
She shrugged. “More for me, I guess. Want a beer?”
“Sure.”
Jasmine grabbed two beers from the mini fridge and popped the caps off before handing one to
me. She took her seat again and stared at me intently. Studied me.
I started to feel a bit nervous. Why did she invite me here? Was this the part where she went full-on crazy ex and started tearing my hair out?
But Jasmine's intelligent expression never deepened into one of anger or hatred. She took another puff of her joint and leaned toward me, licking her lips.
“You fell for him.”
It wasn't a question or an accusation. Just a statement, neutral as neutral could be.
When I didn't immediately respond, Jasmine's lips curved in a sad smile and she leaned back again. “I did warn you, didn't I? But then again, boys like that wouldn't be so fun if they didn't come with a warning or two. How are you doing?”
“Better now,” I replied. “The whole thing was a bit of a shock to the system, having the tour just end like that...”
“Right.” Jasmine took another deep inhale, coughing a little afterward. “The abrupt end of the tour was a shock. Just that.”
“Are you going to make me outright say it?” I muttered.
Jasmine laughed. “I wouldn't have to make you say anything if you were more honest with yourself.”
For some reason, that struck a chord with me. I knew my feelings for Sean ran deep, but I hadn't investigated to see how deep. I'd been doing my damnedest not to think about it.
“But why would it matter if I were honest or not?” I challenged. “It won't change the way things happened. It won't bring him back.”
“Maybe not,” she said, shrugging. “But what do you stand to lose from just admitting it?”
I snorted. “I dunno. My sanity?”
“Girl, your sanity was a goner the moment you started falling for a guy who can't love.”
And this was exactly why I couldn't figure out how I felt about Jasmine. She was so nice to me sometimes, but then she'd come out with shit like that. I knew Sean could love. It was an indisputable truth.
