by West, TJ
Another moment of not knowing what to say. I never expected to make any close friends. June is one of them. I met her not too long ago at a group gathering at Faith’s hotel suite. She confided in me about having a miscarriage with Phillip’s baby, a few months back. She had a really impressive tattoo on her wrist and I asked her about what inspired it. I was so touched and had not expected the story behind it to be about about the baby.
I take a drink of my cocktail and enjoy the rest of the evening with my new friends.
The next two days were not very exciting. With Harmony working all the time, I stay stuck in my rut of “finding myself” again. I should probably make a trip up to LA soon. Ashes and Embers is going to be playing, but I don’t exactly have the money to buy tickets. My bike is in the shop, so all that I have in my savings is just enough to pay for the repair. My sister gives me a decent allowance, but I am feeling more and more guilty taking money from her. Something has to give…I just don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve had plenty of chances to work for Faith and Helene; they have offered me a few jobs that I might be interested in. I always turn them down, though. The dark cloud that hovers over my head never seems to let up. I want to get out from under Harmony’s wing, but my drive to do so is at a turtle’s pace. I know deep down inside the old Melody is still there. I’d do anything to get her back. Singing and playing the guitar is what the old me was all about. Who am I without those two things? I am tired of my depression. I am tired of taking and taking, yet not being able to give back. What I wouldn’t do to be happy again.
Something definitely has to give. My life has to change.
Harm had to take the car to work today, so I had to have the repair shop owner take me home. There was something wrong with the motor; it wasn’t working properly. The owner was actually really cute. I should have asked him up to my place, but a certain rocker with amazing blue eyes wouldn’t allow my subconscious to do so. I was stuck inside the condo by myself. Hmmm, it’s a bit warm outside. The pool seems like the perfect solution of getting myself out of the house.
Before I get the chance to change into my suit my cell rings. I don’t recognize the number. Too bad. I was kinda of hoping it would be Rocker Boy calling to kiss and make up. I answer the call anyways.
"Hey, Mel, it's June."
June? How did she get my number? Oh wait, that’s right, we exchanged numbers the other night. "Oh, hey June.”
“Is this a bad time?"
"No..no of course not. What's up?"
"Would you like to come over to the studio? I ordered lunch, if you're interested in joining me?” Lunch? I’ve never been asked to lunch before. “I mean if you haven't -"
"Yeah, I'd love to!” I immediately say. This totally rocks! “I'll call a cab and be on my way."
"Oh, you don't have a car?"
"No. My bike is in the shop.
"Well, I don't want you wasting your money on a cab. I'll send a driver over to pick you up."
"Sure, that's sounds cool. Thanks."
"No prob. See you soon."
Being driven over to the studio in a limo was definitely the highlight of my morning. I’ve never been in a limo before. It was a sweet ride, but I prefer my motorcycle. I love the feeling of being free; no windows, no doors. There is something about being on a two wheeler, out in the open and speeding down the highway. It’s almost like I am flying.
Walking inside the music studio is a bit overwhelming. How I have dreamed of walking into a place like this, of actually recording my music where there would be nothing other than my voice and guitar. I feel so close to my dream, yet it’s a million light years away. I shake off the slump I’ve put myself into and gaze around at the open entryway of the studio. It has a feel from the 1950’s, with that rocker edge and a twist of today’s world. There is an old fashioned jukebox to my left against a brick wall, surrounded by framed records and pictures of famous artists. Black, leather couches and chairs are set up in front of the jukebox with a deep red carpet underneath. A coffee table with magazines are in the center, giving the waiting area a homey feel. Beyond the waiting area, I believe, is June’s assistant’s desk. The girl doesn’t see me yet. She seems to be busy talking on the phone, so I go back to gazing around. The place is so fucking classy, I want to live here. I slowly walk up to the jukebox and slide my hand over the glass, looking at all the different music. I am so engaged with it, I don’t even hear what’s behind me - not until I hear the one thing that suddenly gets me weak in the knees.
"Sweetness." His voice melts my insides. It immediately makes me wet. We left each other on such bad terms the other day, I want to forget it ever happened, but I am a stubborn person. I hold on to grudges, which is so not cool. I can feel him right behind me. His breath lands on the back of my neck, giving me goosebumps.
I slowly turn around and lean against the jukebox. We are almost nose to nose, lips to lips, he is so close to me. He makes it hard to turn away. "I didn't come here to see you,” my voice cracks. My nerves are getting to me. I need to get back in control. I clear my throat. “June invited me for lunch." His eyes make their way down to my cleavage. I see his lips twitch. He’s trying hard not to smile and be his cocky, gorgeous self. I enjoy his cocky attitude, immensely. Some women might be offended by it, but for some reason it turns me on.
His eyes go back up to mine. "Okay…cool, I guess,” he shrugs.
I know he wants me to say I was there to see him. He seems slightly disappointed. I guess it means he doesn’t let things bother him for very long; he lets go of any anger pretty fast. Unlike me. "I…uh…see ya." I try to move past him, but he keeps me caged up against the jukebox by placing his hands on either side of me. Now we are super close.
"Babe, come on,” he quietly argues.
I can’t control what comes out of my mouth next. He is so hard to turn away. "What's your address? I'll come by later.” His eyes light up, then bites that bottom lip of his. Wetness between my legs. “But not to talk. To play,” I remind him.
"Won't be home till late. We have some publicity shit happening."
"Works for me. Just text me when you get home." Just when I think he’s going to allow me out of his cage, and the second I blink, he dives his tongue inside my mouth. He forces mine to work with his. It’s hot, slow and so very sensual, I can’t help but whimper. I so desperately want to wrap my arms around him, but I keep them to myself - since that’s the only thing I have control over; they stay planted up against the jukebox. He doesn’t touch me either, which turns me on even more so. His hands stay beside me as we continue to kiss. My nipples harden. They’re pressed up against his rock hard chest. I want to strip us both free and be naked with him, but I forget we are in a public room. Without warning, he rapidly unlocks our lips and steps away.
He swipes the edge of his lips with his thumb. "Something to tie me over,” he proudly mentions. So smug. So cocky, so…so insanely hot.
I watch him walk away. He knows I am looking at his tight ass because he grabs it, then squeezes the nice hump. He turns his head and winks at me before he exits the door. I laugh. He is totally crazy and hilarious, I seriously have it so bad for him.
June’s assistant, Monica, looks beet red when she leads me up to June’s office. She doesn’t have to say anything. I know she saw Wayne kissing the hell out of me. My lips still tingle and feel plump.
Once I enter June’s office, I am greeted with a warm hug. "Hi! You made it!"
I’m caught off guard with the hug. I didn’t expect her to welcome me this way. "Thanks for the invite."
"My pleasure. Dig in, have a seat, and make yourself at home." Just like the front part of the studio, June’s office is very retro. She has a nice red leather love seat across from her enormous desk, a white wooden coffee table, with a black and white checkered rug underneath. The rug is so big it covers half the office. As I near the coffee table I notice it has engraved signatures etched into it. Each signature, from what I can tell, is signed by e
ach band member at her company. It’s almost like something you would do to a tree. It’s an awesome table. When I step onto the checkered rug my wedged sandals sink in. It’s extremely soft. Oh. My. God. I place my purse onto the loveseat, then walk over to another table near the office door. It’s arranged with an outstanding array of food, my mouth instantly waters. I am starving. Turkey panini sandwiches, fruit, bottles of water and for dessert she has brownies. Wow, I am in heaven. I pick up a paper plate and pile it with food. June tells me she ordered the food from some place called Al Teatro Panini Grill. She says they are the best panini’s she’s ever had. Boy, she wasn’t kidding. My first bite and I almost died. After making some small talk, June gets into the real reason I am here. “I invited you here to get to know you better. Harmony and I have become great friends. I hope we can too?"
"I'm all up for that, thanks."
June wipes her mouth with a napkin. "I don't want to come off too strong or make you think I'm invading your privacy, but I am really interested in your musical background."
I scoff and shake my head. "Wow….you don't waste any time do you?"
"Is this a touchy subject, because if it is, just tell me to shut up and I will."
June really knows how to put someone in the hot seat. Yet she doesn’t do it with cruel intentions. She’s genuinely a nice person and has a lot spunk. I like her. "With any other person I'd say mind your own fucking business, but no…I won't tell you to shut up,” I slightly chuckle.
"Cool, but I totally get it. Losing my baby was devastating, the hardest thing I have gone through. It was super hard to talk about it in the beginning, but I realized that opening up to close friends and family really helped me heal and move forward.” She puts her plate onto the coffee table, then gets herself comfortable again by resting her legs underneath her behind. “I want you to consider me a close friend, Melody,” she says sincerely. “Your sister is now a part of our family - that includes BT2090. The same goes for you."
I was almost ready to take another bite of my sandwich, but it never touched my mouth. June has made me speechless. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. I am just glad you're here and we can talk. So…tell me about what you did as a musician, what instrument did you play? Or did you just sing?"
Again, she has taken me aback. This whole friendship thing is certainly not what I was expecting. I’m not used to discussing my history with music, but she makes it really easy for me. "I played the acoustic guitar…sang. Indie rock stuff."
"Fantastic!” June exclaims. “I'm a big fan of indie artists. I'm thinking of signing a newbie who also is an indie rocker. Did you write your own songs?"
"Yeah, totally. Had booklets of them growing up." After my injury I wanted nothing to do with those booklets again. I boxed them up and haven’t looked at them since.
"Do you still write?"
"No,” I sadly mention. “That all pretty much dried up years ago."
"Can I ask why?"
I suddenly don’t feel so hungry anymore. I put my plate on the coffee table, then take a drink of my water. It shouldn’t be this hard to explain. "I got injured at work. Did some bartending back in the day. Screwed up my right hand, slicing limes.” I explain to June that I’m ambidextrous: which means I can use either my left or right hand for things. “The nerves that connect to these two fingers," I show June my pinky and ring finger, "got damaged. Our insurance didn't cover therapy, and the fucker who owned the bar couldn't afford to help me either. He left me high and dry. Fled the country. Such a fraud." I shake my head, still bitter about the whole situation.
"Oh, wow. So I assume your right hand is the hand you use the guitar pick with, correct?"
"Unfortunately yes."
"Have you thought about getting therapy for it now? I mean since Harmony gets insurance with the hotel and all."
"Too late. Lost cause,” I shrug.
"It's never too late,” June says, then adds, “Plus you're not a lost cause. I'd actually love to hear you sing sometime."
Ok, what? Now I am getting quite suspicious about my reasons for being here. "What is this?" I ask suspiciously.
"I'm sorry?"
I scowl and feel very uncomfortable, so I snap at her. "What the hell am I really here for?"
June can sense my discomfort. "Like I said…to get to know you better. That's all. If I have stepped on any toes, I apologize,” she places her hand over her chest.
Even though she has apologized I don’t understand why she’s so interested in my non-existent music career. I wonder if this whole meeting was a set up by my sister. "I feel like I'm under some kind of hidden surveillance, or agenda - how to get Melody out of her misery. Did my sister put you up to this?”
"God, no of course not Melody, she didn’t. We have never discussed your past. Honest,” she promises. “Again, I am so sorry. No more discussing music. I promise."
Now I feel like a fool. June is so sweet and honest I don’t know what got into me. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Of course Harmony never discussed my past. That’s something she would never do to me. She knows how it affects me. Poor June. I feel horrible with how I just behaved.
I close my eyes and let out a breath. "Shit…I'm sorry, June. To be honest…music was my whole life. I breathed it, tasted it, slept with it. Lived it. I thought my life was over when I started raising Harmony. Then I realized I could still play and sing in small bars, clubs. My dream wasn't totally over. But once I got hurt…it was. I've been in a slump ever since." I have never opened up to someone like this before. No one, other than Harmony has heard me speak of it. It’s almost like I am telling a story about someone who I used to know. It’s so surreal to me.
June quietly asks, "How long ago was your accident?"
"Five - six years ago, I think?"
"Melody,” June lightly gasps. “Geez, that's a long time."
I breathe out and nod. "Yep."
"Have you thought about just singing?"
I laugh with no humor to follow. "Many times."
"My suggestion still stands. I'd be honored to hear you sing, if you ever feel you want to try to get back into it. No pressure. I promise."
I totally believe June. She is genuinely sincere and really means what she is saying. Could this be it? Could this be my chance at getting my dream back? Right in front of me is a woman who owns her own music label. She’s the real deal and wants to hear me sing. ME. I am so scared, but I give her an answer anyways. "I'll think about it." That’s all I can say for now. It’s a lot to take in. Plus I really do need to think long and hard about her request. It’s an old wound that I’m not so sure is ready to be worked on again. Only time will tell.
“SHIT, MAN, WE’VE BEEN GOING nonstop ever since we got home from touring. I am fucking beat,” I exasperate. We had a ton of publicity shoots today. One of them was going to Miramar Military Base. We put on a small concert for the families that live on base. It was awesome, and we had a blast doing it for them. After the concert we had a signing with the fans and a few interviews with the local news. Before that we were at the studio working on some new material.
Slim and I walk into our new home we bought together just recently, in Point Loma. One story house with three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a large den, full on max kitchen with all the stainless steel appliances, quartz counters, amazing living room, and an awesome backyard. We’re only four blocks from the beach, which pretty much sealed the deal for the two of us. At first we thought about not owning a home together, but since we’re on the road a lot, what is the use of two homes when no one is living there half the time? Plus we dig being roomies. I’m sure someday we’ll live separately, but for now it works. We have barely unpacked yet, but at least we have installed our big flat screen TV and mounted it on the wall and and got our video game system set up. We even have a new set of black leather recliners and a couch. Nothing like the smell of new leather.
I kick off my shoes, then
lay on the couch, exhausted.
“I hear ya bro. Need a beer?” Slim asks.
I toss the beanie from my head, onto the floor and close my eyes. “That and a good lay,” I breathe out, crossing my arms over my chest. Before we walked into the house I texted Melody letting her know I was home. Seeing her today, after the shitty way she treated me the other day, got me riled up for her again. I was definitely not happy with her attitude, how she shut down and made me feel like an asshole. Yet, I’m not one to let things get to me for too long. Something is going on with her and I, for some odd reason, want to be the one to help her. I’m loving my attraction for her; my feelings run really deep, yet at the same time she drives me crazy.
“Speaking of. You serious about Harmony’s sister? Never thought you’d actually be tied by the dick to anyone.”
“Don’t know, Slim.” He taps me on the shoulder with my beer. “Thanks.” I take the beer and sit up. Slim settles himself onto one of the recliners and pops up the chair to rest his feet. I take a guzzle of my beer. “Don’t know what it is about her. She keeps me on my toes - a challenge. I like it. But then again, she frustrates me.”
“Part of the challenge, I guess?”
“Maybe,” I shrug. “Never saw myself falling for anyone this quickly so early in our career, though. I wanted to have years of fun before I thought about getting serious.”
“Seems to be working for Lucky and Faith. Now Danny and Harmony.” Lucky is our lead singer in the band. He and Faith have a huge history between the two of them. They were an item many years ago; she came from a wealthy family, a father who was a total douchebag. He owned a construction company, Montgomery Construction. It just so happened that Lucky worked there. Faith’s dad hated Lucky dating his daughter and tore those two up by blackmailing Lucky, offering to give him one million dollars to leave Faith and the state of Arizona. Lucky came from a drug addicted mom, he felt trapped. His mom later died of an overdose, years after. Faith’s dad was going to expose Lucky’s life to the media if he didn’t take the money. He wanted to destroy his career. Unfortunately Lucky pretended he took the money, but really he just ran with Danny, his best friend to San Diego and never spent a cent. A few years passed, Lucky and Faith met up again through June - BT2090. Turns out June and Faith are best friends, so with everyone being all six degrees of separation and shit, there was no getting away from reuniting the two of them. Things worked out between them, they’re practically engaged. We’re just waiting…that will happen next.
