Fever

by Carnal, MJ

  “So, this is the studio,” I said, flipping on the light switch and letting everyone walk in before me.

  “Nice digs,” Drew commented. He sounded like Shaggy from Scooby Doo. He kind of looked like him too.

  I nodded my agreement. “Yep. There’s only one booth, but the system is the best of the best.”

  After a while of standing around awkwardly, everyone took a seat. Ryan and I were on one of the black couches, Nina and Drew on another, and Shea sat on the seat directly in front of me. We made small talk about normal things like school. Drew and Shea both went to a local public school I was familiar with, mainly because I’d heard horrible things about the fights there. Anytime I’d been around kids that went to worse schools than mine, I felt weird talking about my own sheltered upbringing. I knew sheltered wasn’t the way most people described my crazy life. They threw around poor little rich girl, whenever I complained about my parents never being home or having time to talk to me. Poor little rich girl was right, though. I wasn’t blind to everything I had at my fingertips. I had everything a newly sixteen-year-old girl could possibly want, and everything I didn’t need.

  The only thing that kept me from being completely reckless was my own conscience, which Nina hated. “Where’d you learn to be so responsible, anyway?” she’d ask when she was pissed that I didn’t go along with her getting drunk and sneaking out of the house schemes. She always wanted to sneak out of her house, which I hated. She had a good mother, an attentive one, one that set rules and boundaries for her. I didn’t have to sneak out of my house. I could walk out the front door at two in the morning and nobody would stop me or care to ask me where I was going. Maybe my dad or Hendrix would if they were home, but they weren’t. So again, poor little rich girl with a closet full of purses and shoes and nobody to give a shit about what she does with her life.

  Shea took out a little bowl and started packing it with marijuana. I’d seen every drug in the drug pyramid by that time, so I knew what it was even though I’d never tried it. Ryan was into that kind of stuff, he would smoke with some other friends, but he never wanted me around it. His hand squeezed mine when he saw where it was going. He knew Shea would offer it to me, and he knew I was already caught up in impressing him so I would take it and try it. I shrugged and let go of his hand, taking the bowl in my hand when Shea handed it to me.

  “You sure you wanna do that?” Ryan asked.

  I looked over at him, his green eyes worried, and I shrugged. “Why not? You do it all the time. How bad can it be?”

  Ryan shrugged back. “It’s not like drinking though.”

  I didn’t care. The only reason I got drunk was to escape my own mind for a while. This was just another form of escape. I put it up to my lips and smiled at Shea, waiting for him to light it for me.

  “First time, huh?” Shea asked playfully. His muddy green eyes were looking at me with so much interest, I wanted to take the bowl away from my lips and just kiss him.

  “Yep,” I said coyly.

  “Oh, hurry up, Bee, puff-puff pass already,” Nina whined.

  I rolled my eyes and Shea laughed, shaking his head at her as he lit up the green grass for me and signaled for me to inhale. And I did. I inhaled and reveled in the burn it left in my throat. I let out the air, going into a coughing fit because I clearly took too much in. I had no clue what I was doing and it wasn’t properly explained to me. I passed the bowl. It came around two more times before I started to finally feel the effects of it. My eyes began to feel heavy, and my smile was a little wider on my face now. I was laughing at every single stupid thing anybody said. Even Drew was hilarious to me at that point.

  As the night went on, somebody suggested we go into the house and watch Dumb & Dumber in our built-in movie theatre, so we did. I numbly led the way into the house, clutching on to Shea’s arm along the way so I could take off my shoes. He steadied me with his firm hold. He wasn’t strong looking with defined muscles, but I could tell he wasn’t a vegetable either. Later that night he told me he surfed sometimes, like a good California boy. I loved that he did. I made him promise he would take me surfing one day.

  I’d seen Dumb & Dumber once before, it was one of Hendrix’s favorite movies. I hated it the first time I saw it. Hated it. But that time, with Shea’s arm around me and my head feeling so light—like a balloon, like a kite—I thought Dumb & Dumber was a classic. I’m pretty sure I even went as far as saying it should’ve been nominated for an Oscar. Really.

  When the high was wearing down, Drew took out yet another little packet. This one was white powder. And again, something I had seen before but never touched. Neither Ryan nor Nina had done it either, so we were all curious enough about it. I decided that day that I would try everything once. In hindsight, I wish I hadn’t tried any of it. I wish I could press the rewind button and go back to the moment where my mother hugged me and I felt whole.

  We became fast friends and somewhere along the way he finally ditched Drew. Then it was Shea, Ryan and me. We were together more than we weren’t. We went to the studio with Shea every day while he recorded his first album. We went to his first show and cheered him on from the side of the stage. He would take me on to the stage and proclaim his love for me every chance he got and then take me to his dressing room and screw me senseless before we got high.

  On days that I’m really feeling sorry for myself, I wish I would have never met Shea at all, and then I’m glad I did because we both fucked each other over that first summer. He introduced me to the drugs that would consume me and my best friend’s lives for the next two years, but I made him sign that contract with Harmon Records. So in the end, I don’t know who was worse: my mother for handing me over to the wolves that night, or me for constantly feeding the talent I found to the sharks in the music industry. Wolves may be ruthless, but at least they showed their loyalty by traveling in packs and sharing their prey. Sharks are blind and scout out the weak, attacking anything that’s already bleeding. I found myself getting lost in all of it sometimes, wondering which I was—the shark or the prey? Was it possible to be a bleeding shark? And if so, how long before I got torn into?

  ***

  I woke up at the crack of dawn to sort things out and make sure I packed everything in time for my one o’clock flight. I’ll only be gone for a week, which isn’t too bad, but it’s long enough to have me second guessing my wardrobe and what to take. Shea has concerts and a media tour going on at the same time to promote his single and upcoming CD release, so I’ll have to find things to keep me entertained while he’s busy. It’s insane the amount of things he has to cram into just a couple of days at each city. Our first stop is San Francisco, which I’m both scared and excited for. A part of me dreads going back there, but the other part of me knows it’s time to face the music-it’s been long enough.

  My phone starts ringing just as I reach the door of Harmon, so I walk off the side to sort through my bag in search for it. As I do, my fingers touch something round, which I pull out in confusion. I smile when I see that they’re some of Melody’s gold play coins and shove them back in, finally finding my phone. Shea’s name is bright on my screen, no doubt to make sure I’m still going on the trip.

  “Hello?” I respond as I begin walking back to the elevator.

  “Hey, you’re still coming, right?” he asks.

  I stall for a moment, letting the anxiety coursing through me settle before I respond. “Yes. I told you I’d be there.”

  “Okay. Can you do me a huge favor? Stop by the studio on your way up to work or down, whatever, and ask Gia for a bag of mine that she has,” he says.

  “Okay,” I respond slowly, surprised by this. “Isn’t she supposed to be touring with you?”

  “Yeah, but she won’t be over there till tomorrow morning. She’s in the studio laying down a verse for one of my tracks, though, so I asked her to take my bag,” he explains.

  “‘Kay, I’ll get it. Anything else?” I ask, tapping my fingernail against t
he backside of my phone as I wait for the elevator. I swear that out of all of the elevators in Manhattan, this is the one that takes the longest.

  “Nope. See you soon,” he says before hanging up the phone.

  Butterflies swarm my stomach as I ride up to the forty-fourth floor, knowing that I’ll see Nick shortly. The last time I felt butterflies when I was going to see a guy was when I was sixteen years old and had just met Shea, which is ironic considering the situation I find myself in now. As I walk toward Studio 10, I wonder how Shea would feel if anything ever did happen between Nick and me. I can’t imagine he would be upset or actually jealous, but men act like cats—territorial and possessive over you one day and discarding you the next, so you never know which way their crazy minds will go.

  I pull the door open, ready to say hi, but stop short when I find Nick sitting down, his back facing me, and Gia draped over him with her arms wrapped around his neck. The blood rushes out of my head quickly and I feel myself go completely cold before it fuses back just as fast, boiling in its return.

  “Gia, get the fuck off me,” Nick growls, shifting his body from under hers.

  “Aw, come on, Nick,” she coos. “Cassidy told me how fun you can be.”

  He swivels in his seat, effectively throwing her off of him, and she stands back with her arms crossed in front of her chest. The navy blue romper she’s wearing covers close to nothing, leaving her long legs on display and her breasts practically spilling out from the top.

  “Cassidy needs to learn to keep her mouth shut,” Nick responds in a deadly quiet tone, his blue eyes narrowed at her. Both of them are so upset that they haven’t even noticed that I’m standing here. “When I’m working, I’m working,” he continues as I backtrack my steps to step outside. “You’re with Shea and he’s my boy. Show some fucking respect.” That’s the last thing I hear before tiptoeing out, still walking backwards, and shutting the door quietly.

  I wish I had stayed longer to hear her response or to see if she tried anything further, even though with the look Nick gave her, I doubt she would. I’m still holding the doorknob in my hand when it’s pulled open from the other side, and I yelp.

  “Oh, sorry,” Gia mutters, her eyes wide when she sees me.

  “Hey, no big deal. Shea told me to come by and get his bag,” I say, hoping my voice sounds as steady as I’m trying to keep my facial features.

  She has the decency to flush at the sound of Shea’s name and she nods her understanding. “I’m going to take a quick break, the bag is by the bathroom. Enter at your own risk, you may want to stay quiet because Shadow is working,” she says the word working with an attitude and an eye roll. “And he’s a total dick when he’s in the zone.”

  I let out a laugh. If I hadn’t just witnessed what I did I would think Gia was crazy, but being that I did, I just nod. “Got it. See you tomorrow.”

  She waves and says goodbye before storming off.

  Walking in again, I shut the door quietly behind me and walk toward the bathrooms. I have to pass by Nick to get there, so I stand behind him for a moment, studying the way his defined arms move along the soundboard and the back of his downcast head bobs along to whatever is pouring out of his earphones. His back is wide and strong and I wish I had the balls to throw my arms around him like I saw Gia do earlier. I wonder if he’d tell me off like he did her.

  I contemplate two things:

  1. How ridiculous would it be for me to do it?

  2. How awkward would it be if I did it and he chewed me out for it?

  I turn toward the chairs beside the bathroom, noticing there are two bags, a pink one and a black one. The black one has Shea’s signature “S” on it, so I pick it up, swinging it over my shoulders and take one last look at the back of Nick’s head and back before turning to leave.

  “You’re not even gonna say hi?” Nick says behind me, startling me. I place a hand over my quickening heartbeat and turn around slowly.

  “I was told you didn’t want interruptions,” I explain quietly.

  Nick pushes himself back in his seat, stretching out his legs and crossing his arms over his chest. The gray V-neck shirt he’s wearing is clinging to his hard body, and I can see the ripples that etch his toned torso. He tilts his head and looks at me with those knowing blue eyes of his as he purses his lips.

  “Really?” he asks. “Who told you that?”

  “I caught Gia on her way out,” I explain. “She looked … upset.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Good. So she told you not to interrupt me?”

  I shake my head with a smile. “Not exactly. She told me you were working and that you don’t like to be interrupted when you’re working,” I say with a shrug. “I only came by to pick this up for Shea.”

  Nick nods and scratches his chin. “Cool. I could’ve taken it to him.”

  “I had to come in anyway. I have stuff to do before I-” I stop short, frowning. “Wait a minute, you’re going too?”

  He tilts his head to the other side, his eyes dancing in amusement as a slow smile spreads over his face. “I am.”

  “Hmm.” I nod, not trusting myself to say anything else. “Well, I’ll see you later then.”

  “See you later,” he says, looking at me as if he’s on the verge of laughing at my expense, surely from the mix of emotions painted all over my face.

  I turn around and walk to the door, feeling his eyes on me as I do.

  “Hey, Brooklyn,” he calls out again, and I swear he’s enjoying the whole watching me go thing that guys do.

  “Yes?” I ask, unwilling to turn around because my heart is pounding at my throat.

  “You have permission to interrupt me,” he says.

  I turn around, stunned, because I have to—how can I not?

  “Okay,” I say.

  “Okay,” he agrees with a sense of finality before he turns around and gets back to work.

  Shaking my head, I turn around and take the elevator up to my office. I stick my head in Stacey’s office on the way to mine and ask her if my brother’s in yet. She’s on the phone, so she nods with a smile and signals me to go into his office. I knock once before I let myself in, finding him standing, facing the window as he talks on the phone.

  “I’ll be there on the weekend,” he says quietly. “I know we need to talk. I have to go. Okay. Bye.”

  Hendrix’s face is clouded as he turns to face me, and I can tell he’s still mulling over the conversation he had.

  “Who was that?” I ask with a frown as I walk toward him and give him a kiss on the cheek. I haven’t seen him in a couple of days. It seems like when I’m home, he’s not and vice versa.

  “Sarah,” he says with a sigh, running his hand through his curly blond hair.

  “Oh. How is she?”

  “Fine. She wants to talk.” The way he says the words, as if he’s not sure he wants to talk to her, makes me think there’s a lot more to the story, so I do what every good sister would and take a seat.

  “Talk. What’s going on?” I ask; glancing at my gold boyfriend watch quickly to make sure I have time to be nosey.

  Hendrix sighs loudly and takes a seat in his huge cherry leather chair. He places his elbows on the desk and buries his face between his hands. “How did things get so fucked up?” he asks, seemingly talking to himself. “One minute we were in love, crazy about each other, married. The next we were thrilled to be having a baby together, and then it seemed like we couldn’t even bear to look at each other. I just don’t get it. What the fuck went wrong?” His voice is soft and cracking and it breaks my heart along with it.

  “I’m sorry,” I offer in a whisper. I’m not good with comforting others. Hell, I can’t even comfort myself most of the time. Growing up we weren’t really shown empathy, and I think that’s one of those things that you kind of have to be shown in order to give.

  He shakes his head, still in his hands. “I just … I love her so much, but I don’t think we can work this out anymore. She’s there and
I’m here and I’d rather be here … but I can’t bear the thought of completely losing her.”

  I purse my lips, nodding as if I understand what he’s going through, even though I don’t. It’s easy to dish out advice when you’re not the one in the situation, though, so I do.

  “I think if you really feel that strongly about the whole thing, you should fight for your girls,” I suggest.

  He nods in agreement. “I think you’re right and I will.”

  “Good. I’ll be back in next week but I’m having Stace email me whatever she has for me. I’ll listen on the road,” I say, ruffling his hair as I lean down to place a kiss on his forehead.

  “See ya. Please be careful, Bee. PLEASE,” he pleads, frowning his sad brown eyes at me.

  “I will,” I promise. “Stop worrying, Mother Hen. Geez,” I joke, making him smile.

  A nagging thought strikes me as I’m walking out of his office, so I turn around and face him. “Hey, Henny … why do you want to fight for her now? After all this time? What changed?”

  He looks surprised by my question and averts his eyes from me. “Some guy in that band she’s producing asked her out,” he grumbles.

  My mouth falls open. “So a guy asking out your ex-wife is what made you realize that you might lose her? Jesus Christ, men are fucking stupid,” I mutter under my breath, turning back around and walking out.

  “We are! Remember that for future reference!” Hendrix screams behind me, making me laugh.

  On my way back downstairs, my elevator stops at the forty-fourth floor and Nick gets in with a couple of guys and one older lady. I scoot further back in the elevator to make room for them and anybody else that will get on as we descend floors. Nick pins me with his gaze, causing butterflies to reawaken in my core, and he scoots beside me.

  “Did Gia finish recording her part of the song?” I ask, tilting my head to look up at him.

  He nods, his eyes locked on the elevator door. “Yep. She’s usually pretty good once she stops fucking around.”