Bad for You (Fallen Star Book 4)

by Candy J. Starr

  “Don’t you want to know what the money is? You haven’t even asked about that.”

  Like I needed money to date Devon. They might call it fake dating but I knew, with enough effort on my part, it’d soon be real dating. That’s what every motivational poster I’d ever seen told me. The only thing holding me back was myself and, to be honest, there was no holding back at all.

  The dude mentioned a sum of money that made my heart flip.

  “How much?”

  He said it again.

  Shit, that was more than I made in a year. But then, I made almost nothing. “And how long do I fake girlfriend for?”

  He looked like he hadn’t figured that out. He scratched his head.

  “A week,” said Devon.

  A week? That wasn’t nearly long enough. “That’s not going to look realistic to your fans,” I said. “I know. I’m one of them. If you need a reliable source of what your fans think, look no further. It’s got to be three months minimum if you want to look like you’ve settled down.”

  “A month,” he said.

  I’d take it but the manager shook his head.

  “Three months sounds perfect. That will take you through to the release. You’ll have a nice steady girlfriend for the release parties, then you can go on tour and the break up will seem natural.”

  I grinned. Then I got my phone back off the manager. I’d call work and tell them an emergency had come up that required my urgent attention. It was a temp job. It wasn’t like they couldn’t get someone else to stuff their envelopes. Meantime, I had a first class ticket to dreamland.

  Chapter 10.Devon

  I wasn’t supposed to leave town. It wasn’t the first time I’d punched someone, not by a long shot, but that frog-face reporter was a first-rate nut sack. Prosecute me to the full extent of the law, he’d said. I had no idea what the full of extent of the law was but I’d leave that to the manager. That’s what you paid managers for. I’d done my bit and met with the lawyer. I’d been told not to leave town and a bunch of other stuff.

  Sometimes, I missed our old manager, Hannah. She’d been a hard arse. Not so good when she was on your case but definitely a plus when she was looking out for you. She’d have dealt with all this in no time, given the guy a bit of cash to shut him up and I’d have heard no more. But, after the band broke up the second time, Tex had gotten Hannah and I’d started afresh. She said she couldn’t deal with managing both of us. I bet she regretted picking Tex. I made far more money than him now.

  Anyway, I needed to leave town and no one could stop me. Well, the police, I guess they could, if they found out. But I wasn’t planning on being that obvious. I decided to drive the five hours back home, rather than fly. If I didn’t use my credit cards, no one would be able to trace me. I drew a heap of cash out of the bank, packed a bag with my stuff. Threw the acoustic in for good measure and hit the road. If I worked it right, I could drive there and back in one day and no one would even know I’d gone.

  Hell, there are times you shouldn’t try to tie a man down. It wasn’t like I planned to skip bail or anything like that. Surely that stupid judge realised that, with my face, there was no escape for me. I could walk into any town, anywhere, and I’d be recognised. Judge didn’t seem to care though. He called me reckless. I kinda liked that. I might add it to my bio. Made me sound like an outlaw.

  Once I got out of the city, my head cleared. I put the top down and turned the music up loud. This was the dream, me and the open road.

  There wasn’t much to see, just trees and warehouses. I hadn’t driven like this for years. Once, it was all about the driving, getting in the van and touring around. I loved being the driver. Hours behind the wheel never worried me and I had control of the music. Life sure had been sweet then. I’d been the wild one. Still was. I’d never outgrow that.

  Brownie was slow and steady. He’d sent me a message recently. They were going to have their second kid. He was out of the rock business and had trained as a carpenter. He seemed happy. Happy to have some crazy stories about the good old days to share with his kids. Happy to get back on stage once in a while when Tex needed him. It was a slow, contented kind of happiness. One I’d never understand.

  Tex was a whole other story. When we’d been young, he’d been almost as wild as me. Not so crazy with the women though. And he always had his serious side. He’d had to be like that. He’d had Julie to look after. He said a few times that he was only doing it for her. How else was a young guy with nothing behind him and no education going to get anywhere?

  I thought he’d been joking. He loved the music as much as I did. It burnt in him like it did in me. We’d rock together for the rest of our lives.

  But, after Julie died, he’d thrown it all in. With a snap of his fingers, everything disappeared. The band, the music and all the time we’d spent building our name. It made me realise then that everything was Tex. I was just a sidekick to his fame.

  Even when we got back together for a while, it wasn’t the same for him as it was for me. He didn’t need this to survive. He only played now when he had to.

  I could call him when I hit town, call him and Brownie both. We could have a few drinks, talk about the old days and that kind of shit, but where did that get you? Where I was going, Tex might show up anyway.

  I pulled into a gas station and filled the car. While I was there, I grabbed a greasy sandwich and a Coke. From here on, the road would veer to the coast. I’d have ocean views. Hell, I’d left my sunnies at home and now the sun had come out, the glare off the ocean would be killer. I grabbed an oversized pair from the dusty rack near the counter, threw in a trucker cap for good measure. Wasn’t my usual style but this could be a new me. The casual, road trip me.

  The next few hours flew by. I knew this part of the road better. A bit of a way before I hit town, I got to the turnoff for Tex’s. The road that lead to his house. Instinct made me indicate before I remembered. The house wasn’t his any more. He’d turned it into a home for wayward orphans or some crap like that. Tex always was a better person than me. He thought about others.

  I didn’t even remember where he lived any more. Some apartment in the city. A nice penthouse with everything designed to keep out the noise. In the middle of everything but like you were another world away. That’s what his partner, Ruby, wanted. She had all kinds of weirdness inside her but it was a good kind of weirdness. She knew what she wanted in life and she managed that. She’d made a different man out of Tex too.

  I’d almost hit the city when I spotted a flower stand. One of those fallen down places on the side of the road. I pulled over, spinning gravel and jumped out of the car. There was no one around, just an honesty box. Did those things work? What was to stop people from just taking the flowers?

  The place didn’t have much selection. Just buckets filled with purple flowers and nothing else.

  I grabbed a few bunches of the flowers. Then checked my wallet. I had no change. Nothing smaller than a fifty. If I’d not wasted money on that damn trucker cap, I’d have the right money. I checked that honesty box to see if I could make change but the money was securely in there. No way of getting any out.

  Screw it, it was only money. I put the fifty in the box then gathered up the rest of the flowers. There were about thirty bunches in all. They filled the backseat of the car. I hoped they wouldn’t muck up the seats. Usually there was a woman to wrap stuff around the stems but this place was deserted.

  When I got back in the car, even with the top down, I could smell those purple flowers.

  Ten years today. Ten long years. Tex and Brownie had both changed so much in that time. They’d grown older, more responsible. I’d not changed a damn bit. I could make stupid mistakes now just as well I could when I was young. Still as good-looking too. I checked the rear view mirror just to make sure, as if my looks could suddenly decline in the time since I last looked. No worries there.

  I got to the suburb and found the place. Once, I’d come here e
very week, then it got to once a month. Now, a couple of times a year. It didn’t mean she wasn’t in my thoughts, just that a slab of stone on the ground meant little to me.

  There was a hearse parked where I wanted to park. People crowding around. A funeral taking place, a new gravestone. I didn’t want to go near them. They’d want to believe that time heals. What a load of bullshit. Ten years had healed nothing. It put a glossy surface over the grief, made it more palatable to look at but underneath, the wound still festered. There was no healing, there was only more pain.

  I parked over the back of the parking lot and walked to the grave, carrying the flowers in my arms. She wouldn’t have wanted them. She’d have mocked me. “What point are flowers? They’re only going to die too.” That’s the kind of thing she’d have said. But I had to bring something. It wasn’t like you could leave a bag of smack and a syringe on someone’s grave. I arranged the flowers over the granite in a haphazard fashion.

  Water from the flowers dripped down my arm. I couldn’t wipe it away because my arms were full. Stupid flowers.

  I never knew what to do at a graveside. I wasn’t the kind who could sit and talk to someone who wasn’t there. I’d not know what to say to her, anyway. The things I wanted to say weren’t the kind of things you’d say out loud, so that anyone could overhear. No soft words or sweet memories. I wanted to rail at her, yell and scream and maybe kick things.

  How dare she leave me like she did? Why hadn’t she cared just a little bit?

  Instead, I kept it all inside. I stood, just staring at the headstone until the sun lost its heat and the wind became bitter.

  Grass had grown up around the sides of the grave. I squatted down and tugged at it, wanting to make things tidy. The grass came out in huge clumps, leaving behind a big hole in the dirt, almost like Julie had tried to clamber out of the ground. Zombie Julie, hell, that’d be something to see. I kicked at the hole with my foot trying to fill the dirt back in.

  The headstone was simple. Just her name and the date she’d died. Tex hadn’t wanted anything more. There were no saccharine words to mark her life.

  What would she be doing if she was here with me today? Would we be married? Maybe we’d have split up, gone our own ways. But she’d still be alive and, maybe, I’d have dealt with that pain and moved on. I never got that chance though. Instead, I had all the guilt and the hurt that would never go away.

  I’d been the one to find her. She’d been so peaceful; like she’d just gone to sleep. The most peaceful she’d looked in years, as though the demons that plagued her had gone away. At first, I’d thought she could be saved. She wasn’t dead. Not Julie. I called an ambulance but it’d already been too late.

  “I thought you’d be here.”

  I jumped. I’d been a million miles away, once again trying to get into the ambulance to go with her as Tex held me back. I turned. It was Tex. He didn’t have flowers.

  “Where’s Ruby?” I asked. I thought the two of them would be here together.

  “I came alone. She never knew Julie.” His voice was flat.

  There had to more to it than he let on. Ruby hadn’t known Julie, but she should be here for Tex.

  “Do you want me to take a walk?” I asked him.

  I wasn’t sure if he wanted to be left alone at her graveside or not. Truth was, I didn’t want to see the big guy break down in tears. That’d be as awkward as hell. What would I do? Hug him? Pat him on the back? Not bloody likely.

  I wandered around for a while, reading the headstones on other graves, to give him some time. I wrapped my jacket around myself, wishing I’d thought to bring a coat. With the sun getting lower in the sky, the air had a harsh chill. Somehow, that seemed appropriate though, more fitting than being comfortable.

  Eventually, Tex wandered over to me.

  “She’d have never made old bones. I realise that now,” he said. “She had that self-destructive urge that went deeper than either of us could fix.”

  I nodded but I wasn’t so sure. I’d always wanted to think that I could be enough. For a few years there, it was all fun. It hadn’t been about self-destruction at all. We were young and beautiful and nothing could touch us. I wasn’t sure I regretted those times. Maybe, if I’d known then how things would play out, it’d have been different. I doubted it though.

  Tex and I walked together back to our cars.

  “Did you hear Brownie’s having another kid?” he said.

  “Yeah, he sent me a message.”

  Tex stared off into the middle distance for a while. “We’ve been trying. We’ve been trying hard, but it’s not so easy.”

  There were probably words I could say to make that moment better but they weren’t words I knew. The whole idea of someone purposely wanting to have a kid was so outside my experience that I couldn’t even imagine it. My life had been devoted to making sure some chick didn’t turn up with a kid attached, saying those dreaded words: “it’s yours.”

  Still, he seemed changed. Tex had always had an unshakable core of self-belief. He knew what he wanted and he knew he could get it. Hell, how else does a 17-year-old believe that the only way out is a rock career? For most people, that’s just a dream. For Tex, it was a goal. One that he’d planned and worked for. Made it damn uncomfortable being in a band with him at times but, without it, we’d have probably played small crowds for a year or two then disbanded.

  But now, he had a trace of self-doubt. I guess making babies was something you couldn’t control.

  Across the quiet lawns came the sound of cars starting up and heading off. The funeral was over. People headed somewhere to get drunk and cry.

  “You need to get over her,” Tex said. “It’s been long enough.”

  I didn’t answer him. I didn’t need to justify my feelings. I stood by my car. Purple petals littered the back seat. I’d need to vacuum that out.

  “I think you’re in love with your own grief,” he said. “You’re letting it define you.”

  “Huh?” I didn’t need Tex acting as my grief counsellor.

  “It’s been ten years. Come on, mate, you need to move on. You have this picture of yourself as the tragic hero. The one true love that you lost too early. But really, the two of you were never that good together anyway. You spent more time fighting and breaking up than you did together.”

  I wanted to punch him so bad. The impulse surged through my body. But I’d punched him so many times before and it’d never stopped him from being a prick. He could talk. He’d locked himself up in that crumbling wreck of a house for years after she died. Now he’d moved on and he thought he was the healthy one.

  “Yeah, I’ll think about it,” I said and got out my keys.

  “Find a real woman. Not one of those Barbie doll groupies who flit from one rocker to another, but a woman who cares about you. Not the ‘on stage’ you either, but the horrible, fucked-up mess you really are. Give up on the sadness and actually make yourself happy for a while.”

  For an instant, as he said that, the picture of that blonde marshmallow woman flitted through my mind. She was about as far from Julie as anyone I’d ever met. As far from the constant parade of women in my bed too. She was sweet, too sweet. I’d destroy a woman like that. All her innocent admiration would turn to hate. I couldn’t do that.

  I shrugged. “Yeah, choose life and all that.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s not such a bad thing.”

  Chapter 11.Daisy

  This fake girlfriend thing wasn’t working out as well as I expected. I thought I’d get to hang out with Devon all the time but he spent an awful lot of time in the studio doing music stuff. I couldn’t complain about that. After all, no recording meant no new songs. Then he did publicity stuff. He was hardly ever around.

  I’d arranged with the manager to spend the day with him though. We’d have lunch together, then do some couples stuff. I had to get lots of pictures to post online and there’d be some reporters “accidentally” seeing us. I
could work with that. I had a bag of stuff with me.

  If we were going to look like a couple, I thought couple’s outfits would be really sweet. It wasn’t really Devon’s style but he was going for a new image anyway. It wasn’t full on matchy-matchy, just t-shirts I had made. Mine said, “I *heart* Devon” and his said, “I *heart* Daisy”. They were so cute. He’d surely love them.

  When I got to his apartment building though, he wasn’t home. I rang on the bell for 20 minutes, just in case he’d slept in. I couldn’t actually bash on his door because it was one of those fancy buildings where you needed a swipe card to get into the elevator even.

  So, I went down to his parking spot. His car was gone.

  I called Pete.

  “Shit, he’s not supposed to go anywhere without me knowing. The kid doesn’t seem to get he’s on bail. If he gets thrown in the clink, we’re all screwed.”

  “But our date…”

  It was too late; the guy had hung up. Hell, what was I supposed to do for the day?

  I couldn’t mope around. Instead I headed down to the concierge desk.

  “I’ve come around to make dinner for Devon. I’m his girlfriend, you know.” I flashed the guy a grin and he smiled back. Yeah, he’d seen the photos. “I misplaced my key though. It’s a huge hike across town to get back to my place, so I thought you’d be able to give me the spare.”

  He shook his head. “We can’t do that.”

  “I’m sure you can. Look, I’ve organised all this with Devon. He’s in the studio at the moment so you can’t contact him but you can call his manager, Pete. He’ll clear it all.”

  The guy put his head on the side for a minute. I crossed my fingers, hoping he’d fall for it. Then he looked up something on his computer.

  “We have Pete’s number on file. I’ll give him a call.”

  Pete had better play along with this. I could see them talking but couldn’t hear what the concierge was saying. When the concierge hung up, he smiled. Yeah.