Playing Me

by Jenny Lynn

  “Sit. Sip. Spill the details.”

  I raised the glass to my lips and took a drink, trying to buy enough time to come up with something plausible. I didn’t want to lie to my best friend, but at the same time I couldn’t tell her the truth. A half-truth would have to be good enough.

  “I met Archer when Scott, the manager who signed me, took me to his show after mine. We ran into each other again when I went to sign my contract, and he asked me to dinner. I said yes.”

  “Corinne how could you not tell me? This is such a big deal.”

  “I guess I was nervous,” I shrugged.

  “Well it’s all over gossip sites, pictures of him out with a ‘mystery woman’. I was not expecting to see you when I was browsing the internet in my pajamas. So what was he like?”

  I laughed and took another drink, even though I was already dizzy from the champagne. “He was… cocky. Arrogant. I don’t know, he’s kind of fun.”

  “Not to mention hot as shit. Did you kiss him? Are you going out again? Come on Corinne, I need to live vicariously through you right now.”

  “No, we didn’t kiss. And no, I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.”

  I polished off my wine and put the glass down. “I’m sorry, I’m so wiped out. I need to call it a night. But I promise I’ll let you know if I have another date with Archer.”

  I placed my glass in the sink as Nancy watched me. “You better tell Tyler before he finds out for himself. He’s up against every woman’s wet dream, poor guy.”

  I laughed, heading down the hall. “Goodnight Nancy.”

  I shut my door and started to peel out of my clothes when my phone buzzed. I fished it out and saw it was a text from Archer. He had saved his number as “FB Archer” and sent me a text.

  You must be at home now, regretting not coming over

  I shook my head. This guy was too full of himself.

  If I had the gossip online would be worse right now. And why ‘FB Archer’?

  He got back to me quickly.

  For your ‘fake boyfriend’. But if you’re up for it, it could also be ‘fuck buddy Archer’ ;)

  I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop a smile from spreading on my lips.

  You’re the worst

  I stripped out of my clothes and slipped into my pajamas as the phone buzzed again.

  I’m far from the worst, and one of these days Corinne, you’re going to find out for yourself

  My skin erupted into goosebumps even though I was warm. My hand trembled as I typed out one final message.

  Goodnight Archer

  I switched my phone off and went to the bathroom to get ready, then got under my blankets holding them tight against my body. Archer had clearly set his sights on making some aspects of our fake relationship very real. It was reckless, it was a terrible idea and - the worst part of all - deep down I had to admit it thrilled me.

  Chapter Nine

  Archer

  I chuckled to myself as I read her last text to me. Corinne wanted me, I could read it on her across from me at the restaurant and I could read it now. The more she resisted, the better it was going to feel when I finally broke through her defenses. I was a conqueror, Caesar or Atilla the Hun, marching towards lands where I would lay my claim. And I wanted to claim her soft little body over and over again. It was just a matter of time.

  I tossed my phone aside and went to the bar to make myself a drink, whiskey on the rocks. I kept myself well stocked, liquor was a food group for me. I let the cold, smoky flavors roll over my tongue. I tasted ash with a hint of vanilla and caramel and sighed as I swallowed. I could feel the whiskey making its way into my body, setting my blood on fire. Strolling past my platinum records mounted on the wall I drank, too restless for sleep. I had hoped Corinne would come home with me, that we could get to know each other better, but from the night I met her I realized this wouldn’t be easy. I could make a call and have a girl here in under an hour, faster than a pizza, but I wouldn’t. Not tonight. Instead I could be more productive and maybe work on something new.

  I settled myself onto the couch and put my drink down, picking up my guitar. I started to play a melody that had been stuck in my head for a few weeks now, trying to expand on it and maybe turn it into a song. I leaned deep into the cushions, propping my legs up, and worked my fingers against the strings. Over, over, over again but I was stuck. Something was edging its way into my mind and refused to leave. Dammit, why couldn’t Corinne have just come over? I wanted her, she was a distraction that was gnawing at me until she became an obsession. It wasn’t her looks, I had fucked plenty of hot women and would fuck many more in my lifetime. It was something else I couldn’t put my finger on.

  I put down my guitar and grabbed my laptop, opening the screen and doing a search. She wasn’t that hard to find, she had a basic website and a catalogue of music available. It was just a matter of time before the label’s PR team scrubbed her old amateur image from the web and invented her as something new. I was glad I had a chance to peek at this version of her, before she went through the image machine.

  There were a few photos of her I lingered over. One was a close up of her face, those wide innocent eyes and below her slim nose full, pouty lips. I pictured closing my mouth over hers, feeling their softness, then I imagined how good they would feel wrapped around my thick cock. The thought started to get me hard and I took another drink from my glass of whiskey. There was another image of her wearing a yellow sundress, playing guitar under a tree. She was radiant. She was beautiful. I wanted to rip her flimsy clothes off and fuck her bent over my couch.

  I clicked over to her YouTube channel and pressed play. She was seated in what looked like her bedroom, holding that beat up old guitar of hers, her hair piled messy on the top of her hair. She started to play and I leaned back, glass in my hand letting her voice wash over me like a cool wave. Perfect pitch that moved seamlessly from seductive low notes to then reach up and show off her higher range. Her voice swirled around me, flowing through me, awakening something in me. I picked up my guitar and as I listened I tried to play along, improvising over her melodies with my own. Creating something new with a part of both of us, something completely unique and original. I was lost in a trance, listening to song after song, when my phone rang breaking the spell. It was Scott. I snapped my laptop shut and answered to talk to my manager.

  “Hey.”

  “How was your first date?” he asked. “I’m seeing some pictures online, this is working Archer.”

  “It went fine, she’s a nice girl.”

  “Well just wait to see how curious people get when they see you two together again, and again. Women will be falling over themselves.”

  I picked up my drink and sucked half of it back. “And what, they aren’t doing that already? Someone should have given them the memo then.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Scott corrected. “You have sex appeal, that’s always been a part of your image. But seeing you with the same woman instead of a different one every night is going to do great things for your reputation. Trust me.”

  “So when do you want me to see her again?”

  “Tomorrow night. I’m going to have you two crash karaoke night at this Manhattan bar called the Hideout. People are going to go nuts. Trust me.”

  “The more you say ‘trust me’ the more I get second thoughts about this Scott.”

  My manager laughed. “I’ll send you and Corinne the details. Make sure to get there together and leave together. Oh, and Archer?”

  “Yeah?”

  “This shouldn’t be hard for you, but don’t be afraid to get a bit physical with her in public.”

  I grinned, not that he could see it. “You got it Scott.”

  We hung up and I picked back up my guitar strumming the tune that I had stuck in the back of my mind. It felt good to have a team in place managing me, orchestrating how I promoted myself and booking my concerts. It was a lesson I learned early about the industry. The more succes
sful you became, the more people there were under you holding you up on a pedestal. But, this also meant there were more people who depended on you for their livelihood. It was like an ecosystem, everything existing in a codependent relationship. Corinne would learn all about that eventually. I wondered how she would deal with the stress, with the immense pressure and the loss of privacy. With the expectations. With the sheer, dizzying thrill of it all.

  I knew how I coped. I reached over to the table and picked up my drink, draining the last of it down my throat with thick swallows. I shoved myself to my feet to refill my glass, thinking of Corinne as I poured. If she wasn’t careful this industry was going to chew her up and spit her out. She needed someone to guide her, to tell her how things really worked. I could be that person. Sure, I still wanted to fuck her, but there was no reason I couldn’t also give her some advice now and then. Point her on the right path.

  I dropped back onto the couch and pulled out my wallet, sliding out my lucky charm. It was an old beat up and wrinkled dollar bill. I held it between my fingers, holding it in front of my eyes, remembering. Going back in my mind to a memory that made my heart swell and break at the same time. My first dollar I made off my music. I had been seven, just a kid, and screwing around with music. My mother encouraged me exploring my artistic side, she signed me up for music lessons, and my obsession began. I was playing guitar every chance I could, and when I wasn’t playing I was daydreaming about it. I spent a weekend locked away in my room writing my first song. It wasn’t very good, it was about clouds or some bullshit like that. I played it for my parents, my dad kept glancing at his watch. Afterwards he gave a grunt and left for his study. I felt torn apart by his reaction, I had worked on that song so hard. My mom was focused on me though, her beautiful face shining bright with pride as she clapped enthusiastically.

  “That was fantastic Archer, really beautiful.”

  I shrugged, shuffling my feet. She reached into her purse and pulled out a dollar then handed it to me. I held it and looked at the bill in my hands, confused.

  “I’d like to buy your song,” she told me.

  I stared at her, at the bill, confused. “Why?” I asked finally.

  “Because I love it, sweetheart. Because it’s special, and I want it to be mine. Please tell me this song you wrote can be mine forever.”

  I held my chin high then with childish pride and grinned. “Do you want to hear your song again mom?” I asked. She smiled and nodded, and I played it over and over again while she delighted in the joy of her only child. While I delighted in the love and adoration of the only parent I had who believed in me. A parent who was no longer there for me. Who would never hear me play again.

  I clutched my bill in one hand while I took a swig of my drink, trying to dull the pain. I wasn’t the only one with a dead parent. Corinne surprised me when she admitted she lost her father. Many of us were out in the world, missing a part of our origins. I wasn’t alone or unique in this, but still, my pain felt solitary. It felt unique to me, like it stole just a bit more joy from my life than it did from the lives of anyone else around me. But as I sat across from Corinne, as I saw that flash in her eyes, I thought maybe she could understand. Still, I didn’t ask her about it. That was too personal, too vulnerable, and that’s not what she was going to be to me.

  I opened my laptop back up, pressed play, and let her siren’s voice fill my empty room with something deep and warm. I’m not capable of love. I’m not capable of a relationship that isn’t orchestrated by my calculating PR team. But I was capable of lust, I was capable of the desire to chase and possess. I wanted Corinne. I needed to know what it felt like to lay her down, to explore her soft body and to make her cling to me in desire. I needed to mark her, make her my own for as long as I wanted to use her. It was a growing need inside me, and I was not going to give up until I had enjoyed her in every way I wanted to.

  Chapter Ten

  Corinne

  I arrived at Red Rooster for noon, butterflies in my stomach and excitement coursing through my veins. I had spent all morning with Nancy practicing what I was going to say to Tyler. There was no way around it. I was going to have to tell him I had been signed to a label, that it was keeping me very busy, and that I was spending time with Archer Evans. It was honest enough, and I hoped he would understand. We could be friends, I would keep him in my life, and who knows - when all this passed maybe we could go on a date.

  I had decided on a blue skirt that flowed down to my ankles, a white t-shirt and black ankle strap heels. Cute yet casual. I liked how I dressed, but I think the photos of me that were snapped on my first date with Archer made the PR team think they should be more involved. When Scott called me this morning to let me know a car would be picking me up to bring Archer and I to a karaoke party in Manhattan tonight, he also mentioned that an outfit for me to wear tonight would be dropped off at my apartment by courier this afternoon. My guess? They were less than impressed by my practical blouse and slacks look.

  I paused at the window, looking into Red Rooster and scanning the space. I spotted Tyler seated at a couch in the corner, flipping through a magazine. I took the chance to pause outside and watch him. He was wearing a Ramones t-shirt, I saw the hint of a tattoo peeking out under the sleeve high on his arm. His hair was adorably messy and I wanted to run my hands through it. I wanted to be a girl, meeting a cute boy she liked. I wanted to flirt. But I knew all of that needed to be off the table. It was finally my chance at a music career, and I needed to do my part. I opened the door and walked towards him, as I approached the chair Tyler looked up. The way his eyes brightened tugged at my resolve to let him down.

  “Corinne, hi, please, have a seat.” Tyler put down the copy of Rolling Stone he had been reading and gestured to an empty chair.

  “Hi Tyler.”

  “Can I get you a coffee? I’m due for a refill.”

  “I’d love a cappuccino.”

  He stood up from his seat and wandered over to the counter to order for us. I stole a glance of him from behind. His jeans hung off his hips giving me a glimpse of his cute butt. I blushed and turned back around. In a few minutes he came back with one black coffee and one cappuccino, I shook two packets of sugar into mine.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” he said.

  “I can’t stay long,” I cautioned him. “But I wanted to see you, and thank you in person for the beautiful flowers.”

  “Ah,” he sighed. “You’re coming to let me down in person.”

  “Tyler, it’s not that I’m not interested. Honestly.”

  “What is it then Corinne?”

  I sipped my coffee, buying me a few more precious seconds, then sighed. This was it. Time to let the cat out of the bag.

  “I got a record deal Tyler, with Kick.”

  His eyes widened. “Wow, holy shit, Corinne. That’s so impressive. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. You see, the thing is, I’m going to be really busy right now getting my career off the ground.”

  He looked wounded. “And you think I wouldn’t understand that? Corinne, I’m a musician too. I get it. And I’d still like to see you.”

  Shit. This was going to be harder than I thought. “I appreciate that Tyler. But… there’s something else.” He looked at me, waiting for me to continue. “I’m, well, I’m sort of seeing someone.”

  “Okay. Is it serious? Is it exclusive?”

  “It’s..” I winced. “It’s Archer Evans.”

  He lowered his cup to the table so fast some coffee spilled over the side. “What? Like, THE Archer Evans?” I nodded and he blew out a breath he had trapped in his lungs. “Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t assume I’d have no competition for you but this is like going up against a gladiator.”

  But I like you Tyler, my mind screamed. This is all for publicity. Only I didn’t say any of it. I just sat there and twisted my hands in my lap.

  “I still want to hang out Tyler, and I’d like us to be friends. If that’s okay
with you.”

  Tyler forced a smile. He looked so cute I wanted to launch myself forward and hug him, but that would have sent the wrong message. Things were confusing enough right now without me complicating them further.

  “I’d like to be your friend Corinne,” he said finally.

  I drank my coffee as we enjoyed a calm silence, both of us no doubt thinking about what I had said. What it meant. How quickly things can change for a musician trying to break into the industry.

  “So, what is he like?” Tyler asked, snapping me from my trance.

  “Who?” I blinked, caught off guard.

  “Archer. What’s he like, as a person.”

  “Oh.” I thought about my answer. He’s an asshole. He’s full of himself. He’s hot, and he knows it. “He’s, well, he’s an interesting person,” I said finally. “Very talented and experienced in the industry. I’m learning a lot from him.”

  “Does he make you happy?”

  Tyler’s question made me do a double take. It was so honest, so vulnerable, I couldn’t come up with a contrived answer. Instead I offered him the truth.

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Well if he doesn’t…. You let me know.” Tyler grinned, and it was a genuine smile that warmed me throughout my body. I laughed. He wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, it seemed. And I was grateful.

  “I better get going,” I said as I checked my watch. I finished my coffee, Tyler stood when I did. “Thank you for inviting me out and being so understanding.”

  “Anytime you want to hang out Corinne, let me know. Maybe we can practice together sometime.”

  I nodded then smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I wanted him to kiss me, I wanted to stay longer, but I knew it was a bad idea. So instead I turned on my heel, waved over my shoulder, and headed out the doors towards the subway.

  ***

  As soon as I walked into the apartment I noticed the big white box on the table.