Believed (My Misery Muse)

Home > Contemporary > Believed (My Misery Muse) > Page 9
Believed (My Misery Muse) Page 9

by Betzold, Brei


  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  “I told them my name, where I lived, where I went to school while they fed me dinner. What I didn’t know was that they used that information to pull up my address. They went to our tiny apartment and my mom was gone, everything we owned was gone. She’d left. I was put into emergency care, and shuffled around until I was finally placed in a home. I was moved around a lot, bounced between group homes and foster homes, I lost track of how many.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “I never knew my dad, hell, I don’t even know if my mom knew who he was. She never talked about him, but I don’t have a lot of memories of my time with her so who knows. My therapist thinks I blocked out a lot of the time before she left.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.

  “Not your fault, plus I’m one of the lucky ones.”

  “How so?”

  “When I was sixteen, I was placed with a nice widow who had an older son who no longer lived at home. I think she was lonely, anyway Mrs. Harris took me in. From day one she wouldn’t put up with my crap, I was a troublemaker back then, so angry at the world. She had me scrubbing toilets and floors, took up as much free time as she could by having me clean. Though it didn’t work and I still got in trouble, skipping school, smoking pot, whatever I could do to get kicked out, right?”

  “Why did you want to be kicked out?”

  “It was easier, it was safer to not need someone, to not care about someone else, then you couldn’t get hurt. Only Mom wouldn’t go for it, she fought back. Eventually she brought me to a therapist who wasn’t there just because the state paid her to be. She wasn’t even being paid by the state, Mom found her for me. Between the two of them, I was able to start letting go of some of the anger.”

  “That easily? Just like that, it was gone?”

  I scoffed “Uh no, not even close. It took years, hell I still struggle with it. I’ve just come to realize that if I let it consume me I’m the one that loses. It doesn’t hurt my birth mother for me to resent and hate her, she will never even know. It was hurting me though, it was destroying my chances at a life.”

  “How did you start working at Pin’s Ink?”

  “Mom decided I needed something more to fill my time so she made Cris give me a job. He was a shit about it too; he didn’t like the idea of Mom fostering kids. He said it wasn’t safe—pssh, whatever she raised him mostly by herself and he’s a pain in the ass. Anyway, he finally agreed to give it a try and I fell in love with the shop.”

  “Is that what you want to do the rest of your life? Tattoo or run the shop, what?”

  “I thought about becoming a tattoo artist, only the sight of blood freaks me out, so thought it might not be a good idea. I have no interest in running the shop, Cris can do that all that paperwork bores the piss out of me. No, I want to make custom jewelry.”

  Sam

  “I didn’t know that,” I said quietly wrapping a lock of her hair around my finger, it felt like silk and I couldn’t help but play with it.

  I could hear the smile in her voice. “I am working on starting my own company, so far I have a store on Etsy and I sell things at the shop. I want to take it further though.”

  “How did you get started in jewelry making?”

  “It started off with a client seeing a sketch I’d made of a ring I had envisioned. Turns out, she had a friend who makes jewelry as a hobby. She introduced us and her friend brought me to this crafters circle. I soaked up as much information as I could and then ran with it.”

  “Wow.”

  “Devi’s helped a lot too. She found me some classes at different places and signed me up. Then Mags is building me a website and Cris is helping me with the paperwork to start my own company. Now I just need to get the money together to make it all happen. I was saving and had quite a bit tucked away before…” her voice trailed off and I knew what she meant. Before her ex started stealing from her to pay for his drug habit.

  We stopped talking both enjoying the quiet atmosphere, it was one of those rare times when no words were needed. I brushed my fingers through her hair while she laid her head in my lap and I wished for a fleeting moment that this was my life. That I had enough faith and trust in the world to allow myself to fall for a girl like Jules. She was everything I wasn’t, vibrant, silly, and most importantly living her life for herself. I looked down at her, her eyes closed, mouth partly opened breathing steadily. She wasn’t mine though and this was life was a fantasy that would collapse hurting us both.

  My cell rang and I quickly answered it before it could wake Jules. I spoke quietly while playing with her hair as she slept never really hearing what the person on the other end of the line was saying. Instead, I lived in the fantasy for a little longer wishing I was still able to fall into love with blinders on.

  Chapter 16

  Jules

  I stretched and rolled which was a huge mistake since I landed face first on a tile floor. I groaned pushing myself up and rubbing my nose while trying to blink away tears—fuck that hurt. I thought back to last night, I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I did remember lying on the couch with my head in Sam’s lap. I let my head fall back down, then stifled a cry when my forehead once again hit the hard tile floor. I laid there waiting for more humiliation. I mean how many times am I going to be caught on my knees, ass, or back around Sam before it just gets weird?

  When no comment or sound comes, I gather up what little pride I have left and look up, I expected to see Sam still asleep so he missed my stellar performance. Instead though the room was empty, and the more I listened I realized that the bus was empty. Well this isn’t awkward, you tell a guy more or less your life story and he ditches you. The only thing worse would have been if I slept with him and woken up to find my bed empty. I sighed, been there and done that, well not with Sam, but different guy same story. Though I think it hurts more to emotionally connect with someone and them just leave you than to spread your legs and them leave you. With sex all you lose is a small piece of your self-worth, with your emotional wounds, you reopen them all so they seep and you have to try to close them again with butterfly bandages. I’d take a little less self-respect right now instead of the stinging sensation on my soul.

  I shoved my thoughts into a closet and bolted the door, then made myself stand up and head to the shower. No need for anyone else to see the vulnerable part of myself, already did that once this week, not up for it again. I grabbed some clothes and prepared to figure out how to take a shower. There were more knobs and levers than on the Tardis. I stripped and climbed in eyeing the shower wearily, I looked over each of the knobs until I found one that said H and one that said C. Okay I could do this. I didn’t need an instruction manual to take a shower, right?

  I sighed when I realized I forgot my shower stuff in the other room. I climbed out of the shower stall and found out that there were no towels in here. What the fuck is wrong with men? Why would they have a bathroom and no towels? I went and pulled out my bag, found my shower stuff and found that Devi had packed me a few towels—bless that woman. I grabbed what I needed and went back into the bathroom. Shower scene take two, I thought and decided to be brave. I turned a knob and scalding hot water came pouring at me from the rain showerhead as well as the sides. I screamed and jerked the cold water on while hoping that I only suffered a first-degree burn on my extremities. Finally, the water got to a temperature that wasn’t boiling and I was able to wash.

  I had my shampoo in my hair while singing Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus at the top of my lungs. I’d just got to my favorite part about the IROC when the water went from just under melt skin to artic. I yelped and sprung back into the wall, which of course was made of fiberglass, and pushed me right back into the water steam. Goose bumps traveled in places I didn’t know I could get goose bumps and I reached for the hot water knob and of course, the damn thing only made the water colder. I resigned myself to an ice shower and quickly washed the shampoo out, scrubbed d
own my body, and did a quick yet thorough rinse with conditioner. I was just about to shut off the water when I heard a noise from below me and then a bubble of something came up out of the drain. I shrieked like a little girl slammed into the door shoving it open and jumped out of the shower, only apparently the tile gets slippery when it’s wet.

  I went flying through the air when my wet foot hit a tile that was being sprayed with cold water from the multiple showerheads and liquid from an unknown abyss was gurgling up through the drain in the shower. I landed hard, the back of my head slammed into the tiles, and my elbow hit the counter on the way down. I landed on my hip and ribs somehow and I felt the air evaporate out of my body. I gasped, that’s twice in less than an hour that I’d fallen on my ass. I laid there as cold water sprayed across my naked body, and my dry clothes, trying to decide if I wanted to laugh or cry, then decided on laughing because it’s always better than crying, right? I let out a few giggles, wiped the tears from my eyes, and thanked my lucky stars that I was alone for this humiliation.

  After a minute I was able to breathe again, I pulled myself up gingerly, leaned into the shower and turned off the water, grabbed my clothes, and walked as quickly as I could, without having a repeat of the falling incident out of the bathroom. Never again, from here on out I’d take a shower at an arena or the guys could learn to live with me being smelly. I lay down on the bed still dripping wet and slowly took stock of my injuries, and that is, of course, how Seth found me. Laid naked across the bed in the room like an offering to some ancient god, damn it is this day over yet?

  “Hey I thought I heard…uhm, Jules you okay?” I almost giggled when he spun around and faced out the door into the bunk room, only it hurt too much to move.

  I grunted a response.

  “Is there a reason why you’re lying on the bed naked?” Seth asked facing the door.

  “Your shower’s possessed,” I told him like it explained everything.

  I could see his shoulders shaking and if I could at that moment get up and beat the ever-living piss out of him I would have. I knew the bastard was laughing at me.

  “You should have waited until one of us could show you how to use it,” he choked out.

  “Go away,” I mumbled, “let me die in peace.”

  “If…” snort, “…if you need anything just yell.” He raced out of the room, and I could hear him laughing the entire way.

  I laid there for a few more minutes just to make sure nothing was broken. I stood up and looked in the mirror. I groaned, I looked like I was the loser in a prizefight. My body had more bruises than I could count, my forehead had a small cut, my nose was swollen, and my ass hurt. I tossed my now wet clothes into the bathroom sink, never actually stepping foot into the possessed room, and went in search of dry clothes.

  I decided that I wasn’t leaving the bus ever again so grabbed a pair of sleep pants and my favorite SLC Punk T-shirt, one of the few items that made it through Beau’s wrath. Then I went in search of Seth and caffeine and not necessarily in that order.

  I found both coffee and Seth in the same place. “Here thought you might need this.” He put the cup of coffee down on the counter, his eyes still dancing with mirth.

  I grunted my thanks and pulled out my Hershey’s Chocolate Caramel creamer from the fridge and set it on the booth across from the galley. Then grabbed the sugar and my coffee cup and walked over and sat down in the booth. I put my three teaspoons of sugar in my cup and stirred before pouring a healthy dose of creamer into the cup stirred, sipped, and sighed.

  “Hmm how about some coffee in your creamer?” Seth asked shaking his head.

  “Smart ass,” I mumbled still sipping on my sugar in a cup. “So where is everyone else at?”

  “They had a radio interview.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “Why aren’t you there?”

  “I was on Skype with Jaks.”

  “Ut-oh, what did he do now?”

  “Brought a frog to school.”

  “Okay?” I asked not getting where that would be a problem, I mean yeah, it could cause a distraction but he’s a boy being a boy.

  “He then tried flushing the frog down the toilet so he could go and commune with nature.”

  I snorted which shot coffee out my nose spraying the table and Seth who had just sat down. He shot me a look, then grabbed a roll of paper towels, pulled a few off, and handed them to me. I covered my face trying to keep any more coffee from leaking out while I chortled. Seth cleaned up the table trying to keep a straight face, but I could tell it was difficult for him.

  “The frog jumped out, somehow got out of the boys’ bathroom and it took three teachers and the principal over half an hour to catch it and bring it outside,” Seth finished.

  I sucked my lip ring in my mouth trying to hold back the giggles. “Why didn’t Devi talk to him?”

  “She couldn’t stop laughing long enough.”

  I rolled my labret with my tongue trying in vain to not start laughing again. I sipped my coffee and nodded.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That we do not bring animals to school.”

  “Uh huh,” I said eyeing him I knew Jaks and I knew there was going to be more.

  “He asked why the school had animal adoption day then.”

  “Seth, you’re in so much trouble.”

  “Trust me, I know,” he groaned.

  “I think I broke the shower,” I told him.

  He thumped his head down on the table again. “Let someone else handle it.”

  I shrugged. “Works for me, wanna watch a movie?”

  Sam

  I, at one point, used to love giving interviews, they were fun, new, and interesting. That lasted maybe six months until I realized that it’s the same questions over and over again. You’d think that they would come up with new material after a while.

  “So Sam,” said Pete, interviewer number one, “you helped write a lot of the songs on the last album, correct?”

  I signed inwardly. “Yeah, Seth and I write the majority of our work.”

  “You also released a new single,” Leah, interviewer number two, commented. “Faith, it has gone up to the number five spot on new releases and number one on iTunes.”

  “Has it?” I asked because honestly I didn’t know.

  She smiled. “It has.”

  “Huh, well that’s always a great thing to hear about.”

  “What is My Misery Muse doing now?” Pete asked.

  “We’re currently finishing up a tour,” Eli answered.

  “The one you had to postpone after your manager was killed?” Leah asked.

  “No, we had fired him before his untimely demise,” X entered smoothly. “The new manager we had hired was in a car accident right after Christmas.”

  “Ah yes, Drake Porter, isn’t he Seth’s brother-in-law?” Leah asked and I could see the gleam in her eye, she thought she would be getting a scoop. Only we’ve been asked and answered this question countless times since announcing Drake being the new manager.

  “He is, but we’ve known him for years. He used to play guitar in our first band,” I said trying to steer them away from where they were trying to go. They all wanted to allude that Drake got the position because of Devi, only that wasn’t the case.

  “He didn’t continue when you formed My Misery Muse?” Pete asked. “Bet he’s kicking himself for that,” he chortled.

  “No, he decided he’d rather do the behind the scenes work,” X slid in. “He went to college and has been working at an indie label for years. As for him regretting staying with the band, I don’t think he does, he’s had a great career helping new musicians find their foothold in the industry. Some of the bands you play on your station wouldn’t be there without him.”

  “You’re playing a show tonight at EnergySolutions Arena here in Salt Lake, correct?” Leah asked.

  “We are,” answered Eli. “We always love playing here in Salt Lake City, you guys are amazing fans.”r />
  “When is the next album coming out?” Leah asked.

  “Sometime in the next year,” I answered.

  “I’ve heard that there was a split from your label, is this why no date is set yet?”

  “Ah no, we haven’t set a date because we’re still working on new material,” I answered Leah and shot X a look. It was time to wrap this up.

  “We look forward to seeing everyone tonight,” X said giving his best groupie grin. I rolled my eyes as Leah bent over giving him a better view of her cleavage.

  I stood and shook hands with Pete while Leah was giving X her phone number. Eli followed and we quickly extricated ourselves out of the booth only to be waylaid by the station’s producer. I grinned and let him lead us off toward another booth where they could record us saying the station’s name. I gritted my teeth through the whole affair and when we were finally released, I nearly ran for the door.

  I stopped and let out an annoyed sigh, the front of the station was barricaded off by police while fans of all ages stood outside screaming.

  “Well this should be fun,” X drawled.

  “Where’s Coop?” I asked looking around for our bodyguard.

  “Calling him now,” Eli said with a phone pressed to his ear.

  “Since were stuck here for a while, why don’t you tell us what happened last night,” X said eyeing me.

  “What do you mean?” I replied only half listening while I checked text messages.

  “When I woke up this morning you looked quite comfortable spooned around Jules,” he said.

  “Nothing happened, we just talked and then fell asleep.”

  “Cooper is looking for an alternate way out,” Eli said walking up.

  “So talking turned into spooning?” Xavier asked with a sly look.

  “Yes, no, she fell asleep when I was on a business call, I guess I fell asleep after that.”

  “Sam just don’t play her okay,” X said quietly.

  “I’d never do that, besides Max has a thing for her.”

 

‹ Prev