by T Gephart
“The one that said we were doing four shows with you. A bunch of fine print BS I didn’t read, but basically unless we fucked up, we are your NYC band.”
Rusty confirmed what I already assumed. Four show deal. Angie had no intention of filling the rest of the dates. Why the hell would she throw away an opportunity like that? I knew exactly why she’d throw away an opportunity like that. Yeah, and it wasn’t sitting well with me.
“So you didn’t know about our offer?”
“What offer? More cities?” Rusty’s shrug more evidence that he had no idea what had been put on the table.
Angie had invited them to dinner but was only going to let them have appetizers and now here I was offering them the opportunity to stay all the way to dessert. I probably should have felt bad, going behind her back. And yet, my conscience was clear. If you wanted to get technical, I was just merely disclosing information that should have already been shared. Yeah, let’s pretend like she wouldn’t want to rip my balls off when she found out. Honestly, the thought of her hand on my balls made me smile. I really was a sick bastard.
“All dates, all cities. The offer was the whole tour.”
“Huh?” Rusty’s eyes got wide as I saw the mental cogs in his head ticking. “The whole thing?”
“Yes, James, Alex, Troy, they hadn’t had the same reservations I’d had about you guys.” I figured some backstory about how they’d came onto our radar would be helpful. Shake off some of the holy-shit that was floating around. “Lexi our—”
“Yeah, we know who Lexi is.” He didn’t give me a chance to finish. “She is trying to get us to sign, said she can get us a deal.”
“Yeah well, her interest in you and Troy’s recommendation had pretty much sealed the deal. Of course your performance tonight spoke for itself, they were right on the money.”
“So, let’s go around this one more time. The offer was for the whole enchilada but we only signed on for New York.” Rusty proved he was a quick study by following right along with me. No doubt having some serious questions for his front woman/girlfriend. Not sure how I wanted that to go.
“Angie hadn’t been as excited on the offer as the guys had hoped. We thought she might come around.”
Oh she’d been excited, excited to tell us to shove it, but I didn’t think that it would add anything to the argument so chose to paraphrase.
“Dude, listen. Me and you are cool, I’ve got no beef with you. Sure we didn’t really know each other back in the day, but from what I remember you seemed like a stand-up guy. But this divide and conquer shit, isn’t the way we run our band. Straight-up, what are your motives here?”
So I guess he was smarter than I thought.
“You’ve known Angie for a while, right?”
“Yeah, since tenth grade.”
“You and her …”
Dating? Fucking? Not sure which of the words I was looking for. Neither word seemed to want to come out of my mouth when it came to her. We’d already established that for some reason the thought of Angie and another dude poked my inner Godzilla. Seriously need a handle on that ASAP.
“Dude, please don’t make me fucking punch you right now. Like for real, I know I’m a guy and stuff, but that hitting each other and other macho bullshit gives me a headache. I’m a lover not a fighter, but if you start being disrespectful about Angie I’m going to have to lay you out. I won’t enjoy it, but I will fucking do it.” He squared off, ready to engage if he needed. At least she wasn’t dating a pussy. That was a small consolation.
“Trust me, disrespectful is the last thing I am trying to be. There’s some shit that went down in our past, Angie and me. I don’t want to start shit between you two if you were…a thing.”
Thing was such a shitty word but what else was there? If you two are together? It’s not like they were sharing class rings. Why the hell couldn’t I just say the fucking words? Angie had every right to fuck other dudes. Why was this shit messing with my head so much?
“You worried I was going to get territorial, thinking you were going to mack on my girl?”
“Look, you don’t have to worry about me trying to put the moves on your girl. Whatever happened between us is ancient history.”
The chances of me putting the moves on were laughable at best. Considering she shot me death stares every time she looked at me, I’d say us getting busy were … yeah, last time I checked it still wasn’t snowing in hell.
“No, Angie and I aren’t dating. Never have. She’s my best friend but bumping uglies isn’t our thing.”
Not that the new piece of info should have ranked on my give-a-shit meter one way or another, but it did. The reason why that little nugget made me smile was still a mystery but I would tuck it away for later. Like perhaps when I came to my senses and realized Angie’s dating status wasn’t any of my business.
“Yeah, well then maybe you can talk her around. I’m not sure why she doesn’t want to take up our offer but me trying to convince her isn’t going to do it.”
Well wasn’t that a lie if ever I heard one. Pretty sure the reason she wasn’t interested was what stared at me in the face when I looked in the mirror.
“So you want me to run interference.”
Bingo. The boy had skills, let’s see him put them to use and convince our girl she needed to play ball. Wait? Our girl? What the fuck? His girl.
“I’m not saying blindside her, just maybe talk about what the tour could do for the band. Get her to think of the big picture.”
My motives were pretty clear. Angie. Tour. End of story. But I could see that while Rusty wasn’t dating her, they had this whole watch each other’s back thing going on. The asshole in me also knew that Angie wouldn’t want to disappoint her buddy either. Two birds, one stone and all that.
“You know.” Rusty took a long exhale before eyeballing me. “One thing I do remember about the good ole days was the huge crush Angie had on you. Then all of a sudden, nothing. Like she just got over you. That wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it?”
Yep, it took him about ten seconds to join the dots.
“That’s probably something you should ask her.”
“Yeah, sure nothing shady about that answer.” Rusty rolled his eyes.
“Please, just talk to her.” And maybe clue me in when you do.
“Oh I’ll talk to her, but not because you want me to.”
“Whatever it takes.”
While the boys had stuck around after Power Station had finished, I had high-tailed it out of the arena. Best decision I’d ever made.
After our set, Max had recognized one of the guys who were mixing the show so we had sat at the sound desk and watched the show with the crew. Not only was it cool to see it from there, but it also meant there was zero chance of running into the band. Because running into Jason once was more than enough for one night. Who cares if he still looked like he could bench a Ford Focus? I bet he was still ripped under that shirt too. The ink he’d added since the last time also did an awesome job of making those arms look hot.
Stop.
It didn’t matter how much he resembled an action figure, we were not going there. There was trouble. I had already been there, remember?
Ugh! I hated him so much.
“Hey, you know that tune and lube sign at the front is very distracting. I’m not sure if I should be popping my hood or looking for a happy ending.” Rusty pushed open the door of the shop. The bells jingled to announce his arrival as he strode through the doorway, his eyes still a little bloodshot from the late night.
“I’m pretty sure we have a shop vac out the back, the sign below it says satisfaction is guaranteed.” I couldn’t help but yawn. It had been next to impossible to get sleep last night. And if I was honest with myself, it hadn’t only been the buzz from the concert that had kept me tossing and turning through the early hours of the morning.
“You didn’t even blink. It’s not the first time you’ve been asked, is it?” He loo
ked disappointed. Like anything that could come out of his mouth would shock me.
“Nope, not even close.”
“So let me ask you something?”
With Rusty that something could have been anything. He had issues with boundaries so it very easily could have been either extremely rude or ridiculous. He’d asked me for tampons once for a nosebleed.
“Sure.” I hoped this conversation wasn’t going to be to out there considering we were both sleep deprived.
“Do you remember that day we went out to Coney Island and we rode the Cyclone until you puked?”
Ummmmm. What? I had absolutely no idea where this conversation was going.
“Yeah, of course I do. It was my eighteenth birthday, and to be fair I was hung over. I can handle my coasters thank you.”
“You play it out in your head however you want to, babe, but that day your ass got owned.” Rusty broke into a smile.
That day had been terrible. He had assumed it had been the half bottle of vodka I had drunk the night before that had made me sick. True, I was a lightweight back then and even a ride on the bus would have made me nauseous, but the real kicker had been something else. Like waking up beside the guy you supposedly loved and have him thank you for the good time, and leave you like you were nothing special. Gah! I pushed that bullshit away from my mind.
“Okay, so, is this a weird way of suggesting we go to Coney Island? ’Cause I have to work and I’m not really in the mood.”
“I was just thinking about that day.” Rus leaned up against the counter, his eyes on me as he spoke. “Thinking about the reason why I had dragged your ass to Brooklyn in the first place. You had been crying that morning about the one-night stand you’d had the night before. Older guy who you thought was into you but turned out to be an asshole. What was his name again?”
Crap. Did he know? How could he know? I never told a freaking soul. It’s not like the embarrassment that I had allowed myself to be used like a groupie hadn’t been enough. I didn’t want anyone else to know. That would have just added to my mortification.
“Ummm. I think we decided his name was going to be asshole.” I had chosen some other names for him too, but those were for my private collection. They included a lot of swear words, with so many colorful variations.
“Yeah, funny how I never made the connection between asshole-one-night-stand and you suddenly losing interest in Jason Irwin of the Power Station variety. It all kind of happened around the same time, weird huh? That’s some crazy ass coincidence.”
He knew.
That lying, cock-sucking spawn of evil—see, variation—must have opened his big fucking mouth.
“You deduce this theory all by yourself Sherlock Holmes or is someone filling your head with fanciful ideas?” Someone being a bastard otherwise known as Jason Irwin or Dick-face, see another variation.
“So is that the reason why you didn’t tell me that we were offered all the dates on the tour?”
He didn’t blink. His focus was locked on mine as a flicker of hurt flashed in his eyes, catching me in my lie. Sure, I could dress it up in my head as something else, omission perhaps. But in the end, I had never told any of them the whole tour was a possibility. How could I? I knew the minute I did, they would be falling over themselves wanting to sign straight on the dotted line. There would be no questions asked, and they wouldn’t have even wanted to hear the reason why we shouldn’t. Not that any of those reasons really made any sense, not if I was really honest.
“Rus—” I swallowed, disappointed in myself.
“Look, I’m not mad that you lied.” Rusty raked his hands through his hair in frustration. “Couldn’t give a fuck, and I remember how much that asshole messed with your head. I was there, watching you cry because he made you feel like a cheap slut.”
I blinked at his harsh words but he hadn’t been wrong. That’s exactly how it had felt. “And I’ll owe you for that.”
“You don’t owe me shit. I did it because that’s what we do. We’re there for each other. But, we are going to do this tour.”
There was no hesitation in his voice. And while there was no anger either, he had made up his mind, and there wouldn’t be a thing I could say that would sway him.
It was lame to even attempt to convince him otherwise, but I couldn’t help myself to try. “I’m not sure that’s the right decision for the band. We’d have to give up our jobs. It’s not even enough time to give notice—”
“Oh come on, Angie.” He interrupted me, throwing his hands up in the air for dramatics. “I sell used cars for a living. You think Archie is going to give a fuck if tomorrow he has to get some other sucker to pimp his used Chevys?”
Silence.
When I didn’t answer he continued. “Yeah, and they are going to miss Max at Staples too. Who the hell is going to run all those print jobs? I can hear the reams of copying paper weeping now. And as for Joey, I don’t even know what the fuck he does.” His brow crinkled in confusion. “Does he even have a job?”
“He’s a valet.” Well at least he was this week. He’d been a bus boy last month, and a waiter at TGI’s the month before.
“He’s a fucking valet? Fuck me, they let him park cars? Have they seen his ride? The only straight panel on that thing is the back seat. We’d be doing them a favor by taking him.”
“You practice that speech on the way over here?” I folded my arms across my chest.
“Yeah I did, was it too dramatic? It’s tough to find the balance.” Rusty’s mouth curled into a smile.
“Nah, it was ok. Throwing in the cheap slut was a little harsh though. You might want to work on that for next time, go for something less offensive.”
“Yeah, noted. I got caught up in the moment.”
My arms relaxed as I unfurled them, my hand reaching across, needing to touch him. “I know we should do this, and I know it was so long ago.” No one wanted more than I did for it to be left in the past, the memories still burning me as much as they did back then. “But he broke my heart, Rusty. I thought I loved him. I chased him around for an entire summer, and it wasn’t just one sided. He encouraged it. He let me believe that he felt something toward me too, and then he slept with me. Of course once he got what he wanted he couldn’t run fast enough. It really messed with my head.”
More like broke me. My first boyfriend had cheated on me because I hadn’t been a good lay, and then the only guy I had ever really loved screwed me and left. It didn’t sell the virtues of a relationship to me, or do wonders for my self-esteem. “I know I’m being selfish, and that we should do this.” Please don’t make me do this, I wanted to beg.
“We need to do this, Angie. You have to make it right in your head so we can.” His voice was soft, but I could tell he wouldn’t be bending.
“It’s the best thing for the band. I know.” The words felt tight in my throat. The last thing I wanted to do was punish them for my own mistakes.
“The band?” Rus screwed up his face in disgust. “You think I’m telling you we need to do this for the band? Fuck. That. The band will do what it’s going to do, and we will stand behind you, always. This is about you.”
“Me?” My voice squeaked in surprise. How could it be about me?
“Yeah, this is about you. Middle finger in the air, giving him a big fuck you. He doesn’t get to break you, Angie. No man is ever allowed to do that.” His face became more animated as he waved his hands around. “You need to Taylor Swift his ass. I’ve got a blank space, baby.”
“Taylor Swift his ass?” I laughed. No one else but Rusty would have been able to make me laugh at a time like this. “Rus, do you even know what that song is about? It’s a fuck you about how everyone fixates on her ex-boyfriends, not at the boyfriends themselves.”
“Whatever, a fuck you was extended, was it not? You’re missing my point.” He shrugged, with a smile added for extra effect. “You get on that stage, you show him what the hell you’re made of. Hell, channel that shit into
a song, the crowd will love it.”
“So I’m just supposed to decimate him on stage?” Had to admit, the idea wasn’t entirely bad. My smile returned at the thought of telling the world how horrible he was. It’s not like I was lying—he was horrible, even if he did look delicious.
“Hells yes and we’ll release it on iTunes, make a ton of money. It will make you feel better, trust me.” Rusty took the idea, and as usual, ran with it.
“Making a ton of money from my buried hurt isn’t going make me feel better.”
“No, of course not. Showing him what a dumbass he was every night in front of thousands of people, and the fuck you you’ll be giving him, will. The money will make me feel better, and I make you feel better so it gets us full circle.”
“You going to draw me a diagram?” I laughed.
“If it gets us over the line.”
“You’ve got it all figured out.” I sighed. He was right. I couldn’t even argue with him. I needed to move on, not to prove it to Jason, but to prove to myself that I was stronger than I thought.
“Yep, so you telling the guys or am I? We all need to quit our jobs. Oh and I’m writing the rider. We need blue M&Ms at every show, and Doritos. Someone needs to make it happen.” He smacked his hands together in excitement.
“I need to talk to my dad.” My excitement significantly lower than Rusty’s at the prospect of telling my dad I would be leaving. “I’m not sure how that’s going to go.”
“Talk to me about what?” Pops emerged from the work bays, his timing perfect. Or not, as the case may be.
“Hey, Pops.” I forced the smile. It looked like the conversation was going to happening sooner, rather than later.
“Hey, Pops,” Rusty echoed.
“Please don’t call me, Pops, Rusty. It makes my ulcer flare up.” He tapped Rusty across the back of the head—his usual greeting for Rus—before turning to me. “So what’s on your mind, sweetheart?”
“Maybe you should go, Rus?” My head jerked toward the door, which translated into, I needed to do this alone.
