by Roberts, EM
She felt a little sorry for Carlos, so she switched the music to a country song she knew he enjoyed and the three of them sang at the top of their lungs about visiting bars and hanging out with less than desirable friends. As they drove along, they spotted one or two infected creatures who raised their heads at the sound of the music and half-heartedly stumbled towards the truck. For a moment, Ella almost felt that same feeling of normalcy she’d had last night. Those were the times to really appreciate.
Chapter 3: The Rock Star’s Final Tour
Jaxon Blackstone leaned down and snorted a line of cocaine from the young man’s ass. As the powder entered his bloodstream, he admired the body part in question. It was a particularly fine ass, indeed. Firm, tanned, and smooth, it was the behind of a man who took care of himself. The young man rolled to his side and gazed adoringly at Jaxon.
“So, you want to do it, or what? If I give a blow job, it’s a hundred dollars. Penetration will cost three hundred, but since you’re Jax Blackstone, I’ll do it for half price.”
Before Jax could answer, a pounding came from the door of his hotel room. He groaned. The cocaine mixed with the three shots of vodka made it hard for him to concentrate. He stood and swayed a little as the room rotated on its axis. Making his way to the door, he looked through the peephole and groaned again. Jonah Wade, his manager stood in the hallway, and he didn’t look happy. Jax opened the door and let the man in.
Jonah stormed into the room and over to the bed.
“Get the fuck out kid. You were never here, and if you say otherwise, you will fucking regret it. I’m talking broken bones-regret it.” Jonah threw an envelope filled with cash on the bed. He grabbed the young man’s clothes, and confiscated his cell phone.
“Dude, you can’t just take my shit,” the young man complained, as he stood naked in all of his glory.
“I’m going to give you exactly two minutes to get your clothes on and get the fuck out. After two minutes that envelope of cash goes away.” Jonah looked at his Rolex.
The prostitute grabbed the envelope and dressed in record time. As he opened the door, he cast a wistful look in Jax’s direction.
Jonah turned on Jax in fury, his gut quivering in anger.
“Seriously? I mean, are you fucking stupid?”
“Man…I,” Jax began, his words slurred.
“Save it. Save your fucking stupid lies and excuses. When we started this thing, I told you the fucking deal, and here you’re trying to ruin it.” Jonah walked wearily to the small desk and sat.
“I just want to be happy. I’m tired of living the lie.” Jax pulled on his jeans and walked over to the balcony window. Many of the people down there envied him and his life. If only they knew…if only they knew.
“Well, you can’t have it both ways. What do you think people would think if they found out you’re a fucking queer?”
“Well, I think it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s different now than it was ten years ago.” Jax didn’t turn around and acknowledge Jonah’s words. He continued to gaze out at the city. He wasn’t even really sure where he was. Yesterday it’d been L.A. Every day, it was a different place and a different hotel. But, they were still really all the same.
“You still have the same fan base. They’re rockers, rednecks, and old school, and those people aren’t gay,” Jonah explained patiently as if he were talking to a small child. He continued, “And cocaine. Are you kidding me? Fucking cocaine? Where did you get the shit? So, I not only have to deal with a prostitute going to the media, but I also have to deal with a drug dealer who’ll sell his story to the press?”
Jax started to get angry. Jonah liked to treat him like an idiot child. Jax often let him because he didn’t want to deal with the hassle of disagreeing. He’d made the man millions of dollars. For fuck’s sake, the man worked for him. Every time he wanted to confront Jonah, he remembered he couldn’t. The man knew too much. He knew about Jax’s sexual preferences, his drug addiction, and other things Jax didn’t want to think about. He was pretty much stuck with Jonah.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, kiddo. You’re going to order some coffee and drink it. You’ve got two hours before the show, and your ass better sober up. I’m going down to the front desk and report that a crazy fan got into your room and tell them how pissed you are about it.”
Jax watched the little man leave. He and Jax made an odd pair. Jonah was short, squat, and oily looking. The few strands of hair he had left were combed over to hide his bald spot. He wore a pair of thick bifocals that constantly left indentations in his nostrils. And, to Jax’s detriment, the man always smelled like garlic. Jax didn’t know if he ate it with every meal, or if he took some kind of garlic pill. Either way, the stench was so strong that Jax tried to maintain his distance from the man. Apart from his appearance and odor, Jonah was an agent who didn’t take shit, and he cut the deals. Jax couldn’t criticize the man’s business skills.
Jax, on the other hand, was tall and lanky. He stood 6’4 inches in his sock feet and could actually stand to gain a few pounds. When Jax had first started this game, he’d had plenty of muscle tone, but as the years passed, his affinity for drugs and alcohol turned him into a gaunt, skinny creature. Oh, he was still considered handsome by men and women alike which he supposed was partly based on his profession and fame. He’d known some butt ugly rock stars who excelled in getting laid. Women liked rock stars. It was a fact of life in this game. Jax’s dark, curly black hair and deep blue eyes had graced the covers of multiple magazines and walls, turning him into a sex symbol. It was a role he hadn’t really cared for.
He’d forgone stylists and hairdressers this tour. He’d told Jonah it was because he preferred to dress himself, but he Jonah knew the real reason. Jax didn’t want a lot of people around because he didn’t want any questions or witnesses to his personal life. He was getting pretty sick and tired of living a lie. He didn’t care about success anymore. He had enough money to retire and live comfortably for the rest of his life. The problem was that Jonah didn’t and Jax was his cash cow. Jonah liked to live the expensive life style, buying Rolex’s, fast cars, and nice houses. He blew through cash fast. But, at thirty years old, Jax was ready to finally live his life, and he somehow had to make Jonah see it.
Jax had known he was gay ever since his high school days. Growing up in a little town in Minnesota, being gay was worse than being a devil worshipper. So, he’d gone out with the girls and acted tough with the guys, all the while knowing he didn’t fit in. His father and his mother still didn’t get it. They still thought he was going to marry some young woman and settle down with a passel of kids. He knew better.
He really didn’t expect people to accept his lifestyle especially when he didn’t really accept it himself. Being gay went against all of his beliefs, but how could he hide and not accept his true nature? He wasn’t fighting for gay rights which made him sound almost hypocritical. He assumed this was because he’d never really found anyone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He guessed he would change his mind if that ever happened. He just tried to stay away from it all.
There’d been plenty of one night stands throughout his career with men he’d met at bars and men he’d met through various close friends who knew his sexual identity. There’d also been plenty of cash paid out and threats made to hush up stories about his sexuality. There were rumors, but Jonah always dispelled them by connecting Jax to some hot model or actress.
He’d been discovered at the age of twenty after his band received moderate success on the L.A. club circuit. Having moved there after high school, Jax and a couple of friends formed a band and worked as valet attendants during the day. They’d partied and played hard. The same two guys were still in his band and were two of the few people who knew his secret. He really loved those guys, and he never tired of letting them know how much he appreciated their friendship.
Jonah had discovered the band, and from there it’d been a whirlwind. His first album had garn
ered him a Grammy, and every album since had surpassed his expectations. He had more money than he knew what to do with. He was famous and in the prime of his life, but he didn’t have the one thing he craved…love. Money couldn’t buy him love. Wasn’t that an old song or something?
Two hours later, he ran out onto the stage of Beltway Arena to a sold out crowd of 20,000 screaming fans. He’d found out from Jonah that he was in St. Louis, Missouri. How he’d missed the Gateway Arch, he didn’t know. He guessed it was due to the fact he’d been wasted out of his mind when he’d arrived yesterday. That was just the way it was. That was his life. Limos, chauffeurs, drugs, and hotels. It was a never ending cycle.
“Hello, St. Louis!! You guys ready to rock? I know I am. This first song is an oldie, so sing it with us!” he yelled into the mike, the energy of the crowd surging through him.
Dark nights, steamy lights, you run your hand down my thigh.
I want, I need, I know you’re the one.
When I say, I want you, I mean it.
When I say, I need you, I mean it.
Baby, I wanna rock and roll with you.
The crowd screamed and sang along with the lyrics. Jax smiled. This was the part of his job he loved the most. The crowd, the lights, and the energy all made him feel like this whole thing was worth it. He loved being a performer. It gave him a rush a million times stronger than any drug. It was after the performance when he wasn’t feeling this that he needed the drugs.
He performed a couple of songs from his new album and couple more from his previous albums. He could do this all night, he thought in satisfaction. He wasn’t tired at all. Wired up, he bounced around the stage and gyrated to the music. It drove the crowd wild.
Right when he started to go into a new song, he noticed a commotion at the front of the stage. Two men were on the floor, rolling around. Jax rolled his eyes. It was about that time of the night when shit started. Beer, pot, and other drugs were making their way through the crowd. It only took an accidental elbow here or there to set one of the crowd off. People suddenly became braver when they’d drunk a few beers. Security would take care of it, he thought as he made his way over and rocked out with the bass player. The two of them clicked like they always did, always had.
Making his way back across stage, he noticed the fight had become bigger. There were now about five participants. For just a second, he thought he saw the sight of blood. Squinting against the stage lights, he realized there was a lot of blood. In fact, two of the fans had blood on their faces. Jax stopped singing and the band awkwardly stopped playing. He glanced around the stadium and saw there were other groups of people fighting. He looked at the end of the stage for Jonah who was frantically waving at him. Jax sprinted off stage.
“Man, what’s going on? Are the people crazy or what tonight?” Jax asked breathlessly.
“Fuck, I don’t know what’s going on. All I know is security is trying to get it under control. I’m going to announce a fifteen minute break. Go to your dressing room, and I’ll come get you.” Jonah walked out onto the stage and met the booing head on. If there was one thing good about Jonah, it was that he truly did try to take care of Jax. He might be tough about it, and he might only be doing it for the money, but he always knew what worked and what didn’t.
“We’ve got a little situation up front, and security’s handling it. Please stay in your seats because the show will continue in about fifteen minutes,” Jax heard Jonah yell to the crowd.
“This would be a good time to go get those concert tees,” he added and Jax laughed. Jonah was always marketing something.
In the dressing room, Jax pulled the small baggie from his pocket. If he only did one line, then he was sure he could make it through the rest of the set. The drug would just give him enough energy to do it without making him too out of his mind. He cut a line, snorted it, and lay down on the couch provided with the dressing room. He looked around. It was standard fare with flowers, gift baskets, water, and other treats the facility thought he might enjoy. They’d asked for a list, but he really didn’t care what was provided. The only thing he wanted was some vodka and smack. He wasn’t like some of those pop divas who asked for a specific brand of water or requested certain gourmet foods that they’d never touch. He was low key and low maintenance. Water was water, for fuck’s sake.
Someone bumped against the door. He hoped it wasn’t some young girl who’d snuck past security. He was so tired of having to act flattered and fawn over his female fans. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate them—he did. It was just getting harder and harder for him to put on a show. He loved them, but he didn’t find them attractive. He was tired of being groped and stalked. He knew it was part of the job, but after ten years, it was starting to wear on his nerves. He really wasn’t cut out to be famous, he guessed. He loved to make music, and he loved the crowds. He couldn’t have his cake and eat it too, he guessed. Speaking of cake..he looked around for a snack.
The door thudded again, and Jax heard a muffled groan. Shit! This was probably some ploy to get him to come to the door where he be besieged by some lovestruck fan who wanted him to autograph her tits or her panties. Fuck it, he wasn’t getting up. He much preferred to lean back and enjoy his buzz. He didn’t even care about the cake now. He crossed his ankles and imagined he was somewhere far away where he didn’t have to worry about Jonah’s bitching, crazed fans, or lying about himself.
The door shook violently on its hinges. Jesus, this dude wasn’t giving up. Jax jumped to his feet and stormed over to the door. He yanked it open, surprised to see Jonah standing in the hallway, blood smeared on his face and hands. The man swayed lightly on his feet as Jax grabbed Jonah by his shoulders and pulled him into the room.
“Jonah, man, what the fuck’s happening out there?” Jax questioned as he grabbed a towel and started wiping at the man’s face. The blood smeared the pristine white of the towel.
“Mmmmph, rrrr,” Jonah replied, lunging at Jax, his eyes red and malicious looking.
Jax nimbly jumped back, tripping over a suitcase in his effort to get away. His teeth snapping, Jonah again lunged at Jax again. Regaining his balance, he stepped quickly out of the way. This back and forth game of tag was getting ridiculous.
What the hell was going on here? Through his euphoric, drugged stage, Jax was aware that something was truly wrong with Jonah. He grabbed his cell phone and quickly dialed 911 even as he made various maneuvers to avoid Jonah’s snapping jaws and reaching hands.
All circuits are busy. Please try your call again.
Seriously? What the fuck? He flung the phone down. Maybe he could try and restrain Jonah. He looked around, spying a blanket on the couch. He’d once had to corner an injured cat, and he’d done this very thing. Grabbing it, he threw it over his manager’s head. Jonah stumbled around trying to lose the object. Jax grabbed him around the shoulders and held him. What to do now? He needed something for binding the man. He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted a long scarf, one of his few obsessions. He’d been accused of emulating Steven Tyler, and now he was thankful he had. Grabbing it, he shoved Jonah into the chair in front of the mirror. He tied the man to the chair with the scarf. All the while he was doing this, Jonah continued to thrash and grunt.
Jax looked around wildly for something else to bind the man’s feet. Pulling his belt from his pant, he made a loop around Jonah’s feet and the rung of the chair. Hopefully that would hold him for a while. With Jonah somewhat restrained, Jax retrieved his cell phone and tried emergency services again.
All circuits are busy. Please hang up and try again.
He turned around after another failed call. Jax ran to the chair just as Jonah slipped from the scarf binding his upper body to the chair. Retrieving the scarf, Jax used it this time to bind the man’s bloody hands which he thought he probably should have done in the first place. Hell, he wasn’t any good in a crisis. Jax usually had people taking care of and picking up after him not the other way around.
>
He crossed to the door and looked out into the hall. It was quiet. Behind him he heard the crash of the chair as Jonah toppled it to the floor. Looking back, he could see the man flopping around in his bindings. He stepped out and walked the long corridor down to the stage entrance. He could hear screams and shouts from the audience. Jax looked out from the side of the stage and was appalled. The crowd had turned into a riot of people fighting and bleeding. He could see fans biting and ripping chunks from each other while others ran to the exits. It was pandemonium. A young man in a black leather jacket and jeans ran up to him.
“Man, you gotta get out of here. Those people are crazy. I even sound crazy for saying it, but they’re acting like zombies. You know, like eat each other, zombies.”
“Where’s security? Have you seen the band?” Jax asked the young man he now recognized as Will, a roadie for the band. He was concerned for the band’s safety. He hadn’t thought to stop by their dressing room.
“Jonah told them to leave. He was coming to get you. Did you see him?”
“Yeah, and he’s infected with whatever this thing is. I need to get him to a doctor,” Jax replied, dialing 911 for a third time. The same recorded response came through reminding him that all circuits were busy.
“Dude, whatever he’s got is pretty freaking bad, judging from that audience. Jonah would be the first to say that you gotta get outtta here,” Will exclaimed, grabbing Jax’s hand and dragging him from the stage. Jax allowed himself to be led down the hall. He didn’t know what else he was supposed to do.
The two men ran down the hall and toward the back exit. Upon stepping out into the night, Jax could see the band’s tour bus wasn’t going anywhere. Traffic was at a standstill and people were milling about everywhere. Some were bleeding, while others were stumbling around, looking much like Jonah had.
