by Mj Fields
Copyright © MJ Fields 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of MJ Fields, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
1st Edition Published:
Published by MJ Fields 2015
Cover Design by: K23 Design
Cover Model: Michael Fagone
Photographer: Shauna Kruse
First Edit by: C&D
Final Edit by: Kellie Montgomery
Formatting by: IndieVentions
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*Disclaimer*
This book contains mature content not suitable for those under the age of 18. It involves strong language and sexual situations. All parties portrayed in sexual situations are consenting adults over the age of 18.
Table of Contents
Prologue
The Band
Julliard
Final set as opening act…
No more…
Sex, sex, and more sex
Just Me
Beach Babes
Next Steps
Fireball
Hung Over
The Woodshed
No Bang Bang
A Walk on the Wild Side
Disarray
POW! Exposed
What’s your emergency?
Hydrate, rest, heal
Coming Undone
Not Like Him
The Return
All Work No Play
Scheduled
Dolphins be damned
Feast
Stage Ready
Not Ready
Surface to Soul
Epilogue
Thank You
About the Author
More from MJ Fields
Connect with MJ Fields
I look in the mirror one last time, noticing my hair is longer on top than it is on the sides. The gel I use to style it makes it look messy and black instead of dark brown. With my black boots, I stand at six-foot-three, and having spent an hour at the gym every night after school, I finally have great definition. I’m stage ready.
I walk out on stage with my guitar strung around my neck, pick in hand, waiting for the nerves to consume me. But they don’t.
Why? Because I’m a damn legend; that’s why. The stadium is sold out, and the crowd is going wild.
“Hello, New Jersey!” I hold the mic out for the crowd’s roar, and they give me exactly what I want.
“I am Memphis Black, lead singer and guitarist extraordinaire for—” Fuck, I hate this part. What the hell is the band’s name?
“Black Hawks,” my sister Madison whispers.
“The Black Hawks!” I yell to the crowd.
“That name is so lame.” I hear my sister’s friend Tally giggle.
“You two, out.”
“No, you said, if we videotaped this, you would—”
“Out!”
“Come on, it’s our first dance. We need to learn how!” Madison stomps her foot.
“Well, you didn’t hold up your end of the deal, now did you?” I lift the guitar strap over my head.
“Come on, please,” Madison says with huge eyes.
“Yeah, please,” Tally joins her.
I consider telling them to fuck off, but they would tell Mom. I consider a simple no, but they’d tell her that, too. Therefore, I choose the safest answer.
“Fine. But you both have to shut the hell up.”
Tally covers her mouth, looking horrified. The girl is a train wreck in epic, adolescent proportion. She has kinky brown curls and a ribbon always wrapped around her head. Freckles bridge her nose and dot her face, and she always wears cartoon character T-shirts. Today, it’s Care Bears.
“What now, Tales?” I huff.
“You said—”
“Hell?” I laugh.
She giggles again. “Yeah, you did.”
“You know what? I think the both of you should just stay home. All freshman girls do at a dance is stand in a corner, giggle, and look like dweebs.” I look at my sister. “Mads, if a boy asks you to dance, you’ll start laughing and snorting.” Next, I point at her friend. “Tall, you’ll get some big-ass grin.” I roll my eyes when she covers her mouth again. The little girl can’t handle a curse word to save her life. “Just keep smiling and laughing, and they’ll think there’s something wrong up in those crazy heads of yours. Besides, you’re both in that—I don’t know—the awkward stage: braces, boobs just budding …”
Tally covers her mouth again, while Madison starts to get really pissed off.
“I mean, look at that hair. Mads, you’re so used to wearing a ball cap you have permanent hat head. And you—” I can’t resist taking one more shot at Tally—“how the hell are you gonna get a comb through that kinky mess before Saturday?”
That’s when Madison finally screams for Mom. Tally just looks at me like that cat from the cartoon, the one with the big, green guy. Shrek? Yeah, Shrek. Puss, Puss in Boots. That’s what her face looks like.
Looking back at her, I almost feel kind of bad for giving them a hard time.
Mom comes in then and gives me the third degree. She tells me, “Girls are sensitive when they’re going through changes,” and that I should ‘be more thoughtful.’
Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
“Okay, Mom, fine. I will buy into their little girl fantasies about that girl with the blue dress, the one with the mice that turn into horses—”
“Cinderella.” In spite of herself, my mom laughs.
“Yeah, her.”
Her face goes from amused to suspicious. “What exactly are they doing in your room, anyway?”
“They were supposed to be taping my performance.”
I try not to smile as she gives me that look. I know exactly what she’s about to say: that my rock star fantasies are just as lame as some dumb fairytale with talking mice.
“It’s not the same thing, Mom. This is my dream, something I can actually make into a career one day.”
“I know, Memphis.” She pats my back, smiling. “But maybe their dream is to dance.”
“What do you mean, ‘we need a new name’?” I ask Nick DeAngelo.
Nick, or Nickie D as we call him, our manager, crosses his arms, the black ink on his dark skin peeking out from under his shirtsleeve. “Steel is used in everything now: the popularity of the tattoo shop, the business, the—”
“Not our fault no one else has an ounce of creativity.” Finn stands up, pulls his knit cap down to his eyebrows, pushes his dark hair to the side away from his eyes, and starts pacing. “I mean, really, what the fuck is wrong with people? Get your own shit.”
I back him up. “Steel is where it all began. It means something to us, Nick. And to Xavier, to—”
“His wife, Taelyn.” River wiggles his eyebrows.
River, our drummer, adores our boss’s wife. He should. She saved his ass from being kicked out at least ten times due to his inability to stay sober for more than ten damn minutes.
“Keep Steel, then.” Nick throws his hands up. “Just make it different.”
“Better,” Finn snarls. “Fuckers.”
Nick looks at his watch. “I have a meeting to get to. You guys put your creative minds together and come up with something. But don’t take too long. This tour is gonna happen. Hell, it is happening. We just need a strong name. Something Steel, but—”
River grabs his junk through his torn up jeans. “Deeper.”
“Much deeper.” Finn reaches over to give River a fist bump.
“Balls deep,” I join in, making it a three-way fist bump explosion.
Nick shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, but ‘Balls Deep’ isn’t gonna fly, boys. Keep brainstorming and shoot me a text. Then I need to get T-shirts and merch’ rolling.”
“Do we get a cut of that?” River asks.
“River, the money is used to help cover the band’s expenses.” With that, Nick walks out the door without a backward glance.
Once he’s out of earshot, we all look at each other.
“We’re sticking with Steel,” I declare.
“Hell yes, we are,” Finn and River chime in together.
“Steel Rocks?” Finn suggests.
“Lame.” Even as I say it, I know River agrees.
“Steel Destruction,” I try, and we all look at each other, speculating. “Bad ass, right?”
“Yeah, but it needs to be totally bad ass, without question, man. Has to be totally fucking us, totally fucking hard, and hot. Just like our music.”
I laugh. “Steel Total Destruction?”
No one says a word; we all just stare at each other.
After a while, River nods. “That’s right. We’ll go so hard, we’ll make anything else look like shit.”
“Ruin it for all the other fucks out there,” Finn adds. “Tear shit up.”
I like where this is headed.
“So, we’re set. We are now ‘Steel Total Destruction’?” I wait for the vote to carry.
“Fuck yes, we are.”
“I’m sending Nick a text.”
I chuckle evilly to myself as I type: WE WILL BE ‘STEEL TOTAL DESTRUCTION,’ THE BADDEST ASSES OUT THERE, GIVING RESPECT TO THE MAN WHO FOUND US.
Not even five seconds later, Nick messages back that he loves it.
“He’s in.” I laugh out loud.
“What’s so funny, man?” River asks.
“Not a damn thing.” I shake my head, laughing inside. Killer fucking name.
***
I wake up to my phone squawking with last night’s audition grumbling, lying bare-assed next to me. Still half asleep, I grab my phone, read the message, and push her off me.
First things first. I stumble out of my room in search of some ibuprofen and a gallon of water to get rid of the hellish hangover I’m sporting. Finn is still awake, writing, and River is asleep in his room with the Bobbsey Twins. Not really twins, but Finn felt inspired. Apparently, the treat he brought home wasn’t as important as the lyrics running inside his head, so River got two for the price of one.
“You get a text, too?” I ask Finn after popping the pills.
“Yes.” He doesn’t even bother to look up. “I just need ten more minutes. This is coming together perfectly.” He reaches for the bottle of Firewater sitting next to him and takes a swig.
“Finn, your liver’s gonna be pissed at you, man,” I say over my shoulder as I head toward the bathroom.
There’s no damn way I could do that shit: drink all night, get no sleep, eat no food, score no pussy, and still be awake in the morning, writing. He’s crazy.
***
Saturday morning, we walk into Forever Four, our label’s headquarters, for an impromptu meeting. None of us are feeling it. The whole way over, Finn and River were trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
As soon as the door opens and I hear Xavier Steel’s voice booming from the conference lounge, and I know what is up. But fuck if I’m gonna let them know that I know.
“He sounds pissed, man.” River’s eyebrows are sky high. “His wife is probably not giving it up since I’m sure she is just waiting to tell him she’s in love with me. She’s going to leave his ass for mine. Of course, I’d try to talk her out of it. Out of respect and shit.”
I chuckle. “You’d cream yourself if she ever gave you the time of day.” Taelyn Steel is hot, red-haired, tall, thin, and totally in love with her husband, exactly like he is with her. We just allow River this little, indulgent fantasy. It’s not hurting a damn thing… and it pisses X-man off, which is always funny.
“I would have brought her on board, let her feel my beat.” River cringes. “But she has a kid now.”
Whatever. Fucker loves that woman. I know damn well he would hit it and try to keep it.
“They’re kids,” Nick is saying. It sounds like he’s trying to calm the X-man down.
“That’s just stupid shit, Nick!” X sounds pissed, more pissed than I have ever heard him and I’ve heard him pissed. “Between you and Rico, neither of you thought I should know? How many thousands were spent on these fucking shirts and hats and—”
“Slow the fuck down, X. One damn question at a time.” Nick’s laugh is awkwardly placed. “First, you are the one who said the name needed more.”
“More, yes. But this shit?”
“Rico’s design is sick, man.” Nick’s tone is calm now. “And you got my text and said ‘sounds good,’ so your stamp of approval is on this shit, too. No time to change it. This starts tomorrow if they agree.”
“They’d better fucking agree. They’d better also realize that the way this company works is shit gets paid back before the royalties start getting doled out. Assuming they get a huge cut, they just completely fucked us all with this stunt.”
“I disagree.” I walk in, wearing my business face.
“What the hell is he talking about?” River follows me in and grabs one of the T-shirts off the table. “This is sick.”
He holds it up against himself as Finn and I sit, turning our attention to River like he’s working the center pole at a strip club. He takes the black tee with the grey, crackled circle enclosing the different shades of reds and oranges spelling out our band’s name as he dry humps the air and rubs it down his front.
“Sick is right!” Xavier doesn’t look or sound impressed. “You tell me, River, how well do you think you’re gonna do at the after parties with the ladies sporting one of those T-shirts?”
“I always do well with the ladies.” River drops the shirt and plops down next to Finn.
“Are you high?” Xavier scowls at him.
“Just a few hits this morning.” He shrugs. “Just pot, though. Not the other stuff.”
This is good considering River was shooting up when Xavier found him and then he had a coke habit for a while after that.
Exasperated, Xavier throws his hands up. “Nick, we aren’t ready for this shit in three days.” He points at the three of us. “You guys want this about as much as anyone wants”—he holds up the shirt—“a fucking STD.”
“People love rock, X.” River picks up the shirt again and looks at it, paying attention to the details for the first time, and his smile disappears. “That shit’s not funny, Memphis.”
“So, there we have it.” X scowls. “The fucking ‘normal’ one is behind the name?”
Finn pushes his sleeves up, exposing the ink that covers his arms before he folds his arms over his chest. “All three of us decided on it. It’s actually quite genius.”
“Nothing funny about a goddamned STD,” River growls, adjusting himself under the table.
“River obviously had no idea.” Xavier looks between Finn and me, like he’s trying to decide which one of us is gonna be sent to stand in the corner.
“River knew,” Finn says. “He was just too fucked up to—”
“Bullshit,” River sputters. “I haven’t smoked in three days… until this morning.”
Xavier is now pacing and sputtering under his breath.
“We promote safe sex,” I speak up, trying to put a spin on it.
“Yeah, that’ll go over like River at an NA meeting,” Xavier huffs.
“I should take offense to that,” River says, clearly not offended. “And I would if the last one I attended didn’t go so, so horribly wrong.”
“You know those T-shirt cannons they use at sporting events?” Xavier looks at me like I’m crazy, so I clarify. “I sent a message to a friend last night, and he’s building us a condom cannon—”
“Fucking genius.” Finn reaches out his fist for me to bump.
“We just need to get some condoms with this logo on it, and we’re golden. Every bitch in the world is gonna want Steel Total Destruction, the only STD that makes their panties as wet as the Jersey Shore.” I smirk, feeling proud.
“The one that makes them scream out in pleasure,” River adds while typing a note in his phone.
“The burn that doesn’t need medicated ointment.” Finn reaches out his fist again. This time he gets no bump.
“Nah, man.” Nick cringes. ”That’s just sick.”
Knowing Nick’s officially in, I smile to myself. Fucking perfect. Come on, X-man, I silently plead.
“If you fail, this is on you.” Xavier’s eyes narrow as they meet mine.
I shrug. “Ain’t gonna happen. You knew what we were when you handpicked us, so don’t start doubting us now.”
We all look up at the door when X’s wife Taelyn walks in, holding their baby. She looks up and pushes her long, auburn locks over her shoulder.
“Good morning!” She greets as she sways gently with the baby in her arms. Did I mention she’s hot? Yeah she is, and fucking smart, and I knew she would be on our side.
“Good morning, Taelyn.” River makes a beeline for her and the kid. “Hello, baby Patrick.”
Taelyn smiles. “He’s sleeping.”
“Perfect,” River says with a shit-eating smile. “Then may I hold him?”
“Taelyn,” Xavier growls, clearly annoyed.
“Xavier,” she mocks back at him, echoing his tone.
