by Mj Fields
“Yeah. I have another song.”
“Is it good?”
I look at him like what the fuck?
“What? Is it? You know whether you write shit and whether you write something good.”
“Everything I write is—”
“No, man, how about “Come fly with me”? That was shit.” He shakes his head. “Then you follow it up with “Soaring,” and that was shit and—”
“Fine, just have a lot on my mind; that’s all.”
“Spill it,” X says, pointing to his office.
We head back, and he sits down behind his desk.
“I left my vagina at home. Maybe—” I start to walk away.
“Shut the hell up and sit.”
“No really—”
“Tallia Priest, sister’s best friend. You—”
“What the fuck?” I snap
“Billy,” we both say at the same time, and Xavier laughs.
“And your parents are having problems. Add all that plus preparing to take STD to the top, and it’s hard. I get it, so spill.”
I sit down and shake my head. I tell him damn near everything, even about my dad.
“Okay, well, that’s …” He runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head.
“Fucked up? Yeah, it is.” I feel my blood boil.
“Have you confronted him yet?” Xavier asks.
“You want me on stage or in jail?”
“I hear ya. Maybe he’s not gay.”
“Well, what the fuck, then? Was he just holding it in his mouth till the swelling went down?”
Xavier sucks in his cheeks and tries not to laugh.
“Laughing won’t offend me. I’ve been between rolling fits of laughter and ready to knock him out. The shit kicker is I say he’s a piece of shit out loud or joke around to the wrong person, and I’m labeled as some fucking gay basher when I’m not. I am bashing the fact that the asshole who raised me is a fucking heap of shit who lied to his family and ruined our lives and the life of a girl who means a lot to me.”
“I feel you.” He sits forward in his chair. “I’m also pretty damn proud that you are thinking of the backlash it would have on you.”
“And the band. Fucking wackos everywhere would be following us and ruining us before we even really get a chance.”
“And the girl?”
I look up and shake my head. “She’s the most down-to-earth chick in the world.”
“And you like her?”
I stand up and walk to the window that overlooks the parking lot. “Yeah. Known her forever, but this life … I don’t know.”
“I understand,” he says, “but how are you gonna know if you don’t try?”
I turn around and sit against the windowsill. “I just want her to stay her. How fucked up is that? I should want to shower her with gifts, help her get a place for her and me when I’m home, buy her some damn clothes that aren’t second-hand.”
“Look, it sounds to me like you want a kept woman. That’s not fair to her,” he begins, but I cut him off.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“No. You don’t want her in second-hand clothes and to have a place to tuck her away when you’re on the road.”
I laugh, and he scowls at me. “Sounds bad when you say it like that,” I admit.
“Not my words, yours.” He waits for me to explain, and when I don’t, he says, “Oh, I see how it is.”
“You see how what is?”
He stands up and walks toward the door.
“That’s it?” I yell behind him.
“Sure is, man.” He chuckles. “Sure is.”
I follow him out. “I don’t want this life to suck her in and change a fucking thing about the girl I love.”
He turns around and smiles. “Yep, I saw how it was and I get it. I also know you gotta figure it out for yourself. If it comes easy, it doesn’t always stay. You’ve got this, but like everything, you gotta work to find a way to make it happen. Now, go give me a song, not some shit.”
I walk out of the sound booth an hour later.
Nickie D pats me on the back. “Platinum in six months.”
“Hey,” Xavier calls from behind. “Band chat.”
“Band chat?” Nickie raises his eyebrow. “Which one of you did some shit I’m gonna have to get you out of?”
“You were with me, so my buck’s on River.” I laugh.
We walk into the conference room and sit. Finn is chewing on a pen cap, staring at his notebook; River is baby talking to Xavier’s kid, who’s in some jumpy thing; and Billy is messaging on his phone.
“Okay, listen up.” X-man starts. “The talk about the opening act contest has gone fucking viral. We aren’t just getting rock bands; we’re getting Americas Got Talent shit. So, Taelyn, Nickie D, and I have decided we are going to step in until we get this record produced or find some people who know talent.”
“Groupies know talent.” River laughs, and so does the kid. “Yeah, they do. Huh, little buddy? Fist bump.” He holds up his fist, and the kid literally taps his fist with his hand. “We’ll work on that.”
“Or until Patrick understands what the hell is going on, which looks to be any day now.” Xavier looks at Taelyn and shakes his head. “This is happening too damn fast. It’s your fault.”
“My fault?” She laughs and picks the kid up. “Lunch time.”
“See? Your damn fault,” he scolds her, but when she walks away, he smiles.
He returns the focus to the task at hand. “As much as you all are dying to be involved, we’ve got it for the first few dates. Shit’s subject to change, and I really would like you guys to be part of this. It’s good for your image. Show support and love for the community, and they’ll show it for you. We all on the same page here?”
“I’ll help whenever, X,” River offers.
“Sober?” Xavier asks.
“Right now I am, but not gonna promise that in a couple hours. Besides, I’m at my fucking best when I’m in my own head.”
“But not passed out on stage, River,” Xavier warns, looking at him and trying his best not to yell.
“I kept my shit together for the Burning Souls tour; I will be doing the same for ours.”
“Travel is booked. Madison has done really well at that, and she’s working with Taelyn on social media promotion of the band. Nickie and I are trying to set up interviews and radio spots in cities where we are playing. And the album,” he pauses and smiles, “fucking insane.”
“Epic,” Nickie concurs.
“Orgasmic.” River laughs.
***
There’s a man here with a car, and it’s not you. <3
He’s gonna bring you to me.
So I should trust a man with a black town car who may possibly resemble someone from an Italian mafia movie and not an OBGYN who works in an office surrounded by people because he has a penis? <3
Enough finger tapping. Get in the car.
A little while later, I see her get out of the car and look around. Her shoulders sag a bit, but there is no regret on my end.
I’m sitting outside my mom’s home by the outdoor fire pit with my acoustic when she walks up.
“Come on over here,” I say as I put a foot on the bench and pat between my legs.
She smiles a little. “Is that safe?”
“I’m not sure. I guess we’ll find out.”
She walks up, sits between my legs, and leans back. “If you get uncomfortable, let me know. I’ve sat on this bench a million times, for hours on end.”
“Listening to a dumb kid strum his guitar and watching him dream.”
“He wasn’t dumb.”
I laugh. “Are we going to argue about younger me, Tales?”
“No. I just wanted you to know that I’m perfectly comfortable on this bench.”
“I wasn’t talking about the bench, Tales. I was talking about the harpoon that will very possibly be poking you in the back any second now.”
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She looks up and smiles. “I see.”
I lean down and kiss her, and she gives it right back. After a couple of minutes, I pull back and groan.
“Does it hurt?”
“What, Tales?”
“The wizard.” She blushes
“No. I was thinking about a new song. Mouth open, tongue in … I better stop there.”
“Sounds very interesting,” she says.
I reach behind the bench and grab the bag I brought for her. “I hit Yelp up and found a couple vintage shops, so I got you some things.”
She smiles and takes the bag, not opening it. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Aren’t you gonna look at it?” She leans against me fully and looks over her shoulder.
“I’d rather look at you while I have you.”
“Play along, Tales.” I kiss the top of her head and push the bag toward her.
I watch her open the bag and smile. She pulls out the first one—a Kermit the frog T-shirt.
“When I look at you, I see cartoons and everything in vivid color,” I tell her.
“Cartoons?” she whispers
“Yeah.” I laugh. “You used to come over after school and watch them with Mads. You would laugh at the same damn jokes over and over.”
“They were funny.”
“Maybe. I wouldn’t have noticed; I was too busy being amused by how damn easily you smiled.” She looks at me and smiles. “Like that, Tales.”
“I like smiling.”
“Thank God, because I love your smile.”
She pulls out the next. “Star Wars?”
“Vintage, and Billy went with me. He likes that shit.”
“Do you?”
“I did as a kid, and so did you. Mads hated it.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s more.” I point to the bag.
She reaches in and pulls out another tee—Rolling Stones.
“It’s vintage, but new.”
“I like it.” Her smile is bigger now as she reaches in for another one.
Pearl Jam, The Doors, The Who—one after another, she pulls out the T-shirts, grinning from ear to ear. She then pulls out the long skirts, all thin material and flowing.
“So, I was thinking … I don’t want you to change because of me, I want you to be the same girl I have been drawn to since forever. I want you in clothes that don’t scream groupie, and I want you naked in my bed. I’m scared to death that my lifestyle will change you, and I want nothing to do that. Not me, not the road, not a damn thing, Tales.”
She turns and looks at me. “I’m not changing.”
“I need you to soar, too, Tales. Follow your dreams, not mine.”
“I am.”
“I know.” I push her hair away from her eyes and then pull her toward me, just so I can smell her. God, she smells good all the damn time and everywhere, too.
“Look, I found a little house on the shore. I want it to be a place where you and me, you know …”
“Have sex?”
“Well, yeah, but maybe … I don’t know. Fuck, Tales, live together?”
“I live with my mom, Memphis. She needs me.”
“I need you, too.”
“I’ll be there for you anytime, anywhere.”
“Good. Then you’ll move in.”
“Memphis …”
“Tales, I’m serious. I’m gonna be on the fucking road the whole damn month of September, and that’s just a start. If I can grab a plane and get home, I want your ass there, ready for—”
“I’m going on tour with my dance company, Memphis. When we’re in town at the same time, I will be—”
I’m still trying to swallow that pill- her being on the road and shit- but this whole ‘Soar Memphis’ has me tripping.
“I love you, Tales. What the fuck? I’m asking you to—”
“You what?” she asks, stunned.
“I love you, and—”
“Stop. Just stop at that and let me enjoy that before you go and attach strings to it, okay?”
“Attach strings? Wow, Tales, that’s fucked up.” She’s acting like she didn’t say she loved me, and she fucking does. I know it.
“No, Memphis. Love is not fucked up.”
Insta-tarpoon. Tally said fuck, and she knows I’m hard because I am railing her in the back right now.
“It’s new. We are going in two different directions and—”
“Cut the shit, Tales!” I snap. “Tell me what you want.” And do it now, I want to scream.
“You. Just you and me and every second we can get together, without”—she smiles and moves her back from side to side slightly—“obstacles in our way. I want you, but I want me, too. What you just said”—she holds up the clothes—“what you did … You want the same thing.”
“All right, then.” I put my guitar on the ground.
Fucking head-trip. A motherfucking head-trip. I need an answer or duct tape and cuffs. Either one would work right about now, so I’m gonna step away to figure out what defensive move I’m gonna need to take.
“Look, I need to get some sleep—”
“Memphis?” She stands up slowly. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
She giggles as she turns to walk away.
“Tales, don’t go.”
She looks back.
“Go with me.”
“Where?”
“Doesn’t matter; just come with me.”
And here we go again. Fuck!
I walk up to his vehicle and smile. “Want me to drive?”
He opens the passenger door. “No.” I turn and wrap my arms around his trim waist and hug him tightly. “You’re a pain in the ass,” he tells me.
“We’re both young,” I respond.
“And talented. I get it; we both have a dream, so why don’t you go back to school? I can—”
“I like teaching dance much more than I like dancing on stage for the applause.”
He leans back and looks down. “Really?” The way he says it makes me laugh.
“When have I ever wanted the spotlight?”
“You should be in it, Tales.”
“No. I like seeing others in it, like you, the kids, the dance team, but as a whole …” I make a face that shows my distaste.
“Then come on the road with me. Teach us some moves.” He squeezes my ass.
“There isn’t a move I could teach any of you. The talent’s there; the skill is honed. It’s perfect.”
“Not true. Me up there without a guitar—”
“I’ll tutor you.”
“You will, huh?”
“In what, three weeks?”
“Two,” he says quickly.
“But you—” Has he been holding out on me? Why the hell do I wonder that? Good Lord we both just need to stop and enjoy a moment.
“Two.”
“Right.” I step away and get in the Escalade.
He gets in the driver’s side and asks, “Where to?”
“Feed me,” I say then decide to say something to change the darkening atmosphere. “Something salty and warm. Maybe a cream—”
“That’s enough, sweet cheeks.”
“You could have just talked to me,” I say, pointing to bulge. I still don’t understand why he would go and mess with… that.
“You’ll like it. Now enough talk about—”
“Fine.” I bet it hurts. Well I think it must I mean, hello!
It’s quiet for too long.
“My mom is going out of town for the weekend.” I turn in my seat and look at him.
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“Come stay with me, then?” he says.
“Where?”
“Our place.” Grrr. He’s being so stubborn.
“Or you stay with me.”
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye.
“More privacy,” I allude.
He doesn’t reply. He pulls into
the pizza place he used to take his dates to in high school, and I laugh.
“Old faithful?”
“What?” He looks at me confused.
“Nothing.” I open the door and get out.
“Oh, I see now. I like the pizza here, and I know you do, too.” He takes my hand and links our fingers as we walk in.
“Tony, what’s flying, man?”
“Well, lookee here.” Tony, the older Italian owner of the shop looks over at me and laughs. “And Tallia Priest.”
“Hey, Tony.” I feel my face heat up.
“Did he kidnap you, or did you come willingly?” Tony jokes.
“Kidnapped me,” I say, grinning at Memphis.
Memphis rolls his eyes then orders his favorite pizza. “Chicken, bacon, ranch, a medium.”
We then sit in a booth where he sits across from me.
“Ever think about leaving this place?”
“We both kind of have.” I answer.
“I mean farther away.”
“Of course. And you?” I take off my sweater and sit back.
“No, not really.”
***
The weekend plans were cancelled. Memphis and the band had to travel for some interviews in Texas, hoping to sell out the shows there. He was apologetic, and I was understanding, even though it stung.
The next week was busy, and something interesting happened. Ted, a member of the dance team, ended up spraining his knee. I talked to the manager of the dance team and learned that Ted’s partner, Anna, would be asked to leave the team. They just didn’t have time to train a replacement for Ted and all of our dances use partners. I offered to leave, instead, despite being afraid I would lose the classes I had and nervous that I was taking such a risk, but she didn’t accept. She asked that I stay on.
I decided that I should call and find out if the Stevie Danielle’s offer was still good. She said she was just about ready to fill the position, but she would still prefer me. I told her I was still interested and asked for another day to think about it.
I explained my situation to the manager, and she asked if she could change my mind, I told her no. This is a big deal for me. I hate disappointing people. I also hated telling Memphis to soar when I myself wasn’t even considering taking a step to do the same myself.
I walked out and grabbed my phone out of my bag, ready to call Stevie Danielle’s back when a message appeared.
