Falling Stars (The B–Side)

by J. L. Brooks

  Growing angry in response, I raised my voice much louder than necessary. “I don’t believe you! If he cared about me he would have called me by now! But no, I am going to hop on a plane and hope he’s happy to see me. Just watch, I am going to get out there, and you will see me crushed when I return without Hunter and even more brokenhearted than I am now.”

  “No you won’t, because you will have an answer. No more guessing, you will know. Because isn’t that really what’s bothering you? Not knowing how he really feels about you?”

  Her truth seemed merciless, yet she was right. I was almost certain without a shadow of a doubt he loved me, but with everything else, I didn’t even trust myself. Excusing myself from the table, I knew the conversation was over. As I headed up the stairs to continue packing, the women remained in the kitchen, conversing quietly until the wee hours. I could hear them praying, laughing, crying and scheming. What must rest in the heart of a mother when it comes to her child, especially when she sees them in pain?

  Only God knows . . .

  I packed very little, only enough to see me through the weekend. A deep part of me understood I was not going to be the same. Whether it was good or bad, it was inevitable. Saying very little on the drive to the airport, I watched the sun rise over the lush green fields. The low fog danced in the valleys and over the bridges. My mother’s beautiful face was tight and determined. Knowing it may be a long time before I saw her again, I reached over and tickled the back of her neck and giggled. She slapped my thigh playfully in return. The laughter was deep and hearty, yet short lived.

  A thin tear slipped from her eye and fell down onto her chest.

  “Oh Mom, it’s okay. No matter, what, I know I can come home. You were right, too. I will have an answer, and then I can move on. To what I don’t know, but still, it will work itself out.”

  She pulled up to the curb and wiped her eyes, checking in the rearview mirror before getting out of the truck. Pulling me tight, she whispered in my ear. “Go get your heart back.”

  I smiled and returned the hug. They were such simple words with infinite meanings. Curling my hands into the shape of a heart, I rested it against my chest.

  “Isn’t Ohio the heart of it all?”

  Her eyes lit up and she reached into her purse for something. She handed me a new iPhone and the box it came in.

  “I need to know that wherever you go, you can reach me. I get you don’t want to be bothered, but I am your mother. I have the right to know if you are okay.”

  Rolling my eyes, I giggled once again as I tucked it into my bag and popped my luggage handle up.

  “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

  I gave her another hug and kiss before walking away first, knowing she wouldn’t leave. She would watch carefully until I disappeared from sight, despite the protests of the airport security.

  Once through the checkpoint, I found a seat near the window and allowed the sunshine to warm my body in the cold terminal. Observing everyone so engrossed in their laptops and children with handheld games, I reflected on my time with limited access to technology. I had entirely too much time to think, which wasn’t always good. More often than not, I watched people. Hours passed by without them really living, mostly going through the motions on autopilot. The times where I saw the human spirit shine the most involved art, music, books, and dance. Things that moved the body and mind were always beautiful.

  My surroundings became words in my head, writing a story with each breath. My muse was growing stronger with each courageous step I took. Armed only with a small notebook, I tried my best to capture each thought. The flight gave me the opportunity to catch up on much needed sleep, as I would not have a chance for a while, and the journey would be a bit exhausting. Although short in duration, it was enough to help me balance the time change.

  Navigating away from Denver International and heading west towards the mountains, I knew I would use my phone for everything other than communicating. I wasn’t ready for the world to have access to me. I arrived at the Magnolia Hotel in the historic district, which Eli had recommended to me. He’d stayed there before when visiting a friend of ours that moved this way and opened Love Vinyl Records. I promised I would try and stop by to see Seth since I knew him, too, yet everything depended on what happened at the show.

  Time passed too quickly. Nervously I pulled on a pair of distressed, cut-off, denim shorts and a camisole shirt with a sheer flannel to ward off the evening chill. Because I knew the pass he gave me in Chicago would work, I tucked it in my shirt until entering through the main gates. Cars swarmed the parking lot beneath the massive outcroppings of red stone. Red Rocks was the Mecca for musicians because of the natural acoustics and history, combined with stunning location. Because it was a free-for-all entry, the line was thick and impatient. All around me people were getting stoned, thanks to the lax marijuana laws. More than once I declined a random joint or glass pipe with a smile.

  I found it strange, seeing it in the open and knowing it was legal. If only it were a different time and place, I may not have thought twice about it. The boom of the sound-check taking place drew catcalls and whistles as we wove our way through the corridors leading inside. Passing the vendors with Arial Assault t-shirts tugged at my heart. Feeling a panic attack coming on, I bought a beer to calm down and checked out the other vendors. His set would not be for another hour, and I didn’t want him to see me waiting.

  Hearing the build up of the final tracks, I knew the current DJ would be finishing soon and made my way over to a security guard. Pulling my pass out, I asked what the best way would be to get backstage. Without question, he left his post and guided me to the gated entrance, which was opened immediately. The large bouncers moved to the side after recognizing the distinct pieces of plastic around my neck. Out of the way of the stage entrance, I found a small corner near the speakers and leaned back casually.

  Recognizing the setup from before, I knew Hunter would walk right past me. Shivers ran down my spine, imagining every possible reaction to my surprise. Trying my best to convince myself he would be happy, I shoved the doubt down deep and focused on the DJ playing the last song and getting the crowd pumped up. At first I didn’t recognize him, but once I listened a little longer it was unmistakable. I had completely forgot that Hunter had Jack on his tour. Mister Shifter was yet another friend from the past. I got a little choked up thinking about Hunter using his fame to ensure talented people got the exposure they deserved. Once Jack got on the right stage, there was no stopping him. Always humble, he deserved being here more than anyone. It made me wish more than anything the evening would go well so I could have a chance to catch up with him. Reading in the press that he was married with two boys, I still kept his old school mixes to write and run to. My brother had told me that Jack was instrumental to Hunter getting sober, which didn’t surprise me because he was such a solid guy.

  Feeling a breeze pass, I looked up to see Hunter move towards the stage. I glanced from his head down to his shoulders and to his hand, which was gripping a smaller one belonging to a beautiful blonde woman. He bent to give her a small kiss and slap on the ass, which she accepted with a coy smile.

  Feeling my heart pound in my ears, I didn’t want to believe what I had just seen. The woman took a pair of earplugs out of her pocket and twisted the foam material while standing next to me. I was so close I could smell the floral body spray that had been applied with a heavy hand. My fingers and legs went numb. I couldn’t look up or move. Gritting my teeth, I told myself I had to leave. Hunter started the transition and set a new record down while speaking to the crowd on the microphone. I tapped the woman on the shoulder and smiled. Not able to hear my shouting, she pulled her earplug out to listen a little better.

  “Hi, you must be Hunter’s girlfriend. Can you do me a favor? I am an assistant editor for The Bombshell Collective and have been covering this tour. I just got a text that I need to get back to L.A. Do you mind giving him back this pass? I know
they are like gold. You can tell him I got the story I was looking for. I am going to listen from the top for a bit before heading out.”

  She grinned with delight at the introduction. Reaching out to shake my hand, I accepted the offering before sliding the laminate off my neck. The strap caught on the back of my hat, ripping it off my head and allowing my hair to tumble loose across my shoulders. I picked it up and handed the pass over, taking a quick glance at Hunter who had observed the exchange. I froze in place briefly under his horrified gaze before I turned and slipped through the way I came. Hunter was able to watch as security opened the gates, releasing me into the crowd as I raced up the stairs. The thin air burned my lungs, forcing me to move slower than I desired. A short distance from the top, the record suddenly changed, and the familiar drums echoed through the hillside. The crowd screamed with approval while cementing me in place.

  Hauntingly my voice traveled out of the large speakers and across the crowd. Watching other people sing my words rendered me speechless. I knew it was impossible for him to see me, yet I could see him. The camera was panned on his broken face. He dropped to his knees, and the record ended. Amidst deafening shouts of confusion, Hunter made his way back to the turntables and placed down another record, restoring balance to the show. I walked slowly out of the Amphitheater and down the empty black road to the parking lot, shaking in fury.

  Sitting in the car, I was unsure what I would do. I was numb. Returning to the hotel, I crawled into the bed and called Elijah. The kids were yelling in the background, so I knew I would not have long to talk.

  “Eli, it’s me. Did you know?”

  “Did I know what?”

  “He has a fucking girlfriend. Did you know?”

  The line was silent, placed on mute for several moments. When he came back on again, it sounded like he had moved to a different part of the house or onto the porch.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m in Denver.”

  “Fuck, sis, why?”

  I sank to the ground next to the bed, clutching the phone to my ear as the sobs rattled my chest.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Eli? How could you let this happen to me? I know he’s your friend, but I am your fucking sister!”

  I held the phone away as I screamed into the pillow. The pain I thought was absent ripped through me with a vengeance. Every cell in my body felt like it was being crushed, and surely I was going to die. He stayed on the line and allowed me to release my immediate anger before responding.

  “Sis, he said it was over. He just hadn’t left her, yet, but he was going to tell her as soon as he went back to New York. I believed him, and I didn’t want you to not trust him.”

  “He lied,” I whispered back.

  Several moments passed with nothing more to say. I went to hang up, but he stopped me.

  “Lila, you need to go see Seth. You can’t be alone right now. It would make me feel better.”

  “I don’t want to be around anyone right now. I just want to get a bottle of wine and pass out.”

  “Lila, please, for me. Go see him. Get trashed at the bar. I am sure he would be happy to get you drunk.”

  He was pleading. Eli had done so much for me, and I knew this had to be hurting him, too. Swallowing my pride I agreed to go and see Seth. Taking the directions Eli gave me, I had a taxi drop me off at a small bar a few miles from the hotel on Broadway. It reminded me of Vapor, small and inconspicuous. Seth had a residency here on Saturday nights, and Eli had gone on repeatedly about the rooftop garden. A down tempo mix was piped through the speakers and was easier to handle than the hard-hitting Jungle mix from a few hours earlier.

  Traveling up the narrow stairwell to the roof, I definitely felt more comfortable there versus staying at the hotel in solitude. It had only been a few years since I had seen Seth and his girlfriend at Christmas. He returned for family like so many others, and we would all catch up over drinks. I recognized him immediately on the terrace, where he spotted me as well and lifted me off the ground in a hug.

  “What’s up, girl?” he said in a slow drawl.

  I laughed at how he tilted his head, being innocently flirtatious. Seth was another underground success that managed to leave the Midwest and continue to do what he loved. I was almost positive he and Hunter still spoke, but I would not bring it up. Finding a plush lounge area, we sat and ordered cocktails while he caught me up on everything that had happened to him in Denver. I knew Eli had spoken to him before my arrival and must have tipped him off to avoid certain conversations. The city lights glimmered all around, and I could see why Eli was such a fan of this place.

  Eventually Seth got up and moved towards the turntables, as it was his turn to take over, and I promised to dance. The altitude and alcohol intensified the effects and made me a bit unsteady at first, but I had danced my ass off in situations far worse. A small, square, wooden floor was installed in one of the corners looking over the skyline. With my back to the crowd, I closed my eyes and tried to forget how upset I had become and focus on how awesome the music was. More bodies joined the dance floor as Seth played a mix of old school breaks just for me. With his laptop and a hard drive, he had entire decades at his fingertips and could play them with ease. It was different watching someone who played what they wanted just for fun and not for a show. The tracks he mixed had me cracking up and the crowd getting down. The atmosphere was electric, and everyone was so happy. Wanting to leave on a good note, I hugged Seth and thanked him for the evening.

  The emotions were starting to take over, and I needed to be alone. Feeling the tears burn and start to escape, I wiped under my eyes before sucking back a shot of tequila at the bar and heading out. The moment I stepped through the door leading back into the dark building, a strong hand gripped my upper arm and slammed me against a wall.

  “Lila,” he snarled through gritted teeth.

  Caged inside of his arms, I tried to push his chest away. “Are you fucking kidding me? Hunter, let me go,” I protested.

  “No, not until we talk. What are you doing here?”

  Venomously I spat in his face, “Having my eyes opened.”

  He replied just as angrily. “Lila, it’s complicated.”

  “No, really it’s not. You were right; I was going to end up hating you.”

  I tried to wiggle away, yet his knee came between my legs, pinning me still, pressing against my most sensitive place. My breathing hitched against my will, which did not go unnoticed. Pressing his mouth near my ear, he ran his hands down my ribs to rest on my hips.

  “Please don’t say that. Let me explain,” he breathed.

  Shaking my head, I knew it was too late. It was too broken.

  “What can you possibly say, Hunter? I wake up in a fucking hospital alone, and for over two months you refuse any contact with me. I told them I was going to come back crushed. They said I would have my answer; I would know how you really felt.”

  As he lifted his knee a little higher, a small moan slipped from my lips. He squeezed my hips painfully while growling, “Who is them?”

  “Our mothers . . . Or should I say my mother and your adoptive mother.” I shuddered.

  Hunter’s eyes grew wide at my admission. Becoming fearful of losing control, I had to lay it all out now while the courage was in me.

  “I know. It’s one of the reasons I came. I actually felt sorry for you. But you used me. Just like everyone else, you got what you wanted and moved on. Do me a favor and leave Eli out of it. Now let me go.”

  Refusing to budge, I could see his eyes boring deep into mine. “That’s not true, Lila, and you know it. I love you.”

  I closed my eyes, unable to take one more moment under his gaze.

  “Do you love her?” I asked, not realizing that behind him stood the beautiful blond girl who silently listened to our conversation and then gasped in shock. The world was caving in, and the urge to flee consumed me. Turning my head to bring my lips close to his ear, I gently kissed the rim and sa
id the words I should have the moment I laid eyes on him in New York.

  “Goodbye, Hunter.”

  There is no rest for the wicked, they say. I seem to be no exception. If only for a moment I could get the wheels in my head to stop spinning out of control, anchor myself to something substantial, my bones might rest, and I could find relief. Curled up on the floor of my hotel room, I felt myself fall into another existence.

  Laid upon a bare wooden bench, my arms were bound to the side with soft velvet ties. Above the elbow and below the wrists, I was unable to lift my arms, therefore my torso by default. Underneath my head rested a Japanese buckwheat pillow. The small kernels crunched against one another as I tried to crane my neck left to right. Additional ties were laced around my thighs and calves, spreading my legs wide open into a butterfly position, fully exposed and vulnerable, yet comfortable. Careful thought was placed into how I was restrained. It was similar to the woman at the club in Chicago. Unable to see due to the thick padded blindfold, I relied on my other senses to illustrate my surroundings. I smelled sultry jasmine flowers and vetiver. The air was slightly cool, causing my nipples to harden into painful buds. It sounded as if a guitarist was off to my left, plucking away at the strings in anticipation. The moment his fingers strummed the first chord, I gasped in fear at the warm mouth upon my clit. The tongue flattened, lapping deeply in every direction. I pulled on the restraints, yet only heard laughter from several voices, all presumed to be male. The mouth left my aching center and was replaced by the soft tip of an erection, gently pressing into the folds. Entering me slowly, his hips began to gyrate with the lush Spanish guitar rhythms. Just as I was near climax, the man removed his cock, leaving me frustrated. A few moments passed before I once again felt the tip began to probe before sliding into me fully. This cock was different, fuller, with more prominent veins I felt every time his hips pressed forward. He too left me wanton with desire, close to the edge of ecstasy, only to leave me unfulfilled.