I didn’t talk to Sheldon for a few days after he ruined my surprise birthday party. When he finally did call, it was to tell me that Dancer had gotten picked up to do a small tour of the Midwest and they’d be leaving in a few weeks. He also wanted to see me before he left to make amends, so I stupidly gave in and met up with him.
We had a good, long talk about everything that had transpired over the last few months, and he finally apologized for my birthday debacle. We spent a lot of time together before he left on tour, and it was the happiest I’d been with Sheldon in a very long time. I was actually starting to believe things were finally going to work out between us. Then a few days before he was set to leave, I was woken up by a call from Laney around 3:00 am on Thanksgiving morning.
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I don't want you getting fucked over by my stupid brother anymore,” she whispered.
“Why, what's going on?” I asked still half asleep.
“Lisa’s here at the house. He’s been cheating on you for weeks,” she blurted out.
I suddenly found myself wide-awake and very sick to my stomach.
“Don’t tell him I told you or he'll fucking kill me,” she said.
I was absolutely speechless. I didn’t know what to say.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Not really,” I said as I got choked up.
“I’m really sorry, but I thought you should know. Listen, I gotta hang up, but call the house back and make up an excuse to tell Sheldon you’re coming over. I'll help you kick her ass, just get over here now!” she said and quickly hung up.
My heart was racing, and I knew I was about to lose my shit on Sheldon. I needed to find a place where I could rip him a new one without waking up the entire San Gabriel Valley. Since Lucy was staying over at Tim’s that night, I felt her car was my best option. I grabbed her keys, my cordless phone, and hopped into her car. I made sure all the windows were rolled up and then I called Sheldon.
To my surprise, he answered his phone. I was already borderline hysterical, so I made up a bullshit story about having a nightmare and blamed my tears on the dream I had. I said I didn’t want to sleep alone that night and needed to come over.
“You can't come over,” he said.
“Why not?” I demanded.
“Because I'm about to go to sleep in a few minutes.”
“You can sleep when I get there. I’ll be over in twenty minutes.”
“I'm going to sleep right after we hang up the phone.”
“You’re falling asleep RIGHT after we hang up? Are you narcoleptic?”
He continued giving lame reasons on why I couldn't come over, and I cornered him on every excuse. After a good half hour, I could tell he was exhausted with our Ping-Pong match, and to be honest, I was too.
“Look. I know Lisa's there, and that's why you don't want me to come over,” I said.
“No she’s not. I keep telling you, nothings going on with her.”
“Don't lie to me, I know she's there!”
“Why would she be here?”
“To fuck you, what else! I know she's there, and you're a fucking asshole for cheating on me!”
“Believe what you want.”
“I can't believe you don't even care!”
“I do care, but she's not here!”
“YOU’RE A LYING PIECE OF SHIT AND YOU CAN GO TO HELL!” I screamed and hung up.
I turned on the radio and “Bastard” by Mötley Crüe was playing on KNAC. How fitting I thought. I cried until the sky turned a light shade of purple and the smallest rays of sunshine started to come up over the horizon. My face felt tight from being drenched with salty tears, and I was absolutely exhausted. I knew my mom would be up soon, so I wiped my face with my oversized sweatshirt, then snuck back into my house and passed out.
I woke up sometime in the late morning to the smell of Thanksgiving turkey overtaking my house. But there would be no traditional sit down dinner with my family that day. It would just be my mom, Ginger, and me. Lucy was already spending Thanksgiving at Tim’s house, and my dad was spending the holiday with his new family.
I got out of bed to get something to drink. But once I saw my red puffy eyes in the mirror, I climbed back into bed and went right back to sleep.
I woke up a few hours later to the sound of gentle knocks on my bedroom door from my mom, telling me that Thanksgiving chow was ready. I climbed out of bed long enough to make a plate of food and spent the rest of the day in bed picking at bits of turkey while watching The Twilight Zone marathon.
I remember the Use Your Illusion albums by Guns N’ Roses were big at the time, and “November Rain” was on heavy rotation. Even to this day, every time I hear that song, it brings me back to eating Thanksgiving dinner in my old bedroom and watching The Twilight Zone episode where William Shatner spots that thing in a fuzzy suit on the airplane wing.
A few days passed with no word from Sheldon. He finally called the night before leaving for tour and said we would talk about everything in person when he got back. Whatever.
I still loved Sheldon despite the fact he had been cheating on me for god knows how long. At the same time, I was glad to have him leave because I knew if he was around, there was a chance I might forgive him and take him back. I hoped our time apart would help me realize that I really needed to just dump him once and for all.
A few days after Sheldon left for tour, my friend Mark invited me to see his band Electric play at The Whisky. My first thought was not to go. Not only because Mark’s band sucked, but I was an absolute wreck over Sheldon. The last thing I wanted to do was be in a club full of people. On the other hand, I was also sick of wallowing in my room, which I had been doing everyday since Sheldon left. So I told Mark I would go to the show. I thought about calling Faye or Sasha to go with me but decided it was best if I went alone. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to stay and didn’t want to be responsible for ruining anybody’s evening.
When I got to The Whisky, I talked to my friend Bear who was one of the bouncers. He said I looked sad and asked why I was there by myself. I told him I hated boys and needed a drink. I’m sure he knew I was underage, but my ID said I was Lucinda Tellez, age 21. Thank god for older sisters. I’d been mooching Lucy’s ID since I was 15 to get into 18 and over clubs, and now that she was 21, the world was my oyster.
I walked into The Whisky and immediately noticed Heidi Stossel, who was married to Teddy, Marks singer. I’d always heard crazy stories about Teddy and Heidi’s volatile relationship, but in Hollywood you never know what’s true and what isn’t. I was actually having that very thought when Teddy walked up to Heidi, and they went from zero to screaming in just under a minute. A few moments later, she threw her drink in his face, punched him in the nose and stormed off. Apparently, some rumors in Hollywood were true.
Teddy and I were friends, but it clearly wasn’t the right moment for me to walk up and say, “Hey how are you?” while he wiped a drink out of his eyes. So I turned on my heels and walked over to the bar to get myself a drink.
Sipping on a fresh cocktail, I walked closer to the stage to check out who was playing. The band sounded a bit like Skid Row, and I suddenly found myself staring at the cute singer with the powerhouse voice. He wore a crushed purple velvet coat with no shirt and black leather pants. He had long black hair cascading down his chest. He must have noticed me staring at him because moments after the end of their set, he walked up to me and introduced himself. He said his name was Larry, and the band was Rockhoney, both of which were in town from Chicago.
Within a half hour of meeting Larry, we were walking around the club holding hands and snuggling as if we had known each other for years. We went upstairs and leaned against the rails as he put his arms around me and gave me little kisses throughout the set of Electric. It all felt remarkably comfortable, and there was nothing sleazy about it at all. It was quite sweet actually. It was nice to have that genuine physical affection, which I hadn’t had
in a long time. I didn’t have one shred of guilt about what I was doing with Larry.
Shortly after Electric finished their set, Larry’s band mates were heading out, so he had to leave too. He walked me to my car, and as I pulled my car keys out of my purse I caught him staring at them. I had forgotten there was a heart shaped frame on my keychain with a prom picture of Sheldon and I.
Damn it.
Larry asked if that was my boyfriend. I said sort of. He said he had a girlfriend back in Chicago too and that even though he’d gotten a few offers from girls while being in L.A., he hadn’t cheated on her. Apparently our canoodling wasn’t considered cheating in his eyes. Regardless, he said he wanted to see me again and we exchanged numbers. He mentioned he had another Hollywood show the following weekend at the Red Light District and wanted me to go.
I woke up the next morning feeling emotionally refreshed, yet physically hung over. My evening with Larry was exactly what I needed, a simple fling. I threw my bed sheets off of me, and a pair of jeans I had worn the night before, flew off with change flying out in every direction. I got out of bed, picked up the coins and started going through the back pockets of my jeans. When I pulled out a napkin with Larry’s name and number on it, I cracked a smile and gently placed the napkin on my dresser.
Sheldon called that afternoon from Texas and asked what I had been up to the last few days. I told him a few things here and there but left out the part about meeting Larry. He told me that Dancer had just played their first show of the tour and got booed offstage. I laughed my ass off, and of course he didn’t find that funny. He actually got so pissed at my caterwauling that he hung up on me. I rolled my eyes and went on with my day.
A few days later, Sheldon called again. This time it was to tell me he was on his way home. Apparently Dancer couldn't even make it two weeks on the road together without fighting. He refused to give me specific details about what happened. He only said it was an issue with Nima that couldn’t be resolved, so they decided to call it quits for the tour and the band as a whole. Although I didn’t say it to him at that moment, I’d soon be adding our relationship to that list.
Sure I knew Nima could be controlling when it came to the band, but that had nothing to do with me. I intended on staying friends with him after Dancer got back from tour, which Sheldon wasn’t too happy about.
“Well I still want to talk to Nima, but I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever fight you guys had,” I said.
“You don’t even know what happened on tour, and there’s no reason for you to stay friends with him.”
“Hey, don’t take it out on me. Why won’t you just tell me what happened?”
“Because it’s none of your fucking business what happened.”
“You know what? Why don’t you talk that way to Lisa? Maybe she’ll put up with your bullshit.”
“Fuck you,” he said.
“Go fuck yourself you cheating asshole!” I yelled and abruptly hung up on him.
Sheldon came home from tour the next day and wanted to meet up for lunch to talk about things, but I had no desire to see him. I was exhausted from the emotional roller coaster and really didn't owe him anything. After all, the asshole did cheat on me god knows how many times. I should've just told him to go fuck himself again, but I was curious to hear what he had to say. After some mild contemplation, I agreed to go to lunch with him just so I could state the obvious, that we were over.
A few hours later, Sheldon picked me up and we had lunch at a Sizzler right by my house. We sat down and he began to tell me a little bit of what transpired with Nima. At that point, it really didn’t matter to me what happened on tour, none of it mattered. I wasn’t there to chew the fat with him and see what was new. I just wanted to get it all over with.
I brought up Lisa, and he finally confessed to cheating on me. Apparently, it started shortly after he met her. I knew it!
One thing I can honestly say about Sheldon is that I never trusted him. As much as I thought I loved him, I was always worried about what or who he was doing when I wasn’t around. He justified his cheating by saying that every man cheats, especially musicians, and I was going to have a hard time finding any guy who would be completely monogamous. After saying that so boldly, he backtracked a little by apologizing if he had hurt me in any way throughout the course of our relationship. He said he really did love me, but I didn't sense an ounce of regret in his voice. It was as if he were reading a pre rehearsed public apology at a press conference. A tiny part of me felt the best retribution would be to tell him about Larry, but I decided against it. It was pointless to say anything, and I didn’t want to drag out that breakup. Our relationship was already emotional road kill anyway.
As we got up from our table I sighed a bit of relief. I was walking away from the meal, the restaurant, and from that bullshit relationship. He dropped me off at home, hugged me goodbye and said he would talk to me later. I knew what that meant, and I was fine with it.
I walked into my bedroom and made a few entries in my journal over what had just transpired and my overall experience with Sheldon and his band. I had noticed that little group of friends had slowly been disbanding anyway, even before the band left on tour. Now that the band was broken up, it pretty much shut the door on that chapter of my life. No more Dancer shows, after parties and rehearsals, no more psycho Misha. Aside from the relationship drama, I really did have a lot of fun with that group of people. Strangely though, the one person I was really going to miss would be Laney.
Sure she was a little rough around the edges, but she was the only person who really had my back when it came to my relationship with Sheldon, even when it meant going against her own brother. I wanted to keep in touch with Laney, but I knew that was highly unlikely. We were just two totally different people, and I couldn't see myself being her wingman the next time the La Vida Loca girls decided to do a drive by.
Now that I was without Sheldon, I needed to get back into the social swing of things, and Larry proved to be an essential buffer in transitioning my way back to the single life. He was the perfect specimen of a rebound if I had ever seen one. He was cute, affectionate, and most importantly, not within driving range of Los Angeles.
The following weekend, Sasha and I went to the Red Light District for Larry’s show. Being an 18 and over club, I would be able to get in on my own. But I knew I would want to drink, so I decided to bring Lucy’s trusty ID. Larry put us on his guest list as promised, and with that taken care of, all I needed to do was show Lucy’s ID to get a 21 & over stamp for cocktails.
When I showed the doorman Lucy’s ID, he looked at me, looked at the ID and then looked at me again. I didn’t understand what the issue was because Lucy and I looked exactly alike. The doorman asked me what my birthday was. Ha! Ridiculous! Of course I knew her birthday by heart.
Then he asked me for my address. Another inner chuckle I gave to myself. Lucy lived with me, so that wasn’t hard information to spout off either.
“Sign your name,” he said. He handed me a pen and a clipboard with a piece of paper on it.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Sign your name, LUCY,” he said snidely.
Now that was a definite problem. I hadn’t mastered Lucy’s handwriting, and it never occurred to me that I would ever have to. To make matters worse, Lucy’s handwriting was neat and consisted of big, googly characters, whereas mine was total chicken scratch. He held on to Lucy’s ID while he waited for me to sign “my” name. I sloooowly started to sign Lucy’s name, trying to remember how she wrote her C’s and E’s with a particular swirl.
“It shouldn’t take you an hour to write your name. Now get outta here,” he said as he handed me back the ID.
Larry happened to walk out of the club just as we were walking away. So we followed him around the corner to a side door where he was able to sneak us in.
I had spent the entire week looking forward to continuing our little rendezvous, but while Sasha and I watched La
rry’s set, something just felt off to me. All the excitement I had built up of going to his show was suddenly equivalent to a dilapidating balloon. I figured it was just me being a little uptight over what happened with the door guy, so I got myself a cocktail in the hopes it would loosen me up a bit. But when Larry came to talk to us after his set, I was getting a distant vibe from him as well, and that’s when I knew it wasn’t just me.
Our chemistry was completely out of whack that night and nothing like it was at The Whisky. As cheesy as it is to say, the magic was gone. Maybe it was never meant to be anything more than a one-night fling. That theory was proven a half hour later when I saw him making out with a hideous Asian girl near the women’s restroom when I went to relieve myself.
Larry was completely preoccupied having his tongue down that girl’s throat. Needless to say, he didn’t notice me when I walked by. So I used the bathroom, then grabbed Sasha and told her why we were leaving the club right then and there.
Larry called me a few days later when he got back to Chicago. We spoke for a few minutes, but it was the same drab energy I felt at the Red Light District show. I didn’t mention anything to him about playing tonsil hockey with the Asian girl because I saw no reason to. I wasn’t upset over the situation, just mildly grossed out. So I felt there was no need to make a dramatic spectacle about it. I also didn’t care to talk to him anymore and was really just over the whole situation. He must’ve felt the same way too because that was the last time he ever called me.
I’ve always believed certain people breeze into your life to serve a specific purpose and fly right back out as quickly as they came in. I truly believe Larry was one of those people. He was exactly what I needed at that moment in time to ease the sadness I had over Sheldon. But that was all it was meant to be, and I really enjoyed our brief time together.
Meanwhile, my partner in crime Sasha was burning out on Hollywood and just going out in general. She wasn’t calling me as much as she normally did, and I was having a really hard time getting a hold of her. After weeks of trying to track her down, she finally called me one evening around midnight. She said she had taken some pills and wanted to kill herself.
Rock and Roll High School: Growing Up in Hollywood During the Decade of Decadence Page 16
