by Michelle Lee
I find myself captivated, drawn to him with some invisible magnetic pull.
Dash clears his throat and begins to speak, “Thank you for being here tonight. We convinced Shades of Tantric Resistance to allow us to take the stage for one song.”
The crowd lets Dash know they are disappointed to not be hearing a full set. He apologizes and then continues, “Uh, usually we would play our latest hit or give you a sneak peek of a song on our upcoming album; however, I want to do things a little different tonight.” There are a few more disappointed responses, but for the most part the crowd explodes with accolades of praise for the rock god. “I’m gonna borrow a song from my good buddy, if you don’t mind. The words in it express perfectly how I feel. This is ‘What About Now’” Dash briefly closes his eyes, and he takes in a deep breath. “This is for my soul.”
My heart stops, and I take in a rush of air. He gently places his hands on the keys, takes a deep breath, and caresses the ivories, playing the most beautiful notes that have ever been strung together, and then his lips part and the words of the song flow out… Shadows fill … My heart starts to swell in my chest. He continues…
I can’t help the tears that start to fill my eyes, and I suddenly feel Val and Tracy place their hands in mine, giving me the support I so desperately need. In my head, I’m screaming, “It’s not too late, Dash. I’m here, I’m right here and I’m so very sorry!”
Sensing my need to get up, Val leans in and says, “Jules, hang on, please, just a little longer.”
I simply nod my head, my tears falling even more with the slight movement. More tears find their way down my cheeks, and my insides tighten. I close my eyes briefly, but Val nudges me, drawing my attention back to the beautiful man at the piano. Dash is lost in the song. Even though the song was written by someone else, I know he’s feeling every word he is singing, and I am too. Dash elegantly continues to play the piano and sings…
“There is nothing to fear …” echoes in my head, and in that instant I see everything: our first meeting, how he surprised me in Napa and we had our first date, the trip to Italy and the picnic at Aldo’s vineyard, the first time we told each other I love you, the endless times he’s taken me to the edge of ecstasy with just a single touch, the way his eyes sparkle, and that crooked smile I love so much—all of it beautiful, special, just right—outweighing all the shit we’ve been through: the models, the groupies, the press conferences, the photo shoots, Nadia, Roland, Blake. It all brought us here, to this moment.
I feel my insides puff up, and I know I’m strong enough to be the woman he needs me to be, the woman he deserves. I love Dash, and he loves me. In the end, that’s what matters, that’s what it comes down to.
What Dash doesn’t understand is he’s the one that’s making me all that I am meant to be. Without him, there’s no real me. Like Tracy said, we are two pieces of the same puzzle, completing it, completing each other.
Dash stops singing and finishes the song, gracefully playing the right keys. The last note lingers in the air. and the spotlight fades to black. The crowd goes wild, wanting and asking for more. I feel quiet sobs pulse through my body, but for the first time they are tears of happiness, tears of love, tears of knowing that I can have him and not be afraid of what’s to come. I turn to Tracy and then to Val. They ease their hands out of mine. Both of them lean in, place a gentle kiss on my cheek, and then Val whispers in my ear, “Go get your heart, Jules.”
And, before my mind can comprehend what she just said, I’m on my feet, walking quickly away from my two best friends and then running straight to my heart. I shove and push my way through the packed bodies of the club. As hard as I try to move quickly, they still my actions. I feel angry heat start to bubble below the surface. I have to get to Dash, tell him I was wrong, tell him I’m sorry, tell him I’m lost without him, and beg him to take me back. But all of these bodies are another obstacle in my pursuit.
“Get the fuck out of my way!” I yell to no one but yet everyone.
Some people get out of my way, some people give me dirty looks, and some still don’t fucking move. If I have to, I will punch, hit, or trample anyone I have to. I start to throw some elbows, and that gets people moving out of my way. Since, after all, I am a complete klutz, a few toes, feet, and shins meet their demise at my hands or feet. I smile, faking my apology and trudging on.
Dash.
Dash.
Dash.
His name and his image are set on repeat in my mind. I feel my body start to tingle. I’m getting close. Finally, after much difficulty and tons of determination and fight, I find myself at the side door to the backstage area. My heart is pounding, a trickle of sweat streaks down my back, my head is swimming, and I’m breathing like I just finished a triathlon. I push my way through the door and, much to my dismay, more fucking people.
“Move!” I shout over and over.
After a few death glares and an elbow here and a stomp of the foot there, I make my way through the hordes of fans clamoring to just get a glimpse or piece of the band. A few girls are arguing with a couple of security guards, so I easily bypass them and make a mad dash down the long, dark hall.
Have you ever had that dream where you are running toward safety, away from the maniac wielding a chainsaw, and you feel like you’re running in slow motion, in sand, and the hallway you have to go down in order to get away keeps getting longer and longer? Well, that’s how I feel right now. I’m standing, staring at a door at the end of a hallway, a hallway that seems to be getting longer and longer.
Before I can even move an inch, I feel someone grab my arm. “Where are you going?”
I turn and am face to face with a security guard. “I’m Jules, Jules Bennet. I’m looking for Dash,” I admit as a bead of sweat forms on my brow.
“Jules, huh? Dash’s Jules?” he questions, eyeing me up and down.
“Yep, uh, that’s me.”
“You’re prettier than he described,” he says, eyeing me up and down before nodding toward the door. “Go to the door at the end of the hall. You should be able to catch him before he gets in the limo.”
“Limo?”
“Yeah, it’s a little crazy around here, if you haven’t noticed. Security decided it was safer for the guys to leave immediately. You’d better hurry.”
“Thanks,” I reply, running toward the door.
My lack of coordination doesn’t rear its ugly head, and I push hard against the doors. They burst open, the humid air smacking me in the face and causing my already ragged breathing to become even more erratic. More fans are here in the loading dock, and that’s when I see a limo up ahead surrounded by female fans.
“Dash!” I call out, but my voice is drowned out by the screaming girls.
I move toward the limo, once again pushing my way through a sea of bodies, only to see the limo’s door close and then it starts to pull away. My heart stops. I’m too late. He’s gone. He left before I had a chance to let him know I’m here, I’m sorry, he’s my everything, and I am strong enough to stand by his side through everything that comes our way. Some of the girls run after the limo while the rest part ways and leave.
I am alone.
I feel an emotional storm threaten, but I reach deep down inside and, with all my strength, suppress it. I will find Dash, wherever he’s gone, and make this right. I turn around, open the door, and the cool air of the now abandoned hallway comforts my heated skin. With my head hung low, a rogue tear finds its way down my cheek. I take slow steps away from the door and head back the way I came. I begin to pray to whoever will listen. “Please, let me find him.”
“Find who?”
A vibration pulsates throughout my entire body. My skin tingles and my entire being hums. It knows that voice; it responds to that voice the only way it knows how. I turn around and look down the hall, and standing just a few feet by the doorway is a vision, a dream.
Dash.
“Find who?” he asks again with that crooked smile
playing at his lips.
I swallow hard, trying desperately to find my voice. “You,” I whisper.
Before I can move a millimeter, Dash is standing toe to toe with me. His warmth swirls around me, making me feel dizzy. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping when I reopen them I will find this isn’t all a dream and he’s still here.
I open my eyes.
“I’m still here.”
He seems to know what I’m thinking, as always.
“Dash.”
“Shhhh, you don’t…” he begins.
I place my finger on his soft lips. “Yes, yes I do.”
“Okay,” he answers.
“I was scared. I was scared that I wasn’t enough for you. That I wasn’t strong enough to get through all the shit that being with you would throw at me, at us.”
“Jules,” he interrupts.
“Dash, let me just finish, okay?”
He nods.
“I know I shouldn’t have run. That was completely stupid and immature on my part. I should have had more faith in you, in me, in us. I know you’re not Blake, but part of me will always be that insecure girl, and I can’t help that.” I take a deep breath and then another, keeping at bay the emotional tempest trying to emerge. “When I said I needed time, it was the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire existence. The look on your face…” I pause and shake my head, dismissing the image of Dash gripping onto me as if I would fade away.
“It shattered me and I vowed to myself, once I got my head together, once I felt whole and complete again, I would do everything in my power to never, ever see that look on your face again. In the past weeks I have learned many things about myself, some things with the help of a couple of friends…”
Dash smiles and shakes his head, knowing exactly who I’m talking about. It seems as if he’s had the same help as well.
“I’ve learned I am strong enough to stand by you, I am good enough, and I deserve happiness and love and everything being with you entails. I just hope you can forgive me. If you still want me, I’m yours—mind, body, heart, and soul. I love you, Dash Ford, only you,” I finish, and a few tears escape and trail down my flushed cheeks.
Dash steps forward; his hand reaches up, the pad of his thumb erasing my tears. “I can’t survive without my soul,” he says, his voice gravelly.
I peer into his blue eyes and see everything in them: love, lust, want, need, happiness, wholeness, everything. Dash’s hand slips around my neck while his other wraps around my waist, pulling me into him. He leans down, and his lips ghost against mine. My body is set ablaze; every nerve is alive and vibrating.
Our kiss deepens, and it is sweet and tender and full of everything we are both feeling. His tongue sweeps against my bottom lip and, without hesitation, I welcome it with my own. Our tongues tease and dance with the other to the beat our rhythmic hearts are creating. I weave my fingers into his messy hair and pull him closer to me. Dash’s mouth pulls into a smile against mine, and I can’t help but smile, too. We pull away from each other, and his forehead rests against mine. Our breathing is labored and, once again, I feel like I’ve just finished another triathlon.
“Only you,” he echoes my earlier sentiment.
“Only you,” I mimic.
Our lips find each other, and this time our kiss instantly becomes deep, long, and passionate. I am lost in the sensations that are coursing through my body because of this man. Dash pulls away, and my body protests against the loss of contact. “I love you, Sunshine. You are the strongest person I know. Don’t ever doubt that again,” he warns.
I nod. It’s all I can do at the moment; all over functions are null and void thanks to Dash and his touch.
“And no matter what, it’s you and me, always,” he continues.
I nod my head, unable to find the words to answer.
His lips reach for mine, and I give them to him as if I would die if I didn’t. As I give myself to him, everything I have been trying to convey is released: how sorry I am, what I feel for him, how much I need him. I know I was made to love this man, this rock star, and no matter what, with him by my side and a little help from my friends, I can survive anything this crazy rock world throws at me. I melt into our kiss, losing myself in Dash, in us, as it should and always will be.
THE SUN BEGINS to set on the Mediterranean as a yacht lazily floats, the salty water gently lapping on the impressive vessel’s sides. Voices can be heard from somewhere inside as a flock of seagulls make their presence known high above. On the deck, a table sits with dinner laid upon it, forgotten. Two wine glasses hold a deep, red burgundy liquid, and the bottle sits on the table, almost completely empty.
A giggle wafts through the air, and the voices get slightly louder.
Inside the large master suite the sound of spraying water can be heard coming from the bathroom mixed with the sounds of giggles intertwined with the occasional moan. The television is on low, Entertainment Daily News coming on.
Annette Alvarez comes on to the screen. “It’s finally Friday, the twentieth. This is Entertainment Daily News. Our top story tonight; Redemption’s front man Dash Ford and his girlfriend Jules Bennett have officially tied the knot and are rumored to be honeymooning somewhere off the coast of Italy. The nuptials were held on a yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean near the Isle of Capri. Attendees included Vic Rush and Lance Caulfield, members of the band, each given the role of best man. In other news, culinary rising star Chef Becc has been arrested on several counts.”
“It doesn’t look good for him, Annette.”
“No, it doesn’t, Nick. I’m afraid it sounds like his rising star is falling fast with no hopes of soaring every again. More coming after the break…”
Steam floats through the air from the partially opened bathroom door. The glass door to the vast shower stall drips with condensation. Two white, fluffy towels lay atop the vanity waiting patiently for the shower’s occupants to wrap themselves in their warmth. As the steam continues to roll into the air, two figures seem to be joined together as one. A strong hand splays out against the glass door, while long brown hair clings to it.
The moans and growls of love echo in the tiny space, and then all is still. Heavy panting interrupts the silence along with tender words.
“I love you, Mrs. Ford.”
“I love you, Mr. Ford. Only you.”
A Four Letter Word
The Best Man
Sex, Desires & Rock n Roll: Redemption Tour #1
