Songs of Love : Books 1-3

by M J Calabrese

  “Uh, I have to go, okay? I’m meeting someone. Later.”

  Scott was about to speak, but then he realized that David hadn’t disconnected the call. He could hear two men, one was David, but the other man his husband called Emilio.

  “Yeah. Yeah. I got what you want.” Emilio spoke loud enough to be heard over the sound of the waves.

  “How much?”

  “Since you’re such a good customer, Dorian, $300.”

  “What the fuck, Emilio? That’s more….”

  “Hey, you want it or not? I got guys who’ll pay twice this much for snow this pure.”

  Scott closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. David swore to him the night before that he’d quit using, but it was blatantly obvious that wasn’t the case. Hearing enough, he ended the call. He wasn’t in the mood to confront his husband again so he sent him a text message.

  Scott: Sorry, babe, I just got a call from Charles Alvarado, the indie producer I told you about. I have to run up to Montecito and I won’t be back until late tomorrow. If you’re asleep when I get home, I’ll sleep in the guest room and then we can go over to your Mom and Dad’s Christmas morning.

  It took almost an hour for David to respond.

  David: Sure, okay, whatever. Listen, can you grab a gift for Mom? I haven’t got a clue what she might want.

  Scott shook his head. That’s because you haven’t Facetimed her in weeks.

  Scott: Sure, I know what to get her. Listen, if I can’t get away from Charles in time to meet you at home. I’ll text you and we can meet at your parents’ house.

  It took David another hour to respond and then what he typed was gibberish. Scott didn’t bother to call him. Turning the car onto the entrance ramp to the 134 he headed west to the 101. He called Charles Alvarado to let him know he was making an unexpected visit and needed to use his guest casita for a couple of days. With David using, going home was not an option.

  *****

  Scott wasn’t surprised that he got to the Niewitski’s before David did. He lied and told them that David had to meet up with some people last minute.

  “Business, you know.” He signed to David’s Mom.

  The wonderful smells of cinnamon and cloves filled their little house. Warm sunshine filtered through the trees as David’s father, Oscar led the way to the covered back patio. Not much had changed. The wicker furniture looked a little more worn and the arm of one of the chairs had been chewed by a squirrel. The little grove of fruit and avocado trees seemed healthy despite the continuing drought. Of course, all this was due to the hard work of Oscar Niewitski.

  The two men sat side by side, sipping on the beers he pulled from the ice bucket by the table where they would eat.

  “Scott, I want you to answer me honestly.” The older man paused, not looking at Scott. There was a tenseness in his movements that made Scott brace for the question he knew was coming. “Is David doing drugs?”

  Scott glanced over at the man beside him. “Why do you ask that?”

  “He called here at 3 am looking for you. He wasn’t making much sense.” Oscar hesitated before taking another swig of his beer. “If he is, I don’t want his mother to know. It would break her heart.”

  Scott nodded and sighed. He hated the idea of his adopted parents having to suffer what he’d been going through for years, but Oscar was right in asking. He needed to know the truth so he could protect his wife, Betty.

  “Yes, he’s hooked on cocaine. I don’t know what to do, Oscar. He’s OD’d once. He went into rehab, but within a few weeks, he relapsed. He was good when he was in Las Vegas, but then again, he was under contract and they made him take a urine test weekly.”

  The sadness in Oscar’s eyes almost made Scott wish he hadn’t said anything. “I guess that’s a hazard in his profession. I just hoped he was stronger and wouldn’t use. Have you threatened to leave him if he doesn’t stop?”

  “Yeah. It hasn’t worked….” A loud crashing sound made the two men jump up from their wicker chairs and run into the house.

  They found David in the kitchen with his mother. Betty was angry. Tears streaked her flushed face. David was kneeling down as he picked up broken plates from the floor. You’re making a big deal out of nothing, Mom. He signed quickly, but his glassy eyes made it clear what they were arguing about. Betty threw a towel at the son. He reached to catch it but missed. Bright red blood was flowing from his left nostril and he didn’t seem to realize it.

  Why David? Why? You’re high. I know you are. Look at you! Her anger and frustration with her son made her hands move so fast only someone with a lifetime of reading her could’ve kept up. She grabbed the towel from his hand and pressed it against his nose. David tried to move away, but she held on. Suddenly, David pushed his mother. She fell back against the cabinets. Her eyes were wide with surprise at his aggression.

  Scott and Oscar stepped between them. Oscar helped his wife up while Scott pushed David into the living room. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Scott tried to control his frustration but failed. “Couldn’t you have just one day without it, you addicted shit?”

  David shoved Scott hard. He stepped back, chest heaving. Taking his right arm, he wiped his upper lip smearing the blood into a red streak across his face. Confused and angry, David staggered and fell over a chair. Scott looked down at his husband in disgust. He reached out to help him up, but David slapped his hand away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not an addict. I don’t use it all the time.”

  “Yes, you do!” Scott couldn’t stop himself. “You lied to me the day before yesterday. You weren’t in Pasadena. You went to Venice to see Emilio and buy drugs.”

  “How do you know that? Did you follow me?”

  “You left your phone on, Davey. I heard it all. And I bet that was gone by dinner yesterday. Not that you eat anything anymore. Look at you! You’re 6’3” Davey and you look like crap! You used to care how you looked. Now…, now you look like a junkie on the street. You stink. You don’t shave. Fuck, David! Look at yourself.”

  David turned to storm out of the house, but there in the doorway was his mother. Her face showing the devastation she was feeling inside. David stopped, sucking in his lower lip, he started to sign, but she cut him off.

  You are breaking my heart, David. Please, I love you so much. You’re my only child. I don’t want to lose you. Please, stop. Please. With this, she dropped to her knees, grabbing his pant leg. “Pease…, Davey. Beg you. Killing me.”

  David’s face crumpled as he squatted in front of her. He reached down and pulled his weeping mother into his arms. He rocked her and stroked her hair as he tried to comfort her.

  “David.” Oscar reached down to take his wife’s arm as he helped her to stand. The older man shook his head, tears flowed unchecked. “We love you, son, but we can’t watch you do this to yourself. I know from the kids I work with, if you don’t want to get clean, you won’t. You can’t do it for me or your mother or Scotty. You have to do it for yourself.”

  Betty collapsed against her husband, moaning as she sobbed. “I have to draw a line, David. She can’t take this after her heart attack. I’ll do whatever I must to protect her so I don’t think you should call or come by if you’re using. Understand, son? Now, I think you should leave.” The older man turned, giving his wife the support she needed to make it to the bedroom they’d shared for more than 15 years.

  David stood silent, trembling as he watched them disappear into their room. He looked down, lips sucked in, trapped between his teeth as a tear began to form in his eyes. He stood there, unmoving until Scott turned the handle on the front door. He looked back at David, waiting for him to follow. Scott was surprised when David reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of cocaine and a tiny spoon.

  “Here. Take this. Get rid of it. Then call and see if you can get me into that rehab down in the desert. You know the one. If they will take me today, I’ll go, otherwise….” He left his words hanging
.

  Scott took the vial and spoon. Walking back into the kitchen, he turned on the cold water and rinsed the vial. Breaking the spoon, he tossed both in the trash. He had to Google the number to the rehab in Rancho Mirage, but one call got him in. Scott later realized it was probably because he’d used David’s stage name. Sometimes being a celebrity did have its advantages. They stopped at the house to pack a bag with comfortable clothes, David’s glasses, a pair of sandals and a carton of cigarettes. About two hours later, they were signing papers to admit David to their inpatient program to detox him. The two men sat together on a hallway bench waiting for David’s room to be readied.

  “Tell Mom and Dad I’m sorry I ruined Christmas. Tell them I love them.”

  “If you get clean and stay that way, it will be the best Christmas they ever had. Trust me, Davey. They love you. I love you.” He wrapped his arm around his husband’s shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss on the side of his head. “I know how hard this will be for you, but we are here for you, babe. They said you could call us in a couple of weeks. Just do what they tell you. I want my Davey back. He’s a pretty great guy when he’s clean.”

  David snickered, “I’m a fuck up, Scotty. But I get it. I know I can’t keep doing this. I’m not crazy or suicidal. I’m an addict.”

  One of the counselors motioned for David to come with her. They stood and Scott gave his husband one more kiss before David turned and followed the young woman to his room.

  *****

  David stayed the course for 60 days. They kept him inhouse for three weeks then he transferred to a nearby apartment for the remaining time. On his last day, he was standing outside the facility’s door as Scott drove up. A hug and a kiss were given in greeting before David threw his bags in the back seat. He belted himself into the passenger seat as they headed out. Scott looked over at his quiet husband. He didn’t try to make conversation. They had talked almost every night after David took up residence in the apartment, but things had changed between them and neither of them wanted to think about what that would mean for their future together. David had leaned back his seat and closed his eyes. He looked much better. He had gained back some of the weight his addiction caused him to lose. His skin and eyes were clear.

  “Do you want to go straight home? Or get something to eat?”

  David didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Home. I have to go to a meeting at 7 pm. One a day for the next 30 days.” He sighed.

  Scott nodded and took his husband home.

  Chapter Twelve

  September 16, 2016

  The smell of tomatoes, basil and garlic permeated the air. Scott ended the call he was on and turned to stir the large pot of spaghetti sauce he had simmering on the stove.

  “Well, it looks like you’re going to get to meet David, my husband, after all, Trevor. He’s only about 5 minutes away.”

  The young, sandy-haired man stood up from his chair at the kitchen table. “Is there anything I can help you with? Garlic bread or the pasta?”

  Scott shook his head. “Nope. I have it all under control.”

  Suddenly the door burst open and a whirlwind of leather and chains stormed down the hall into the family room. “God-fucking-damn! Scotty that bastard is stealing from us again. I’m going to fire his ass. I swear it!” David ripped his torn leather coat from his naked torso and threw it into the corner by the couch. He turned, anger etching his features until he saw the wide-eyed younger man standing at the table. Startled, David took a step back. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t know anyone, but Scott was here.”

  Scott looked up from the pot of water he’d set on to boil for the pasta, unfazed by his husband’s tirade. “David, this is Trevor. Trevor, this is my husband David also known as the notorious Dorian Gray.”

  David smiled and extended his hand, “Trevor? The Trevor? The one who’s saved your sorry ass so many times I’ve lost count? Mister Organized Trevor?”

  “Yep, the very one.”

  Trevor stood there not moving. He had a distinct deer-in-the-headlights look as he stared at his rock god hero. “Oh, my God! You’re Dorian Gray! The Dorian Gray. I am sooo in love with you. I’ve got every one of your albums. I’ve been to your concerts. Holy Crap! I’ve talked to you on the phone like dozens of times and I never knew?”

  “You never told him who I was?” David frowned, turning to his husband.

  Scott came out of the kitchen and wrapped an arm around Trevor’s shoulders, gently he guided him forward toward David. “He meets big-name stars all the time and it doesn’t ruffle his calm, cool demeanor, but you? Look at him.” Scott grinned, “Must be how bad you smell right now.” He squished up his nose and pretended to fan away the odor with his hand. “Jesus, David. Go take a shower.”

  At this, David reached out and shook Trevor’s hand, “Well, I’m glad I have a face to go with the name when you call in the future. It was nice to finally meet you if you aren’t here when I get out of the shower.”

  “He’ll be here. He’s staying for dinner.”

  David looked up. “Oh, great. Listen this whole Larry thing has to be a group decision. The guys are on their way over after they get cleaned up. Is there enough to feed them as well?”

  Scott nodded. “If I can get Boy Wonder here to help me make more garlic bread real quick. Come on, Trev.”

  Trevor watched David disappear around the corner as he headed toward the master suite before he turned back to Scott. “Is the whole band going to be here? Is Absinthe coming here?”

  “Sounds like it. I hope it doesn’t include wives and girlfriends in this meeting of the minds. Not sure we’d have enough to feed that hungry mob. I’m glad they’re going to do something about Larry though.”

  “Larry Wong, their manager?”

  “Yeah, he’s got a gambling problem. They caught him taking kickbacks from vendors a couple of years ago, looks like he’s back to his old tricks.”

  “Aren’t all the band members gay?”

  “Naw, just David and Christian.”

  Trevor nodded as a smile of pure joy graced his face. To him, in this moment, Scott Newland was a god. Not only did he meet Dorian Gray, but Absinthe would be here shortly and they were hungry. Trevor hurried to give Scott a hand in the kitchen.

  *****

  Scott watched Trevor as he opened the door to each of the other members of David’s band. The younger man’s face reflected the joy at meeting his teenage idols. He was proud of the way Trevor held himself back from asking too many questions, but his assistant’s nervous energy was palpable. Scott set the table with a huge bowl of pasta, sauce, and meatballs on the side with warm, fresh garlic bread and salad optional. Wine was offered but refused by most of the band. Scott later explained that after David got out of rehab the last time, they’d all decided to cut back or cut out alcohol.

  “So one of the subcontractors contacted you wanting to get paid?” Muse stuffed another piece of garlic bread in his mouth.

  “Yeah, just like three years ago.” David kept whirling his fork, trying to pick up the spaghetti and sauce. “I checked with Nouri Ahmed, our accountant,” David explained to Trevor. “He said he gave the money to pay the guy to Larry. Larry told him the guy insisted on cash, but the guy says he never got paid and that he’d asked Larry to pay him by check. You all know we can’t get that type of reputation. We’ve got a full four months in Canada and if he’s not paying our vendors, we’re screwed. Larry could walk away, but we’d be responsible in the end. That’s money out of all our pockets.”

  Stitch stabbed at another meatball, “I’ve got kids in private school and that isn’t cheap, plus child support and alimony to my ex. I need this tour to do well.”

  “The problem is if we fire Larry, who do we get to manage us for the road tour? That’s four months plus wrap up, so basically five months with no guarantee of another tour for a year or more. People who can organize us and get people paid, hire vendors, essentially make everyone happy are hard to find.” Christian slice
d a chunk of lettuce, cutting it in half.

  Scott frowned then he looked up at Trevor. The young man sat there beside David, quietly listening, but he could see the way he was sucking in his lower lip, he wanted to speak and Scott was pretty sure he knew what he wanted to say.

  “Trevor could do it.”

  David looked at his husband, “What? Really?”

  “It’s what he does, Davey. This boy works miracles with a spreadsheet. He’s detail-oriented. He knows how to talk to people and best of all, I’m in the preproduction stage for this new film and I really don’t need him. Five months should be about right, then he’s back and assisting me on the film.” Scott looked at Trevor, “That is if you feel you can do it.”

  Trevor laid his fork down and looked at the other men at the table. “I could do it. I mean, I don’t have anything going right now and I’m trying to buy a house in Studio City so the extra money would come in handy.”

  David looked at his bandmates. Silently, he met each man’s eyes and as he did, each nodded. “Okay, but Trevor this is a five-month commitment. We had one guy, a long time ago, that left us mid-tour because he was breaking up with his girlfriend. Are you sure you can do this?”

  “I’ve been doing the exact same thing for your husband for the past three years besides I’m not in a relationship. I don’t have a boyfriend and even though finding one is on my list, I can wait five months to do that.”

  “So you don’t have a boyfriend?” Christian turned his most charming smile on the young man sitting next to him. Trevor blushed.

  David got up and brought an ink pen and a pad of paper back to the table. “Trevor, this….” he scribbled a number on the piece of paper and handed it over to Scott’s assistant, “is what we pay Larry. If that amount is alright with you plus if you do a great job, we’ll give you a bonus when the tour is wrapped up. This is 24/7 work, Trev and we’re a bunch of divas.”