by N Kuhn
“Oh,” Aiden says, looking over to me. I just shrug my shoulders. It’s not like I can say no to my father. I want to see my parents my first night home, just as much as I’d like to see Aiden.
“I thought we were going to the Country Club?” he asks me, as his jaw clenches. Taking a step back from him, I look over at my father and smile.
“Daddy thought it would be nice for all of us to go together, so I can see my parents, since I’ve only just got back into town.”
“Well Sir, I look forward to dinner.” Sitting down in one of the chairs across from my father’s desk, he makes himself comfortable. My dad gives me a questioning glance, and I just smile. Making a mental note, I need to talk to Aiden alone and find out what his problem is.
After my mothers’ arrival, I ride to the restaurant with Aiden.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, looking over at him. His hands are clenched so tightly to the steering wheel, his knuckles are white.
“I just think you could look more presentable. You represent both of us when you go out. It’s also not very good that you’re seen with other men, especially when I was so excited to see you. You just got home, hadn’t even unpacked and were hanging out with that guy. Isn’t he friends with your scum bag ex?” He glares at me. Wishing he could keep his eyes on the road, I let his words wash over me. Look more presentable? I thought I looked nice. I had curled my hair, so it hung over my shoulders in tendrils, it felt romantic.
“Bentley is my friend too. I told you, I’ve known him most of my life. Are you telling me who I can and can’t be friends with now?”
“I’m just saying, use your head sometimes. You go to law school but act like an airheaded teenager sometimes.” Wow, I thought that my personality was part of why he liked me so much.
Dinner passed with a little tension. Aiden didn’t seem himself, but thankfully my parents either didn’t notice, or just didn’t say anything. Aiden suggested I ride home with them, he had things to do. When we got back to the house, my mother asked me to sit outside with tea and catch up. Curling my legs underneath me on the porch swing, I wrap my hands around the warm cup.
“What was wrong with Aiden tonight? He seemed to be in a mood,” she inquires.
“I don’t know. He seems different. Several times today, he made comments that shocked me. Maybe he was upset that Bentley stopped by.”
“Maybe he was just jealous. Bentley is an attractive boy. You’re a beautiful woman. You should be happy he cares enough to be jealous.”
“I don’t know if that’s what is was mom. Do you think I gained weight? The freshman fifteen?”
“Good heavens dear, why would you ask that? Of course not. You look amazing. I loved your hair tonight.” Deciding to keep Aiden’s comments to myself, I just smile at my mother. We sat outside, watching the stars pop out, silently enjoying each other’s company. I’ve made up my mind. My next break, Travis’ band will be in LA. I think some of my girlfriends from school will enjoy going on a mini vacation. I booked my flight already, figuring they can grab seats if they want in. I made up my mind to talk to him. My only fear, is running into Stacey and how that will play out. That will only end up being a whole lot of heartache in one room. I also don’t plan on telling Aiden. Lord knows how he will react to that. Considering his temperament today, I don’t want to deal with it. That’s something else I’ll have to think about long and hard. Whether or not he really is right for me. His attitude lately makes me think that there’s something wrong with him, I just don’t know what. Maybe because he isn’t Travis. No one is.
Arriving in LA at the concert, I’m stoked. My roommate from school came with me. Kate. She’s normally quiet, but lives for adventure. You would never know to look at her though. Normally dressed in jeans, hoodies and flats, she now wears a tight black dress. This is the first time I realized what a rocking body she has hid under there this whole time. Our seats are near the front. As the band takes the stage, and the first chord of the guitar is struck, it reverberates through my entire body. It’s like my pussy and my brain are at war. I want Travis, need him. But my head knows that I’ll only be hurt again. Then, all hell breaks loose in the arena.
Chapter 8
Travis Tour Stop Los Angeles
“Travis, the tour is wrapping up. You need to sign the papers if you expect to have a tour of your own.” Duke stands over me. Dropping my feet onto the coffee table in front of me, I stare up at him.
“Duke, what’s the label need this shit for? This is Rock N Roll. There’s a lifestyle that comes with it. Did they pull this shit with my dad or do they think I’m stupid enough to fall for it?”
“Trav, listen. She was fired from a law firm job for Heroin use. There are pictures of the two of you using, and fucking. She spends all her time at your side. We can’t worry about losing an up and coming star because some druggie groupie drags them down. We have invested too much into you. It’s just not going to happen. You accept the contracts with the drug testing, or you don’t get a deal. We end all association and business. You can go back to your shit hole in Black Rock, and mow lawns.” Duke had been the only person other than Stacey I told about those. She seems to have all but forgotten them, but Duke was pissed. First of all, because we were dumb enough to do it somewhere photos could be taken, and second because I waited a week to tell him.
The rage boils inside of my stomach like a fire building intensity.
“Did you just fucking call my girlfriend a druggie groupie? You better learn some fucking respect. You saw what I did to Jeremy. Don’t think I won’t do it to you too.” Duke takes a step back.
“Trav, you need to sign,” he sheepishly says. “Getting mad at me isn’t going to change that.”
“What if I fail?” I ask him. We both know I will.
“Then we put you in rehab for thirty days and tell the label you’re better. It’s not a big deal. Stars do it all the time. Take a month to write some more songs, come out, and we push the new and improved Travis on the fans.”
“Where?”
“Where what Trav?” he replies, looking at me confused.
“Where would I have to go to rehab? I don’t want to stay in LA. I hate it here. I want to be back in Buffalo. I hate this damn heat.”
“Deal, now sign.” He thrusts the papers in front of me. I see Max and Bas have already signed. Maybe they will make it there with me. Scratching my name onto the paper, I throw them back at Duke. Staring at them as they float to the floor, I can hear his exasperated sigh and mumbling under his breath.
“Test is tomorrow at nine am. They will come to you at the hotel. Be ready. Drink lots of water.” Without looking back, he hastily exits my dressing room.
Collapsing into the couch, I stare into nothing, sipping on a drink in my hand. The amber heaven creates a fire in my throat as it slides down, warming my stomach, and pooling in my middle. A knock on the door pulls me from my daze. Stacey lets herself in. Her red mini dress is falling slightly from her shoulders and riding up her ass, revealing the pink thong she’s wearing underneath. Lifting my cross necklace, I untwist it, pulling out the spoon, and blasting me a quick line. The powder coats my throat as I swallow it down and it feels great. She tosses an envelope on the table.
“Hey babe,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her onto my lap. She’s so tiny, and her clothes that used to be tight, look baggy.
“Ready for your pick me up before we see what’s in this one?” she asks me, pulling out the little velvet bag that held our needles and stash. Preparing a dose for me, my liquid courage to get on stage and rock out, I sit on the couch, and think about what I had just signed.
“Where did it come from?” I inquire. Shrugging her shoulders, she doesn’t answer. Grabbing her chin, I force her to look into my face. Her eyes are bloodshot and sunken. Dark circles for bags under them.
“Some roadie gave it to me. I don’t fucking know Trav.” Pushing my hand off her face, she returns to prepping th
e syringe. Picking up the package, I tear into it. It’s me, Stacey and some groupie we picked up back in Mesa, Arizona. The three of us screwing and shooting up. Throwing them as hard as I can, I curse under my breath.
“Where the fuck is this person hiding? How are they getting these photos? I’m sick of this. There’s not even any damn notes or instructions. If they want money I’ll give it to them. But this stupid game is just irritating me. If I find out who this scumbag is, I’m going to knock their head off.” Stacey stops me from pacing the room, fear in her eyes.
“Its ok babe, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at whoever this sicko is.” Kneeling back down at the table, she resumes what she’s doing. Heating the liquid on the spoon, prepping the needles. Sitting back down on the couch, I try to ease my shakiness by holding my glass. Having poured another drink, it’s instantly gone, tossed down my throat in one shot.
“I’m going to have to go to rehab babe.” Stacey looks at me, confused.
“What do you mean? Why? That’s fucked up. We have a good thing here. Why do you want to ruin it?” Is she worried about me or is she worried about her free ride, and drug atm?
“The label is making me take a drug test tomorrow. They will make me go to rehab before setting up another tour for us.” Lifting my gaze, I see curiosity in her eyes.
“What about me?” she inquires angrily. There it is, she’s worried about herself.
“What do you mean, what about you?” Grabbing her arm, I shake her. “Don’t you get it? I have to do this or I lose my contract, my career, everything. No contract, no money. When I get out, it will all be like it is now. You on tour with me, and us partying. I just have to do this or they won’t give me another tour.”
Wrenching her arm away from me, the spot my hand left is already turning red.
“I’m sorry babe. Ok, but you just said something really dumb. Who the fuck says that? You’re worried about partying and I’m worried about my future. Don’t you get it? This isn’t about partying. I can’t keep my contract if I don’t do it.”
“I don’t know if I can wait Trav.”
“It’s thirty days Stacey. Seriously? What, you going back to that jack ass Jeremy? He better than me? He beat your ass in public. You ran from him. I went to jail for you. You need to find someone to sleep with to get you drugs? I’ll leave you some damn money. Come on, can’t wait?”
“Well then,” she says, with a smile tugging at her lips, “Let’s make tonight count.” The bad feeling starts in my stomach and soon is consuming me. Can’t wait huh? Who says that? Certainly not someone who cares about me. Shrugging it off, I look over to her as she prepares my jolt of heaven. Maybe she’s just upset about these damn photos that seem to be piling up.
Pumping me full of the fluid, Stacey heads out to wait in the wings off stage. She watches every show we do. I can always see her there, dancing and swaying to our music. The little pill she had handed me before leaving is blue and has an anchor on it. The Ecstasy pill will definitely give my night a bang. Tossing it in my mouth, I chew it, and wash it down with a glass of whiskey. Jumping up from the couch, I grab my guitar, the one my father had given me. Making my way to the stage, I can hear the crowd chanting.
“Travis, Travis, Travis.” There’s no rush like hearing thousands of fans screaming your name. Sometimes the guys get jealous that it’s all about me. But, I’m the lead singer, and that’s just how things go. They can come along for the ride, or get lost. I don’t need them. I’m powerful enough on my own. Since I write ninety percent of our songs, and music, they are just accessories to me.
Peeking my head around the curtain, looking out into the crowd, I can’t always remember what city we are in, but it’s packed here in LA. The one city I’ll never forget. I belong here. Looks to be sold out, as all of our shows have been. Everyone wants a glimpse of me, the son of the great Marcus Dane. He wears some big shoes to fill. The lights in the stadium dim, and the crowd goes nuts. The sound of cheering pounds against my ears and my head feels like I’m swimming. Things seem to move in slow motion. Every touch, every sensation around me is felt tenfold. That must be some strong E, because it’s kicking in hardcore. Bas and Max walk by me, Max bumping my shoulder, but not looking back. The whiskey in my glass sloshes over my hand. He’s been acting odd this whole tour. Bas looks back at me, shrugging his shoulders. Who cares, I’m the star. They take their place on stage, and I stand, awaiting my grand entrance. Starting up the drums, then slowly the bass, a spotlight appears, shining down on my mic. Gradually, I make my way there, and the crowd goes silent, waiting for me to start. Chugging the rest of my drink, I toss the glass to a security guard waiting below the stage.
Strumming my first note sends a ripple of excitement through me, and the audience. That first note gets them all to their feet, and as the cheering and chanting gets louder, Travis. Travis. Travis. I tune them out. Gearing up, I feel everything injected or swallowed start to course through my veins. I’m sure more than one pair of panties just got soaked. That’s what Britt always told me, I soak her panties every time I sang. We had the most amazing sex after each show.
Comin' at you girl
Can't you see
Comin' at you girl
You are for me
Comin' at you girl
No place to hide
Comin' at you
So share the ride
Comin' at you girl
Love your looks
Comin' at you girl
Leave your books
Comin' at you girl
Look at me
Comin' at you girl
What do you see
Gonna ride your body
No place to hide
Gonna ride your body
Enjoy the trip
Gonna ride your body
You for me
Gonna ride your body
I'll set you free
Come for me baby
We can both be free
Glancing into the wings, I see Stacey, thrashing along to the music. But my thoughts are invaded by Britt. Picturing her blonde hair swaying as her hips move and grind. Feeling her lips on me.
Between songs, I step back stage, where Stacey has another pill and an ice cold beer for me. As both slide down my throat, my heart races and I’m amped up. My whole body vibrates with the potent release that they bring me. Hands begin to shake, and wobbling, I make my way back to the mic. I know this song, it was one of the first I ever wrote. For some reason though, my mind goes blank, and I can’t remember the words. Looking out over the masses of people, screaming, waving their arms, my vision goes blurry. Images of Brittany flash before my eyes, and I know it’s just my mind playing tricks. I’m in LA for fuck’s sake. I know she isn’t here. But she looks real, as does the look of fear in her bright blue eyes. Feeling myself fall is the strangest thing. I know it’s happening, but can’t stop it from occurring. As I feel a sharp pain flash through my head, everything goes black.
Hearing all the noise surround me, I try to open my eyes. There’s a beep and it’s annoying. Attempting to roll over, I think it’s my alarm clock, but my hand can’t seem to find it, or my dresser. A pinching sensation shoots up my arm. Laying it back down on the bed, my head throbs. Man, I must have over done it last night. My hand moves slowly up to my face, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I finally peel them open. The room is dark, but I immediately can tell it’s not my bedroom. Where the hell am I? It smells like antiseptic and bleach. Trying to turn my head, I feel dizzy. Looking up and around, the only things I can see are white ceiling tiles, and a green light floating into the room. Bringing my hand back up in front of my line of sight, there’s tubes sticking out of it. What the hell is this? What’s going on? Tugging at them with my other arm, the beeping and the alarm sound get louder. My head hurts more with each loud clang.
From somewhere past my feet, I hear a door open, and feet pounding on the floor. None of the voices are making any sense. An unfamiliar face appears to ho
ver over me. As I try to get my gaze to focus, a light flashes, and temporarily blinds me. I allow myself to fall back into oblivion, my world going dark once again.
The beeping noise blasts my ear drums again. My head still pounds. Trying to raise my head again, my arm won’t move. Peeling my eyes open, I see restraints. Tugging as hard as I can, my arms don’t move. What is going on? Where am I? A gray haired man appears over my head. Closing my eyes, I must still be asleep. I’m dreaming.
“Travis, I’m Doctor Saldo. You’ve been admitted to the hospital. Nod if you can hear me.” My throat feels constricted and scratchy. Trying to speak, he waves a hand at me.
“Don’t try to talk, there’s a tube in your throat. I’ll have a nurse remove it shortly, just please nod if you understand.” Shaking my head, I hear him, but I don’t understand what’s going on. He must have seen the question in my eyes, because he continues.
“You passed out on stage Travis. They brought you in here, and we had to pump your stomach. You had an over dose of ecstasy, mixed with heroin and whiskey. You’re lucky to be alive. You’re restrained to the bed because you pulled out your IV and could have caused a lot of damage to yourself, had your father not been in here with you. I am willing to release you from here in a few days, and Duke tells me you’ll be going to a rehab. I advised them you need a week of recovery before you can fly. So keep that in mind. In a week, you’ll be allowed to fly back to Buffalo to the rehab you and your manager choose. There’s a young lady who’s been sitting in the hallway since you were brought in. As soon as the nurse is done cleaning you up, I’ll allow a fifteen minute visit. Ok?” I can only nod my head.
