by K. L. Myers
We stare at each other like two kids having a stare off. Neither of us willing to blink and let the other win. But Cayson gives in first. “You know if you need anything, all you have to do is ask. Doesn’t matter that Kayla is with me. I’m here for you if you need me.”
I reach over and clasp my hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, CJ, that means a lot, but I’m going to be okay.” Even as I say the words, I don’t really believe them.
I look over my shoulder as Cayson walks away and see that Rusty is sitting next to Kayla. Cayson stops just short of his chair and once again motions for Rusty to get up. I watch as Rusty makes his way back to the seat beside me and starts complaining about having to move seats repeatedly. I tune him out, tapping on the table in front of me with my sticks. Crack, pop, crack, pop. The sound of my sticks echoes through the fuselage. Crack, pop, rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat.
With each motion of my wrist, I feel the tension release from my body as we make the descent into Changi Airport. My hands move faster, and the beat gets harder as the plane screeches to a halt. I want to text Kathy to let her know that we’ve arrived, but I won’t. She walked out on me, so she’s made her point perfectly clear. Even though I’m the one who told her to leave. If there were anything between us, she would have stayed and waited for me to calm down. She would have fought for us. So, regardless of what I said, her actions spoke louder than her words ever would.
24
Kathy
My phone vibrates with an incoming text. It is eight in the morning in Singapore, and Rusty has just landed.
RUSTY: Just wanted to let you know we landed and we’re here.
I shoot a quick text back, letting him know that I received his, and I do the unthinkable without even hesitating. I ask how Rocky is doing. Rusty replies letting me know that Rocky is not doing well, and he thinks I should at least send a text letting him know that I’m glad they made it there alright. I can’t bring myself to do that right now, not until I’m one hundred percent sure of exactly how I feel about the man. I quickly shoot back another text telling Rusty that I’ll do nothing of the sort and that I’ll keep in touch.
I place my phone on my desk and take a few moments to compose myself. I want to reach out to Rocky more than anything, but I can’t do that yet. It wouldn’t be fair to him to let him think that I want something long term. I know for sure that I feel something for him, and I very possibly could be falling for him, but am I ready to be in a relationship? Normally, I’d call Kayla for coffee, and we’d meet, and she’d help me sort out my concerns. Unfortunately, that is not an option for me today since she is with everyone in Asia.
Why is it that every time you want to avoid something or someone, it seems like they are everywhere you go? I think to myself. My afternoon client shows up with their teenage daughter, and wouldn’t you know it, she is wearing a Razor’s Edge T-shirt. Then, on my way home, Rocking Between the Sheets is playing on the radio. When I get home later that night and turn on the television, the Ozzy Osborne show is on. That makes me think of rock bands, which then makes me think of Razor’s Edge, and then all I can think about is Rocky, making it hard for me to fall asleep.
The next day, things seem like they are going just fine, until I get home and do laundry. What do I find but the Razor’s Edge T-shirt I have stolen from Rocky to wear home. Not wanting to spend another minute over-analyzing what is happening in my life, I call my neighbor Becka.
“Hey, you busy? Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” I’m trying not to sound desperate, but my voice comes across wobbly, and she immediately picks up on it.
“Is everything alright with you, Kathy?” Becka asks.
I’m not as close to Becka as I am to Kayla, so the last thing I want is to discuss anything this personal with her, so I lightheartedly reply, “Yeah, everything's fine. I’m just looking for a dinner partner tonight, that’s all. So, do you want to go with me?”
Becka is quick to jump at the opportunity, saying she heard of a place from colleagues at work that we should try. Since I’ve got no idea what it is that I’m hungry for, just that I’m hungry, I agree to try any place she’d like to go to. My stomach rolls when I realize she’s just pulled the car into Zinburger.
“This is the place you wanted to try?” I ask.
“Yeah, everyone at work says they have the best menu. You know they’re number one on the New Times best burger joints, don’t you?” Becka announces as she turns off the car.
Being a good neighbor and friend, I suck it up and tell her I’ve had their burgers and they are the best around. “The burgers are the best here. I had one from here a couple of weeks ago, and it was so good I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”
When I get home, I shower and get ready for bed. I’m done with the universe giving me hints, so I shoot off a text to Rocky.
ME: Hi! I just wanted to say hi and see how it’s going.
It’s nine p.m. here, which makes it noon the next day in Singapore. I checked before I sent the text. I googled to make sure that I’d be reaching Rocky at a time when he would be able to reply, but I never receive a response. For the first time, I feel the pain of being alone.
25
Rocky
It’s been several days since our plane touched down in Singapore. The first night, I ignored Rusty’s requests to cut back on the booze and drank until I passed out. I swear it was just as bad as having Ellie with me. Every time I turned around, Rusty would say, “Don’t you think you should slow down?” or “Maybe you should make this your last one.” I’m not sure at what point he gave up completely and just sat and gave me the evil eye all night long. I don’t give two shits about his evil eye because who can say if it’s because of the drinking or the redhead who’s sitting in my lap? Yeah, she had no business being there, but eight drinks into the night, and Rusty could have been sitting in my lap, and I wouldn’t have given a shit. I just didn’t want to feel alone. Enter: the redhead.
It isn’t until the redhead reaches between her tits and pulls out an acrylic sniffer she stashed there that Rusty is out of his chair and grabbing the girl by her arm. “I think you should leave now,” he tells her as he escorts her toward our security. The music is loud in the bar, so I can’t hear what it is she is saying to him, but I’m sure it isn’t pleasant. I lose count of how many more drinks I down once she is gone, but the last thing I remember before passing out is Cayson and Rusty dumping my ass in bed.
When I wake up the next morning, I feel just like I felt for the last several years. Hungover and hating life. The only thing that cures this feeling is more alcohol. I suppose you’re wondering where I’d get alcohol at eleven in the morning. Well, didn’t you know, when you’re famous, you get whatever you want and quickly. One call to room service, and ten minutes later, there are two bottles of McCallan being delivered to my room. I pour myself three fingers into a glass and sit looking over the city as I swallow the liquid. I know I just need enough to take the edge off and nothing more. As much as I hate how I feel, I also know that we have a sound check and run-through in a couple of hours.
I sit behind my drums beating out a rhythm and sweating whiskey from my pores. My shirt is drenched by the time we complete the run-through for the night. I reek of BO and booze to the point that even I can’t stand the smell of myself. At one point during rehearsal, we had to take a break, so I could down a couple of bottles of water. I knew the guys wanted to give me shit, but they didn’t. They’ve all been in my shoes at least once or twice. When we’re done, Cayson makes sure to give me the standard lecture about priorities and making sure I have my shit together by tonight's performance.
“Look, I know you’re going through some shit right now, Rock, but I need you to get it together by tonight. Don’t forget, if your time is off, the rest of us are off. You’ve got to set the pace. We can’t do this without you.”
This is the pressure I’m talking about. It’s always me who has to keep his shit together, and I’m the least li
kely person in this band to be able to do that. It’s the pressure once again to be perfect. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. Back home for those four weeks with Kathy, I didn’t feel this way. Yes, the pressure was still there during rehearsals, but knowing that I’d be seeing her later made everything around me so much more tolerable.
“Yeah, CJ, I get it. You don’t have to remind me. I’ll have my shit together by tonight.”
I storm out of the building with Rusty once again following me. “Rock, shake it off,” he says while catching up to me. “Don’t let it get to you. Come on, let's grab some lunch. You’ll feel better once you have something in your stomach.”
By show time, I’ve calmed myself down mentally. I chug a bottle of water as we make our way to the stage. This leg of the tour, we’ve reverted to having me rise from below the stage. My drum set and I are locked into a metal sphere made of pipe. Our first song starts with a drum solo. All the guys are on stage except for Cayson and me. The smoke pours from the stage while the red lights swirl around. The stage opens, and I start to rise. I’m beating on my sticks, setting the tempo for Tim and Neil. The sound of the electric guitar screaming tells me it’s time for me to go to town. The crowd screams louder the further I rise until I’m locked into place center stage. Strobe lights begin to flash behind me, and Cayson begins his ascent onto the stage. His section is directly behind me, but when everything is said and done, he’ll be stepping off his pedestal and standing on top of my cage for this song. I lose myself in the music and feel the pure joy of playing. I no longer feel the pressure of being perfect. Second nature kicks in, and I go to town enjoying every moment the sticks are in my hands.
26
Rocky
When the last note is played, the lights go down, and I climb out from the cage and join the rest of the band on stage. One of the roadies lights the path for us, and we are joined by our security team escorting us back behind the stage to one of the dressing rooms. Once again, I’m sweating bullets, only this time, there is no smell of whiskey pouring from my skin, just the stench of my own body odor, confirming once again that I gave the performance I was expected to give.
The first thing I do when I’m back at the hotel is to grab one of the bottles of McCallan and pour myself a tumbler full to the top. I tip the glass and swallow the liquid in one big gulp. The next thing I do is strip out of my sweat-soaked clothing and shower. This is the time when I need to be winding down for the night, but the thought of being confined to a hotel room sounds like prison to me. In my state of mind, I don’t want to be alone. There’s a knock at my door, and I know it’s Rusty. I open the door and find him standing there with his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.
“Want to hang out for a bit.” It’s not a question but more of a statement, letting me know that I don’t get the option of being alone.
“Yeah, come in.”
Rusty immediately spies the bottle sitting on the table and turns to me. “You self-medicating again?”
The question has a double meaning, and I understand what he is asking. He wants confirmation that booze is the only thing I’ve had and that I’m not slipping back into an old pattern. I reassure him that whiskey has been my drug of choice tonight and that he has nothing to worry about. Only I’m not telling him the whole truth. He should worry, but not about my addiction to drugs. After four weeks of spending ninety percent of my time waking up with his sister, I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to go without hearing from her. I so badly want to call her, but she made it clear that things were moving too fast for her and we have only been a tour break romance. Just saying it to myself in my head has me frustrated once again.
“Hang if you want, Rusty. I’m going downstairs to the bar.”
I don’t wait for a response from him. I just open the door to my suite and head toward the elevators. Once in the lobby, I see there are several bars to choose from. The last thing I want is to deal with the attention I’ll find in a crowded bar. Lucky enough, there is a cigar bar toward the back of the lobby. It's dark and quiet, so I check the door. The stench of smoke fills the room the moment I walk in. The walls are all done in mahogany wood and maroon leather. A few patrons sit at a table drinking and smoking. They look like businessmen winding down after a big business deal, and they all glance my way as I walk by. I’m sure they are wondering who I am, dressed in ratty jeans and a T-shirt. I sure as fuck don’t fit in with the environment around me. I take a table in the back, and a stunningly leggy blonde walks up.
“What can I get for you, sir?”
I grab the laminated card on the table which lists all the types of cigars they have and the lists of beverages. I glance up to catch that her name tag spells Lisa. “I’ll have a Cuban and a Covoseie, Lisa, and anything else you’d like to offer me.” Yeah, I’m flirting with her, and she picks up on it. Lisa flashes me a shy smile before she walks away. Moments later, she returns with a tumbler of liquid and my cigar.
I sit for hours drinking down one glass after the other. The more I drink, the more I think of Kathy, and the more I think of her, the angrier I get. By closing time, I have decided that I’m going to screw Kathy out of my memory bank, and Lisa doesn’t know it yet, but she will be just the person I need to fulfill my plan.
As Lisa and I exit the bar, I fling my arm around her shoulder and whisper in her ear, “My room?” She replies with a simple nod of her head. The lobby is sparse with people checking in this hour of the night as we pass through. As we approach a pillar by the elevators, I stop and press Lisa’s body up against it and kiss her roughly. My hands pull at her hair as my teeth bite her bottom lip, drawing a small amount of blood. The iron taste only heightens my desire for her more. The ding of the elevator sounds its arrival, breaking our kiss. The elevator is empty when it arrives, and when I press the number for the thirty-second floor, the doors close, allowing us the privacy we need. I have Lisa up against the wall, my hands sliding the hem of her skirt up around her waist. She’s wearing a tiny black G-string that I rip from her body as I plunder her mouth. Her moans of excitement only drive my desire higher and higher.
“I dare you to fuck me right now, Rocky,” she baits me. Only the joke is on her if she thinks I won’t follow through. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a condom, then sheathe myself and drive into her soaking pussy. The dinging of the floors sets the pace for each of my thrusts. When we hit the thirty-second floor, I’m ready to fill her with my load. I don’t care if she is ready or not. This is all about me tonight and what I can take from her to erase my thoughts of Kathy. The doors slide open, exposing us to the single passenger that awaits the arrival of the elevator. Rusty.
“What the fuck are you doing, Rocky?” His roaring voice sucks me back into reality and stuns my willing partner.
Without hesitation, Lisa steps to the back of the elevator, straightening her skirt. A look of embarrassment crosses her face as she examines the disgusted look on Rusty’s face. I quickly tuck myself back into my pants and look at Rusty standing with his hands against the open doors, keeping them from closing.
“Do you want to explain this?” Rusty questions me, a vile look of anger and disgust on his face as I push past him, leaving Lisa behind in the elevator. “This is how you treat my sister?”
When I don’t answer him, I feel his hand grab my arm in an attempt to swing me around to face him. Rusty doesn’t expect the right hook that follows as I turn. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I exclaim. “I’m not the one who ended us. She was. So, I’ll fuck whoever I want when I want.”
Rusty lowers himself, then charges into me, pushing me up against the wall, his hand wrapping around my throat. “You’re a cocksucker, you know that? You’re a lousy, cheating drunk.” His voice carries through the hallway. “You beg me to forgive you for sleeping with my sister, pledge your undying love for her to me, and then, seventy-two hours later, I find you with your dick in some skank in an elevator in the hotel. If this is how you love my sister, I’m
glad she cut her losses when she did.”
I’m not sure who I am madder at, Rusty for calling me on my shit or me for letting myself stoop so low. Rusty pushes off the wall, releasing his hand from my throat and allowing air to once again fill my lungs. “Stay the fuck away from my sister, do you understand me?”
I don’t answer Rusty. Instead, I drop to the floor and lay my head on my knees. When I don’t respond, Rusty turns and walks away, leaving me alone on the floor of the hallway to wallow in my despair. It takes me several minutes to get my wits about me, and when I do, I stumble my way back to my room to pass out.
I wake to the sound of my phone beeping, letting me know I have an incoming text. I just lie there staring at the ceiling as it beeps again, reminding me that someone is trying to reach me. I replay the previous night in my head, all the way to the point when I stupidly thought I could fuck Kathy out of my mind. Bile rises in my throat at the thought. I know two things have to happen today. One, I need to set shit right with Rusty and hope to God he hasn’t already quit. And two, I have to get my shit under control.
When I reach for my phone, my plan goes to shit. There, sitting on the screen of my phone, is a text from the one person I’ve been dying to hear from.
BRIGHT EYES: Hi! I just wanted to say hi and see how it’s going.
I am so ashamed of my behavior that I can’t even bring myself to type out a reply. I hate myself and everything about what I have done. I need an escape from my miserable life, and I know the one person who can help me out. Austin, our sound board engineer. He was my go-to guy in the past and always has a hookup if I need it, and today is one of those days. Within twenty minutes of dialing his number, Austin is at my door with a little package of just what I need. No, it isn’t the white stuff. I need something stronger. I need heroin. And like old times, Austin is there to help.
