by Mj Fields
I get two feet from her and hear, “Noah, I love you.”
I turn and walk. No fucking way am I gonna lie down with a chick who’s into someone else.
“I love you.” I hear her say again.
I walk fast into the restaurant where the wait staff is setting down the plates of food.
“You mind boxing mine up? I am gonna go back to the room,” I say, looking at everyone who is looking up at me. “If you want me there at nine, I need my beauty sleep.”
I look at River, who eyes me suspiciously. “I’ll go, too.”
“You two are both leaving?” Billy asks.
“If you want us both there in the morning, then yes,” I answer.
***
River and I are on the balcony, finishing the ‘after dinner mint,’ or joint, when I see her walk in the room with a box that has the restaurant’s name on it. She sets it in the fridge and looks around.
“Sonya,” River yells in. “Come partake?”
She cocks her head to the side as she walks toward the balcony.
“She’s hot,” River whispers. “Nice little titties, curvy ass.”
I don’t stop him. I let him continue. If I wasn’t high, I would probably want to break his nose.
“That hair, though. Fucking redheads are the devil.”
“Partake in …?” she asks as she steps out.
River holds out the joint. “Herbage, conversation, and testing.”
She shakes her head. “No, thank you.”
She looks at me, and I swear to God she looks hurt, maybe disappointed.
“What?”
She shakes her head again. “Nothing. Just wondering if you’re ‘partaking’ after this morning’s mess.”
I take the joint from River, take a hit, and blow it toward her. “That answer your question, None-ya?”
As River snickers, she looks pissed, and I don’t give a fuck.
Noah.
Fuck him.
Fuck her.
“Goodnight,” she says and walks back in.
“She should really smoke something. Kind of uptight.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, trying to keep myself in check.
“Gonna go try to corrupt Billy boy.” River grins. “You wanna come?”
“Nah.” I take another hit and give it back to him. “I’m gonna write.”
He holds up the joint. “Brilliance inducer?”
“When you gonna tell us a story?” I ask.
“Me? I got no story.”
“Bullshit,” I say as I walk into the suite. “We all have a story.”
***
When I sit on the couch, pad in hand, ready to lay down a foundation, she walks out of her room and gives me hell with her eyes.
I give it right back.
“You should really lay off the damn drugs,” she hisses as she grabs the box from the mini fridge.
“You should try not to ride the innocent, little tease wave when you’re nothing but a—” I stop when she gasps.
I look at her, really look at her, and she looks mortified.
“You’re a fucking actress, None-ya.”
“Excuse me?”
Unable to contain my anger, I slam down the book and storm toward her.
“Who the fuck is Noah?”
She looks terrified as tears spring to her eyes.
“Can he make you feel as good as I do?” I grab her and yank her against me.
“Leave me alone.” She tries to pull away.
“Does he eat your—”
Her hand slaps me hard across the face, stopping me from finishing the sentence.
“He’s my son! And don’t you ever”—she pushes against my chest hard with her little fists—“ever talk about him again!”
Instinct makes me clutch on to her when I should do as she asks. I hold her head against my chest, keeping her there.
She pushes in protest, but I am so fucking sure, after what I just said to her, if I let go, she won’t come back.
“Sorry,” I say, and her fight weakens.
“How did you …? Why did you …? I—”
“Came to find you at dinner, heard you say his name, and …” I can’t even say the words she said to him. I haven’t said them in six years to anyone. “Damn it, I’m sorry.”
“Let me go,” she says on a muffled sob. Her head is buried in my chest.
I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to, but I have to.
“If I knew, I would have never…”
“What? Never what?” She pushes harder, and I let go regretfully.
“I didn’t know.”
“There is a lot you don’t know. You stop me every time I try to tell you!”
“I don’t want to know about the past. He isn’t your past,” I defend.
She steps back and wipes her eyes. “Goodnight.”
“Talk to me,” I plead.
She shakes her head. “I don’t even know what I am allowed to talk about.”
“Any fucking thing you want. I’ll listen.”
“But you won’t talk,” she says as if she is done, completely done with me.
“You’re right, but I’ll listen.”
She looks confused, scared, still angry, but the emotion that sticks out is fear. She’s fucking afraid.
“How old is he?” I ask.
“Four.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
“So you were sixteen when you had him?”
“Almost seventeen,” she answers, guarded, so fucking guarded.
“He live with his dad?”
She shakes her head. “Noah is very, very sacred to me. Don’t ask me to share him with you when I have protected him forever.”
“Protected him from whom?”
“You’re asking for my past, a subject you don’t want to talk about.”
“The scar on your stomach, was it from childbirth?”
Her body tenses, and she stands up straighter. “No.”
“Sonya—”
“Finn, I can’t. I won’t share that with someone who seems hell bent on breaking me. When I gave myself to you, it was because we weren’t going backward. You and I would have never happened if we were, trust me. You couldn’t—”
“Who does he live with?”
“My aunt when I’m not there.”
“Where is his father?” I ask, feeling like the answer is going to tip my world upside down.
“Not sure. Cuba maybe.”
“Where is home?” I ask cautiously, knowing something is off.
“Columbus, Ohio.”
I look at her, a sick reality coming over me. “Your hair is dark brown.”
She turns her head away.
“Sonya, look at me.”
She turns her head back toward me, pain in her eyes.
“I think I know your story. I don’t want to push you, ’cause I sure as hell don’t want to be pushed, but please tell me I’m wrong because I don’t want to think anyone ever hurt you that way.”
Her eyes flutter, tears spill, and I am literally shaking.
“Come here.”
She shakes her head.
“Then I’m coming for you.”
I take two steps, closing the distance between us, and then I have her in my arms so fucking tightly I’m sure she can’t breathe. Her body trembles as she cries against my chest.
I pick her up, carry her to the couch, and sit with her cradled in my arms.
I am holding the girl who, at sixteen years old, was attacked by an illegal immigrant, the son of a man hired by Roxy Charles as a gardener for her home. Roxy was arrested by the FBI in a sting operation that sent her to prison for running the biggest drug ring in the history of the state of Ohio, though the charge was later dropped to dealing.
Sonya was apparently living with her aunt in the family home when she went to meet the asshole who got her pregnant, and she was stabbed in the stomach just outside the gates of her home a
nd left for dead. The entire attack was caught on video surveillance and broadcasted nationally in the hopes of finding her attacker.
As fucked up as I was back then, I remember. It was like something straight out of Hollywood, something you would never expect to happen in real life.
“Shhh,” I say to calm her sobs as I rock back and forth, though it’s also to calm myself from the image I can’t get out of my mind.
I don’t know how much time passes as I stare at the wall, holding her, but she falls asleep. I stand up with her still in my arms and carry her in my room, lay her down, and lie right next to her.
She opens her eyes and looks at me. Mascara is smeared under her bloodshot eyes, and her face is red and puffy.
“I don’t want anyone to know,” she whispers.
“No one will ever hear it from me. Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”
Tonight, I can’t sleep. Hell, I’m surprised I can breathe. My mind races with thoughts of taking care of her, wanting to take care of her. Thoughts of how the hell she has managed for four years and thoughts of finding that sick fuck who did this to her and tearing him apart limb by limb.
She is in my arms, sobbing, crying, and holding her stomach, and then she falls asleep. She mumbles his name and no, please, and repeats it over and over. Then she says my name. My. Name. I don’t understand it, but I hope in her nightmare I am killing the motherfucker with my bare hands.
When she is quiet, I remember every horrific detail. That story was what made me stop watching the news. I couldn’t handle it. It made a dark time even darker.
***
I look up when she walks out of my room. “I ordered breakfast. Wasn’t sure what you liked so … well …” Fuck, I’m nervous. “I ordered a little bit of everything.”
“Thank you. It really wasn’t necessary, Finn.”
As she walks past me toward her room, I reach out and take her hand.
“Don’t—”
“Don’t what?” I ask, taking her other hand. She doesn’t say anything else. “Forgive me for being a dick last night. I wouldn’t have if—”
“If you knew who I was? If you remembered seeing me dying on TV or the video that went viral on YouTube or the story plastered all over the damn newspapers? That doesn’t work for me, Finn.”
“No,” I half-lie. “If I hadn’t overheard a phone conversation that was none of my damn business.”
She looks at me curiously.
“Was I awful to you at dinner?”
She shakes her head.
“Before dinner?”
“No,” she answers.
“And before that?” I ask, smiling cautiously.
A small smile appears and is gone quickly. “No.”
“Good. Let’s forget the fucking past. It’s ugly and doesn’t make us who we are today or want to be tomorrow, right?”
“You’ll never look at me the same.”
“I can guarantee I will.” I make another promise I can’t break.
“How many times did you watch the video online?”
I shrug. “I was really fucked up back then.”
“Promise me you’ll never watch it again.”
I nod. “Deal.”
“I like French toast without syrup, with strawberries and cinnamon.”
Shit. I didn’t order French toast.
“All right, we can order it up.”
She smiles and looks at the ground. “Promise me that, after the tour, you won’t hate me.”
“Why would you say something like that, Sonya?” I ask, pushing her hair behind her ear.
She shrugs. “Just a gut feeling.”
“That’s a hungry feeling in your tummy, girl. Let me call and order—”
“I was messing with you. You know, I used to be a spoiled, rich—”
I tug her to me and quickly kiss her hard, then pull away.
“Why the fuck would we ruin the here and now with shitty talk about our past?” I kiss her again the same way then pull back. “The here and now feels damn good, Sonya.”
“Yeah, it does.” She looks up, and I can see in her eyes what she wants, so I bow down and give her another kiss. When I pull back, she smiles, a real smile. “Did you order bacon and eggs?”
“Sure did.”
“Good. That sounds really good.”
We pull up to Stereo Live on Richmond Ave in Houston. Outside, there are at least a hundred people lined up, waiting to get in, and it’s only nine o’clock in the morning.
“ ’Da fuck?” Memphis laughs and looks at the guys, his smile beaming. “This is off the hook.” He turns and pulls Tally close to him, kissing her so hard I am pretty sure we can all feel it.
I feel eyes on me, deep brown eyes that are clear today, because when River came in at eight and nodded to the balcony, Finn shook his head.
Finn looks at me. “Gotta eat faster.” Then he glances at River. “Sit and eat, man.”
River’s eyes narrow a bit. The way they look at each other fascinates me. An old-fashioned duel comes to mind. Who will draw first?
“You got pancakes?” River finally asks.
Finn gives a satisfied smile. “With blueberries.”
“Aw, man, I feel the love. You remember,” he says playfully.
Finn smirks. “And Captain Crunch.”
“Fuck, man, I love you. If you and I are single when we’re fifty, I’m gonna marry you.” He walks over and gives him a hug.
“Not gonna happen, fucker. Go eat.”
“You two would make a nice couple,” I say quietly.
“Wow, she’s got jokes,” River says as he walks over, messes up my hair, and sits next to me. “You’re funny.”
“You stupit,” I try to joke.
“Aw, I love her, too.” River chuckles. “Three some?”
Finn sits next to him. “Hell freeze over?”
“Been done a few times, man.” River chuckles.
I feel my face burn. Is that something he would want with me?
“You into that kind of thing, Sonya?” Finn asks.
I look at him, unable to mask the shock. “Um … um …”
River laughs. “Guess not.”
Finn looks at my eyes, my lips, then smirks. “Didn’t think so.”
“I feel mayhem ensuing,” River says as he taps on his knee that hasn’t stopped bouncing since breakfast.
“You’ll be okay, man. Let’s roll.” Finn opens the door with one hand then looks at me. “You ready, little media chick?”
I nod. “Yep.”
Everyone piles out of the limo and the crowd cheers.
I hate crowds. I hate being in the spotlight. Nothing good ever came of it, not for me, anyway.
Finn leans back in. “You good?”
I nod.
“Let’s go.”
When I hesitate, he holds out his hand, and I reach out without thinking, then pull back.
“Not a good idea.” I sigh.
“You have sunglasses in that bag?”
I nod.
“Put ’em on.”
“What?”
“Put ’em on. Works for me.”
I nod again. Then the crowd’s roar makes me almost ill.
“Let’s—” he starts, but Tally pushes past him, interrupting.
“Is he being an ogre?” she asks, looking in.
“No. I just had to find something in my bag.” I pull out my sunglasses and put them on. “I’m ready now.”
“Good. Come on.” Tally’s outstretched hand brings on emotions I wasn’t prepared for. Right now, I am thankful for the glasses for another reason.
I take her hand. It’s warm, feels safe, and I feel so very undeserving of her kindness. I am so undeserving of so much.
Tears heat my eyes as I hurry out of the car. Tally is in front of me, Finn behind me as we bee line it for the doors of Stereo Live.
Walking in, I take in the giant two level club. Straight ahead is a massive stage. Hanging in the background is
a screen lit up with the band’s name.
“Can you believe this shit, Tales?” Memphis wraps his arm around her and pulls her into a one-arm hug, then kisses her head. “You ready for this life?”
“I’m ready.”
“That’s my girl.”
They all stop and look at me. This is my deal, my set up with Nickolas DeAngelo, Taelyn, and the radio station.
Pull it together, I tell myself and swallow back the tears.
“So, this is it.” I force a smile. “The first official audition to be the opening act for Steel Total Destruction. Today, you’ll hear thirty musicians, artists, people who want to be just like you. They are all talented and, hopefully, bring their A game for you all to hear and judge who the best match for STD is.” I walk past them, hating their eyes on me. “Over here is the stage. Pretty impressive.”
“Our name, even more impressive.” Billy laughs.
“Yeah, that’s nice, too,” I say and turn back to them. “Here is where you’ll sit. Notebook and pens already set up. I think the best way to do this is to use a star system of whatever you are most comfortable with to judge them. At the end, have a discussion, and today, you pick two acts. One has just today and tomorrow to prepare. Please keep in mind that they are representing you in a way.
“Nick is flying in as we speak and should be here by noon. Taelyn and Xavier asked for a live feed set up, but I assure you all today is your day to choose. Any questions?”
I see the man, Jonas, walking out of the back.
“Welcome to Stereo Live. Thank you for letting us host this unique opportunity. Which one of you is Sonya?”
“That would be me.” I wave.
He comes over and gives me a big hug and kiss on the cheek. “Nice to meet you in person. You ready for all this?”
I laugh because what else can you do? “Yeah. Actually, if the band is all set, we might be able to start sooner than expected.” I look back to see them all nod in agreement except Finn, whose arms are crossed over his chest, and his jaw is set like stone. I look back at Jonas.
“Can you give us about fifteen minutes so they can get set up?”
“Absolutely,” he says, and I walk toward the band.
Tally meets me half way. “What do I do?”
“I think you and I should meet the contestants at the door. Greet them ourselves, tweet a check in, tag the boys, and then show them to the table. Hopefully, we can get the guys to take a selfie with them and let the hopefuls tweet to them.”
