Moments In Time: A Collection of Short Fiction

by Alexander, Dominic K.

  Jarred

  “Bro, I told you for the thousandth time, I’m not up for going anywhere tonight. I have a fucking hangover and I just don’t want to,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Aaron, my bass player and one of my oldest friends, was sitting on the couch adjacent to me. Recently, I had hired an interior designer to come in and work their magic to transform my bachelor pad into something more suitable for someone in their thirties. The walls were painted a pale gray, which looked a tinge more blue at the moment with the sun streaming in the bay window. Two black leather sofas sat across from each other with a coffee table in between. The coffee table was one of my favorite pieces in the room since it was very industrial looking, made with metal and rivets.

  Choosing to avoid further conversation, I looked up at the television mounted above the stone fireplace and started flipping through channels. I was beginning to regret letting his sorry ass in.

  Aaron looked at me with a smug look on his face. “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure that little blonde number you’ve been lusting after is there.”

  “I have lots of little blondes I’m lusting after,” I shot back, and the thought made my cock stir.

  His face turned serious. “It’s that chick that was with Paul when they got in the accident.”

  “Oh, you mean Star? I’d fuck her, but she’s a little too high maintenance for me.”

  Star was the total package in the looks department. She seemed like she had a brain, but something about her was just off, and I couldn’t quite peg what it was.

  “Does that mean you’ll come?” He laughed. “Get it?”

  “You’re a moron, and yes, I get it. I’m not sure I want to tap that. What if she starts following me around like a lost puppy afterward? Are you going to go file the restraining order for me?”

  Aaron laughed. “If that’s what it takes, then sure, dude. I’ve got your back.”

  Using my forearms, I lifted myself off the couch and headed back toward my bedroom so I could get ready.

  By the time we showed up at Liquid, it was almost eleven. Star was huddled with her girlfriends at the bar. They were laughing about something and had an audience.

  Aaron and I headed up to order some drinks. Whatever was playing on the speakers fucking sucked, and I almost instantly regretted coming here. It was a younger crowd than what I normally went for. At thirty-four, I was pretty much done with the big party scene, although I still liked the girls and drinking on occasion. But going and hanging out at an actual bar? It seemed overrated, even though the locals were pretty cool, and gave me space even though they considered me a celebrity.

  Being the front man in a decent rock band meant that I had money, lots of it, in fact. I was living the dream, and had the big house, the nice car. My life was pretty good. But I didn’t date because the last girl I dated and almost proposed to had crushed me.

  The raven-haired bartender came over when she saw us approach. “What can I get you?” she asked with a bright smile.

  “Two, make that three Jäger bombs,” I said as I pulled out my wallet and tossed some bills on the wooden bar.

  When she brought them back and set them down, I handed one to Aaron and took the other two, then walked over to where Star was sitting. She looked like she was doing much better than the last time I saw her. I held out my hand, gave her the shot, then clinked my shot glass against hers.

  The wicked gleam in her eyes made my cock harden. Her pouty lips wrapped around the rim of the glass as she tilted her head back and swallowed. Fuck me!

  As I moved in, the crowd around her started dispersing. Aaron was having a conversation with a couple of girls at the other end of the bar, and he looked over and grinned at me, since he knew Star was the only reason I came out tonight.

  “Hey, pretty lady, how are you feeling?”

  Star shrugged. “Hanging in there. It’s been a rough couple of weeks but it gets better each day. You can hardly see my scars anymore.” She gestured at her forehead, where the faint scars showed through her heavy makeup job.

  Holding up my hand, I ordered us a couple more rounds of shots, then took the empty seat next to her. I leaned in so I could hear her over the music, then asked her a few questions so we could get to know each other a little better.

  Star was certainly intriguing and had this aura about her. She had the sweetest laugh, but I knew underneath she was a very vindictive person who manipulated people to get her way.

  I had a bad habit of trying to save these fucked-up, wounded girls, and always ended up being the one who got hurt in the end.

  • • •

  One too many Jäger bombs later, the bar was closing and we were asked to leave. Star was on my left, using me to support herself, and Aaron was on my right.

  “Jarred, you’re so cute. Do you know you’re cute?” She giggled, snorting at the same time, which made me laugh.

  With my alcohol-impaired judgment, I knew I was about to make a huge mistake. At the same time, I needed to know what all the hype was about. I needed to fuck her. Not the nice take-you-home-and-cuddle deal, but more the we’re-going-full-speed-ahead-on-the-fuck-truck situation.

  Turning to look at her, I said, “Come home with me.”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she said, and smiled.

  Aaron gave me a confused look and I shrugged. “I hope you know what the fuck you’re doing, man,” he said in a low voice. “She’s a ticking time bomb . . .”

  “I’ve got it under control,” I assured him, hoping I wasn’t lying. “I’ll get a cab, so don’t worry about me. We’ll talk tomorrow, bro.”

  Aaron peeled off toward his car after we walked out the front doors of the club. Star and I climbed into a waiting cab, and I gave the cabbie my address.

  Star leaned her head on my shoulder and stared out into space. She wore so much makeup, it was hard to tell what she would look like without it all caked on. I wasn’t a shallow guy, and could acknowledge that there was more to beauty than what was on the outside, but I still didn’t want to wake up to a troll.

  The girl had appealing features and her personality was so fucking vain it was ridiculous, but it was also what intrigued me. Star was like this force of nature that demanded to be seen, heard, and felt. Part of me knew she also needed a friend right now, too, and that I should tread carefully.

  • • •

  Twenty-five minutes and two hundred dollars later, we arrived at my place. Normally such a short cab ride would be less than thirty bucks, but Miss Blonde Bombshell lost her liquor in the backseat. Needless to say, the cabbie wasn’t very happy, hence the huge tip.

  “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up,” I told Star, putting my arms under hers to brace her.

  “Sorry,” she slurred. Black mascara was smeared underneath her green eyes. Wait. Her eyes were blue the last time I saw her . . .

  After fishing my keys from my pocket, I managed to get the front door open and hit the light switch to illuminate my entryway. I loved my place; it was a total guy pad full of electronics, beer, and Xbox. Rather than risking another accident, I swept her off her feet and headed up the staircase with her in my arms. In an effort to keep my bathroom clean, I headed into one of the guest rooms, each of which had an attached en suite, and turned on the shower.

  “Star, I need to get you cleaned up.” I sat her on the counter, then unstrapped her ridiculously high heels and let them fall to the floor. Her head rolled to the side, which told me she really was hammered. For as many girls as I’d been with over the years, part of me felt like I was doing something wrong getting her into the shower without her knowing what was going on, so I said, “Babe, I need you to help me get these clothes off.”

  “Just rip them off. I don’t care. You’re really cute, did I tell you you’re cute, Jarred?”

  Maybe I was in over my head, after all. Another part of me was glad she wasn’t home alone, or with someone else who would take advantage of her while she was completely d
runk off her ass.

  I slowly and carefully got her undressed, making sure she didn’t fall, and helped her into the shower. The warm water soaked through my clothes as it ran over her perfectly tanned skin. Using one hand to hold her steady, I grabbed a bar of soap with the other and worked it into a lather, rubbing it over her skin until I was sure she was clean, then made sure she was rinsed off. After wrapping her in a towel, I grabbed one for myself, then turned around and stripped out of my now soaking-wet clothes before putting a towel around my waist and leading her to the bed.

  “Star, can you sit here for a minute? I’ll be right back.”

  “Suuure,” she said, then hiccupped.

  Hoping that she was right, I all but ran down the hallway to my room and grabbed a pair of boxers and a T-shirt for me, and the same for her. I quickly put mine on and grabbed a package of wipes from my nightstand before making my way back. I found her lying on her side, curled up in a ball, in the less than two minutes I was gone.

  With a couple of wipes from the container, I started taking the layers of makeup off her face. As I did, she gave me a sad smile that totally pulled at my heartstrings. I helped her sit up but she stood up, letting the towel fall to the floor and giving me a full frontal view. I quickly tugged my undershirt over her head, then lifted her feet one at a time into the boxers I’d brought for her. Once I pulled them up, they hung way low on her hips, so I rolled them so they wouldn’t fall down.

  I sighed, secretly wishing she looked like this more often—natural and vulnerable. Star was always so smoke-and-mirrored up that it was hard to see who she even was. Pulling back the comforter, I tucked her into bed and turned the light out. There would be no action going down tonight.

  • • •

  Star greeted me the next morning with my cock in her mouth. I wanted to tell her to stop, but there was no way I could formulate a coherent sentence. She was that good.

  Moments later we were sitting face-to-face, her nails scratching down my back, head tilting back as she rode my cock. Her fake tits bounced as her pussy clenched around me. Fuck, she might be worth the crazy after all. I’d had sex, lots of it. I had rosters of girls lining up to be next in line, but something about Star stood out. She was infectious.

  “Don’t stop, baby!” I cried out as I came. She looked at me with big brown eyes. I wracked my brain, trying to think if my mind was playing tricks on me. “Star, what color are your eyes?”

  “Depends on my mood, and what I’m wearing. Why?”

  “Because they seem to change a lot.”

  “They’re contacts. I’m not wearing any right now. That was my thank-you gift for taking such good care of me last night. I figured it’s only fair to return the favor.” Then she winked, biting her lip.

  “Consider your debt repaid. You were pretty fucking banged up, I didn’t like it,” I admitted.

  “It’s not for you to like. You’re not the boss of me!” she said defensively, climbing off of me and making her way into my bathroom.

  I stood up and followed her. “Star, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you drank your body weight in alcohol. What would you have done if I wasn’t there?”

  She shrugged. “But you were, so I don’t see what the big deal is.”

  “I think you’re still reeling from the whole Paul thing and you’re in denial. You can’t keep going on pretending like it didn’t happen. It wasn’t your fault, Star. It was an accident.”

  She reeled on me, her face pinched with anger. “Were you there? No, you weren’t. Stop acting like you know me.”

  “Listen, you were the one that was showing interest in me. You just fucked me, for crying out loud. What the fuck?”

  “Get over yourself.”

  But what if I want to get to know you? I thought. Biting my tongue, I went back into the bedroom and put my clothes back on, then made my way down to the kitchen. I pulled out some stuff to make breakfast and turned the stove on. Carefully, I cracked some eggs in a bowl, then scrambled them before pouring them into the pan. After popping a couple of pieces of toast into the toaster, I grabbed two plates from the cabinet and set them on the counter.

  I was feeling pretty pissed off about what just went down, but I’d been there before, too. Sometimes we would rather turn a blind eye than see what was flashing like a neon sign in our face. So I concentrated on making breakfast, having buttered the toast, poured orange juice, and scooped eggs into a plate, all in the time it took for her to make her way down the stairs.

  “Eat. I’ll take you home after.” I pushed the plate in front of her and she accepted it willingly.

  Star picked up her fork and pushed at her eggs, but didn’t take a bite. Her eyes downcast, she said, “Look, Jarred, I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. It’s just I hate being told what to do or how to feel. I’m a pretty selfish creature. It’s just who I’ve become. My coping mechanism is to shut everything out and pretend it’s not happening.”

  “I know that feeling because I’ve been there a time or two myself, but you’re not doing yourself any favors. You need help, Star. You need to talk to someone before you get sucked into a downward spiral.”

  She didn’t say anything more, just sat there stabbing at her scrambled eggs and looking like a lost puppy. I knew I needed to distance myself from her, needed to break my habit of going for these fucked-up, lost, broken girls, thinking I could fix them.

  I knew damn well Star was no different. In fact, she might even be worse.

  Star

  Staring at Jarred from across the kitchen island, I could practically feel his disapproval radiating off him in waves. He had spent one night with me, a drunken one at that, and now all of a sudden he felt like he was an expert in what I needed. When I was done, I pushed my plate forward, and he took it to the sink and rinsed it before putting it in the dishwasher.

  “I’m going to go get dressed and then I’ll take you home.” His eyes held my stare for another minute before he turned and made his way up the stairs.

  My heart was beating fiercely behind my rib cage. The things I wanted to say stuck in my throat. As much as someone like Jarred was my end goal in life, I was in a downward spiral. I knew it and so did he.

  Instead of sitting there letting my mind wander, I decided to go grab my belongings and wait by the front door for what was most likely going to be an awkward ride home. The sex was incredible and we definitely had a connection, but it wasn’t going to work.

  Jarred

  “Star wouldn’t spit on me if I was on fire, she’d just stand there and drink the water. She’s a great fuck, but I know she needs help.”

  “You need to keep your distance, man. This isn’t going to end well. I know how you are with your wounded little pets, and it bites you every single time.”

  I was sitting on my oversized black leather couch talking to Aaron. I had dropped Star off earlier this morning and she’d barely said two words to me on the way home. I wasn’t sure what to say. Girls like her always had a way that they operated. Everything was a game. It wasn’t hard to see that she was after a certain status. She liked being the center of attention. Yet Star was someone who could easily become my next addiction.

  He took a long swig from his beer and changed the subject. “We’re supposed to go to that charity thing on Friday, don’t forget.”

  “I remembered, for once,” I said with a laugh.

  • • •

  The next few days were spent getting everything ready to go back into the studio to record. It was a long process that I was looking forward to. Being in the band took away the monotony of everyday life. I loved being on the road and meeting new people. I loved the rush that came along with performing at sold-out venues. The stories people had to tell of taking our music with them on adventures. The hard times that a song helped them through, the happy times that were remembered because of something I wrote. It was the best job in the world.

  On the other hand, it was
hard to trust people’s true intentions when you were a celebrity, even a minor celebrity like me. Were they my friend for me, or were they more interested in my status, money, or fame? It was a crapshoot.

  I’d managed to weed out most of the fakes over the years, but every once in a while there were one or two who crept in but eventually showed their true colors. That was what happened with my last relationship, and to think I almost ended up marrying that crazy bitch. One time while I was on tour, she stole my car, drove it over two hundred miles, and left it in a parking lot just to spite me for “not being there.” It was always about what she wanted and what was best for her, never giving a second thought to anyone else. After we split, I decided I was taking a hiatus from the whole dating scene, and concentrate my sole focus on the music thing. It worked and our band made it to the next level.

  I still got a sick sense of satisfaction when I would pass my ex working at the mall. If she could have stayed normal and somewhat humble, all that heartache could have been avoided and she would have been Mrs. Sins, with all the perks that went along with it. I didn’t get the whole shallow behavior thing anyway; it just wasn’t classy.

  Which brought me to Star . . . hot as hell and knew it. Obviously had deep-rooted self-esteem issues, judging by her “Hollywood whore” behavior, but for some reason I felt this self-sacrificial pull to her. Going against all advice, we’d fucked, and it had been on my mind ever since. I wanted more. A lot more . . .

  Taking a look in the mirror at my jeans and fitted white tee, it was as good as it was going to get for tonight’s event. Stepping into my boots, I tucked the laces inside and made my way downstairs, grabbing my car keys on my way out the door.

  Star

  “What time is it?” I asked the bartender.

  He looked down at his watch before making eye contact. “Almost eleven,” he replied as he refilled my glass.