Lovin' on You

by Fabiola Francisco

  I have also tried to not look at Rebel Desire’s Twitter and Facebook account, but I’ve given in a few times. Their fan base has grown in two short weeks and the clips I’ve seen show what a great time they’re having. One video was Cash singing my song. The one he wrote for Country Fest. The girl recording from her phone was singing along and yelling over to her friend how she would bone him in a heartbeat. I lost it.

  He is on the road, doing what he has always dreamed of, and I let him go. For his sake and mine, but not by choice. The thought of him fucking away his frustration breaks me. He may have never been that kind of guy, but heartbreak changes people.

  Jen barely talks to me. She still has no idea what happened and is upset about what I did. She is a hothead and will find a way to get to Nathan and inform Ryder of what happened, who will tell Cash. Everything will escalate. Bri continues to come up with a bunch of ideas to reverse Nathan’s blackmail and they keep falling short.

  I try to focus solely on work. I feel worse than when I was stuck in my monotony. I miss Cash. I miss seeing him and holding him, but what I miss most is his voice. Every time his song comes on the radio, I need to change the station. It is a constant reminder of what I have lost.

  I walk into my home and hear Jen’s voice. She must be on the phone. When she sees me, she whispers and walks up to her room. I exhale and pour myself a glass of wine. Of course, it’s a fucking bottle from Arrington Vineyards, but I need the drink. I sit on the couch, the bottle and glass on the coffee table. All I do is drink and stare at the blank television.

  I close my eyes and breathe deeply, a lone tear falling from between my lashes. I hurt. I hurt a lot, and I hate Nathan. I hate him for doing this, but mostly for being a coward. A real man would accept a woman’s wishes, not emotionally torture her. More tears fall. I drink another glass of wine in between biting my nails. Anxiety is kicking in.

  “Tell me what happened.” Jen sits next to me. Her voice is soft but firm. I turn to look at her with tear-filled eyes and shrug. “You’re starting to worry me.” She grabs my glass and drinks my wine. “Ryder says Cash is a mess also. Why don’t you talk to him?”

  “Jen, things got complicated.” She shakes her head and waits for more. I inhale and try to smile, but it is pointless. I rub my eyes with the heel of my palms and wait a few seconds. When I look up at her I have fresh tears and desperation laces my voice.

  “Nathan contacted me. He blackmailed me into breaking up with Cash or he would publish some pictures and a video he has from when we were together.”

  “Pictures and video?” I nod. “As in you guys . . .” her voice trails off.

  “Yep.”

  “Fuck no! We need to stop him.”

  “I did, by breaking up with Cash. He thinks we’ll have a chance if Cash is out of the picture.”

  She snorts. “You’re kidding.” I shake my head. “That fucker can’t do that.”

  “He can if he wants to. It will ruin Cash’s reputation and make him look like a fool. It would ruin me and my career. It was stupid to do that, but I trusted him then and we were in the heat of the moment.”

  “You have to tell Cash,” she jumps.

  “No! I can’t. Cash will react, and Nathan will share the images. You have to promise not to tell anyone, especially Ryder.” She stares at me. “Jen, pinky promise.” She hesitates but takes my pinky in hers and kisses her thumb.

  “We need to solve this, though. It is messed up on so many levels. This has to be illegal. We can talk to my dad.”

  “And say what? ‘Hey Uncle Jim, so when Nathan and I were dating we recorded ourselves having sex and now he’s using it as blackmail to force me to break up with my current boyfriend.’ No, Jen. That’s weird. He’s my uncle.”

  “Then one of his associates. It will have attorney-client confidentiality.”

  “What if Nathan finds out and releases them before anything can be solved? Do they even have a law that makes this illegal?”

  “Liv, blackmail is serious, especially if it will threaten your career. It’s emotional abuse. Look at you.”

  “I’m scared this will do some major damage to our lives. I know there are worse things, but my clients rely on my ethics. If that comes out, I’ll be shamed a whore. Yes, the acts were done while I was in an intimate relationship, but no one wants it made public or to associate with someone who has had their laundry aired for the public to scrutinize.” I confess my fears.

  “Cash is going crazy,” she says. I shrug noncommittally. He does not need the media approaching him about this if it is made public. “Nathan needs a good dick clipping.”

  “Dick clipping?” I raise my brows.

  “Yeah. His balls cut off. Neutered, like a fucking dog. He should be tortured to where he gets ridiculously horny, but can’t get hard in order to release. That’ll teach him to mess with you.”

  I snort and look at her. “You’re crazy. You scare me at times. Does Ryder know this side of you?”

  “Ryder knows every side of me, and he thoroughly enjoys them.”

  “Why did I even ask?” I say goodnight and go to bed. The wine will help me sleep throughout the night without wanting to sneak out and murder Nathan.

  A broken heart is no fun. The days go by, but they’re still painful. I have not heard from Nathan since I broke up with Cash. I have not heard from Cash, despite Jen telling me he’s suffering. And I have yet to find peace. Sometimes I question how bad it would be if Nathan released the pictures and video. Then, I remember that Cash is starting out in the music scene and I have a reputation to uphold with my clients. Is it really possible that I’m allowing Nathan to kidnap my happiness?

  I snuck into Rebel Desire’s social media pages yesterday and checked out what they have been up to. It hurts to see him, but it hurts more not to. It has been a month since they left and they have already gained momentum. Their newer songs are being played on the radio, but I still change the station.

  I am incredibly happy for him and wish I were celebrating with him. I pray that this situation is temporary, and I can one day explain to him what happened. Hopefully it is not too late when I do, but there is no way of telling where we will be then.

  I get dressed and leave for Bri’s house. Old sweatpants will do. Between her and Jen, they are making sure I stay healthy and distracted. I don’t want to disappoint them, so I let them believe it’s working.

  “Hey, baby cakes.” Bri opens the door to her apartment. “Perfect timing. I just finished off with Josh.” She smiles widely.

  Turns out that the phone and internet service where they are sucks and no calls were coming in or out. It is an unfortunate case that happens to military deployed, but it’s better than the worst-case scenario. Bri finally released the stress once she heard back from him. Then, she cursed him out. Poor guy, it wasn’t his doing. It was just her fear of losing him.

  “How is he?”

  “He’s good.” She shrugs. “I’ve got the sangria ready.” She walks into her open apartment and serves two glasses of sangria.

  “You look like shit,” she tells me.

  “Um, thanks?” I look over at her with furrowed eyebrows.

  “Sorry,” she laughs. “But you’ve had better days.”

  “I have had better days.” I nod.

  “What’s the worst that could happen if you tell Cash what’s going on and let Nathan choose to react or not? We can be prepared to take it down.”

  I shake my head. “What if a client sees it? What if it’s blasted everywhere? How can we even track it and remove it from sites that aren’t ours?”

  “I don’t know, but I hate seeing you like this. I hate knowing that asshole is winning.”

  “Jen said to talk to my uncle. She thinks what Nathan is doing is illegal. I’m just embarrassed to tell him or have him see what that video shows. Maybe one of his partners?”

  “She might be right. There was that Lifetime movie where the teenager was being cyber bullied. This is similar.�
�� You gotta love Bri and her love for Lifetime movies. I don’t think this is the same situation, and I’m sure it’s different when both parties involved are adults and the acts were consensual. The only way to find out is by asking a lawyer.

  “It may be,” I tell her. “Or maybe Cash was a fantasy fling that could never be real. One day, when I have a daughter and she’s old enough, I’ll tell her about how I once dated a country singer. She’ll look at pictures of him and probably find him unattractive because he’ll be old, but when I look at the pictures I’ll see the man I fell in love with and had to live without.”

  “I love you, Liv, but that’s a little overdramatic.”

  “Do you think my fairy godmother will appear with a wand and fix the issue? This isn’t a princess story.”

  “How about we stop talking about this and watch a movie?” she suggests.

  That sounds like a better idea. I serve us both another glass of sangria and sink into her couch.

  It was only a matter of time before I heard from Nathan. It took him six weeks, and I’m sure he was biding his time. Maybe he thought that I would realize he was right.

  His message on Facebook comes in forceful and demanding. He wants me to meet him at a bar. I ignore it and stay home. How did this turn from annoying text messages about hooking up to serious threats and blackmail?

  Jen and I order pizza instead, as she tries to convince me to talk to her dad. Maybe I should. Jen gets up to answer the door when there’s a knock, and I grab our plates so we can eat when she brings in the pizza.

  “May I help you?” I hear her say with a strained voice.

  “Where’s Liv?” I freeze, thankful that the kitchen isn’t visible from the door.

  “She’s not here.” I hear a bang on the door, and I’m sure Jen tried to slam it in his face.

  “Tell her I’ll be back to pick up where we left off.” I shiver in disgust. I always thought he was a great guy. Besides his persistence and gross texts after we broke up, he was a decent person.

  “I hardly doubt that she’ll agree to that.”

  “She knows what will happen if she doesn’t. Let her know I came by.” Jen locks the door and walks into the kitchen.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I tell her.

  “Call my dad. You didn’t see the expression on his face. He’ll be back.”

  I’ve never seen Jen look so worried before. We both jump when the doorbell rings, and Jen checks through the peephole to make sure it’s the pizza delivery. She pays and we settle down to eat. Most of my appetite is gone. This needs to end and it needs to end now. Nathan cannot be showing up at my place demanding things from me. If he sees me out, he’ll approach me. I used to not think anything of it, but now it makes me a little fearful with the tone of voice I heard from him tonight.

  I’ll have to call my uncle tomorrow. Until then, I’ll make sure everything is locked or my overactive imagination will have him crawling through a window and watching me sleep. Chills cover my body. I sure as hell hope that’s one thing that doesn’t become reality.

  I slam back the whiskey and look at my blank notebook. No songs have been written in the month and a half that we have been on the road. We’re stopped in Little Rock, Arkansas for a show tonight. I can give three shits about it. I go out there and do my job, charm the crowd, and then I come back here and drink a bit. I try not to think about her, but that’s impossible. I still have no idea what got into her.

  “That bottle won’t do anything to ease the pain, brother.” Tyler takes a seat across from me.

  “Speaks the voice of experience.” It’s harsh, I know. He does not flinch, just sits and waits a few before speaking.

  “Yes.” He nods his head seriously. “Been there, done that. It feels amazing, but it won’t take away the pain. You shared some of your wisdom with me back in Nashville, about Mikayla, and I listened. Here’s my wisdom for you; don’t drink away your problems. The bottle will only get you so far, and it’s usually rushing to the toilet in the early morning hours to puke its contents. Love is hard, but when it’s real it’s worth fighting for. I admire that you haven’t found the first groupie and fucked her behind the bus. But the drinking? It’s just as bad. Reach out to Olivia and don’t stop fighting until she gives you an honest to God reason to do so. Then, fight some more.”

  “Have you ever had a broken heart?” I ask Tyler. He’s this tough guy with tattoos and piercings, and it’s ironic for me to ask him this when he seems indestructible. But I know he’s been low before. He told me all about it when we met in Nashville.

  “Buddy, I’ve had broken ribs, cut face, and busted lips. Nothing hurts more than a broken heart.”

  “I’m glad you were able to go back and see Mikayla.”

  “You are the sensitive one.” He glances down at my notebook. “Write what’s in you, not what’s expected from you.” He stands and leaves me alone on the bus again. His final words resonating with me.

  “Hey, let’s play a little two on two.” Ryder looks into the bus. I get up, stumbling a bit, but make it out to the blinding sun. There is a park across the street from the stadium with a half court. Cole and Jason are already there shooting some hoops.

  “Cash and I against you two fools,” Ryder says. We check and begin playing. Although I am not completely focused, it feels good to be out and moving; instead of staring at a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels and a completely empty notebook.

  “You losing your game, Knight?” Jason mocks me. I know he’s shit-talking in the spirit of the game, but it’s pissing me off.

  I check the ball with him, and move to my left, dribbling and passing to Ryder. Cole’s hand hits the ball as it leaves my hands.

  “Oh! What a pack!” Jason says.

  “That’s a foul!” I shoot back, knowing damn well it isn’t.

  “Bullshit,” Cole says.

  “Admit it, Cash, you’ve lost your game,” Jason mocks. I stare at him.

  “Fuck you.” I rush to him and tackle him to the ground. My fist collides with his cheek before Ryder is pulling me off and pushing me back.

  “Stop!” He yells. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He looks me dead in the eyes.

  “I’m tired of his bullshit,” I spit.

  “It’s a fucking game!” Jason yells.

  “And you,” Ryder looks at him. “We said we were bringing him out here so he wouldn’t be stuck in there thinking about Olivia and you fuck with him.”

  “It’s called friendly competition. Besides, I’m tired of walking on eggshells around him. You broke up with a girl. Suck it up and fuck another one.” I want to kill him, but Ryder holds me back. I want to barge into Jason, throwing him into the ground until he disappears beyond the dirt. Six fucking feet under.

  “Stay here,” Ryder tells them and drags me back onto the bus.

  “Cash, you need to stop. I get it. Believe it or not, I understand heartbreak. Jen told me Liv is fucked up. Talk to her. Reach out to her and see what the hell is going on. In the meantime, get your shit together. We have a show to play and a mountain to keep climbing. I’ll be damned if I let you ruin it when we’re almost at the top.”

  Cole and Jason walk in, and Jason goes straight to the bathroom to wash his face. He doesn’t even look at me. I’m supposed to be the grounded one in the group. I’m supposed to be the one that shows them we can surpass anything thrown our way. Instead, I’ve been miserable.

  Cole just shakes his head at me and says, “Not cool, bro.”

  “Do I even want to know?” We all look at Peyton standing at the front of the bus.

  “No,” I say.

  “We need to talk. Now.” Peyton walks out of the bus, and I know that’s my cue to follow him. He’s sitting on a bench when I walk out. I sit next to him but refuse to look at him. I know what’s coming.

  “Cash, I gambled on you and the guys years ago. It’s a decision I have never regretted. You always knew what you wanted and worked towards it, your music
being your priority. This behavior needs to stop. People are noticing. They’re talking. You want to get signed with a big label? Stop being a dick.” I look at Peyton when he says this.

  “It hurts.”

  “I understand, but this is your job. You’re no longer playing at Riot or music festivals. You’re on tour. Get your act together. You have a show tonight with a huge audience, and people are banking on Rebel Desire to kick it off strong. I can’t have my boys fighting and scarred. After the show, call the girl and talk to her. If you don’t, then accept your fate.”

  “I know you think this is bullshit and I should move on because of what she did, but I’m telling you Pey, something is up.” I scratch my beard.

  “Then be a man and call her, but stop the drinking and fighting. It’ll get you nowhere.” He stands and leaves. I pull my phone out of my pocket and stare at it.

  I search for Olivia’s name in my contacts and call her. It rings endlessly, ending with a generic answering machine. She used to have a personalized one, especially for work. I leave a message anyway.

  Back in the bus, I apologize to Jason and the rest of the guys. After a quick shower, we’re headed backstage for what I could only hope will be a great performance.

  Once we begin to play, the tension eases a bit from all of us. We use music as our peace offering. The crowd explodes and the energy in the place is contagious. Soon, we’re jamming out and doing what we love.

  Being here, in this moment, clears my mind and allows me to focus on my music, the thing that has always been a constant in my adult life. It’s what I do. It’s part of me. Every time I perform on a stage I still feel like I am flying. For the hour that we are here, all that crosses my mind is the music. It’s my savior at a time like this.

  After our set, I check my phone. Nothing from Olivia. I grab my notebook and take Tyler’s advice, write what is in me. Pen to paper, I begin to jot down new music with the same muse but with a different story.