by Nola Marie
I look up to the ceiling like it has the answers I need. I practically pray for the tiles and entire support structure to collapse on top of me. To end this nightmare.
“Fine,” I finally relent because I need this job if I truly expect to make a successful career change. I also refuse to give back the power I took from Angel and that witch in couture. They’ll never hold any kind of power over me again. “How long do I have to make arrangements?”
“We have a couple of weeks,” she tells me with a wide grin that shows her perfectly straight, brilliant teeth. “Enough time for you to adjust to seeing him because we will begin working with them starting today.”
“Today?” I unintentionally squeak.
“Their agent and the record label have put together a few shows in the city. Also, they have arranged for them to have a few interviews with local podcast personalities and YouTubers.”
“And they can’t dress themselves for that?” I huff. “I mean we really didn’t change anything about them the other day. We gave them all more of the same type of clothes they’d normally wear.”
She gives a shrug. “It doesn’t matter. We’re being paid to do a job. That job is to make sure they look their best. Believe it or not, the bad boy rock stars – or future rock stars in this case are often the easiest to dress. They already look the role because they are the role.”
“So, I have to deal with this today?”
“Just think of yesterday as your own dress rehearsal.”
Dress rehearsal. I think I could have a dozen of them and never be fully prepared to handle seeing Angel Martin every day.
I watch out the window as the taxi crosses the Brooklyn Bridge over into Manhattan where Sons of Sin will be playing tonight in some club. According to Abby and Camilla this club is some big deal among rock fans. A place where lots of bands get their start apparently.
My ringing phone draws me from my worry about dealing with Angel. I look at the screen with a smile. Exactly who I need to talk to right now. “How did you know I needed to hear your voice?”
“I’m psychic,” Eden tells me with a snicker.
“Yes, that’s what you are,” I laugh at her ridiculousness. One of the many reasons I love her so much.
“Seriously,” she says in a firm voice. “I could feel it. Your distress. Now tell your bestie all about it.”
“You’ll never believe it,” I say with a heavy sigh as I lean my head back against the seat of the car.
“Well, we’ll never know what I would believe if you don’t tell me,” she taunts.
I smile. I can almost see her laid across her oversized, plush white sofa with a glass of wine in her hand in danger of spilling over as she flings her hand around. I wish she were here with me, but she would never leave Isaac, whom I am certain is in the background with stain remover in his hand waiting for her inevitable spillage.
“Before I tell you, I want you to hand Isaac the wine glass,” I say with a smile. I don’t want to be the cause of the disaster that’s awaiting that pristine white sofa that I tried with relentless fervor to talk her out of.
“Oh, this is serious,” she says. I hear Isaac grumble a bit making me chuckle. She is so high maintenance it’s ridiculous, but that Isaac made her that way is why it’s all the more hilarious when he grumbles. “Okay. The wine has been safely placed far away from my reach. Now tell me what’s going on with you.”
“Angel,” is all I say. It’s all I need to say for her to understand more profoundly than anyone ever could.
She laid witness to Erica’s cruelty of me. She saw on more than one occasion the tears I would spill over her torment and torture. And on more than one occasion, Eden would come to my rescue.
“Oh, doll. Was it bad?”
“It was awful,” I admit. “I thought I was over it but the minute I laid eyes on him all the hurt and anger came rushing to the surface. Then last night, he was waiting on me outside the diner.”
“No, he wasn’t,” she gasps. “What did he say?”
I recount the events last night as Eden listens silently on the other end. I tell her everything. Right down to the hours I spent back at my apartment with tears streaming down my face. Tears that sting right this second but I’m not letting them fall.
“Honey,” she starts, and her tone has me clenching my fists. While she knew that Erica was evil, she was convinced that Angel couldn’t be blamed. “I have told you time and time again, it wasn’t his fault how she treated you.”
“No, but he let her do it,” I yell into the phone. “He may not have said the words or carried out the actions, but he was unworried. If he cared anything about me, he would never have tolerated it.”
“Josephine, I have told you before I don’t think he knew, and you wouldn’t go to him.”
Anger ignites inside of me. This is not the conversation I wanted to have. If I’d thought about it, I would’ve realized beforehand how it would go. “Everybody knew what was being said and done to me, Eden. What that bitch and Jason did to me. The entire damn school played a part in it.”
“And you’ve always included Angel in that group,” she tells me. “You don’t still have feelings for him, do you?”
“Yeah,” I chuckle darkly, “I have feelings. Feelings of disgust and hate. I hate him so much. Just looking at him makes me angry. Hearing his voice makes me want to gouge his eyeballs out.”
“I’m sorry you’re going through this, doll, but you’re not the same girl anymore. Just let it go.”
“That’s a lot easier said than done. I get to see him every day for the next couple of months. I’ve got to go on tour with his band.”
“He’s in a band?” she says with a sound of surprise that sounds a little forced.
“Can you please just hate him with me this once?” I ask with a lot of snark.
“All right, all right. I hate the son of a bitch. He’s Satan and Erica is his bride.”
“Thank you,” I laugh. “Seriously, Edie. How am I going to do this? I can’t stand to look at him.”
“You’ll do it, and you will do it with more poise, grace, and dignity than Erica Wellington ever thought about having.”
The taxi pulls up in front of a club that has people lined up for a couple of blocks. “I’ve got to go,” I tell her.
“Go be the amazing, beautiful, strong person you were always meant to be.”
I smile at that as I end the call. She’s right. I absolutely can do this. I can also be professional. There’s no reason for me to let my personal feelings interfere with my job.
And Angel Martin? He is just another job.
Angel
The dressing room in Club Six is probably the nicest we’ve ever had as far as clubs and bars go. Sofas and lounge chairs line the space along with legitimate dressing tables. Maddox sits at one while he performs vocal exercises in preparation of performing tonight. I might have, at one time, thought those exercises were a little ridiculous, but with some of the things the guy does with his voice, I can’t say I don’t see the value in it. His voice is gold and we’d be fucked if he damaged his cords.
Dane sits in front of a table tapping it with his sticks and Ryder sits next to him playing a few chords getting into the right head space to perform. I sit on a stool fine tuning one of my basses. All of us are in our own world as we mentally prepare to take the stage.
The door to the dressing room opens with Danny entering the room. Behind him comes a couple of racks of clothes. Dane and Ryder shift in their seats to watch.
Behind the clothes comes Camilla from the video shoot yesterday looking hot as hell in tight leather pants and a sparkly top that shows off her large, perky tits. I don’t miss the way Ryder and Maddox’s eyes rake her up and down before they look at each other.
I chuckle and get back to tuning my bass. Until my skin heats and the hair on my neck stands. Electricity.
My eyes only drift up again when Danny clears his throat for our attention.
I
nearly fall off my stool when I see some sort of tight, black bandage looking dress clinging to the hottest fucking legs I’ve ever laid eyes on. Sandy brown hair frames that heart-shaped face and lagoon-colored eyes that kept me up all fucking night because I was pissed as hell.
And I’m getting angry all over again. I’m angry that she’s here again. That I have to look at another woman who let me down in such epic fashion. I’m pissed because I’ve thought about her more often than I would ever admit over the years. Always wondering why she seemingly just walked away from our friendship. I’m pissed because I’ve missed her so much over the years like anyone would miss a childhood friend.
I know high school was hard for her. It seemed like there was always someone taunting her or playing pranks. I tried to stop it when I could, but I swear it seemed the more I would get in some guy’s face over her or tell some chick to back off, the harder they would come at her. I tried so hard to be there for her. The harder I tried, the more distance she put between us.
After graduation, it was like she vanished into thin air. I haven’t even heard whispers about her until recently and those were on the news. Every time I’d hear her name, my stomach would clench with worry and frustration.
Seeing her yesterday rubbed salt into the gaping wound that won’t stop bleeding. It made everything with Erica fresh again because I was face to face with the woman I blamed for being with Erica in the first place. That pissed me off too.
I look over to the other guys who practically have their tongues wagging at the girls. But the way Ryder and Maddox eyes continue to trace every inch of Josie’s skin makes me want to swing this bass at their heads. That damn protective urge she always evoked since we were kids is moving full force through me like a locomotive.
I like Maddox and Ryder. This whole band thing wouldn’t work if I didn’t. No matter how much I keep to myself.
But Ryder and Maddox have been known to – share. I don’t judge. I’ve even joined a time or two.
But the thought of either of them touching Josie makes my fucking blood boil.
I hate her so much. I hate her for abandoning me when I needed her. I hate her for not talking to me about what she saw or letting me explain. I hate her for Erica because if she hadn’t ditched me, maybe I would’ve been with the girl I really wanted.
But hate her as I may, she is still Josie and the urge to protect her from guys like Maddox, Ryder, and even myself still runs strong. There is no way she’d be more than a meaningless hookup to either of them. Maddox is stuck on Zoey and I have no idea what’s up with Ryder, but the guy goes through women like a bag of potato chips. He can never have just one.
Dane is an entirely different issue. Jake tells me since he won custody of his sister when she was thirteen, he doesn’t focus on much else. I’ve witnessed firsthand when he left our last tour a week early because of his two sisters. His eyes aren’t on her anyway. They are practically glued to Camilla.
Fuck, I want to rip their eyes out and cover her up. Who the hell dresses like that when it’s freezing out? She’s a damn SoCal girl. She has to be freezing because I am, and I’ve lived here nearly two years.
“The record company has hired the girls to be your wardrobe team for the foreseeable future,” Danny informs us.
“What does that mean?” Dane asks, very clearly confused.
But I’m not confused. I know exactly what it means. My grip tightens so hard around the neck of my bass that I hear a crack under the pressure.
“It means they dress you tonight, tomorrow, and every night until the tour is over at the very least.”
“Why do we need to have wardrobe?” Maddox questions. “They dress us in practically the same stuff we already wear.”
“It’s not unusual guys. It’s because you need a constant supply of dry shirts or whatever on stage. It’s because it easier to provide wardrobe than for you to keep up with laundry. I don’t know why they want to pay a ridiculous amount of money to dress you just like you already are, but if they’re footing the bill then why fight it?”
My jaw clenches at the thought of seeing Josie every day for the next three months. My eyes flash to her. She won’t look my way, but I know she feels my eyes on her.
I don’t miss the stiffness in her posture or the way her chin tilts slightly upward. It’s her version of a middle finger in my direction. Her way of telling me that I won’t get to her.
“All right, boys,” Camilla snaps out firmly. “You know what to do.”
The other three guys are quick to start shedding their clothes with cocky grins. I just sit there, refusing to budge. “This is bullshit,” I growl keeping my eyes on Josie.
“C’mon, Angel,” Maddox implores. “As long as the label is paying and they aren’t dressing us like pussies, who cares?”
“I can dress my damn self,” I bit back.
“Too bad, tough guy. I’ve got a job and a reputation on the line. You will wear what I say,” Camilla tells me with a tone only a mother should have. But I don’t break my gaze from Josie, who I can see visibly trembling right now. “You will stow your shit with my assistant and let us do our job.”
“I don’t need to stow my shit,” I snap back. “Get rid of her.”
Josie is turning red now. I knew I could get to her. If Camilla doesn’t fire her, then I can probably get her to quit.
“I will not fire the best assistant I’ve had because you’re throwing a temper tantrum. Unfortunately for you, you’re not big enough, yet, to make those kinds of demands. And even if you were, I still wouldn’t fire her. What kind of selfish bastard can’t put aside their juvenile baggage? What kind of person is perfectly fine with costing a person their job?”
Juvenile baggage? Did she tell Camilla what happened? This actually draws my attention away from Josie. “I won’t work with her,” I hiss.
“Drop the crap, Angel,” Maddox tells me this time more pissed off than pleading. “Take your damn clothes off so you can change.”
I look at him through narrowed eyes. There’s a challenge in his bright, if slightly glazed, eyes. His posture is rigid, and his fists are clenched. I’m not afraid of Maddox but now would be a really bad time to start a fight.
“Whatever,” I relent because I can pick up this battle after the show. I set my bass aside so I can strip off my clothes. Josie hands each of us the clothes as Camilla hands them to her, telling her who each item goes to. When she hands me a shirt, our fingers brush. She jumps back like she’s been electrocuted. She drops the shirt she was trying to give me causing her to blush again. I notice those same freckles she had when we were kids dusting across the bridge of her nose.
I used to connect those freckles every time I’d look at her. I remember once I swore I could make out my name. Those memories make me even more angry. I yank the shirt from her grasp with a few curses. Her eyes meet with mine filled with equal amounts of fury and hurt before she turns away from me to walk away.
What she fucking does best.
Maddox heads to the bathroom for one last pit stop after Ryder and I have had our turn. The rest of us make our way down the narrow hallway to the stage, Ryder and I both feeling the high of the upcoming performance and blow running through us.
When Maddox returns, he’s pumped. He is bouncing on the balls of his feet. His pupils nearly cover the blue of his eyes as they dilate with excitement and his own hit. His high energy, as always, fuels our own.
I notice Dane looking over at Ryder and me before turning his attention to Maddox. He has a worried look when he whispers something in his ear. I have an idea what it’s about. But Maddox shakes his head at whatever Dane whispers then walks away. Dane’s expression of worry doesn’t change though, as his eyes flit to Ryder and me.
The lights go down as we walk onto the stage and I brush everything else out of my mind. I don’t have time to worry about Dane and Maddox right now. I damn sure don’t have time to worry about Josie right now.
This moment? It’s
all about the music.
Once we’re in our places with our instruments ready, Dane begins tapping his sticks in the air, setting the tempo for the first song. I come in with a steady G to F flat beat on the bass to match the tempo he just set.
The crowd is already cheering. We’ve grown a decent following since our first tour and two singles last year. We’ve had a few songs released strictly on online platforms for downloading too. This tour is to promote our first full length album.
But we start with last year’s biggest download first. The crowd is loving us, and Maddox and Ryder have learned to work the crowd even better than a year ago.
It’s almost a surreal feeling to see a crowd react to your music. It’s a whole other feeling to see them singing along. To see that look of understanding and excitement in their eyes.
It’s the last song that matters most tonight. The same song we made the video for. Our first single from the new album that drops tomorrow.
The crowd’s reaction will be a big indication of where we will stand.
It’s nerve wracking to say the least and I am literally just an instrument for this one. I can only imagine how Maddox feels. Not only does he have to sing it, but he also wrote every word and every note.
But the song represents all of us. We may not have written it, but Maddox put to words something I think we all feel. I know I do.
He opens his mouth and that voice that told me the first time I heard it we were going somewhere starts low and gravelly singing the first verse.
I loved you from a distance
Even though you were here.
Tried everything to make you happy
But you only gave me tears.
Why can’t you see me?
I know – can feel it with every fiber of my being – that this song is it. I knew the first time I heard Maddox play it. But tonight? Tonight, watching the crowd react, I have absolutely no doubt. This song is our game changer. This song is the one that will catapult us into the stratosphere.
As the last note fades out, the crowd erupts. We all stand there for a moment, catching our breath. Just taking it all in. We exchange looks. I imagine the grin on my face is just as goofy as the one on my friends’ faces.
