Her First, His Last

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Her First, His Last Page 6

by J. M. Worthington


  "He did, but Wade, their new guitarist, and Sawyer talked him out of it. He loves music, but he hates being away from you."

  I hated it too.

  Chapter 9

  I t had been three years since my mother’s death, and Manuscript had finally landed the big break they had worked hard to achieve.

  Myles’s colossal hand was shaking immensely, making it hard for him to grip the pen he was using as he signed a deal with a larger indie label. It paid them enough, so they were able to focus all their time on music. I knew in the pit of my stomach that Manuscript was destined for greatness. They were too talented for anything less. I was also aware that having a record deal meant he would start touring all over the country. A sharp, horrible pain crushed me as I batted back the tears and plastered on a smile. I was losing him. It was the biggest day in Myles’s life. I would never let him know it was one of the worst days of mine. It bought back the feelings I had when I lost my mother. My mother chose drugs over me, and then, music was the most important thing in the life of the only man I could ever love.

  As soon as the ink dried on the contract, the record label insisted the band spend all their time in the studio recording their first album. It was evident that the only time we would have together were the few days Myles could ink out between stops on their tour of one small arena after another. They flew out to Japan to support a big European band around Christmas. It kept him away for the holidays too.

  In the summer of 1987, they were either in the studio in Los Angeles or at an apartment they rented on the Sunset Strip, writing new songs. They finally finished recording their album in May, and spent the next few weeks doing nothing but rehearsing and performing at the Whisky-A- Go-Go.

  It changed Myles’s and my relationship. We hardly spent any time together. If he hadn’t called and reminded me daily, he loved me, I would’ve begun to doubt we even had a relationship at all. Myles had the bright idea that we would take that magical walk down the aisle as soon as I finished school. If we were married, Granny would have to let me go on tour with the band. I knew it was his way of holding on to what we had together.

  When school started back after a long and lonely summer, I enjoyed being recognized as Myles O’Conner’s girlfriend. It pretty much made me queen bee of the school. At least senior year wouldn’t suck as bad as the last eleven years.

  The American leg of their tour was slanted to kick off in October. I couldn’t attend any of their earlier concerts as Granny wouldn’t allow me to travel too far from home and missing a day of school was out of the question. It angered me. Myles would be rich and famous soon enough. What did it matter whether or not I finished high school? Granny wouldn’t listen to any of my arguments. She was determined I wouldn’t need a man to take care of me, no matter how much Myles might make one day.

  Having had enough, I begged and threw a few hissy fits. Finally, Granny allowed me to fly out to Atlanta to see my first ever concert.

  Thinking back now, the trip should have been a no go for me. It was the first time I had visited Atlanta since my mother’s death. The idea of finally being in the same room with Myles took any dread away. Being greeted in the airport by a chauffeur, holding a sign with my name in large print—it hit me. Manuscript was a bigger deal than I wanted to admit.

  The chauffeur escorted me out of the terminal to a stretch limo —a stretch limo. The car easily cost more than the trailer where Granny and I lived. Yet, it wasn’t the car that grabbed my attention. It was Myles. He had leaned against the limo with a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. Myles pushed off the car the minute he saw me and took off in a fast jogged with the biggest grin on his face. Tears welled up in my eyes as I remained frozen. Myles grasped me around the waist, swung me around in a circle, and kissed the side of my head. My heart finally calmed because I was with Myles.

  “Damn, Em. You are so unbelievably beautiful. I missed you, Blue Eyes. So damn much.” Every time Myles referred to me as Blue Eyes, my heart pitter-pattered against my rib cage.

  Everything was right in my little world. I had my Myles again. I was in his arms, surrounded by his smell. I don’t know why I ever worried about his feelings. The way he looked at me showed me unequivocally how much he loved and missed me.

  “Sorry, it was Jimmy and not me that met you in there, but it’s crazy now. I can’t go anywhere without having a fan notice me. I just wanted today to be about us.” Myles laughed, causing me to smile widely at the hint of happiness in his voice.

  As if on cue, two girls came running over, begging for an autograph. Myles smiled and signed a few pieces of paper and one boob. He was finally famous, and it was what he had worked so hard for all these years. How was I supposed to respond? When the girls left, he turned to me and said, “I’m sorry, babe, but I told you it was crazy now.”

  I laughed, pushing him away. He gripped my hand, yanking me along behind him, beaming like the odd and erratic cat in Alice in Wonderland. My eyes scanned down to his butt when we hopped into the limo. Myles pulled out a medicine bottle from his back pocket and swallowed down a few pills.

  “What are they?” I asked.

  Myles positioned me onto his lap as he talked. “Just fighting a headache, babe.” He pointed to the driver. “Jimmy, this is my Emma.”

  Jimmy waved from the driver’s seat. He was a large black man with a completely shaved head and wore a Highbridge navy-blue custom-made suit. You could still tell Jimmy was a He-Man under his clothes. I had an inkling he was more than a driver. I had to like him if he took care of my Myles. “Nice to meet you, Miss Emma. This chap never shuts up about you.”

  I couldn’t respond. The stupid grin planted on my face had my lips unable to form words.

  I squeezed my arms around Myles’s neck, and his arms tightened around my waist.

  “Wait till you see the penthouse I rented. From now on, it’s first-class for us.” Myles pulled me in for a kiss, gripping the sides of my cotton shirt tightly. “We’re here, Blue Eyes.”

  Jimmy pulled under an awning at the hotel, and I stared with my mouth gaped open. “We’re stayin’ at the Peachtree Plaza?” I could remember learning in school that it used to house governors and was later transformed into the most superior hotel in Atlanta.

  “Yeah, you told me one time that you use to dream that was where you slept at night. I want to make all your dreams come true.”

  Myles seemed to have adapted to his new life. I was in a complete daze. The Peachtree Plaza was more pretentious than I ever dreamed. Our rooms were decorated in a lavish, modern flair with a touch of Victorian eloquence.

  “Close your mouth. This isn’t the most impressive thing I plan on showing you tonight.” He moved his hand to my face. His thumb ran along my bottom lip, causing my lips to part, and I expected him to kiss me again. Instead, his lips touch down on my nose and then my forehead in a surprisingly sweet gesture.

  After the bellhop unloaded my luggage, Myles leaned over, lifted my chin, and kissed me on the lips—a wet, open mouth, full-on kiss.

  “God, I missed you” I thought but was unaware I said the words aloud until he responded.

  “I’ve missed you so damn much. Promise me; you will never listen to the rumors. You are all I’ve ever wanted.”

  The only thing I comprehended was he missed me.

  We spent the next couple of hours exploring our bodies. Myles had grown more aware of how his body worked and where to touch mine. I wouldn’t allow my mind to wander there. I was still a virgin and didn’t lust after other boys. My body only craved Myles. But I was fully aware that he had groupies already fallen at his feet. I saw a woman at the airport—easily in her late twenties—expose her entire chest. I trusted Myles, but not them.

  When Myles left with the band to do a soundcheck. I stood in front of a full-length mirror, looking at myself. I wore a black leather mini skirt, a bright pink bodysuit, black fishnet stockings, and neon pink heels. My newly permed hair was placed in an asymmetrical updo. Myl
es sent me the money to pay for something special to wear. I couldn’t show my grandmother. She would have never approved of the large, plastic dangle earrings, much less the fishnet stockings.

  I had never felt more nervous than I did when he walked back into the room. Myles’s jaw dropped onto his chest. I must have achieved the desired effect, as I watched his mouth close then open again, and his throat moved as he swallowed. He walked over to me and very gently ran the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip.

  “How did I get so lucky? Have I told you how much I love you?”

  Words escaped any thought I might have had going. So, I remained silent and let him lead me by the hand to the elevator.

  We met up with the band in a private parking garage. I smirked over at Jay, then waved to Sawyer and Wade—the guitarist I had only talked to on the phone—but Myles had raved about. Their girlfriends traveled with the band, and they seemed surprised I was even there. Actually, they were in their twenties and didn’t really seem to like me. One indecently clad female snarled and asked loudly, “Who is she?”

  Myles cut his eyes over at her, and the old saying, if looks could kill, was true, she would have dropped immediately with a heart attack.

  Myles pulled me into one of the two stretch limos. Jay joined us.

  Jay sat in the seat opposite us and poured himself a glass of bourbon.

  “Listen. I know you two think that you are in love and have it all figured out, but if you want a career in this business, you need the chicks lusting after your ass.” Jay paused again. “So, keep your mouth sealed about the little girlfriend.” He took a sip of his drink. “When you are out in public, treat this one.” He motioned two fingers in my direction. “Like your little sister. Understand?”

  Myles nodded. My world shifted sideways, and an unwanted heat rushed to my face. Words buzzed through my head, but I could not voice any of them, so I nodded.

  “How’s the leg?” Jay asked, but I felt it had a double meaning.

  “Fine,” Myles answered, then clutched his jaw.

  “Does your leg still bother you?” I whispered.

  “It’s okay.” His eyes were downcast as if he were hiding something from me.

  Ten minutes later, we arrived at the arena. I wanted to throw up as we pulled around the back of the building and were escorted through a set of large back doors.

  Jay shoved a backstage pass in my hand. “Remember, Myles belongs to the fans, not you tonight.”

  I nodded, but my blood boiled, and it melted through me. I waited until Myles wasn’t paying attention, then flipped Jay my middle finger. I would play Jay’s games, but Myles would always be mine.

  Myles held my hand until we entered a large lounge. People crammed into the room to get a glimpse of the band. I stood helpless as the band members were given their instruments and wired up with mics and earpieces. Myles appeared in front of me and said, “I love you, Emma… Emma Murphy. I love you more.” He went to kiss me as a stage manager pulled him away and placed him in position.

  Chapter 10

  J ay led me out to my seat. The room grew silent, and as the lights went down, he said, “Remember, you are no more than a fan tonight.”

  The spotlight roamed around the room and landed on the band, and the familiar beat of the first song started, and the ground beneath my feet vibrated. It was our song. The song he wrote not long after my mother died. They had never started with a ballad before. Jay warned him, not to mention me. Myles still found a way to let me know, I was at the forefront of his thoughts.

  Staring up at the band, my eyes locked with Myles’s. He ran a hand through his hair. I wondered if he realized the effect that had on the girls in the crowd.

  It had on me.

  By the confident smirk on his face, I would say he did.

  If jealousy hadn’t already taken over me, it did with a simple comb of his fingers.

  Sawyer was where he always wanted to be front and center, and Wade Orr, my red hair twin, and their guitarist, was off to his right. Camden Livingston, their new bass guitarist, rounded out the group on stage. Camden was tall and lanky. His mahogany brown hair fell onto his face as he looked down at the guitar he was playing. And to Sawyer’s back-left, Myles sat at the drums.

  Myles started tapping the sweet medley on the drums. Chills shot out like needles over my body. Lost in the song, my entire body moved with the beat he set.

  My heart sputtered because Myles was so Myles. He was doing what he was born to do.

  He sucked up all the attention without even trying.

  I was vaguely aware of the guitar riff coming to an end when Sawyer whistled and said, “There is a girl out there who needs to hear this. Hey, Jay didn’t tell me not to acknowledge you. Be good to our boy tonight. For some reason, he really loves you. FYI, I love you too, but like a sister, so don’t get any kinky ideas.”

  My teeth clenched together like glue.

  Sawyer, why?

  “Sawyer doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.” I suddenly felt a hand on my elbow. “Come with me.”

  I glanced up to see Jay standing there. He motioned with his chin toward a door in the back of the room. Resigned to my fate, I followed him. He held up his pass toward security and ushered me inside.

  “Here put these on,” Jay said and tossed me a pair of earphones.

  We walked down a semi-dark hallway packed with band paraphernalia and roadies bustling back and forth.

  “I’m about to blow your mind.” Jay smirked. He opened a door that led to a metal ramp. The music was deafening. I held my hands over my ears but had the cheesy grin on my face as we approached a curtain leading to the stage. It was hypnotizing, watching the guys play from a vantage point that most people will never get to experience.

  Their backs were to me, but every time Myles turned his head in my direction, his eyes locked with mine. The beating of my heart relaxed a bit.

  The next song started. Someone rushed past me, carrying a guitar out for Myles to play. He placed his sticks on the drums and took a seat on a nearby stool.

  “This one is for you,” he said, then started to sing in a voice so beautiful it was haunting. He sang about someone being his fire, his one yearning. The lyrics convey a depth of emotion and the way Myles sang it, every word wrapped around my heart and caused it to constrict.

  Jay disappeared. I am sure he left to remind the band; I was unwanted collateral. Unwanted by Jay and maybe, the fans, but not the band. Not Myles.

  When the show ended, my insides twisted together, causing an intense need in me.

  “Thank you, ladies, and I guess, gentlemen, but mostly the ladies,” Sawyer said to the audience, and the band ran off the stage as the audience went wild.

  When the band walked backstage, Myles darted down the ramp and eyed me standing off to the side.

  “Come on, Blue Eyes, don’t I even get a good job or, at least, a kiss?” His eyes went wide with excitement, and I let his energy wash over me.

  “It was okay,” I started to say before his tongue invaded my mouth.

  The crowd started chanting, “Encore! We want Sawyer! Sawyer, Myles, Encore!”

  “Give them everything you have left, guys.” Jay eyed me from head to toe.

  Someone handed Myles a towel, and he wiped the sweat from his face. “We have to do one more song, and then I’m all yours, okay,” he said before some roadie led the band back on stage.

  They played one of their newer songs. Without an ounce of radio play, the fans still loved it.

  Myles stood up and placed his sticks on the drums, and then the entire band took a bow. The clapping and screaming were deafening. If this was the response they were getting when their debut album was only a few weeks old, then I couldn’t wait to hear the crowds when they were on top of the billboards. Casey Kasem would be playing their songs in no time.

  Myles was the first one off stage and jogging straight to me.

  His eyes were wide, and his pupils as big as d
imes.

  That should have been my first clue he was hiding so many things from me.

  “Blue Eyes!” He yelled and lifted me off the floor in a hug. His excitement was infectious.

  He threw his arm across my shoulder, and we made our way to the hospitality room to grab a bottle of water. Sawyer and most of the crew had a beer. Myles stuck with water. I wonder if it was for my benefit or his drink of choice.

  The room was packed with groupies; some were beautiful, some not so much. They all made me feel inadequate and uncomfortable. I wanted to leave, but I understood Myles needed to network.

  “Are you going to be good? I need your support. I know this is hard to see, but it is part of having fans. I need fans to make money doing what I love. I love you and music. Don’t make me choose.”

  “Who would you choose?”

  “You.” He kissed me hard on the mouth. “I love you, Blue Eyes, so damn much.” His lips moved slowly as the words came out even slower. His adorable and familiar mannerism eased the rage in me. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got to ask Wade for something.”

  Myles spent the next two hours greeting contest winners, talking to the press, and meeting with executives.

  I sat alone in a room full of strangers. As I glanced around, I realized how different his life was. He was experiencing so many new things without me. We no longer seemed like a team. I was Emma, the loner schoolgirl, and he was an up and coming rock star. My boy had finally hit the big time.

  It had been a night from my own version of hell, and I couldn’t wait to get out of there and away from the smell of stale liquid, screaming fans, and drunken roadies.

  Lost in the deep tunnels of my overthinking imagination, I didn’t hear the commotion until Myles rubbed against my shoulders. “Some reporter just said I was the brains behind the band. Aren’t you lucky? You get to go home with brains and beauty.”

  The rambunctious noise was because my boyfriend had entered the room, and I was to pretend I was no more than the little girl next door who hero-worshipped from afar.

 

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