by Cleo Fox
She'd be the only groupie that would ever get in our pants, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Her fingers fly over the keys of her Blackberry as she took down everything Harper was saying and pointing out.
Harper glances over his shoulder at us, his salt and pepper hair glinting in the overhead lights. "We're going to head to the stage to do a soundcheck and then you can chill in the green room for a bit as they let the crowd in.
Evie also glances over her shoulder. The gold glitter on her eyes sparkles and her dark red lips look so fucking kissable. I just want to shove her against a wall, wrap her legs around my waist, and fuck her senseless.
We turn a corner and we all step onto a stage lift. A worker makes it ascend to the stage. People run around making sure the lights work and setting up our massive Stuck sign made with thousands of lights. Our instruments wait for us, set up and ready to go.
Titus runs to his drums that stand higher than our spots on the stage and climbs the steps. "This is so fucking cool! I can see the entire stage and the first couple rows clearly. Tonight is going to be awesome!"
I grin, watching as he grabs a pair of drumsticks and does the opening beat to All Night. He stops to adjust the placement of some of the drums, before doing it again.
Evie comes and wraps her arms around my waist from the front, and presses a kiss to my neck. "This is so exciting! I can't wait to watch you guys play and make all those girls go wild."
Darius comes to sandwich her between us. He nuzzles his face into her neck. "You like it when we turn other girls on, sugar?"
She tilts her head to the side allowing him room to kiss her neck. Her fingers push under my leather jacket and David Bowie t-shirt, flexing against my skin as Darius kisses the spot that always turns her on.
I watch her eyes flutter closed, and I run a hand along her side. "Answer him, Evie."
She bit her lower lip and releases it slowly. "I like it. You guys turn them on, but the only one that gets to have you is me. Oh, fuck, Dar. That feels so good, but you have to stop. You guys need to run soundchecks."
Darius chuckles, as he gives her neck a final kiss and pulls back. "That we do, but you better believe I'm going to pick up where I left off tonight."
She raises her hand. "Ooops, I left a kiss mark on your neck."
I grab her hand before she can wipe it away. "Leave it. I like having your lips on me.” She smiles and I can't resist any longer, pulling her into a hard kiss, letting her know she’s going to get fucked hard that night after the show. I break it.“I can’t wait for tonight.”
Her chest heaves. She blinks, regaining her senses. “Neither can I. I’ve been wet all day from all the excitement. I love you, my Lancelot.” Her head turns to look over her shoulder. “And I love you, Dar.”
***
Sweat rolls down my face. As Navin finishes the last riff of the evening. The crowd jumps around, glow sticks in their hands, screaming their heads off. The ones closer to the stage try to reach out, but the security keeps them from jumping the gate. As his riff dies, I lift the microphone to my face. "Thank you, New York! You've been an amazing audience! Good night!" I throw my water bottle into the crowd, something past crowds have loved, as Navin and Darius throw their picks. Titus runs down onto our part of the stage and tosses his sticks. All of them can be easily replaced. The girls in the front rows go wild all grabbing for the various items that we'd touched.
God, I bet Evie is dripping from the sight of it all. I can't wait until we could have her back at the hotel. We exit as a group off the stage. I hand the mic to a roadie, and Navin and Darius hand off their guitars. I grin as we round a corner expecting Evie to be waiting for us and bouncing off the walls. My smile falters as she’s not there, but Harper is.
He greets us with a tight-lip smile. "Great show boys, great show!"
We stop near him, I and the others more concerned about Evie. "Where's Evie, Harper?" I ask. I glance to the others, hoping one of them has spotted her.
Harper peers around and runs his hand over his hair. "You know, it's hard to say. I haven't seen her since you guys went on. Maybe she was tuckered out and went back to the hotel early. It's not too big of a deal, arrangements for tonight have already been taken care of."
My stomach rolls. Evie's not the type to randomly leave, especially on the night of our first huge concert.
Navin holds out his hand to Harper. "Can we have our phones back now that we're not on stage?"
We all hold our hands out expectantly. Evie never took our phones before a concert, the music is normally too loud to have to worry about one of them going off. "Right, here you go." He reaches into the inner pocket of his tan suit and pulls out our new smartphones. We just got them with our first big checks.
"I'll call her and see where she's at," says Navin.
I nod but also pull up my text messages with her.
Me: U ok? Where r u? We'll come to u.
I look around again as if the message will make her randomly appear in front of us.
My gaze goes to Navin as he frowns and presses end on the call. "She's not picking up."
I frown, it's not like her not to pick up. "Let's check the green room, and then we'll go to the hotel." My heart hammers. Normally I wouldn't be worried, but it's not like her not to be waiting for us after a concert, and she always responds to texts if we're apart. I look down at my phone, but my message remains unread.
We move as a group toward the green room.
"Again, great show, guys!" Harper calls after us.
All I care about right now is finding Evie. We'll celebrate our first big concert after we know she is okay.
***
After not finding her in the green room, or the van, we have the driver take us to the hotel where our luggage is in the room. Darius opens the door. "Evie?"
We all hurry into the room, expecting her to be sitting on one of the beds or taking a shower. Our luggage sits in the room, but her two bright purple bags are missing.
"Fuck, where is she?" asks Titus as he gathers his long, bright pink hair in his hands. He pulls out his phone and tries texting her for the third time. She's not responding to any of us.
I collapse onto the bed. "What do we do? She's not responding to us. She seemed excited about tonight, she wouldn't just runoff. Do we call the police?"
Navin sits down. "We'd have to wait until tomorrow for that, and we're getting on a plane to fly to Texas in the morning. She's twenty, the police won't take it seriously unless we have proof something bad might've happened to her."
Titus crouches on the floor, head in his hands. "What if something bad did happen to her?"
Darius sighs. "Her luggage is gone, though. That means she would've had to come back here to get it, and her room key is over there.” He points to the dresser under the tv. “Doesn't that mean she left of her own choice?”
I frown. "Why would she leave? She seemed excited about tonight, she didn't seem put out in any way or unhappy. Wouldn't she have said something before running off?"
Navin runs a hand through his shaggy hair. "Maybe there was a family emergency, and she didn't have time to say something. Let's just wait a little while, and then we'll call her mom and see if they're together."
I don't want anything bad to happen to her parents or grandparents, but god I hope that's the reason. It'll make the most sense.*
But that hadn't been the reason for her running off. We waited to hear from her up until we were about to get on the plane to Texas. We called her mom. The woman didn't know what had happened, but she said she'd spoken to Evie that morning and that she was fine, we shouldn't worry.
We called her every other day after that, trying to get information on what happened. What we did wrong, or where Evie was, but she only knew as much as Evie would tell her, and all she knew was the girl was traveling.*
"You're all good," says Darius, as he tapes the end of the gauze. I blink, coming out of the memories of that day. We all reall
y need answers about what happened. I need to know what changed during the ninety minutes we were on stage. We'd been happy, and now we're here. She's a shadow of her former self, drinking, and smoking.
Navin sighs. "We should go pick out some rooms and get unpacked. She's currently in your old room, Lance. I suggest picking another room."
I stare at my bandaged hand for a second. "That's not an issue. I'm not attached to it anyway."
We leave the bathroom and head back downstairs for some of the luggage. We have more stuff in the van, along with our instruments, but they can stay there for the night. It isn't like there are a ton of people around who could steal it.
Titus looks around the living room. "She's changed some of the furniture, but it still feels like our home away from home. A lot of firsts here."
I nod. It's surreal to be back here after almost eleven years away. The last time we were here, it was just the five of us, a few months before we got signed. We came up to snowboard, but our parents weren't here, so we made love to her in every room of the house all week long.
I peer back toward the stairs. Will we ever get to do that again?
Chapter Five
Evie
Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my body and go to the mirror. The weed high fades from my brain and the whiskey from before wore off long before I ever got in the shower. Wiping away the steam from the mirror that covers most of the wall, I stare at myself. Fucking hell, even with a shower I still look like shit. Bags under my dual-colored eyes, and skinnier than I've ever been; it doesn't look good. I’ve lost most of the killer breasts I used to have. With all the alcohol I drink, I should have a gut, but I don’t. Silver linings, I guess.
My gaze goes to Micheal's picture on the counter, having pulled it out of my hoodie as soon as I could. "Why couldn't they have come back after I got my shit together?"
Picking up the picture, I stroke my fingers over his laughing face.
Tears enter my eyes. "I don't know if I can do this, Micheal. I thought I'd moved on, but seeing Navin fall apart in front of me brought back so many emotions. But I don't know if I can love again. I'm too scared of losing them when *he* comes back. You're the only one I ever told the truth."
My stomach rolls as that night's events swirl in my brain. I rush over to the toilet and lift the lid, heaving into the bowl. The sour whiskey mixed with stomach acid burns my throat and I cry harder.
***
After pulling myself together, I dig under the sink for my makeup, I haven't worn any in three years. Most of it has expired, but I can't face them looking like this any longer. I used to always look good. Makeup and hair done, something cute to wear. Old me would cringe at the swamp thing I've let myself turn into.
My phone buzzes on the counter and I glance at it, my mother, yet again. Might as well give in at this point. I swipe over the green button and put it on speaker. "Yes, mom, I know. They've shown up. I appreciate you trying to warn me."
"I've been calling you since yesterday young lady! I've left messages. Do you know how worried I was? What if you… I don't even want to say it!"
"Were dead?” I supply. “Already tried that, pretty sure I have nine lives." I pat the concealer under my eyes.
"That's not funny, Evangeline Pearl! You should be thanking god that boy found you when he did!"
I wince at her use of my middle name, I've always hated it."Mom, please."
"Did you at least clean up the place before they came? Make sure their beds have clean sheets?"
"I cleaned last week, so it's not bad. I have no idea what rooms they'll pick, Mom. We aren't kids anymore going to the same rooms we have before. It's not like you and dad are here or their parents. But there's clean sheets for when they need them. It's not as bad as it used to be."
"It was really bad, Evangeline, when we were there two years ago. You looked like a trash hoarder! The other parents would've been so mad if they saw how you were treating the place."
"The others don't know I'm staying here, at least that's what you've said. After you and dad helped me clean it up, I haven't let it get that bad again. I swear."
The concealer does little to cover up the bags, at least it feels like it does nothing. I move on to a little foundation.
"Are you going to get back together with them?" she asks after a beat.
"Mom."
"I know none of us liked the idea of that group thing when you guys were younger, but after Micheal and the-"
"Mom, I don't want to talk about this." I cut her off before she can finish her sentence. I just got done crying.
"I'm just saying, it would be good for you, and you loved them so much. I still don't understand why you ran off. I'll be shocked if they forgive you after what you put them through, and with no explanation to any of us."
"I'm not having this conversation, mom. Bye, love you."I hang up on her before she can utter another word.
I doubt they'll forgive me either. I would never ask them to give up their dream for me and that's why I left, because I knew they'd give it all up after they just got to the big leagues.
They would've never been happy, and Harper would've made sure they never got a big deal again. I couldn't let that happen to them. I can't let that happen to them now either.
Despite what feelings might come up, I can't give in. Putting on a pink gloss, just enough to give my lips color again, I glance at Micheal's photo. The thought of being with them also makes me feel as if I'm cheating on him, even though that's not possible.
Leaving the bathroom, I get dressed. Choosing a pair of black jeans, and a simple white t-shirt, along with a form-fitting black windbreaker. Not the stylish outfit I would've picked out at one point, but I didn't want to send them the wrong idea by wearing something sexy.
Taking a deep breath, I hold it for a long moment and let it out. Going to the door, I hesitate only for a second before opening it. I have to face the music sooner or later. Their voices carry from the living room. I descend the stairs. I find them sitting around the coffee table on the gray L-shape sofa and plush armchairs I'd gotten years ago. Their luggage no longer sits near the door, so I guess that means they found their rooms.
I clear my throat. "Did you guys find sheets and things for your beds okay? They're in the closet they've always been in."
Darius peers at me from his armchair. "Yup, got it all covered."
Titus grabs at his blue hair, an action he’s done since we were little kids. I used to find it adorable, and now I find it troubling I still do. They can't just walk back into my life and I instantly go back to the feelings I had then. That's not how this is supposed to work, right? Or did I never stop loving them? Panic constricts my lungs. I want to run. I want to run so bad. But I told Navin one week. I have to keep my word to that. It's the least I can do.
Where the fuck do I sit? There's room on the sofa, but it all feels so strange. I look toward the kitchen and my smoke box.
Fuck it, I need a joint and a drink, but I should build up to drunk.
I head towards the kitchen and open the box on the counter. It holds my various pre-ground strains and rolling papers. I grab for the hybrid. It won't lock me into the couch, but it won't make my heart race either. I usually only smoke the sativa if I need to walk to town or want to clean the house.
Lance clears his throat as his boots clunk on the hardwood floor and he comes closer. "Listen, about earlier, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let my temper get the better of me and accused you of things."
I continue to focus on rolling a joint with a filter, I've gotten quick, preferring them to pipes or a bong. I shrug a shoulder and don't look at him. I can't. Looking at them makes the past rise up inside me. What if I want to kiss them? Feel their hands and lips on my body. It's been so long since I've had that kind of connection to another person. Micheal was the last person to touch me like that.
It's not cheating if I'm with them, it can't be cheating.
Why am I trying to con
vince myself? What do I expect to come from this? I can't be with them again. It'll ruin their careers. No, I've already decided it can't happen.
"Evie?" Lance lightly touches my shoulder and then pulls it back.
I wet the paper adhesive and seal the joint. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I slapped you, I shouldn't have done that." I hold up the joint. “Do you want a joint, any of you?” I call over my shoulder to the others.
Lance frowns. “When did you start smoking weed? You were such a straight edge even up to twenty. And, sure, I guess.”
I hand it to him, along with a blue lighter with a white tiger. The others enter the kitchen, moving to sit at the round table. I take that they must want one. They were the stoners when we were in high school. People thought since I hung out with them, I was one, too. Far from it, I was such a different person before life hit me in the face.
I start to roll another one. “Around twenty-two when I decided to go to college.”
Titus perks up. “You went to college?”
I nod as I finish rolling another joint and set it aside, aiming for five total. “Yup. I traveled solo for a year and a half before settling. I didn’t have much else to do. I decided to go to school. I got a B.A. in music management, technically I’m only a few courses short of getting my Masters as well, I just haven’t done it yet.”
My life got put on hold, and now I’m here, unsure if I even have the willpower to do something like college at almost thirty-one. It’s not like I’m doing anything with my life now, no new potential anything on the horizon and a sinking literary career, but it also takes a lot of mental strength to get through finals, and I’m not sure I have that in me.
“So you could open your own record company if you wanted,” Darius says.
I glance over at him as he tilts his chair back on two legs. I shrug a shoulder. “Yeah, I mean, anyone can open a record company without the degree, but yeah.” Micheal and I had already been in the process of starting one, but after everything, I shut it down not having the strength to do it on my own or replace his spot as producer.
