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Authors: Meghan Quinn

Fame (6 page)

BOOK: Fame
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“You’re right about that.” Willow looked at her watch and said, “Hey, I have kind of a date that I have to get to, but let’s exchange numbers because I totally want to hang out later.”

“Yes, I would love that,” Maelani replied, as they typed each other’s numbers into their cell phones.
 

“Hey, are you still with that Jared guy?” Willow asked, while Maelani finished typing in her number.
 

There was a slight crease in Maelani’s brow at the mention of Jared’s name, making Willow think that things must have gone sour. When they were in a foster house together, Maelani actually left the house at the age of seventeen to go live with her boyfriend, Jared, who was twenty-two at the time. That was the last Willow had ever seen of her.
 

The relationship between Maelani and Jared was always a strange one. He seemed to overpower her most of the time, but Maelani was alright with the way he treated her, so Willow never said anything. But by the way Maelani’s mood changed in a matter of seconds just now, she figured something must have gone wrong between the two of them.
 

“No, we’re not together anymore.”

“Okay…” Willow felt uncomfortable.
 

“Sorry,” Maelani shook her head. “We can talk about that some other time, not quite a conversation to have in front of the lube aisle.”

“Understandable,” Willow nodded.
 

“Are you getting lube?” Maelani pointed to the bottles.
 

Willow looked over her shoulder at the fun she was about to embark on and nodded. “Yeah, the date is a bit of a sexual one.”

“Please, tell me he’s someone you met on tour,” Maelani said, while her demeanor turned from somber to joyful.

“He is,” Willow wiggled her eyebrows. “He’s so hot, Maelani, like drop dead gorgeous and Latin. He’s really good in bed, but that’s all we really have. It’s nothing serious; we just meet up for a good time.”

“Oooh, you have a fuck buddy.”

“I do, and he is a fantastic one at that. Maybe you can come over later; I would love to introduce you, you’re practically family.”

“Maybe,” Maelani shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t want to interrupt your slippery sexing with all the lube I can see you purchasing.”

Laughing, Willow said, “Yeah, maybe stop by Sunday for brunch then. I’ll text you the address; it’ll be fun.”

“Sounds good.”
 

Maelani reached over and pulled Willow into another hug. Willow wrapped her arms around Maelani and relished the comfort of someone familiar other than her bandmates.
 

“I’ll see you Sunday,” Maelani winked and started to walk away.
 

Willow called out and said, “Oh, and by the way, you look damn fine, girl.”

“You do too,” Maelani waved and walked toward the registers.
 

Feeling elated, Willow walked over to the lube with confidence and grabbed her favorite kind, as well as a pack of condoms that would be pleasurable for not just her, but for him as well.
 

Her phone beeped in her pocket, letting her know she got a text message, no doubt from Cruz. She pulled out her phone and was surprised to see it wasn’t from Cruz, but from another man.
 

Declan: Hey, gorgeous, I’ve been thinking about you. You want to meet up sometime, get a drink…

Smiling to herself, she texted back because, frankly, she could. She and Cruz were just fucking, nothing more, and they allowed for themselves to be with other people, so she had zero guilt in texting Declan back.
 

Willow: Hey, handsome. I’m game. Let me know when and where. Tonight, I’m occupied, but I’m open Friday.

His text back was almost instantaneous.

Declan: Friday it is. Wear something sexy, I have plans for you.

Willow: Mmm, I can’t wait.
 

Feeling spicy, Willow grabbed extra nacho sauce and headed for the checkout counter. She was in for a treat tonight, and then Friday, she was going to dabble in a little Irish eye candy named Declan.
 

**Rook**

Journal Entry #162

The smell of rotten trash and decrepit flesh keeps permeating my senses, to the point where I find myself dry heaving over a toilet most of my day. My therapist has strongly encouraged me to leave this house. He has told me that all it’s doing is stirring up deep rooted emotions that we are trying to overcome.
 

We, funny that he used that term. He acts like we are some kind of team, battling the demons that have been haunting me ever since I can remember, but all he does is talk to me, gives me his shit-tastic opinion of my life, and then sends me a bill. Yeah, he makes me talk about things I never want to talk about, but that’s all he does. They say talking is supposed to help, well fuck that shit because all talking has done in the past few months is fucked me up even more.
 

Nightmares of my dad beating the ever living piss out of me run rampant through my head every night. I wake up in a sweaty mess, reaching for that one person who will give me comfort, but she’s not there. She doesn’t love me anymore, and I should stop thinking about her, but I can’t; she owns my heart, my fucking soul. I feel so God damn lost without her.
 

And what is so Goddamn funny about my fucked up life is that, for once, I put someone’s happiness, someone’s safety before mine, and even though I knew I was doing the right thing, I hurt her. I hurt her so fucking bad there is no way she will ever take me back, and to top it off, the reason I hurt her, pushed her away, saved her in my own mind, died a few days after, so I fucked up everything in my life for nothing, for fucking nothing!

Fuck, this headache won’t go away, maybe it’s because I sleep on the floor, in the closet of my old bedroom because it’s comforting. It was my space when I was younger and trying to hide. Maybe it’s because I’m slowly letting myself wither away. I wouldn’t mind dying, it would end the stabbing pain that is in my chest, and I doubt anyone would miss me; she surely wouldn’t.
 

There’s a pile of cocaine and heroin in the chest downstairs. I could do it tonight. I could end everything…join daddy dearest down in hell and be done with it.
 

The thought is tempting, almost too tempting…

**Maisy**

“That doesn’t even rhyme,” Maisy said, as she put her pen in her mouth and shook out her hair. She was going to drive herself crazy over lyrics with Kaid helping her.
 

“Blow and load rhyme,” Kaid defended himself.
 

“They actually don’t at all, and blow and load…really, Kaid?”

Kaid looked at her for a second, and then realization hit him, causing him to throw his head back and laugh from the pit of his stomach.
 

“I guess talking about blowing a load in a love song isn’t the most appealing thing.”

“You think?” Maisy said, full of sarcasm. “Why do I feel so blocked? I’ve never had a problem with writing lyrics, but the past six months have been torture trying to pull anything together.”

Kaid nodded his head as he looked at his fingernails, clearly avoiding eye contact with her.
 

“What? Just say it.”

With a gentle pat to her hand, Kaid looked up at her and said, “Baby girl, I hate to say it, but I think there is something you have to deal with before you can move past your writing block.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Rook.”

With the mention of Rook’s name, Maisy’s stomach flipped upside down and a light sheen of sweat started to coat her skin. Even though the man ripped her heart out, stomped on it, and left it bleeding in the parking lot where their buses were parked, she still reacted at hearing his name…because he was the one for her, the one man who could make or break her, and he took the opportunity to break her.
 

“I’m not going there,” Maisy said, while shutting her notebook and leaning back on the couch. “I can’t go there, Kaid.”

“Maybe you have to, baby girl. You have to close that door.”

“I have closed it; I’m with Cole now.”

“But, are you?” Kaid asked. “I know you’re physically there with him, but mentally, are you really there? Because I see the way you are with him, and I remember the way you were with Rook…they’re not the same, they’re not even comparable.”

“That’s because Rook owned me,” Maisy practically shouted. “He consumed every inch of my body and owned me, Kaid. I can’t just get over that.”

Nodding his head, Kaid agreed and pulled her into a hug. “I know and that’s what I’m saying. You need to find closure with that relationship. You need to find your peace.”

“So, what are you suggesting?” Maisy asked, not really knowing where Kaid was going with this.
 

“I’m saying you need to have a conversation with him.”

Pulling away from Kaid’s embrace, Maisy laughed and shook her head. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to go have a conversation with Rook. There is no way I would ever do that.”

For one, she didn’t ever want to see him again, and secondly, she knew deep down in her soul that if she saw him, she would be tempted to kiss him, to hold him, to ask him what the hell he was thinking, but she didn’t want to give him that chance; he didn’t deserve it.

“I’m not strong enough to do something like that,” Maisy admitted.
 

“You’re stronger than you think you are, baby girl.”

Could she really talk to Rook? No, no way. She could never do it.

“Why are you so adamant about me talking to him anyway? I thought you didn’t like him. I thought if you ever saw him again you would literally kill him. You were the one beating the shit out of him on the bus, telling him to never come near me again.”

Maisy remembered that day vividly, when Kaid found out what happened between her and Rook, he lost every ounce of self-control and went after Rook. The odd thing was, Rook didn’t even put up a fight; he didn’t even flinch. He just let Kaid attack him. He let Kaid take all his anger and frustration out on him. It wasn’t until Cruz showed up that Kaid was dragged off of Rook, and then that was the end of the tour.
 

Kaid was about to answer Maisy’s question when the door to the studio opened and Landon walked in, looking around. The minute he spotted Kaid, his face lit up and he practically ran over to him, just as Kaid got off the couch and flung himself at Landon. The two embraced and exchanged obnoxious hellos. Their little bro-mance was put on hiatus once the tour ended, leaving them to go their separate ways. From the look in their eyes, Maisy could tell they really missed each other.
 

“Holy shit, I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Landon said, as he pulled away, and then saw Maisy. Kindly, he went over to her and gave her a hug. “What are you guys up to?”

“Writing for the new album,” Kaid answered, while putting his hands in his pockets.
 

“New album? That’s awesome, you guys. I always knew you would do amazing. Didn’t you just come off of tour?”

“Yeah, with Meyer’s Men,” Kaid said.
 

Landon nodded, and then said to Maisy, “Oh, yeah, I think I saw you and Cole on some magazine cover, getting cozy.”

Maisy blushed and just nodded her head.
 

“He’s a good guy,” Landon added. “He and Rook never got along, though, that was for damn sure.”

“Yeah, well, does anyone get along with him?” Maisy muttered, as she opened her notebook back up to look busy. The last thing she wanted was to go into detail about Rook’s attributes.

Seeing one of the members from Shattered Souls wasn’t easy for her; it just brought back all the memories of being on tour with them, of all the memories she shared with Rook and everything she lost.
 

“He’s not a bad guy,” Landon said.
 

“Dude,” Kaid warned.
 

Landon shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just saying, he’s not. You might not understand him, but he has his reasons, or at least he did.”

The fact that Landon used past tense in his sentence was startling to Maisy. Why would he do that? Why did she care? She shouldn’t care, but when she studied Landon, she realized she didn’t like the somber look on Landon’s face and the way his demeanor changed instantly when he brought up Rook.
 

Curious, Maisy asked, “How is the man-whore?” Not very eloquent, but she didn’t care at the moment. She might be curious, but she still harbored some pure hatred toward the man for what he did to her.
 

“Not really sure,” Landon said, while not making eye contact with Maisy. “No one has heard from him since the tour ended.”

“What tour? The one we were on together?” Maisy asked, confused, since that was six months ago.
 

“Yeah.”

It was a simple answer, but it held so much grief, so much worry in it that Maisy instantly started to feel sick. She may hate the man, she may never want to actually see him again, but she would be devastated if something actually happened to him.
 

BOOK: Fame
11.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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