Plush (21 page)

I take a swig, then he. I take two more. Trees shade us from a world that hates me. “Annie told me to write a hit just like that – poof! Like I’m a fucking hit genie!” Enzo looks at me a little sad. Oh, I don’t want your fucking pity, boy.

I take out my poetry book all full of lyrics and drawings and thoughts and things. Some are crossed out: I hate sharing myself too much, exposing the real me. I take another couple of sips. “Look here’s something, but it’s super fucking rough.” Enzo is not smiling; he’s looking inside me. I can feel it. “Then whisper it to me.” But I don’t want to. But for some reason, I can’t say no to him like he’s got a power over me. I start to whisper-sing,
“You’re dripping in my dark dreams…”
Enzo grabs his guitar and starts to play a riff. I wish I was his guitar. “Try again over this…”

Me:
“You’re dripping in my dark dreams, I feel you over everything…”
He brings his head over mine so he’s breathing close to my neck, and he sings the next part with me.
“The smoke curling around my neck dragging me into rose-thorned beds… I can’t stop myself, no, I can’t stop myself….”

I’m frozen in the pain of wanting to surrender. It’s like he already knows me and everything I’m thinking. But maybe I’m just that obvious. Enzo straddles me. I want to give all of me over to him. All of me. Fuck. But the kids. Carter. I can’t be like my mom.

“No. Awww, fuck Enzo… I can’t; this is crazy. I just can’t keep fucking up like this…” I slide out from under him, stand up, and start to walk away. He’s following me. I like to be chased.

“What’s so fucking crazy, Hayley? That we make great music and even better sex -- that we’re meant – “

“What do you mean… Fuck… That wasn’t a dream? Last night? Oh, I was so fucking loaded.” Wasn’t that his long, lanky fingers
rearranging my sadness into opiates of explosions
… or was it the vibrator… or did I know it all along? I can’t even remember what I fully did.

“You know what happened, Hayley. And you wanted it. But no worries, I was safe.” I walk even faster. He catches up to me and kisses my shoulder. I freeze – I want him so badly it’s breaking me… “Enzo. I’m married. I have kids. Please. And besides, I thought you’re into guys…” He starts to walk away from me. Don’t leave. No – if you don’t stop, I won’t say no…

“Hayley, Hayley… uh… I’m not gay; I’m open-minded.” A renaissance man. He says it so strong and with such disappointment like my Texas-bred ass doesn’t understand things like that. He keeps walking further away. I run after him and get in front of him so he has to stop and look at me. I’m falling deeper into my despair of desire for him. Take me. All I want is for you to take me. And like a fucking cliché, I state that it could maybe work if what we do on tour is only for when we’re on tour.
What’s wrong with me?

Enzo promises me that he never tells his secrets, not ever.

He shoves me against a tree. Oh. This is what I want. I’m so wet. His mouth is touching my ear… “You know I know you, Hayley. I know your core…I can give you what you want.” He whips off his belt and wraps it around my wrists behind me and lodges me to the tree. I’m so fucking wet, so fucking wet. He smiles at me so demonic. Enzo. I will give you anything. Anything.

He tightens the belt, and it cuts into my wrists, and it’s hurting me bad, but I want to hurt somewhere besides my heart and my head. He puts his hand over my mouth just like when we ran from the fan and yanks it tighter. I want him to do whatever he wants. I’m so weak – weak everywhere. My will, my self, is dissolving into the strength of his. Whatever horrible things he wants of me, I want to give. I will give you all of me, Enzo. All of me. I will be your all, your anything. Just do it to me. He pulls away his hand and brings his lips just a centimeter from mine. We are deep breathing into each other, so deep. So hard. Enzo I want you to possess my body the way you already possess my mind – in its entirety. Surrender.

And with one yank, the belt is off me and off the tree and he walks away. He didn’t even kiss me.

Shit.

50
    Sept. 16, 2012

All I can think of is him. It’s our last show in Austin. I want Enzo.

I love you like I should

not love you.

I love you but can’t have you,

and for this tonight I cry,

wishing once you would

run me into the river

of your arms,

quiver my legs,

make me feel whole again.

The show is over. We walk off the stage. There is applause, but not like how applause used to be with Jack. We head downstairs, and I go into my dressing room. Casey fixes my hair, wipes away my forehead sweat. I light a cigarette. Brush my mouse tail along the floor in rhythm with my heart.

There’s a gift basket in the corner with a hand-crocheted sweater and a black bow. How cool. A swig of Jack flask of Jack and I pick up the card. ‘
I <3 you
’ in that dark lipstick. Ick. I don’t want to open it up but I can’t stop myself. The thick paper sealed with red wax reads:

HAYLEY WE are MEANT TO BE

HAYLEY you are EVERYTHING

HAYLEY IF you DON’T FIND ME

I WILL FIND YOU

THEN THERE’S A PHOTO OF ME EXITING THE HOTEL ROOM WITH ENZO FOR THE HIKE. WHAT THE FUCK? SUPER FUCKING GROSS! I feel beyond sick – a twisted-loss-python-stranglehold around my safety, my sanity. I want to run, but I keep reading:

I KNOW you

BYE BYE
.

I throw the card. That disgusting fan.

“Casey, just let go… NOW! I gotta go.” How the fuck did that sick fuck get in my dressing room? I need Enzo. I go out into the hallway, and I hear sadness coming out of the green room. I stop just on the side of the wall so no one can see me. I just listen, like I used to when dad was drunk and sobbing and left retarded messages for mom on her voicemail. That’s when I learned nobody could save you except yourself, but this is one of the many wisdoms I never put into practice.

I can hear Diego’s sweet voice. “Look what this critic said… just look… ‘Seems like her brother had the talent.’ What about us? There are three others on stage too I mean – “

Donnie butts in: “Things are seriously f-d up man… I mean, my groupies this tour are like 24-years-old. Only the old school fans are left… This is seriously fucking with my chi. I mean, I need freshness; I need cherries; I need – “

I walk into the room and silence falls like snow on everyone like I am death himself coming to take them away. I smile and dance and they all freak out like ‘what am I on to not be moping around as usual?’

“I’ve already started to write the next album with ENZO, and it’s FUCKING BRILLIANT! HAND ME SOME FUCKING CHAMPAGNE! THE QUEEN IS HERE to stay!”

All eyes glee-swing to Enzo. He’s the cat that ate the canary.

Donnie swoops me up and spins me around: “And like that! Bam! My chi is back!” Annie runs and hugs Enzo – her condo is fucking safe – and of fucking course Annie wants to hear something.

I look at Enzo. He smiles back. “Annie, give me like half ah fucking 8-ball of coke or speed if you can’t find coke – WEEEEEE! And you’ll have a lot to hear in the morning.” I run up to her, twist her nipples, jump on her front, and pony-gulp-down the whole fucking bottle in a swig while dry-humping her. The room shouts and cheers like I’m their drug queen, magic fairy, song hero, day saver. FUCK YEAH!

51

I’m A
SPEED FIRE QUEEN!
Enzo and I bust into my room like ninjas pretending to slash the air, and he pins me against the velvet walls, his tongue devouring me like a lost cause. Something is awakening inside of me, something big, something I once had. For the first time since Jack’s death, I feel free. Magnetic. Enzo magnetizes me into him. He throws me on the bed like a toss pillow and we laugh hard.

I grab my poetry book and he grabs my guitar on the other side of the room. It’s insane how much he looks like Jack if I don’t look at his face, or maybe it’s just that he feels like Jack but not fully Jack – just like part of Jack. He pushes his eyes right close to mine: “Don’t think, Hayley… Just say it… Say what you feel and we’ll make it.” I need somebody to translate me and these raw emotions to the world. I pull out the pen. He turns the recorder on. I close my eyes.

Breathe. Feel myself. That’s what Jack would tell me to. Fall into the red and black behind my eyes. I hear Enzo playing a riff on the low E string, deep down, dark, and beautiful. I let the riff possess my body. I feel the truth behind the mask.

“He burns me up like a roller coaster,”
I sing. It sounded OK. I can do this. Feel it Hayley. Don’t let your judgment destroy the moment. Enzo comes in with his perfect voice changing a note:
“I don’t know which to believe except love is like dying…”
It’s perfect. Go, Hayley, go:
“From one beautiful grave to the next, I’m sliding…”
We look at each other. We know what we already knew deep down inside: we’re magic. He completes my sentences too. This is Jack coming back, giving me something.

“Enzo! Enzo! Let’s go into the pre-chorus right here… So it’s like two lines of verse with no vocals and then three lines of verse and then hit an a-minor right now then to an E or maybe G-flat? How does that sound from the verse riff?” His hands electrify the strings, electrifying the strings he’s attached to my heart. With each note he plays, I feel myself wanting him more.

He goes into the pre-chorus and the words and melody just fly from me.
“I’m gonna go right now with him
…”

Enzo:
“I’m gonna give in to sin…”
My heart skips a beat and I tremor as I complete:
“You’ll lose yourself so damn deep you won’t even know how to find yourself again.”
He makes a pause in the guitar and goes into the verse riff again. Our eyes are locked in a spell. He sings into me.
“I say – don’t look so hungry or you’ll get nothing”
Me: “She
leans like dean in dreams and screams, ‘NOTHIN IS CERTAIN’
.”

The light makes a halo around his head. I have never wanted anything as much as this here now – someone to understand me, someone I can tell my secrets to. He finishes the second verse off:
“I pull her hair; she’s never been violated like she’s wanted.”

Me: “Let’s change the pre-chorus here a little, just with lyrics…”

He starts it again:
“I’m gonna go right now with her.”

Our eyes are still locked, unwavering from each other. My eyes would need to check the guitar fret-board, but his don’t. Enzo pulls his head a little closer and sings:
“I’m gonna give into skirt…”
Me:
“You’ll lose yourself so damn deep you won’t even know how to find yourself again so…”
And just like that he sings the next line in unison with me, even though we didn’t know what it was yet.
“GO, GO, GO!”
He hits chorus chords and we just lock in, knowing without knowing why or how, singing the truths of each other without understanding.

“La… la… la-la-la – I’m playing with fire…”
We are in a trance.