Chapter Two
DANGER
It’s fucking heart-wrenching walking back into my house in England, which I shared with Ella. Everywhere I look is proof of the life we made together, the pictures on the wall, the furniture we chose.
Everything in here is us.
I can’t stand being here. Period.
So I head straight for our bedroom, dragging my suitcase behind me and hoisting it onto our bed. With skilled precision, I upend the thing, then turn and start to repack. This time, instead of vacation items, I pack it with clothes and crap I want to keep and will need.
I’m in a mad rush, not wanting to be here longer than necessary.
Looking around our home one last time, I shake my head, disgruntled, as I gaze at the engagement photographs of us on the wall. We seemed so happy. What a farce that has turned out to be.
There is no way to stop the anger as I form a fist and punch the glass, shattering the frame before it falls to the floor. My knuckles burn, but I don’t care. It’s nothing compared to the rage in my chest.
This shit fucking hurts.
I pick up my cell and call the one person who might be on my side.
The phone rings twice, and then he answers, “Rob speaking.”
Sighing at the sound of not only my boss’ voice but Ella’s agent, I murmur, “Ella left me.”
Rob is quiet for a split second, and then I hear him sigh down the line. “I thought something was happening. Aston said you’d left Honolulu but wouldn’t tell me what was going on. Where are you?”
Aston, one of Ella’s bandmates… figures!
I rub the back of my neck, trying to soothe the kinks and look around the room again. “Back in England, but I’m about to take off for the States… for good. I’m leaving the house and everything in it. Can you deal with its sale? Give Ella whatever she wants, but sell everything else.”
He exhales down the line again. “Danger, I know this is a big deal, and I am sorry. But you can stay in England. You’re damn good at your job. I hate losing you.”
I work at Rob’s record label beside him.
When I left Recoil in the States and moved to the UK to help Ella focus on her band, I wanted a job in the music industry.
So, she hooked me up with her agent. It’s been a great job.
I’ve enjoyed it. But it’s not quite as thrilling as being on stage, up in lights with throngs of adoring fans at my beck and call.
“Rob… no. I know I’m leaving without notice and letting you down, but I need to. I can’t…” My throat closes, and I trail off with the tension building.
“Okay, I understand. I’m devastated this has happened to you and regret that it turned out this way.
I’ll give you a reference for any position you want in the States.
But honestly, when I saw Recoil on tour with 12GAUGE-Slayed and Staked, you guys rocked the shit out of the stadium.
Perhaps you should concentrate on the band if they’ll have you back.
You need to refocus, and now, without distractions, your band could be great.
Your energy and enthusiasm are phenomenal, and the band’s music is perfect for today’s market. ”
Raising my brow, my mood lifts slightly. “You think so?” I ask.
I haven’t thought about Recoil in a long time because my life has been all about Ella, but now I’m free to think about myself and what I can do with my life.
Not what I have to give up to be with Ella.
Maybe now is my time to shine?
“I do, Danger. Get back on the horse. Go. Perform. Get back into the music scene that you love. You were born to be on stage. And don’t worry, I’ll look after the house and everything here in England. You go find yourself again because, mate, you were born to be on stage.”
Finally smiling, I nod even though he can’t see me. Finding me again doesn’t sound so bad. Maybe there’s a bright side to this shitstorm. Recoil was everything to me pre-Ella, now post-Ella, maybe, just maybe, it can be again.
“Thanks, Rob, appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. And, Danger… keep in contact.”
Managing a small smile—feeling like I actually have one person in the UK on my side—I exhale. “Will do, Rob… will do.”
After finishing the call, I consider Rob’s take on things. Perhaps redirecting my focus and moving back to the States with the notion of reforming Recoil is the way to go.
Will the boys have me back?
That’s a damn good question.
All I can do is hope like fuck they don’t kick me to the curb.
***
All this flying in such a short amount of time is hard on the body. My muscles ache, and I’m sure there are warnings about health risks, but I need to be home.
My real home. Los Angeles, USA.
It’s been a long time coming, and it has been even longer since I’ve been back here.
Living in the UK for the last year has been a challenge and a massive change in my lifestyle.
Being away from my bandmates and family has been brutal.
A more than obvious step in the wrong direction.
I know that now, but hindsight is the mother of all bitches when she wants to be.
Forming Recoil was something that came as a natural progression back when I was young.
At school, I met twin brothers, Matt and Nate.
Matt’s ability to coax out the bassline in a song and develop the deep tenor in the harmonies was something I’d never heard.
While Nate's mastery of percussion dynamics is unmatched.
Ryan joined the band as lead guitarist not long after we left school.
The licks he can run are extraordinary and out of the realm of my abilities.
It was this realization that solidified my role as lead singer and rhythm guitarist in the band.
Our foursome was tight.
Our music was solid.
Our thunderous rock power riffs were electrifying.
Everything was going great.
We’d found our niche.
But everything changed when touring and playing alongside the grunge rock band 12GAUGE-Slayed.
That’s when I met… her.
Ella Slade.
A knot forms in my chest as the cab pulls up in front of my old home. I lived here with Ryan, my best friend and lead guitarist, through many tough times.
I’ve missed him.
The crazy guy who was always there to cheer me up, no matter how somber my mood got. Ryan’s a character who never fails to entertain.
Even though he is older than me, him at the ripe old age of thirty-two, and me at twenty-six, we immediately hit it off when we met. Nothing could get between us—even a six-year age gap.
Nothing except for Ella.
Don’t get me wrong, he loved Ella, and they got along great. I think he didn’t realize how crazy I was about her until I left the USA to be with her. Then shit hit the fan, and our friendship faltered. I know he feels like I chose Ella over him and the band.
Let’s face it, I did.
I wish I hadn’t, but I’m here now to make it right.
The house looks exactly the same—stucco front with white trimmings. I didn’t realize how homesick I was until I’m sitting here staring at it right now.
Taking a deep breath, I hop out of the cab, grab my luggage, and pay the driver. He speeds off, leaving me looking up at the driveway with an ache in my stomach.
Ryan doesn’t know I’m coming.
I thought surprise could be the best angle.
Let’s hope I’m right.
My luggage rolls along the ground, making a racket through the quietness of suburbia. Cicadas chirp their evening song while I swallow hard, finally making it to the door, and the setting sun fades in the distance through the Eastern Redbuds lining the street.
Taking a deep breath, I gently rap on the door. Ryan’s taking forever to answer, so I stand back and straighten my shirt. Briefly, I wonder if maybe he isn’t home when the porch light flicks on and the latch clicks. Steadying myself, the door opens, and the shadow of Ryan appears in the doorway.
I half smile, but he shakes his head. “Jesus, dude, it’s good to see you. I’m shocked to see you…” He hesitates, then blurts out, “You look like shit. Oh fuck! I heard about the plane crash… did Ella—”
“No. She’s fine. Just decided her life is better off without me.”
Ryan sighs, his face falling as he steps aside to usher me in. Walking into our old home, I realize it’s the same, with shit all over the floor. A general pigsty like always.
“Dude, that blows.” He clasps my shoulder, and I shrug.
“I’m dealing.”
“Yeah, I can smell that.” He smirks.
I roll my eyes. “I uprooted my life and left everything behind. All I have is this suitcase.”
Ryan winces. “Just like when you packed up everything and took off for England. No goodbye, just a note on the fridge saying you had to go… for her. She was worth it, and you were sorry.”
I grimace at his harsh tone. “I know… I was a prick. I was so blinded by my love for her that I threw away everything that meant something to me here.”
“You threw away our lives too, Danger. Me, Matt, Nate. We were as much a part of that band as you were. We were headed places, and you up and left with no warning…” He scrubs a hand through his hair. “That kind of shit pisses people off.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling the tension I totally deserve. “I fucked up. Big time. But I was thinking maybe now I’m back, you, me, and the guys could pick up where we left off. Get the band back on track. Give me something to work and live for?”
Ryan scoffs. “So now you think it’s fine to just waltz back in like you didn’t royally screw us and just act like we’re all best buds again?”
Cracking my neck to the side, I exhale. This is not how I pictured this going. “Ryan, c’mon, we’re best friends—”
“We were best friends. Till you got pussy-whipped and took off after her, leaving us all behind to pick up your mess. We had to move on, get real jobs while you gallivanted with the fucking Slades. So, no, Danger, you don’t get to just come back when your world falls apart to fit into ours…
” The sigh is heavy before he continues, “Look, I’m sorry you’re hurting, bro, but the truth is, the band had to move on because you moved on.
Now you have to find a way to move past this as well. ”
Nodding, I flare my nostrils in frustration.
This was my plan.
This was my only plan.
This idea kept me going.
Well fuck!
“You know what, Ry? If you don’t want to reboot the band well, that’s your loss. We were fucking great. Did I screw that up? Yeah… I’ll admit that, but I came back here intending to right that wrong. But if you’re too damn pigheaded to take my apology, then fuck you.” I stand and head for the door.
“There’s the Danger I know, not that pussy-whipped mother fucker Ella turned you into.”
I snap back around and glare at him. “You know what? She did change me, and not for the better. I more than see that now. I’m better off without her.
Fuck! I’m probably better off starting afresh and making a new life.
I can do anything and be anyone I want to be.
I’m Danger three-point-fucking-oh. Watch this space, Ryan.
I’m gonna make it, with or without you. You know my number.
” I flick around and head back for the door with my head held high and a newfound strut in my step.
“I’m sorry this wasn’t the welcome home you wanted, but things have changed. You made us change. It killed us and the band when you left. You have to know that, right?” he calls out.
I simply nod. “I know. I’m sorry. If I could change what happened, I would. I did come here to try, but that’s now up to you.” I walk out of the house and back down the path.
“Where are you gonna go?” Ryan calls out.
With a simple shrug, I keep walking without looking back.
Where am I gonna go?
That’s a damn good question.
Since Ryan has made it abundantly clear that I’m not welcome, I don’t have a home.
I don’t have anything.
In my haste to leave the UK, I didn’t think about a backup plan. I thought returning to the States would make me feel like I was home again. But right now, I feel more out of place here than I did in the UK. At least there, I had friends, a stand-in family, and a damn job.
I suppose I could go home to San Francisco and see my sister, Mouse, and her husband.
But she’s always so full of her own self-importance, and I’m sure she’ll make me feel like shit about Ella.
As for Mom and Dad, there’s no way I’m going to see them.
They’re way too much hassle. It’s too hard to cope with their hippy bullshit.
Turning back to look at Ryan, I shrug. “Don’t worry about me, Ry. I’ll find my feet. I always do. Oh, and clean the house, you filthy animal.”
Ryan chuckles as he stands in his doorway, watching me walk away. “Glad to see some of the old Danger is still in you.”
“He never left… he was only dormant for a while.”
“Glad you’re home, Danger.”
“I’m glad I’m home too, fucker. Offer’s still on the table… but don’t take too long to come crawling back to me.”
“Find yourself, Danger. Then we’ll talk.”
I take a deep breath while walking along the path with my luggage dragging behind me.
The first thing I need to do is call a cab.
I’m not sure where to go, but then an idea hits me.
While I’ve traveled as a rock star, I have never truly enjoyed the places I’ve been.
I was always caught up in the lifestyle, whether it was with my band or Ella’s.
I could travel.
I could see the world.
I mean, truly see it.
Money isn’t an issue after making so much with Recoil before I gave up on them.
I could leave and see the world as a tourist rather than a rock star or the fiancé of a rock star.
I have a plan.
I am going to travel.
Fucking lucky I have the appropriate visas. Managing bands with Rob has helped, so I don’t have to wait.
I’m going to brush off my shoulders and try to bury my cock in some foreign pussy while wiping my mind clean of everything Ella fucking Slade.
Here’s to dusting off the heartache and doing Danger’s version of eat, pray, and fucking whatever I can.