42. Chapter Forty-Two
There”s a sudden knock on my hotel door, and I don”t feel like dealing with it. Whoever is on the other side, I wish they would just fuck off and leave me alone. I”m suffering from a killer hangover.
The knocking intensifies, turning into forceful thumping. “Xander, get the fuck up now and answer this door!” Ace shouts from the other side, his thumping growing louder by the second, aggravating the throbbing ache pulsating through my head. “We’re all downstairs waiting for you, asshole.”
Shifting my legs to the side of the bed, I run my hands through my hair as his relentless thumping persists. “For fuck sake, Xander!”
“Yeah, alright, I’m coming, asshole.” I muster the energy to push myself up from the bed and stride towards the door. With a forceful pull, I swing it open, desperate to halt the pounding that feels like a drill piercing my brain.
Ace glances down. “Put some clothes on, man. I don’t want to see your fucking junk. Now hurry up.” He walks into the room ahead of me.
Closing the door behind me, I turn around only to find a pair of jeans thrown at me, landing on my chest.
“Put these on now and hurry the fuck up. Reg is already pissed.”
“So what? The asshole can wait.”
I try to put on my jeans but almost fall over because I”m still feeling the effects of last night”s alcohol. Damn, I bet I”d still be over the limit if I had to take a breath test.
“We were supposed to leave forty minutes ago. Why the hell didn”t you answer your phone?” Ace asks, gathering my belongings from the floor as he moves around the room.
He throws me a crumpled shirt, signaling for me to put it on. I have a clean shirt in my bag that I never bothered to unpack, but I’m feeling too drained to retrieve it. The one I wore yesterday will do because I can’t wait to get out of this fucked up town that always brings me down.
“There’s something we need to discuss,” Ace says, walking over to the couch and hastily gathering all the items of mine that are scattered on the floor, stuffing them into a bag.
“Yeah, I get it, asshole. I need to quit drinking.” My mimicking tone echoes the words I’ve heard from him countless times over the past five years. “Or else I’ll end up like my father. I’ve heard this shit before. It’s time for a new subject.”
“No,” Ace replies. “Well, yes, you really should quit drinking. I already talked to Theo about keeping you supplied with bourbon all night.”
”Yeah, I never thought you”d become such a boring old fart at twenty-four, always bothering me with nothing else to do,” I snap back.
“And I never thought I”d be the one to call out my friend for ruining our dream.”
“Fuck you.”
“Put on some shoes, asshole,” Ace says, when all my things are loaded up in my bag.
In an attempt to defy him, I act like a spoiled child as I walk over and grab my shoes. With determination not to comply with his request, I slip my phone into my pocket while holding the shoes in my hand. Making my way towards the door, I prepare to leave.
The atmosphere in the elevator is tense and quiet, and I can sense that Ace is itching to criticize all of my flaws. It’s such a stark contrast to how he used to be in our school days when we would hang out together. He embraced me, faults and all, understanding that this was the real me. But now, it’s clear that the mere thought of my actions annoys him endlessly.
As the elevator doors open, my head is pounding like crazy, and I’m immediately met with deafening shrieks that threaten to make my head explode. Five girls sprint towards Ace and me.
”Hey, Xander, can you sign these?” One girl passes me a marker and lifts her top for me to sign her skin.
Back in the day when Ace and I used to talk about our groupies and fame, I always imagined these moments to be fulfilling. I believed it would make me happy to have the world at my feet and the power to have any girl I wanted. I had this vision of attaining a god-like status, adored by millions. But to be honest, it hasn’t lived up to my expectations. These girls only desire the version of Xander they see on stage, the persona portrayed to the public. None of them truly understands the real me, the one burdened with deep scars. The one who sometimes struggles to breathe. The one who yearns for something more meaningful than the life I find myself in. This empty feeling that”s been haunting me for years.
After snapping a few more pics and signing some more tits, Ace and I head towards the side door where Reg and the rest of the band are waiting. The rest of the group is already in the car. Reg stands alone, his gaze fixed on his phone.
As soon as we approach, Reg turns around. Even with those sunglasses and his wannabe security guard vibe, I can tell he”s pissed. I”ve seen that look on his face so many times in the past three years, ever since I found out the record label was screwing us over and now I refuse to comply.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, his voice filled with irritation.
“Avoiding you, asshole.” I move past him and get in the car beside Theo.
Once Ace and Reg get in, the car takes off to the airport. I stare out the window, purposely avoiding eye contact with Reg. I know that if I turn my head, he’ll be glaring at me. One of these days, I swear I’m gonna lose my shit at him.
“Well, have you told him?” Reg asks, no doubt just wanting to hear himself speak. He always enjoys doing that.
“No,” Ace responds. “I don”t think now”s the right time.”
I glance at Ace, who is looking at Reg with a silent plea for him to be quiet.
“What do you have to tell me?” I ask. My voice carries a sharp edge as I lock eyes with my childhood friend. There are moments when I feel like I don’t even recognize this guy anymore. He has changed, and not for the better. I sometimes wonder if he enjoys being controlled by the label that owns us, since he always does everything they tell him to do. The Ace I used to know never gave a damn about authority or the rules. This version of Ace is incredibly embarrassing compared to the hot-headed, rule-breaking kid who used to be my friend. It’s like he’s completely sold his soul to the label.
“What’s going on?” Nate asks.
“Nothing that affects you?” Reg says.
“Hey, listen up, fucker,” says Nate. “If something affects Xander, it affects all of us. You can’t just throw out a comment like that and keep us in the dark.”
Lately, Theo, Nate, and I have been having conversations about where the record label is taking us, and we’re not happy with it. Unfortunately, we feel powerless to do anything about it. On top of that, everyone here thinks Reg is a complete asshole, all except for Ace.
“We have a few matters to discuss concerning the upcoming tour,” Reg states. “On Thursday, the label wants to address a few things—”
“The rules, you mean. Just say it straight. It’s all about the rules,” interrupts Nate.
“Come on,” says Ace. “We can sort everything out at the meeting.”
I eye Ace for a brief moment before redirecting my attention back towards the window. There’s no point in arguing or trying to make my point heard because, regardless of what I, Nate, or Theo say, no one listens. We’re merely humble puppets to be manipulated by the damn label. Sometimes, I wish I could boldly tell them to go screw themselves and that they can stick their contract where the sun doesn’t shine. However, I could never do that to the rest of the band, including Ace.
Soon enough, we reach the airport and board the company plane. At least this way, I can create some distance between myself, Reg, and Ace for the next couple of hours, until we finally touch down.