Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
Felix
The crowd roars behind me as I down my drink, slamming it on the bar.
“Damn, Felix!” Jinger says.
I hadn’t planned on running into my pop-star label acquaintance when I’d decided to venture out, but I supposed she was as good as anyone to drink with.
Drinking alone sucks.
“Keep ‘em coming, buddy,” I say through a belch, as hands pull at my shirt and jeans.
I don’t know who they belong to, nor do I care.
“Smile!” she coos, flashing her camera at me.
I smolder into the camera, grinning with my platinum-selling smirk.
“Make sure you get my good side, baby.” I laugh as the bartender hands me another drink.
I’ve lost track of how many I’ve had, but it’s not enough.
It’s never enough to drown out the voices in my head.
You piece of shit, no wonder he left you.
I move away from the bar, feeling uncharacteristically depressed despite being the center of attention. Bodies slam against me, hands squeezing and roving over my sweaty shirt, pulling at my belt.
Most of them are women, which doesn’t really do it for me, but given the fact that I’ve had a shit day, I’m almost drunk enough to consider the idea of ruining someone’s pretty makeup.
The label would just love it, too, wouldn’t they? Probably slap me on the back if some pops caught me with my dick down a bitch’s throat instead of a guy’s.
Jinger pulls at my arm, trying to sequester me into a selfie, when I see him.
Sully.
Kissing some glitter-fied bitch who’s got her hand in his pants.
I know I shouldn’t say anything. I should just bury all my thoughts, my memories, but I can’t.
I can’t fucking think straight.
Because I’m not straight, no matter what the label tries to say.
Memories erupt like ballistic volcanoes inside my brain.
Sully with his hand around my throat. Fucking me over the amp on the side of the stage.
Sully’s hands in my hair as he shoves his dick down my throat on the tour bus.
Sully calling me to come over after he broke up with Jinger.
After he broke up with Petra, Amanda, and Veronica.
The cameras flashing as he held them on the red carpet, as I drank myself into solace.
Just once I wanted someone to hold me the way he held them.
I don’t even know how I got here, standing in front of him, but he doesn’t even see me.
She’s all over him, his hands sliding up her skirt.
I think I’m going to be sick.
All I want to do is crawl into a hole and disappear.
I can’t even fucking go out for some goddamn drinks without him taunting me.
How the fuck am I supposed to just forget him?
Forget what we did?
I turn away, running into Jinger, who looks just as forlorn as I feel.
Our eyes meet, and I feel like I might literally die if I don’t leave this seventh circle of hell.
“Felix...”
“Not now, Jinger,” I bite. Her tone is full of sympathy, but I don’t want her sympathy.
I don’t want anyone’s.
The world around me blurs as I drain my drink, slamming it back down on the bar.
Jinger grabs me and I throw her off.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” I hiss.
Her eyes widen, and she falters. I know she’s been slamming them back, too.
“What’s your problem?” she nips, as a crowd forms around us.
Flashing lights tell me they’re filming, taking pictures.
I know I should care, but I don’t.
I don’t care about anything anymore.
Because no one cares about me.
And maybe that’s why I throw all my fucking sanity out the window.
Maybe that’s why I climb on top of the bar, crunching glass with my boots, stumbling for balance.
I scream his name from the top of my lungs,
When Sully hears me, he turns, his face going slowly from shock to horror.
“Fuck you and your whores, Sully. They’ll never be me.”
My cock twitches and I don’t hesitate to take it out, palming it for good measure.
“Suck my dick, asshole.”
The flashing lights blind me, and I stumble back farther.
Right off the fucking bar into strong, solid arms.
“I got him, Lou.”
Pain shoots through me as the world fades into hollers, clicking cameras, and a blinding voice that sounds all too familiar.
“Christ, Felix, you really did it this time, didn’t you?”
I grunt in response. “Fuck you, Lou, you don’t understand.”
The unknown voice chuckles darkly, but I don’t recognize it, though it sounds faintly familiar.
“Come on, Felix, it’s time to go home,” the deep voice rumbles.
I don’t want to go home.
It’s too big, too cold.
Too empty.
I twist in his arms, the mystery man, but his grip is solid.
“Time to sober up and face the music, kid.” Lou sighs heavily as the cool air kisses my skin. I think we’re outside, but I don’t remember walking.
“He’s worse than Issax,” the other voice drawls. “Shit, is he always like this?”
Lou chortles. “No. Just when he doesn’t get what he wants.”
I spit at Lou, but I’m not sure it lands.
“Fuck you, Lou. I’m Felix fucking Hart. I always get what I want.”
I’m throttled up against a hard surface. My shirt catches on the brick.
I open my eyes, staring back at a familiar face.
The drummer from earlier.
From Hollow Pointe.
Duncan McKay.
His deep, amber eyes burn into mine, full of fury and expectation.
I writhe underneath his grasp. His hand around my throat settles some fucked up shit inside of me, making my cock hard.
I don’t remember putting it back in my pants, but I’m acutely aware of the friction of my jeans against my shaft.
“Not today, Felix. You get what you deserve. Now shut the fuck up, and get in the car.”
Duncan’s fingers loosen their grip as he lets me down, and I stumble. My gaze meets his, then Lou’s, who is standing next to his Escalade. The back door is open.
I say nothing, because I can’t.
Because he’s right.
I deserve shit.
Because I am shit.
Lou chuckles. “Well, that’s a first. I think you rendered him speechless.”
Rough hands settle on my shoulders as I’m pushed forward. I let Duncan help me into the car while Lou takes the driver seat.
When the door shuts, I lean my head against the tinted window, staring out at the world outside.
Images of Sully and me threaten to spiral again, and I shove them down.
What I deserve...
Fuck.
I don’t deserve anyone.
Fucking hell, why does it hurt so bad?
I close my eyes, trying to shut out my jumbled thoughts.
Lou turns up the radio, and familiar lyrics ring in my brain.
I’m waiting in the Black Sea
Baby, for you
I’m drowning in the Black Sea
Baby, save me, from myself
I stifle a sob as I remember the night I wrote Black Sea.
Sully thought it was terrible. He called it emo.
I zone out as I watch the street lights pass by and I listen to Duncan and Lou laughing, going on about “the old days.”
Jealousy stings me, because I don’t know what that’s like.
Everyone thinks because I’m famous my life is one big yellow brick road.
But the truth is, my life is the fucking Hunger Games.
There’s always someone else threatening to take my spotlight, always some bullshit tightrope I need to walk to stay in everyone’s fucking good graces.
It’s exhausting.
The closest I’ve ever had to a good time, has been with Sully.
But even that didn’t last.
The door opens and Lou looks at me with disdain.
“Come on your majesty, your castle awaits,” he nips.
His tone pisses me off. He acts like I’m a fucking child.
I’m twenty-three years old, for God’s sake.
“Think I’m fine where I’m at.” I sneer as I curl up into the back seat, stretching across the cushions.
I hear Lou curse before I’m literally being dragged out of the back seat like a damn sack of potatoes, thrown over heavy, broad shoulders.
“Put me down!” I holler as I kick and writhe, a heavy, large hand settling on my ass, holding me in place.
“No,” Duncan grumbles as Lou laughs his ass off while he punches in my code.
“I can walk into my own fucking house!” I say as I twist like a rubber band in his steady grasp.
Lou opens the door, and Duncan all but throws me down on my couch.
I fall with a thud, my boots hard against the wooden floor.
“That hurt, asshole!”
Duncan grunts. “Good. Maybe it’ll knock some sense into your ass.”
I grumble as their voices carry, further and further from me.
I slink back into my cushions, relishing in the silk against my chilled face.
“Fuck you, McKay,” I hiss, as the world around me fades into black once more.