Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
Felix
“Get dressed. You’ve got The Morning Rise interview in two hours,” Lou gripes, throwing a heavy bag at me. It hits me right in the stomach, which makes me feel a bit queasy.
I open my eyes, blinking through the bright sunlight filtering in through my living room windows. I can hear Samson, my cat—er, Sully’s cat—meowing in the distance as Lou curses something about pesky felines.
My hands settle on a newspaper on top of the bag, and my eyes widen upon the headline.
Felix Hart Assaults Bandmate.
Immediately, the events of last night come crawling back to my brain. Remembering drinking with Jinger. Seeing Sully and some fucking fan or groupie...
My head throbs as I groan.
I pull the heavy bag off of me, peering in to see brand new clothes with the tags still on them.
I sigh, throwing them on the floor. My head is killing me something fierce.
“Do you have to fucking yell?” I grumble as I sit up.
Lou scoffs, waving a tuna can lid at me. “Your little stunt last night could have been a lot worse had Duncan and I not gotten there in time.”
I shoot him a glare, realizing his words a second too late.
Wait, Duncan was there?
The drummer from the audition?
I rack my brain, trying to remember everything. I vaguely remember him and Lou tossing my ass in the car.
Remember strong, sturdy hands slinging me over their shoulder like I was a fucking toddler.
I sneer at him as he walks over to my fridge, his back turned to me.
“Yeah, well, maybe Sully deserved it,” I hiss.
Lou sighs, pushing the open can of tuna to Samson, who stares at him judgmentally.
“You are making yourself look like the bad guy, Felix. Do you want to be the bad guy?”
Lou turns to me, raising an eyebrow as he opens a fresh bottle of water from the fridge.
He doesn’t even offer me anything.
Rude.
This is my fucking house he’s prancing around in.
“No,” I gruffly respond, running a hand over my face.
“Then get a fucking shower, get dressed, and let’s go control the fucking narrative, as usual.”
The spotlights of The Morning Rise are ruthless. I swear the damn show channels rays directly from the sun, just to make their guests uncomfortable.
I shift on the couch, trying to get comfortable in the black tailored pants the stylists put my ass in, but they are too hot, too loose for my liking.
This is why I prefer to dress myself, but no. Lou said I needed to look polite. Like someone who doesn’t show his cock to a roomful of strangers, obviously.
Combined with my hot pink button down, I feel like an absolute clown, but at least he didn’t fight me when I rolled the sleeves up to my elbows, so I could look more like me instead of some fucking asshole in a suit.
Give me a pair of ripped jeans and a tee shirt any day over this shit.
The host, Karen Ingram, stares at me with soulless eyes. Behind her, I can see the crew, including Lou, who stands there with his arms crossed, his gaze intent like he’s studying the fucking bible or something.
I hate press, truly. No one ever tells you when you sign the contract about all the press that comes with the music.
Some days, I just wish I could play and not worry about the production, the promotion, and the press.
Just me, myself, and my fucking guitar.
But I know that’s a pipe dream. I’m Felix Hart. Solitary, quiet, and chill is not my brand.
Karen smiles at me with that fake-ass Hollywood grin that all daytime talk show hosts seem to have, and I have to fight not to roll my eyes.
It’s been small talk since I came on, and I know the inevitable bombshell is coming before she even speaks.
“So, we have reports saying last night you and Sullivan Reign got into an... altercation over Jinger Holloway at a bar. What do you have to say about that?”
Now I do roll my eyes, my gaze catching Lou’s.
The label has repeatedly paid off tabloids to mention Jinger and I, and they have constantly pushed us together at events, trying to sell this idea that Jinger and I fuck.
Which we don’t, and I wouldn’t fuck the bitch if she was the last pussy on earth and I needed to save humanity.
Sullivan, maybe.
Jinger... no.
Still, the world loved to ship us like we were the Duke and Duchess of Kent or some shit.
Despite the fact, Sullivan was the one who actually dated her. For, like, three months.
“First off, there is nothing between Jinger and I. We’re just good friends. I can assure you we weren’t fighting over her. ”
It wasn’t a lie, completely. It wasn’t her I was pissed about. It was the second rate Barbie doll hanging all over Sully.
It was Sully fucking baiting me like a prize fish, and I took it like chum.
Anger boils beneath my veins as I think over the events of the night prior.
Remembering my antics in a hazy blur.
Fuck Sullivan Reign.
Fuck him to hell and back.
“I mean, am I not allowed to go out and get fucking plastered if I want? This is a free country, Karen.”
Karen purses her lips, her entire body tensing in her chair as she looks at me with disdain.
“Of course, Mr. Hart. It’s just that...”
I cock my head at her. “What? What is it exactly?”
Karen huffs out a frustrated breath, her gaze just as angry as I feel.
“Rumor has it that you and Sullivan Reign have been having... creative differences as of late. Can we expect to see him on the Pillars of Rock tour as well?”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Sullivan Reign has left the band, so no, you will not see him on the tour,” I bite as I glare into the camera. “Nor will you see him anywhere near my band.”
Before Karen can open her mouth, I continue.
“In fact, Sullivan Reign can take his creative differences wherever he wants. We’ve already hired a new drummer.”
I can hear Lou cursing behind the cameraman as Karen’s eyes light up.
“And just... who is this mystery man that you’ve found so... quickly?”
I smirk, looking Lou in the eye.
I know he’ll probably kill me for this, because whether or not he’s hired Duncan, he’ll have no choice when I broadcast his name all over daytime television.
If there’s one thing I know about Lou, he’s a master of fixing shit.
The man’s been putting out my fires for nearly seven years.
“Duncan McKay,” I say with a superficial grin.
Karen nods in approval. “The former drummer of Hollow Pointe ? Well, that is quite a surprise!”
I nod slowly. “Yes, so while it sucks that Sullivan Reign has decided to move on from such a phenomenal tour, I can honestly say working with one of rock’s very own pillars , is bound to be quite an amazing experience.”
Then I turn to the camera once more, flashing my own grin.
“So make sure you grab your tickets to the Pillars of Rock tour, and I’ll see you there, motherfuckers.”
I get up just as the camera crew curses, knowing they didn’t have enough time to bleep me out on the air.
Karen scrambles behind me and people run every which way like chickens with their heads cut off, but I don’t give a shit.
Fucking Karen thinks she can sit there and talk to me like a damn child, she’s got another think coming.
“Felix, you were amazing up there!” A voice stops me in my track, just before I get to my dressing room. Lou is hot on my tail, and I don’t want to hear his snide comments about how I’m such a dumbass right now.
The woman who stands in front of me is cute, by conventional standards. She’s short, curvy, and has poker-straight blonde hair with a spray tan to match, just like Sully prefers.
A part of me wonders if she’s been in his bed, but that only makes me angrier.
I sneer at her, as she looks up at me with big doe eyes, like I’m a fucking messiah or some shit.
All obsessed fans have the same look. Like they’re just self-sacrificial lambs throwing themselves at you to be slaughtered.
Which gives me an idea, as I see Lou pushing past a cameraman.
“Thanks, doll. But we both know why you’re really here, so let’s cut the shit. I have about five minutes before my manager rips me a new asshole, and I’d like to spend those next five minutes coming down your throat. Capisce ?”
I force a grin. I know she’ll submit, they always do.
Anything to get in my fucking pants, so they can gossip to their friends and anyone who will listen that they sucked off a famous rockstar.
Her cheeks redden, but she nods as I open my dressing room door, pulling us inside.
“On your knees,” I command, wasting no time. She drops like a hot potato as I unbuckle my belt, unzip the zipper.
Pulling out my cock, I chuckle to myself, thinking about what a difference twelve hours makes.
I close my eyes, and I pretend she’s someone else.
Someone with dark features, a deep growl. Someone who can throw me around like the piece of shit I am and make me submit.
Someone who can fucking punish me.
Anger over my former lover mingles with my need for release. I prefer to do this high, but Lou didn’t leave me much time to piss around before we left, which I’m sure was his intent. He needed me sober for this interview.
I thrust my cock into the back of her throat and she gags, the sound spurring me into release, and I curse as I slam myself into her mouth, filling her with my cum, just as Lou opens the damn door.
“Jesus Christ, Felix,” he growls as the woman chokes and sputters.
I barely have my cock out before he’s helping her up.
“I’m so sorry about this, Miss,” Lou says as he helps her up. She wipes her lips on the back of her hand, her cheeks still red.
“It’s nothing, I promise. I’m fine.”
Lou glares at me as I stuff my cock back in my pants, zip up, and proceed to head to my gift basket full of snacks.
“I’ll just... um... it was really nice meeting you, Felix,” she says with that unmistakable adoration that’s sold me millions of records.
“Uh huh,” I answer, giving her my back. The longer she stays here the worse I’ll feel, and I want to keep my momentary buzz.
The door shuts a moment later, and Lou sighs heavily.
“Did you even bother to learn her name first?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“What’s the point? It’s not like it matters.” I pop open a bag of Doritos.
“Everything you do matters, Felix. I’ve told you, we need to maintain your image as...”
“As what? A goody fucking two-shoes? Some poser ass rockstar who sings about shit he doesn’t actually do? You should be fucking thanking me, I did you and the label a favor.”
Lou’s face turns cherry red.
“Excuse me?”
“Fucking Karen was practically insinuating Sully and I were fuck buddies, which we were. But I’m not allowed to say shit about sucking dick because the label has their panties in a fucking bunch. Which is why if I stuffed my cock down Slutty Susie’s throat, she’d go tell all her little friends and anyone who’ll listen that she sucked my cock. That I demanded her to make me cum,” I bite. “And suddenly, no one’s thinking about Sully and Me. Ticket sales go up.”
Lou sighs, rubbing his jaw.
“Felix...”
“Besides, isn’t that what’s best for the fucking label? It’s not like anyone gives a shit about what I want, and you don’t care about Sully, period. You replaced him barely twenty-four hours after he walked out.”
Lou doesn’t respond, which only confirms my suspicion. I’d only been notified of one audition, and Lou didn’t say he had any others lined up this morning.
I might not be the smartest crayon in the fucking box, but I know Lou, and I know he’d want this all tied up as neatly as possible as soon as fucking possible.
“You don’t need, Sully,” he says carefully.
“Yeah, apparently I need a washed up drummer from the fucking eighties instead.”
Lou’s hand wraps around my throat so fast, I drop my bag of Doritos.
“You listen here, you little shit. I know you’re upset, I know you’re licking your fucking wounds because Sully got your briefs in a fucking twist. But you will never speak of one of the greatest drummers of our time, and my friend like that.”
Lou throws me up against the wall, which makes me shake, knocking over several bags of chips on the floor.
“You need Duncan McKay to keep your fucking tour in tact. You need your tour to be successful, or the label will consider dropping you, because you are a piece of trash that has been riding on his looks and his attitude way too fucking long.”
My throat tightens as my stomach twists. I can feel the anger ebbing, boiling with something else.
Shame.
God, I need a fucking drink.
“Now, stop acting like a damn bitch, and get your shit together,” he says as he drops me.
I slide my hand around my throat, trying to rub away the pain, the tickle that makes me want to choke on a sob.
I say nothing as he slams the door in my face.
The pain, the loathing, and the guilt rear their ugly head. It’s like no matter what I do, I can’t escape the truth.
Lou is right.
I am a piece of shit, and no matter what I do, I will never be enough.