Chapter 3
After that, my emotions were all over the fucking place.
As Clara’s Dolls hauled their equipment down the hallway, my rollercoaster night hit me: I’d played to an awesome crowd, got a little heated with a cute guy (a man whose last name I didn’t know and whose number I didn’t possess), and I’d missed a face-to-face meeting with an amazing—and famous—band.
At the time, my disappointment overwhelmed me the more I thought about it, but I didn’t stop to realize that I would meet more bands as time went on (including Fully Automatic), and some, on occasion, would be just as famous as the ones I’d missed chatting with.
As I saw the bassist from Clara’s Dolls walking down the hall toward me to where their dressing room was, all that other shit fell to the wayside. Here was my chance to establish a connection with a sister, and then we wouldn’t have to feel as alone out here.
She held her bass like I’d hold a wallet, the shaft in one hand by her side.
Her blonde hair with bright pink tips was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, dark makeup causing her eyes to look sunken, but her curved biceps would put many a young man to shame.
She wore shredded jeans and a red tank top that emphasized her thin body, but it was her attitude that I admired the most. I could feel her hard edges from yards away.
“Hey, great show,” I said as she got closer.
But she didn’t say a word. In fact, she barely took the time to look at me, but she finally glanced as she walked past. Her eyes scanned down my body before making contact with mine, and all I could feel was cold.
Haughty. Rude. Nasty.
What the hell did I ever do to her?
Her attitude shut my mouth down. I had no response. Braden whispered in my ear, “She’s just jealous, Dani.”
Why would she be jealous of me? I didn’t think that was true, but I had a lot of emotions to process—and those guaranteed I’d likely have another sleepless night.
As I’d suspected, I had a hard time sleeping.
It was more than just thinking of Fully Automatic and our chance at fame or being looked down upon by the bass player of Clara’s Dolls.
It was far more—and I realized, after dreaming more than once about almost engaging in sex, I questioned why I hadn’t gone all the way with Danny.
Even though we’d been interrupted, I hadn’t had to answer my phone and I definitely didn’t need to leave the warmth of his arms.
In the grand scheme of things, did it matter? He hadn’t asked for my number, so the chances of seeing him again were slim. Because he’d blown me off at the end, I decided to be glad I hadn’t had sex with him.
But he’d focused my mind on the act and my deep desires—and I knew there were plenty of good-looking guys out there. Surely, a few of them wouldn’t mind getting a little cozy with me.
In fact, I was counting on it. Next time, though, I’d go farther.
So even though I was tired when I got out of bed the next morning, I felt happy—satisfied, even—for the first time in a long time. Maybe I couldn’t have Zack, but I could have the next best thing.
After showering, I meandered to the kitchen.
I needed a cup or two of coffee before pounding the pavements to look for work again.
With the Christmas season in full swing, no one seemed willing to hire someone like me, especially with such a shitty (and spotty) work history.
Still, I had to try. I definitely wouldn’t get a job by not looking.
Zack sat at the table with his laptop, typing away.
I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I knew that meant I’d be taking my coffee to my room and nursing it while I blow dried my hair because I still wasn’t speaking to him.
I didn’t get far, though, because Zack called me before I walked into the hallway. “Hey, Dani. Got a minute?”
I felt my lips curl downward but I tried to relax them before I turned around. I didn’t want him to know how much I despised him right now. “Sure. What?”
“Braden told me you snuck off last night with a guy you didn’t know.”
Although I started to bristle, I kept my voice calm. “So?”
“So what the hell were you thinking? You didn’t tell anyone before you left. What if the guy was a rapist or kidnapper or some shit? Not knowing where you were or who you were with, anything could have happened to you and we wouldn’t have been able to save you.”
“I don’t need saving, Zack. And I’m not an idiot. He was fine.”
“That’s what women said about Ted Bundy.”
“Who the hell’s Ted Bundy?”
“Are you kidding? You need to do some research. That’s fucking dangerous. I’m not…I’m not saying you can’t have some fun. Just be smart about it.”
The air in my lungs leaked out through my mouth, leaving me with no will to argue.
Ultimately, I knew Zack was right, but I was pissed that he was.
It wasn’t his business what I did—unless he wanted to claim me for his own, which I could tell by this conversation that he did not.
And, knowing that, I didn’t want to take his advice.
So, even though I planned to look up this guy Bundy and I would try to be safer, I didn’t want to give Zack the satisfaction of being right. “Whatever.”
“Seriously, Dani.”
“I’m not fucking stupid, Zack.” With that, I made my way to my room. I didn’t stomp or storm but I also didn’t waste time leaving the kitchen. I wanted to send a message to Zack that his advice wasn’t welcome.
I needed to focus on looking for work—but it was hard to concentrate when I’d let Zack’s words get to me. I needed to work on that as well. But my heart was too wrapped around him to be able to not give a fuck.
A few days later, Braden must have been feeling sorry for me, because he offered to let me use his new laptop to apply for jobs online instead of pounding the pavement or filling out applications on my phone.
All the guys had managed to save enough money to get a laptop, and I needed to hold a job long enough to do that too.
In the meantime, Braden said, “It’s faster that way, Dani. And I don’t care if you use it.”
I wasn’t arguing that it would be far easier.
Besides, it was too damn cold to walk anywhere and my car was almost out of gas.
So I’d made it my goal to look for work constantly and apply for anything I seemed qualified for until I had a job.
Using Braden’s computer made it so much faster.
It was a great reminder that Braden was a sweet guy.
That Saturday, we had another show, the fourth in a row, and I was tired, but I’d still made sure I got out of bed by ten that morning.
By the afternoon, I’d applied for five jobs and found three more I was considering.
Zack and Braden left for a while, coming back with a thirty-two inch TV.
As evening approached, my neck hurt and my fingers were stiff, but I had to finish one more job application to meet my day’s goal.
The guys had the TV hooked up and realized rather quickly that we didn’t have much to watch on it.
Zack was not to be deterred, however. “I’m gonna get a Netflix or Hulu subscription but, before then, we can watch some of the free sites on this menu. ”
Cy got home from work just as Zack was pulling up a music video. “What time are we leaving for the show?”
“Seven. Our show doesn’t start till ten.”
“Why that late?”
“I didn’t ask. They know their customers better than we do, so we’ll just have to trust ‘em.” I heard a clicking sound coming from the television as Zack perused the menu. “In the meantime, I want to watch some metal chicks to get me warmed up.”
What the hell did that even mean?
I clicked submit to send my last application of the evening and then closed the browser window. “Want me to shut down your computer, Braden?”
“Yeah, sure.” But his eyes were glued to the television screen, and he hadn’t even looked toward me.
What the hell were they watching? When I got up from the table, I stretched my neck and then made my way into the living room to see what the fuss was all about.
I could hear a commercial but Zack clicked away from it by the time I moved so I could see the TV screen.
But he had clicked to another music video.
It started with a heavy guitar riff and the camera focused on a guy with long brown hair banging his head.
Soon the lens’ gaze shifted to a vocalist, a man with equally long hair but a full beard, and he was whipping his head in a circle to the music.
So far, it seemed like a typical rock video.
Then the scene changed to two women outside, walking down the street, both with a typical rocker chick look: long hair, a tortured look disguised by raccoon eye makeup, black leather and silver jewelry, some tattoos and piercings.
As the camera pulled back, though, it was quite pointed in focusing on flesh—the bare midriff as the woman circled her hips, followed by her cleavage and then a finger in her mouth as she gave the camera a fuck me glance.
Cy said, “They don’t make ‘em like they used to.”
“What?” I spat out before I could stop my reaction. “Women?”
“No. Videos.”
My voice came out flat. “With slutty women?”
“Well…yeah.”
“Bullshit.” When Zack and I had had our metal awakening, I’d watched hundreds of music videos, and I knew better. “They still make videos that exploit women. Have you ever seen Mastodon’s video for ‘The Motherload’?”
Zack sat up. “Which one is that?”
“It’s that gross one where the women are shaking their asses all through it.”
Meanwhile, Cy had taken the remote and had already found it and started playing it. “I haven’t seen that one.”
Zack asked, “Why do you have such a problem with it?”
Braden looked like he wanted to shrink into the couch. Here they go again.
“They’re sexually exploiting women—like we’re nothing more than sex objects, there for visual pleasure.”