Chapter 2
TWO
Cameron and I chat up different girls. Eventually we bump into Oscar, who has a girl hanging onto his arm. I continue to drink myself stupid as the idea of leaving with any of the girls seems unnecessary when there are plenty of empty rooms.
I sneak off with two different girls throughout the night.
I fuck one in a tub big enough for the both of us. She will surely brag to her friends about the job I did with limited room. I let her put her number in my phone even though I have no plans of ever calling her. I made it clear it was just a hookup, but some girls never heed my warnings.
I fuck the second one in a bedroom upstairs.
We leave the blankets disheveled, not bothering to make up the bed when we are done. I toss my used condom in a drawer on the side table as she fixes her makeup using the mirror on the dresser. This isn’t my house, nor am I responsible for renting the place, so the mess is the least of my concerns.
She invites me back to her place for round two, but I know that will just lead to her wanting to have breakfast with me. That is not something I want to deal with, so I politely decline and join back up with Cameron and Oscar.
Cameron silently tracks some girl throughout the night. He is trying to play it off, but I’ve seen that look far too many times. The way the eyes zero in on someone. It’s a dead giveaway that a guy has the hots for a girl.
I have no idea who she is to him, but he watches with fascination as she dances with other guys, while drinking like a fish. I don’t bother pointing it out. We aren’t friends, though if we were, I’d tell him not to waste his time.
That girl is wild, and he is trying to make it big. He does not need her getting in the way of his dreams.
His sister, Prue, comes up to us from time to time. Asking how much longer he plans on staying. He suggests she gets herself a ride home, but she always says no. I guess sticking around to bug her brother is more fun than going home alone.
It’s mildly annoying, but I don’t address it.
Whatever hard time she is having has apparently earned her the right to interfere in Cameron’s fun.
I don’t know their family dynamics well enough to know if that’s fair or not.
Being an only child has gifted me the ability to never have to care about someone else.
Of course, over the years Wes has become more like a brother to me than a friend.
I’m pretty sure my parents liked him more than me.
He did a better job of comforting my mother after my father died than I did.
I’m pretty sure he talks to her more often too.
I know for a fact they have breakfast at least once a month.
My mom is just crazy about Abbey Dark. I figure she thinks if they get married, she may actually have a chance of being a grandmother, maybe not by blood, but Wes would give her that title over his own mother any day.
That’s not happening, though. Abbey would not do well being pregnant, and I do not plan on having kids myself, so she is going to be robbed of that chance.
I’d feel bad, but as my mother, she has come to expect disappointment. I try not to lose sleep over it anymore. She stopped trying to change me or raise me at an early age. Instead, my saint of a mother has taken to offering me forgiveness that I don’t ask for, and acceptance I don’t deserve.
She offers the same things to Wes, and he eats it up. His home life was not great, and every chance he had, he was at my house enjoying the comforts two loving parents could give. What I didn’t want, he did, and it worked out for the both of us.
He got a family, and I got the burden of being a good child off my back. Plus, we both got each other. A win for everyone.
So, I try to ignore Cameron’s needy sister when she comes around, because just like my family isn’t typical, I can only assume theirs isn’t either. Even though it is becoming increasingly obvious, they are well off.
In fact, most of these people seem to come from wealthy families. I overhear conversations about cruises and trips on yachts. Vacation houses and travel plans are all these people care about. That, and designer clothes.
Still, I’m having a decent night. While some of them are rich, none were necessarily famous. They were the outcasts of the elite, the wannabe rock stars among the soon-to-be lawyers and doctors. I am a big fish, and this is a small pond.
That doesn’t seem to faze them, though. They are happy to see me, but they don’t trip over themselves to try to get my attention. I get shown respect and admiration, but they treat me like I’m one of them.
It’s been far too long since I felt like I belonged somewhere. It’s almost sad that I feel more at home with these people I barely know than I have with my band lately.
Oddly, in the larger scene, I’ve been feeling a little lost. It’s hard when you get to the top. You never know who you can trust. Everyone is out to find a way to steal the spotlight. Jealousy runs rampant among the top dogs. You either bite or get chewed on.
Despite constantly touring with other bands, I haven’t made nearly as many friends as you’d expect. As a band, we learned early on to only trust each other. We are nice enough to the other bands in the scene and on the label, but we don’t consider them friends.
Now, as we all start to get older, our lives are starting to go in different directions. They are forming other relationships. Starting to think about the distant future. Making plans to better their lives while I’m just floating by.
I miss the days in the beginning when we were just stupid kids. There was no future, just the present. We’d waste our time doing stupid shit. Getting drunk. Tattooing our bodies. Living life to the fullest, with no thoughts about what tomorrow would bring.
Even then I was the odd man out. I knew early on that Dennis, Arron, and Nicolas didn’t care about me the same way Wes did.
They put up with me because of Wes. Over the years they grew to like me, but if it came down to it, they would easily cast me to the side to save their own skin.
I could only count on them so much. They’d back me in a fight, but they wouldn’t lay down their lives for me.
We are a family, but a family with limits. And those limits are starting to be tested.
I am starting to become a loose end for them to tie up.
One day, probably soon, they will ditch me and move on with their lives. I’ll become an abandoned has-been.
It’s extremely pathetic to think about.
“Hey,” Cameron says into my ear. “I’m going to disappear for a bit. If you see Prue, can you let her know I didn’t leave without her?”
I nod as he slinks off with a pretty girl.
I have no plans of running into the fun sucker. Doesn’t matter how hot she is, needy girls are not worth the headache.
Wandering my way through the crowd in desperate need of a cigarette and a moment of silence, I actively try not to spot Prue among the people.
I’m hoping the fresh air will help me sober up a little. The low feelings are starting to make my mood dip, and I’m bound to do something stupid if I don’t regain a sense of sobriety.
Glancing through a window, I find a tiny corner of the front porch not overflowing with people and make my way there.
Once outside, I let the cool winter air hit me. Glancing off to the side for a moment, I notice the short light brown hair that has been plaguing me all night.
Prue sits on the ledge of the porch. Her legs dangle over the railing, and the bottle of vodka from earlier sits to the side of her. Barely anything is gone from it, which isn’t surprising. She doesn’t seem like the type to let herself have any fun or get drunk.
I sigh softly, hoping she doesn’t hear me. Pulling out a cigarette, I light it carefully. I don’t need her bothering me, asking where Cameron is. I’d deliver the message, but I’m not in the mood to deal with any kind of bullshit tonight. Not even from a sexy girl.
Judging by the bruise on her face and the things Cameron has said about her, I just know letting myself get involved would lead to an altercation.
It’s not in my nature to be okay with people being abused.
While fist fights are a thing of my past, I’d easily kick the ass of whoever hurt her.
But you can’t fight with your hands when you need them to play guitar for a living, so I try to avoid getting myself into those situations these days.
The sound of my lighter attracts her attention, though. Her head whips in my direction for a moment. Eyes scanning over me, before turning forward again. She wipes at the corner of her eyes. It’s a dick move not to check on her, but I don’t move, inhaling on my cigarette instead.
Silence surrounds us for a moment. Just the sound of me smoking and the sad vibes radiating off her fill the air.
Cursing under my breath, I take a step in her direction.
“Cameron wanted me to let you know he didn’t leave without you.”
“Good to know.” Her voice is full of annoyance.
I’m not nearly sober enough to deal with her attitude. Despite the loneliness that is creeping up on me, I’ve been having a good night. I’m not about to let her ruin it. I don’t care what she has been through. She has no right to bring everyone down with her.
“You can’t fault the guy for wanting to have a good night.”
“I don’t,” she snaps, her head turning back to me.
“Good.”
“Do you come to these parties to feel better about yourself?”
“What?” I almost laugh at the question.
I have no idea who she thinks she is, but crying or not, I’m not putting up with crap from anyone. Ever. Did enough of that through my youth. No way am I doing it with some girl I barely know.
Even if she is clearly nearing a total mental breakdown. And wearing a very short skirt.
“Do you hang out with the smaller bands so you can show off what a big shot you are?”
“No.” I chuckle. It’s not every day a girl insults me back.