3. Blake – “Love is friendship set to music”-Jackson Pollock
3
Blake
“Love is friendship set to music”-Jackson Pollock
Abigail had the voice of a freaking angel.
I will fly away before they break me. Take me. I don’t know where my soul is. But I won’t let them break me, take me. I will never give up. Never give up. Never give up on me.
I listened to the song we recorded three nights ago for what felt like the 100th time. I couldn’t get enough of her voice or words. That timid girl dies, and It’s like a whole new person came to life when she sang.
Brooks, Duke, Edison, and I were broken kids who found each other four years ago and created our band, the Fallen Angels, but now Abigail made it feel complete.
Brooks played the drums, and Duke and Edison were the bassists. Duke not only could play the guitar, but he was the one who made us sound awesome when he worked his magic behind the scenes at his studio. His parents were wealthy, so they bought him everything he needed to pursue his music career. My dad, on the other hand, thought I was wasting my time. He wanted me to follow in my beloved bro’s footsteps and work hard to become a football player. I was built like all the Killian men in my family, tall and good-looking, but I wasn’t an athlete; I don’t know how Abigail nailed it on the head, but I liked to escape, and music was my way of getting lost. There is something about music that makes you lose yourself. It’s almost as good as drugs, almost.
I look over at my phone and see a text from Abigail.
Hey, I just made up a new chorus on the violin. It’s pretty badass!
You just came up with it?
You haven’t met my cousins. They take forever to get ready.
Well, their lack of time comes in handy then.
Lol. My sister is driving me. Would it be cool if she and my cousins hung out with us? She is my ride since I don't have a car.
Abs, I told you I can bring you home.
Um, you will be intoxicated by the time I get there? Besides, my parents are forcing my sister to come and keep an eye on me, so she may not be in the best mood. This is just a heads-up.
No worries, we’ll have plenty of time to cheer her up—winky face.
Good, she needs it. Lol
Abigail and I have become somewhat friends over the past couple of weeks. We don’t talk much; we mostly play or listen to music, so I figured a party would be necessary to get to know one another. How else can we grow as a band if we aren’t in sync with our thoughts and souls?
The more, the merrier. I dig orgies, by the way.
Angry emoji face.
I know she mentioned she had a ton of cousins, but I wasn’t sure how much older they were than her. She said they grew up together but grew apart once she turned fifteen since they would start college soon, plus she said they all had boyfriends. She also had an older sister who isn’t boy-crazy like her cousins. She said her sister is a little cooler, but we’ll see about that.
As I finished getting ready, my phone rang. When I looked at the screen to see who it was, I ignored it. I know Colt wanted to talk about what happened this morning, but he doesn't want me to have a relationship with my dad. It’s bad enough my mom didn’t want anything to do with me, now he wants Dad all to himself.
Fuck him.
He could have football all to himself, but he needed to share with Dad. I could care less about that damn sport anyway. All Colt tells me to do is practice, eat, work out, and make sure I do my homework. It’s easy for him to say. He likes doing that shit. I don't. I enjoy creating music.
Besides, he’s built for football. I’m not. He’s solid and thick, naturally. Everyone I met always asked me if he took steroids. Sometimes, I wanted to say yes just to taint his perfect reputation, but I figured, what’s the point? Everyone already thought he was a God. And you can’t bring someone down who’s already that high up on a pedestal. But when I take the stuff my dad gives me, it’s like I want to run, fight, and lift weights. It’s like cocaine but ten times more potent. And it makes me horney as fuck. My hormones are already raging as is, but this stuff makes me want to fuck all night. I know Abigail is a virgin, so I’ll have to drink to help numb my urge, but man, all I can hope is she shows up in some nerdy clothing like she always does.
My phone rings again. I curse into the air and pick it up so he won’t call me all night.
“What?” I say with agitation.
“Are you using?” Colt says.
“Well, hello to you too, brother.”
“I’m serious, Blake; I hope you aren't using, not after you almost died.”
“ I figured you would be happy, so you no longer have to worry about babysitting me.”
“Blake, stop. That’s not true. I wouldn’t be calling if that was the case. I know Dad is out of town, and I’m not home this weekend, so you think it’s okay to do what you want.”
“Isn’t that what being a teenager is all about? And it’s good to know it took my heart to stop for you to give a shit?”
“Fuck!” he shouts into the phone. “That’s not fair, Blake, cut me some slack. I’m doing the best I can. I was dealt a shitty hand too. He’s both our dad’s, but I’m just trying to make the best of it, and every time I talked to Dad, he acted like we were doing great and told me you are starting to like football now.”
“Ya, I am. Thanks to a little help.” Called drugs.
“What does that mean?”
“I got to go. Anything else?” I say, losing my patience with this conversation each passing second,
“Blake, I’m serious. If I find out that you’re using the money I give you to buy drugs, I’m not going to help out anymore. I know how dad can be, and I’m trying to talk to him, and if you listen to me for once in your life, listen to his bullshit until your eighteen, you can be home free and play the fucking banjo or whatever your heart desires.”
“Oh ya, because that would make you look more like a hero than you already are, wouldn’t it, Colt?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know what you mean. I have to go. I’m having a friend come over. And don’t worry—the precious house will be fine, and I’m not using.” I ended the call without saying goodbye.
I looked down at my phone and was over the fight this morning. I know he would have made it here if he could since he missed my birthday, but I was just over it all. If Colt wanted to act like our dad was a monster to cover up his fuck up’s, that’s fine; dad has never laid a hand on me, so I found it hard to believe dad had anger issues, but then again, I barely knew my dad. I was just getting to know him, which was a slow moving train since Cliff spends all his free time with this new girlfriend of his. He has to since she pays for everything. But this also meant I was out of the picture. She and her new kids were his priority. Technically, my brother was the only one I had to confide in, but I was too angry to confide in anyone right now. Anyone except Abigail, and she didn’t just listen, she empathized with me. She knew exactly how it felt to be second best in your family. To feel invisible. Even though I didn’t understand why the monsters she called family, made her feel that way. Abigail may have an eating disorder, but she wasn’t impure—--Toxic like me.
I walk downstairs, and the front door opens when my foot hits the floor.
“Yo, what up,” Brooks says as he walks through the door. Duke and Edison follow right behind him. “Let’s get lit tonight!” Duke says as he raises his hands in the air.
“Where are the goods at, bro?” Edison asks as he opens my refrigerator door. “I only have beer and vodka; I’m not using, remember, hospital or rehab?”
“Really? Tell me Blake, did those biceps just form overnight?” Brooks smirks, squeezing one of my arms.
“Shut up, And you know how my dad wants me to go pro, so I have to get serious about playing football.” Even though I hated every second of it, if I didn’t take it seriously, I would be considered a failure in the family. I wanted to say fuck it, but when I witnessed how my dad and Colt bonded over the sport, it made me wonder what it would be like to have a piece of that connection too.
“So, who’s all coming?” Edison asks, popping open a beer.
“I invited Abigail, and she has some cousins she’s bringing. And her sister.”
“Nice,” Duke elongates the vowels as he opens a beer. “I need to get some action. My girl is such a prude it’s almost unbearable.”
“She said they have boyfriends, so don’t get too excited,” I say, walking over to the kitchen and grabbing a beer.
“And your point?” Duke says with an evil grin. He takes the beer from my hand and takes a swig before handing it back to me. Edison and Brooks plop on the couch. Duke joins them and takes out a white bag.
“Okay, time for some Brittany Spears.”
I stare at it from across the room, wanting nothing more than to do one line. Take the edge off, but I can’t. I shouldn’t even be drinking. I’m such a lightweight after having my system cleaned, it won’t take much for me to get drunk. It’s why I’m sticking only to beer tonight.
Fifteen minutes later, a few more people from high school showed up, along with some chicks they brought. I looked down and saw that I had a missed call and text message from Abigail.
We’re here.
My heart starts racing, and I’m not sure why I’m this excited to see her, given that I see her every day at school, but I jump up and quickly walk to the door. When I opened it, Abigail stood next to two tall girls and a shorter one, whom I immediately pegged as her sister.
“Hey,” She says in a low tone, then looks over to the girls as if she’s expecting some reaction from me, like I should care what they look like.
“Ladies, welcome.” I open the door wider and gesture for them to come inside.
“Dang. We didn’t know you’d been hanging out with the rich kids.” One of the girls says as they step inside.
“Ya, my dad finally stopped messing with the broke bitches, woke up, and landed a doctor this time,” I say jokingly. Even though my dad’s new girlfriend was indeed a doctor, the real joke was that it wouldn’t last longer than a year. Tops. For all my life, I have never known my dad to be single.
“Doctor, huh? Is your dad one, too?” the blonde, busty girl with a big mouth says. I can’t believe these girls were Abigail's cousins—not because of how different they looked from her but because of how shallow they were compared to her.
“No, he’s just a narcissist.” I motion to my friends on the couch. “Guys, this is Abigail and her friends.” I looked over at Abigail to help me out since she hadn’t told me their names.
“Jenna, Naomi, and Adalee.”
“I’m her sister,” Adalee says as if it’s not noticeable since they are shorter than the other girls. But Adalee is a little taller than Abigail.
“Where are your men at?” Duke shouts from the living room. The girl's eyes go wide from his bluntness.
“Right here,” a tall, lanky guy says as he walks to my front porch. Once he steps inside, he places an arm around Naomi’s shoulders. “Jake,” he says as he looks over at me. “Nice place ya got here.” Two more guys appear from behind them. I’m assuming they parked a few houses down since my dad’s car driveway was full.
“Hey babe,” a Middle Eastern guy says, leaning down to kiss Adalee. Another huge, tall guy stands beside Jenna.
“Jordan,” the guy standing next to Jenna says as he reaches his arm out to shake my hand.
“Blake, nice to meet ya.” I’m the first one to break the handshake.
“And this is Ahad,” Adalee says.
“Nice to meet you, man.” We shake hands.
“Come in, guys. Make yourselves at home. We have beer, vodka, and those spritzer things if you girls are thirsty,” I tell them, swinging a hand toward the kitchen.
“Yummy, are they the fruity kind?” Adalee asks. “I’m not sure. My Dad's girlfriend buys them, so I’m sure they are.”
The girls walk to the kitchen, and the guys start flocking towards them immediately.
“You want a drink,” I say, tipping my beer at Abigail.
“No, I’m fine.”
I give her a look.
“For now, maybe in a little bit.” She adds before narrowing her eyes on me. “Should you be drinking?”
“It’s a beer. It’s just flavored water.” I take a small sip before saying, “come on, let's go talk shit to the crew.”
I walk toward where our friends sat, Abigail following behind me, and we all immediately started talking about music. I felt completely in my element around Abigail. So much so, it was hard not to feel like we are more than friends around her. It feels like I’ve known her for years, but I wasn’t sure how Abigail felt. She was so quiet, especially around big crowds, that it was nearly impossible for me to read her.
“No way. I still like how Blake did that intro and how Abigail brings it in with that chorus. That was fire, bro,” Brooks says.
“You mean this one,” Abigail starts singing, moving her fingers to imitate the beat accompanying her voice.
Edison laughs excitedly, Duke bites his knuckles, and Brooks jumps up. They all do this at the same time.
“That’s it! That’s fucking gold right there. And then when Edison and Blake come in with the bass and guitar, that’s the fucking jackpot right there, baby! That song is the one we should lead with when we present it to a music agent.” Brooks says.
“Aww, is this your friend from Orchestra?” Jenna asks as she approaches us in the living room.
“They aren’t in my Orchestra class, we all just like making music,” Abigail says, looking away quickly.
“That’s adorable.,” Jenna says, sitting across from us. “Abigail has always been creative, so seeing her thrive where she’s comfortable is like a dream come true.”
The tone of our conversation was too early to know if she was being genuine or putting on a front,
. “We all think she has a brilliant voice, but the music business is cutthroat. You have to not only play the part but look the part too because you are in the public eye.” She huffs out a haughty laugh. “Which means you have to be easy on others' eyes.”
Some of the guys snicker with Jenna, but I don’t. I just studied Abigail's behavior. She doesn’t say anything. She barely moves, and for a second, I wonder if she’s breathing.
“Ya, but now that Abigail has lost weight, the camera would love her.” Jordan, Jenna’s boyfriend, says as if Abigail isn’t even in the room.
“I know, and if I could just bash each cheek in with my fist, you would be perfect,” Ahad, Adalee’s boyfriend, says. “The camera loves that high cheekbone look.”
I flinch at the disgusting words being spoken about Abigail. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and the thought that Abigail was so used to this type of talk around her made my stomach weezy, and the only thing I could do was swallow hard to keep the contents of my dinner from coming up.
“Jenna took me to their house once. I met their parents. She looks somewhat like her mom, but not really. It’s crazy that you don’t look like your sister or cousins.” Jordan adds.
“Ya, genes are crazy,” Abigail says defiantly. I see Abigail's eyes tear up before she sucks in a breath.
“I don’t think the sunken-in cheekbones are the most attractive look. I like my chics to look alive and healthy, not like death,” I say, hoping to make Ahad feel like a dumbass.
“I’m going to go get a drink and use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” Abigail gets up and passes by me. Her knee grazes mine. These were her family’s boyfriends? How could they let those scumbags talk to Abigail that way? That’s not sticking up for your family, that’s utter fucking bullshit. Why are they even with these guys? They are complete douchebags. How could they allow those guys to talk to her like that? She’s younger than them, sure, but that should make them want to defend her even more. Jerks . My knee starts bouncing up and down. I don’t get up right away, but after a few minutes, when everyone is lost in conversation, I get up from the couch and search for Abigail.
I go to the guest bathroom because I’m confident she didn’t get a drink on her way there. When I reach the door, I stand beside it. The toilet flushes and shortly after I hear the faucet running. After about a minute, I whip my phone out to see how much time has passed. The water continues to run, when I finally realize she’s probably in there crying.
What assholes. I ought to go back there and punch them in their faces . And drag her prissy ass family out by their hair. I can’t believe those guys said everything in front of her like she didn’t even exist. Abigail may appear nerdy on the outside with her frizzy, curly hair, but to me, she doesn’t give herself any love and attention, not the kind her sisters and cousins do. Anyone can look good if they groom themselves for hours a day. I wait for what feels like forever, and finally, I hear her turn the faucet off.
A few seconds pass, and she swings the door open the sme time I lift myself off the wall.
“Jesus,” she whisper-shouts, placing a hand on her chest. “Blake, you scared me.” Her eyes were wide, “Aren’t there three other bathrooms you could use?” She says with a shaky voice.
I want to ease her tension so I grab her hand and say, “C’mon, I want to show you something.”
Abigail has been to my house before but never in my room. We usually hang out in the garage, and the guys order pizza. I bring water for everyone from the fridge. Since my dad’s girlfriend is an ER doctor, she’s rarely ever home at night, and my dad typically goes out when she’s gone at night and comes back smelling like alcohol. My brother came home every other weekend, sometimes less since Oklahoma University was over a two-hour drive from the city.
This new girlfriend of my dad's had kids, but they were living with their dad full-time or doing extracurricular activities. My dad hasn’t told me much about the kids. Even if he did, I wouldn't pay much attention. I thought it was bullshit. He had kids; why did he want to be with a woman with kids when he barely took care of his own?
“You’re room?” Abigail asks, breaking my train of thought as we approach my door.
“Ya, and it’s not to seduce you, even though you admitted I am quite the seductress the first day we met.” I wink at her, and her prominent cheeks turn a darker shade of pink. But she plays it off, rolling her eyes at me. “I said Scorpios do, specifically Scorpio 2’s.”
“There are different categories of each zodiac?” I ask, my hand frozen in place on the knob.
“You could say that.”
“Wow, you like to complicate things, don’t you?” When I opened the door, Abigail nearly gasped. My room was more of a museum of old rock' n' roll than an ordinary bedroom. I had old records that my mom used to keep stacked along my bed with my super expensive guitar collection along side the bottom of my wall.. I had posters of all the classic legends: Elvis Presley, The Rolling Stones, Nirvana, Elton Johns, Les Zeppelin, and many more.
“Oh my God, is that a real record player?” Abigail strides over to my nightstand. I can’t believe she’s in my room right now, standing next to my bed. Not that I haven’t had girls in my room before, but Abigail Asher was different.
“It’s the real deal, baby,” I say, closing the door behind me.
She touches the tall mountain of records like a delicate child. Not an eminent object.
“My mom told me Dad used to come into the music shop where she worked in the 1970s. Her parents owned the music shop, so my grandparents let her work there to help out. My dad used to come in and buy records and give them to her. He wanted her to have her own music to take home, which was how they started talking.
“That’s so sweet. What did she like to listen to?” She runs a hand along the base of the record player.
“She loved the Beatles, Queen, Elton John, Fleetwood Mac, and Pink Floyd. Guess that’s where I get it from. I grew up listening to it until…” I trail off, and turn my gaze to the floor, remembering the song playing in her room when I found my mom passed out. I wasn’t old enough to register what was wrong with her right then and there since I was only eight, but now that I’m older, I know exactly why my mom wasn’t waking up when I shook her repeatedly.
I watch Abigail walk over to me. She places a hand on my shoulder. Forcing me to look into those jungle eyes.
“You aren’t her,” she says as our eyes flicker back and forth when mine naturally drop down to her perfectly shaped lips. I stare back at her and take in her luscious, dark curly mane. She stands out in such a way it’s hard not to notice her beauty. I don't know why she doesn’t think she’s pretty. I mean, how is it possible that this sweet, innocent girl gets bullied by her own family? I take another step closer, and her eyes go wide.
“And you aren’t your family. You’re better than them.”
She parts her mouth slightly, and I’m not sure what is happening between us since we’ve been nothing but friends this whole time, but I want to kiss her. I feel my dick twitch which shocks me since that rarely happens, since it takes a whole lot more than a pair of pretty lips to make it wake up. I place a hand on her waist, and I’m about to pull her into me when my bedroom door swings open.