Limelight (4 page)

Six Months Later

S
ix months after Tara's inception into the band, Victim Unknown played a show in Florida.  Layla gave a great performance, fueled by anger, as her shows always were by then.  After the limelight faded to black and the curtains swung closed, separating them from the screaming crowd, Layla stalked off stage to put away her instrument and head to the dressing room to change.  Once in the dressing room, she glimpsed herself in the mirror and noticed something missing.

It was a diamond necklace Seth had given her on their third wedding anniversary.  She never took it off; yet she saw her neck was bare.  "Damn it!" Layla griped, her hand fluttering around her naked neck.  Tears instantly sprang to her eyes.  Despite her roller coaster of emotions of late, losing that necklace was heartbreaking.  She dropped her guitar case on the couch, and then spun to return to the stage to check if the necklace had fallen there.

She made her way through rows of heavy black curtains backstage, hanging from the catwalks far above her head, tears streaming down her face.  The sound of Seth's voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Come on, baby," he purred.

She strained to see in the darkness back stage.  It was mostly quiet back there as the crew was still on stage tearing down Victim Unknown's equipment.  A lump formed in her throat and heat rose to her cheeks as she saw Seth hidden within the folds of the backstage curtains with his arm around Tara's waist.  From her vantage point, Layla was also hidden by curtains.  She could see them but they could not see her.  She noted that Tara squirmed within Seth's grasp.

"I'll tell Layla I'm clubbing tonight and we can go back to your room," he crooned.

Layla opened her mouth to make herself known, but stopped short when Tara gave Seth a violent shove, sending him reeling backwards.

"Listen, you piece of shit.  I don't know how many times I have to politely punk your dumb ass out, but you just DON'T get it! So I'm not gonna be so polite this time.  I. Am. Not. Interested.  You are MARRIED.  To a hell of a woman.  And even if you weren't," she chuckled.  "Well, Seth…  You'd still be a douche.  So do me a fucking favor, and back off.  Got it?"

Tara withered him with angry eyes for a tense moment.  Then she turned and retreated, the heavy curtains swallowing her as though she'd never been there at all.  Layla stood stalk still, not even daring to breath.  Seth's face revealed pure rage.  She couldn't pull her eyes off him, until finally he stormed off, and disappeared into the curtains as well.

Layla rushed back to the dressing room without going to look for her necklace.

One Week Later

A
week later found Victim Unknown in a hotel in New York after a show.  Layla invited the band and any friends they chose to invite back to their room after to party and unwind.  Such was the life of a traveling rock and roll band.  The party was fairly low key, and Layla mainly sat alone in a corner, sipping tequila and observing.

"Where's Seth?"

Layla's attention was pulled from the bottom of her glass by Tara dropping onto the love seat next to her.  Her heart skipped a beat, for this was officially the first time Tara had made a move to speak privately with her, or socialize.

"Uh, he…  He said he wanted to go clubbing instead of stay in," Layla said uncomfortably.

She saw the split second shadow of anger cross Tara's pretty eyes, and her own cheeks flushed.  She wondered if Tara would confess that she knew what that likely meant.  She asked herself if she should be mad, or touched, if Tara chose to keep what she knew about Seth St. John to herself.  The expression passed, and Tara brandished a rare smile on Layla.  "Great, finally a chance for us girls to get to know each other!"

Layla studied Tara, a million thoughts swirling through her mind.  After seeing how Tara had responded to a chance to sleep with her husband, Layla definitely felt less hostile toward the woman.  But she still felt strange about her too.  Something told her to stay away. 

Yet something else drew her in.

She returned Tara's smile.  "Yeah.  I'm sorry I've been so distant."

Again, Tara's face faltered for just a second.  Layla saw hurt there before the smile returned.  "S'ok," Tara said cheerily.  "I get it.  New chick, gotta take some time to figure out if you like me or not." 

It was such a different side of Tara she saw just then.  Usually the woman was snarky to the point of being crass and almost rude.  She almost never cracked a smile, unless she was cracking a joke at someone else's expense.  She seemed generally pissed off.  But for the first time, she let Layla see a genuine side.  A peaceful, perky side.  Layla liked it, and felt flattered she was the one being allowed to see it.  Her guard slipped completely away and she felt bad for every evil thought she'd had toward the woman.

"Oh, Tara, it's not that.  I liked you from the second you walked into your audition," Layla admitted.  "I don't know what my problem was.  I'm so sorry."

Tara gave her a long quiet look, a slight smile still lingering on her lips.  "No worries, all is forgiven."  She reached out tentatively, and Layla responded by giving her a warm hug.  After another quiet moment of hesitation, Tara spoke again in a much lower voice.  "Just so you know, Layla.  Um, you don't have to worry about me trying to… You know…  Get with your husband," she said bashfully, looking utterly embarrassed.  She rushed on.  "I mean, not that Seth would cheat on you or anything!  Just that, I mean…  I'm a lesbian."

Layla's eyes widened.  For a rocker chick with asshole parents who never cared about her, Layla had lead a pretty sheltered life.  She'd never talked to any lesbian woman in person, that she was aware of.  She giggled.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said.  "I don't mean to laugh.  It's not funny.  But, yes.  I'm glad you told me that.  And I feel like a real asshole for the way I've acted the last six months."

Tara giggled too.  "I guess I should've opened with that."

"Well, it's your business, sweetie.  Not your fault I'm an insecure child.  So…  You…  Don't like men at all?"

Tara shook her head.  "No.  I've never been with a man.  But, at the same time, I don't really think its common knowledge.  I mean, I don't care if people know really.  But, I dunno, I'm just a really private person."

Layla nodded.  It explained a lot about Tara, and she felt abundantly more comfortable with her.  "So, what else do I not know about you?"

Tara laughed again.  "Get this, this will trip you out.  I used to be a nurse."

"No way! From nurse to rock star?  Seriously?"

"Ha ha, well I wouldn't call myself a rock
star
really, but yeah.  Not everyone makes money with music from puberty on, Lay.  I went to nursing school right out of high school.  And actually, I was pretty good at it.  I could probably have become a doctor.  But, the limelight was calling me.  You know how that goes."

Layla gazed into Tara's eyes, listening intently to every word she had to say.  "I sure do," she agreed quietly.

***

Layla's life became increasingly strange.

She felt a much more comfortable rapport with the band after patching things up with Tara.  Seth, on the other hand, despised Tara and their working relationship became volatile.  Though it secretly overjoyed Layla to watch one woman refuse her husband over and over, the work environment became contentious and hostile for all involved.  Additionally, she knew in her heart of hearts that just because he wasn't messing around with Tara certainly didn't mean he wasn't messing around.  His drug use escalated, and his private time with Layla diminished.

Meanwhile, her friendship with Tara blossomed.  They had so much in common, and enjoyed each other's company so much, she barely fretted anymore about her husband's erratic behavior.  They became inseparable and enjoyed all of life's simple pleasures together. 

One night, after a show in Florida, the whole band decided to club together around the happening Orlando scene.  Neither Layla nor Tara generally cared to party in public, but once in a while the band felt they should make public appearances and commune with fans.  So at one in the morning, a limo escorted them to a huge dance club that was packed with gyrating bodies.

Seth took a line of cocaine in the limo.  Across from her, she noted Tara in one of her brooding moods, hammering shots of Firewater.  Layla sipped a beer on the way, feeling slightly grumpy that apparently everybody was somewhere else in their own heads that night, and she would likely not enjoy herself.

Inside the club, the band was recognized and rushed by fans.  Seth vibrated with energy and Layla was happy to let him absorb most of the attention.  She preferred to keep her distance from the public, while Seth enjoyed nothing more than shamelessly whoring himself to a crowd.  After politely chatting and signing some autographs, Layla found herself a seat at the bar.

She briefly watched her husband but quickly lost interest.  She suspected he acted entirely different without her around, and the tabloids certainly substantiated that suspicion.  However, with her there, Seth mainly hung with the male bandmates and behaved himself.  She didn't care anymore anyway. 

Once her husband was drunk and had forgotten her completely, her attention was drawn to Tara.  Her friend was also quite preoccupied that night, and paid Layla little attention.  She sat pouting about it, but at the same time annoyed with herself for feeling neglected. 
Jesus, Lay,
she thought. 
What are you, a baby?
 

For a while she lost track of both Seth and Tara and sat at the bar barely able to even stay awake.  She was eternally bored.  She began to consider having the limo just take her back to the hotel without her compadres.  But then Tara resurfaced.

And Layla's blood boiled.

Tara emerged through the crowd holding the hand of a gorgeous brunette woman.  The laughing pair made a striking couple.  They approached the bar, several feet to Layla's left and waited there for a bartender to come to them.  They seemed lost in conversation and stood cheek to cheek, talking into each other's ears in order to be heard over the noise of the bar.

Layla openly stared at them.  She wondered what they were chatting about.  She noted that they touched and brushed into each other as they spoke, and it appeared that they'd both forgotten everything else on Earth in that moment.  Even from a distance, Layla could feel the desire passing between the two women.  The jealousy she felt choked her.  But then she asked herself why in the hell she was jealous.

The bartender finally popped up to help Tara and her new friend.  She couldn't hear what Tara said to him, but he returned soon after with two shots.  With wide eyes, Layla watched as the brunette woman leaned back slightly, arching her back.  Tara sprinkled salt onto the woman's heaving cleavage.  With a heady look, Tara licked the salt from the woman's breasts, shot her tequila, and then sucked a lemon.  The woman then licked Tara's lips lightly.  Tara grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in for a demanding kiss.  She probed her mouth and the woman visibly trembled with the desire of Tara's kiss.  Then, she pulled away with a mischievous smile.  She pushed Tara slightly back, so she was the one arching that time.  The stranger sprinkled salt on Tara and took her body shot as well.

Then, the two women joined hands and turned to press through the crowd and out the front door of the club.

Layla stumbled off her barstool and bolted toward the bathroom.  She hoped nobody noticed that she was crying.

***

Layla woke with a blinding headache and feeling grouchy as hell.  She looked to her left and found Seth's side of the bed vacant, which only darkened her mood.  She hauled herself out of bed and stumbled toward the hotel room's bathroom.  She pushed open the door and gasped, surprised to find Seth in there.

He sat on the edge of the bathtub.  There was a red rubber tube tied around his forearm and a needle was inserted there.  His eyes were closed and he hunched slightly forward.  But he startled when she walked in.

"Seth!  What the hell?"

"Get out," he said weakly, his eyes barely open.  All the air rushed out of Layla and she turned to retreat, shutting him in the bathroom. 

She went back to the bed and perched anxiously on the edge.  She listened for any sounds from the bathroom and heard only quiet rustling.  Moments later, Seth emerged.  He strolled to the bed and collapsed onto it.  He propped his hands behind his head and stretched out leisurely, a blissful look on his face.

Layla could barely breathe.  It took her a minute of watching him in his quiet repose to find words.  Finally she worked up the courage.  "Seth…  What were you doing in there?"

His eyes fluttered open and he stared at her.  "What do you think?"

She felt feverishly hot and had difficulty catching her breath.  "How long have you been shooting heroin?" she asked in a wobbly voice barely above a whisper.

Seth sat up on the bed and scurried over next to her.  "It doesn't matter.  Nothing to worry about, baby," he assured, smiling peacefully at her.  It was the calmest and kindest she'd seen him in ages.  Yet she felt like breaking into hysterical tears.  His smile faded.  "I mean it, Layla.  It's nothing for you to worry about." He executed his words clearly and concisely. 

He placed his hands on her chest and pushed her back on the bed.  "Nothing…" he murmured.  Seth slid off the bed onto the floor and spread her legs.  She felt both scared to comply and scared not to.  Everything about him was different than usual.  He was gentle and slow, lacking his usual spastic energy and demonstrating unusual care.  She trembled as he lifted her flimsy nightgown and exposed her because she wasn't wearing panties. 

Seth lowered his face between her legs and licked her tenderly.  Her body tensed and tingled where his tongue caressed her, thighs, abdomen, lips…  She wanted to stop him, yet it was almost like being with a stranger and curiosity prevailed.  After a mindlessly tantalizing time, he finally gently used his fingers to open her and slowly worked his tongue inside.

She sunk back into the messy covers on the bed, moaning and arching her back.  Lifting her knees and spreading her legs wider, she buried her fingers in his hair.  He omitted small quiet noises, receiving pleasure from giving it to her.  The sound of him licking her became the most intensely erotic thing she'd ever experienced. 

And then Tara appeared, there in Layla's imagination. 

She closed her eyes and writhed on the bed.  She imagined Tara was the one there crouched between her legs.  She imagined Tara sighing.  Imagined her bare breasts, and putting her own tongue there.  Seth slid his tongue out of her and up ever so slightly to swirl it deliciously slowly, round and round on her clit.  But in Layla's mind, it was Tara.  Her husband was surely too obliterated to realize that she'd forgotten him entirely, even as he gave her the most intense pleasure she'd ever known.

When Layla was dripping, he slipped one finger inside her while continuing to manipulate her with his tongue.  Whatever spot he touched inside her, it caused her back to arch and she cried out, a long lost sound hanging on the stifling quiet air of the hotel room.  He stroked and licked her with more vigor and suddenly she felt an unfamiliar feeling mount deep inside her, a sensation of both tingling and numbness, a sense of a pending surrender.