My Melody (Downtown Book 3) (15 page)

He backs up. “Sorry, bro,” he says defensively. “Just think about what I said. Take a break will ya? Jack off in the shower or something.”

Before I get a chance to reply, Jason comes around the corner and yells for us. “Wayne, Slim, let’s go!”

We rush to another room where there is a panel table. We sit with the band, sign shit and are asked tons of questions from the press. By the time the day is over, it’s almost past twelve in the morning; we’re packed onto the bus, driving toward our next city/state, for the next concert.

I’m up in my bunk, ready to crash when Danny tells me Harmony wants to speak with me. He called her after we crawled into our beds. I don’t know why she needs to talk with me right now. I am fucking tired.

“Harm, what’s up?” I ask, groggily.

“Hey, I know it’s late, but I wanted to tell you I spoke with Melody the other day.”

Fuck.
This was the reason for the sudden late night pillow talk? “Don’t want to go there with you, I’ve told you.”

“I know, I know, but I have to be honest…I really think you need to see her when you travel into Vegas next week.”

“Won’t happen. She made her decision.”

“But it doesn’t mean you can’t see her.”

“She fucking destroyed me,” I argue. “I’m still hurtin’ - and don’t say it’s your fault. I know what went on had nothing to do with you. She was confused and lost.” After Danny told me how Harmony was hating herself, I couldn’t let that go on any longer. I made amends with her and made sure she didn’t feel responsible.

“I know, but the guilt..anyways, she’s finally getting her life together again. She’s got a job, and playing again.”

“Good. I’m happy for her, just not sure I want to go down that road again. I’m afraid if I see her, I won’t want to leave.” I pinch the corners of my eyes, feeling my heart rate go up. Talking about Melody aches like a motherfucker.

“I understand. But do think about it. I want her home. She belongs with us.”

“Yeah, maybe, we’ll see. Gonna get off now. Time for some shut eye,” I yawn and seriously need to get off.

“Wayne.”

“Yeah?”

“She works at Shazzy’s Lounge.”

“Don’t need to tell me. June already did.”

“You heard Phillip went there?”

Phillip went to Vegas for business, so June told him to go check in on Melody. I didn’t want to hear it from June either, but knowing Melody was okay and that she was fulfilling her dreams again did a number on me. I wanted to be happy for her, yet I wanted her to be happy, fulfilling her dreams with me instead.

“Harmony, I’m getting off now. Talk later, Babe.”

“Okay. Talk to you later.”

I shut the phone off and bark at Danny to take it back. I click off the light inside my bunk and go to sleep.

THIS IS THE NIGHT. I
am actually going to get up on stage, after…shit I don’t even recall how many years anymore - I just know I am shaking like a leaf and afraid I’ll bomb my entire song. I’ve gone over and over with this song, it’s like tattooed in my brain, I should be ready. No, I
am
ready. Yet really,
really
terrified.

It took me forever to find the right outfit to wear. I own mostly black clothes, so it shouldn’t have been hard to choose, but you know…nerves and all. I decided on my trademark, black leather pants, black off the shoulder top and black heels. I didn’t know what to do with my hair, so I kept it simple; down, curled and sleek.

I’m waiting behind the bar until the first singer is finished, looking out into the audience. They seem to be enjoying themselves and relaxed. That’s a good thing because I don’t want to fuck this up and be laughed at, or worse, be booed off the stage. Shaz is beside me, holding me around the waist. I’m sure he can feel how nervous I am. “Fuck, Shaz, you think I can do this?”

He squeezes me. “Sugar Cube, you got this.”
God, I hope I d
o. The singer finishes his set of songs, then the audience claps, whistles and cheers for him.
Good Lord
I hope they do that for me. The MC introduces the next entertainer - me. “Now take that white ass of yo’s and do yo thang,” Shaz offers a shove and vote of confidence.

I give him a hug. “Thanks, Shaz. You’re the best.”

“Nah, I’m just the black jack. Now, get the fuck out there.”

“You got it, boss,” I salute him with a laugh and quickly make my way over to the stage. There is a single bar stool and mic stand waiting for me. I adjust the guitar strap around my neck, sit on the stool and glance out into the audience. They seem like a good crowd. I say a small prayer to my parents, hoping they’ll hear me and give me the strength to get through my fear. I clear my throat first, then speak into the mic. “Hi everyone, I’m Melody,” I announce shyly. “It’s been too many years since I’ve stepped up on a stage. I never thought it would happen again, not until I met the one person who gave me the strength to move forward. I’m starting to believe that certain people enter your lives for a reason. Without being able to move forward, I don’t think I would be up here tonight.” I finally start to feel relaxed, and more than ready to begin. “The song I’ll be playing for you,
Show Me
is a song I wrote a couple months ago. Hope you enjoy it.” I close my eyes while my fingers begin to take action. It’s like they’ve got a mind of their own; they know exactly what to do without me having to do all the work. It’s magical. Every verse I sing hits me in the gut. I feel it, breathe it and live it. Yet I don’t allow the words to make me cry. The confidence takes me to another place. I relish the moment, and before I know it, the song is over. I slowly open my eyes and say, “Thank you.” The audience begins clapping, whistling - for me!
Wow.
It brings a huge smile upon my face.

“Do you have any others!” I can’t see who yelled that out, but it makes me feel fucking awesome.

“Yes, I do in fact. Lots,” I chuckle. “Okay…this one I wrote when I was just a teenager. I had a dream of becoming a music labeled artist in LA. Sometime along the way, my dream was stripped away, but singing and playing would always be a passion. This song is called
What if
?
The energy that surrounds me is incredible. It feels even more amazing than when I used to play back in LA. This time I open my eyes and take in the audience’s expressions. I use their energy to give this song my all. When I complete it, they are shouting for more. “Wow, you guys are amazing!” I laugh. I want to continue to do this forever, but I know there are more entertainers waiting for their moment, so I make this my last song for the night. “When I write my songs, I write with honesty. I like to tell a story and make the listeners feel the words, kinda like country artists. In a way this song has some of that country feel to it. This last song is called,
Junkyard
. Hope you enjoy it.” This song is a little more upbeat. It makes me feel extremely good and happy. By the end, the men and women at their tables are giving me a standing ovation. It’s overwhelming, in a very
very
good way. “Thank you so much! You’ve been an awesome audience. Enjoy the rest of your night!” I run off the stage and into Shaz’s arms.

He gives me the biggest hug ever. “You did it, Sugar Cube!”

I can’t help but laugh. “Thank you! Wow! That was mind-blowing! I can’t wait to get back up there!” I feel so fucking good!

“How about you be my number one entertainment from now on?”

He catches me off guard. “Huh, what?”

“Every night. Six nights a week. No more bartending. I’ll pay you double if you bring that shit you just brought up on that stage, every fuckin’ night.”

Holy shit
! “Seriously, Shaz?”

“Does it look like I am jokin’?” He gives me a definite serious stare. “Hell, girl, you got somethin’ special.”

I start jumping with excitement and give Shaz another hug. “Yes, yes! Thank you!”

“Now, go get a drink. You deserve it.”

“I’m on it!” I am giggling like a twelve year old; an out of body experience. How cool is this! I am going to be Shaz’s number one entertainer! That means, I get paid higher than all the entertainers within the club, and pick my own times for each gig. I am flabbergasted!. A couple shots of silver tequila sound pretty good. I order two shots from the bartender.

“He says that to all the entertainers. You’re nothing special.”

What. The. Fuck
? Emily…the cocktail waitress who has never spoken one word to me, decides to finally open her big pie hole, hitting a nerve. I slowly turn my head, glaring. “Excuse me?”

She leans her back against the bar, resting her elbows on top. “Yeah, Shaz doesn’t do this out of the goodness of his heart,” she scoffs. “He is only thinking about money. He’ll throw you away, once you become boring. Always happens.”

I point my finger in her face. I am mad as hell. “You’re a bitch, and have a lot of nerve saying that to me.”

She moves into my space, and looks up at my face. “Honey, you’re talking to the master of bitches. It’s not news to me.”

“You’ve got that all wrong,
Honey
.
I
am the
queen
of all bitches, and if you step on my throne, you’ll be fucking sorry you ever got in my way.”

“Just sayin’,” she shrugs with a nasty smug on her face. “He’ll get bored of you. Speaking from experience.”

I cross my arms. “Maybe you just weren’t all that special.”

She laughs, “Oh, I was special, alright. He fucked me over, though. He’ll do the same to you.”

I am so ready to pounce her stuck-up attitude onto the floor, if she doesn’t shut up. “Get the fuck out of my face, before I make you sorry you ever got in it.”

She grabs her drink tray from the counter. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” and walks off.

The nerve of that bitch! Then I think about it. What if it’s true? What if Shaz really is that vicious? Am I playing right into his trap? Will he -

“You were fucking brilliant, Sweetness.”

I freeze. When I hear the smooth, sexy voice of my beloved ex-lover, I immediately tingle between my legs and form a sweat on the back of my neck.
Oh. My. God.
I gasp - loudly - the second his fingers comb through my hair. My heart begins to rapidly pound as I turn around to face him. I almost fall to the ground when I get a look at his gorgeous self; he’s wearing a dark blue baseball cap, hanging low over his forehead, and a pair of raybans. “Rocker Boy,” I whisper out. I can barely form any words, he’s left me breathless and speechless.

He takes his shades off and says, “Knew you had it in you,” grazing his thumb across my left cheek. He mumbles out, “Beautiful.” Chills travel throughout my entire blood system, I think I’ll need a heart transplant.
What he does to me.

“What are you doing here?” I manage to get out.

“Have a show tomorrow, and heard you were playing tonight. Sounded really, really good up there.”

Most likely my sister told him. I really wish she wouldn’t speak to him about me. Aside from that, he heard me sing. I don’t know what to say, other than, “Thanks.”

He lowers his mouth to my ear. “Need to go somewhere to talk. Don’t wanna get noticed, ya know?”

He wants to talk? I don’t want to talk. Yet, I owe him. I bailed on him without a moment’s notice, so I need to give in. “Uh, yeah…yeah, upstairs.”

I lead him up to my small apartment. There’s really nothing to it; one bedroom, one bathroom, small kitchen and a living room. But it’s home for me, and I’m comfortable with it.

“This your place?”

“Home sweet home,” I laugh nervously.

“Kickass quarters, you’ve got.”

We stand a couple feet apart. I cross my arms over my chest and look around the room. “Yeah, thanks. I like it too.” This is such an awkward moment. I need something to distract me. “You want something to drink?”

“No.”

“Wa -”

He cuts me off, taking two steps forward. “The fuck you leave me for?”

“Um…”

He slowly shakes his head, scowling at me. “Wasn’t fucking cool, Baby, the way you did it.”

My shoulders sag as I uncross my arms. I am defeated. “I know.”

“Why then?” he shrugs, continuing to have that scowl. “Wasn’t I enough for you?”

“Yes!” I take a step forward, almost wanting to touch him, but I keep my hands from doing so. “You were more than enough. Too much.”