My Melody (Downtown Book 3) (20 page)

“A journalist. A
respected
journalist,” she points out. “You can trust me, Wayne.” She places her hand on my shoulder.

I don’t budge. “Sorry, but no can do, Babe.”

“Okay,” she lightly chuckles. Nothing I say seems to affect her. “Well…how about I hang around after the show as a non-journalist, okay?”

“That’s cool, but still won’t change anything. I’ll talk about anything else, but my love life, understand?”

“Of course, no problem. I hear ya. Well, I gotta run. See you later after the show?”

“Sure,” I shrug.

Without any notice, Scarlett plants a kiss on my cheek. “Bye, now. Bye Slim.” She walks off with her hips swaying back and forth, looking fucking hot, but damn something isn’t right about her.

I didn’t know Slim was behind us until Scarlett said something. He heard everything we talked about. “How’d she find about about Melody?” Slim asks.

“Have no fuckin’ idea. There are ways though.”

“Man, she sure has changed.”

“Yeah, she has,” shaking my head. “Don’t get too close to her. I have a weird feeling about her, and it’s not good.”

“What the hell did Europe do to her?”

My thoughts exactly.

It’s fucking hot and humid as hell out here today, but the show must go on and we’re ready to kill it! I look out into the crowd and I see chicks in their tiny bikini’s, drinking beer and a few beach balls bouncing around. This place knows how to party! “What’s up New York City!” Lucky announces.The chicks, as always, give us a good scream. The bouncers are like robots, making sure no one gets up on stage. “We love The Big Apple, and we love you!” I hit a few notes on my bass. The chicks dig it. “You ready for more music!?” Lucky holds out his mic out into the audience to get more of a reaction. Works every time. “We’re ready too, so give us some thunder Jason!” Jason starts up, then the rest of us chime in and take our show to another level. Panties, bras, condoms, you name it, fly onto the stage. It’s crazy as hell.

I do my new signature move, after we’ve played a few songs. I get close to the edge of the stage, and yell into the mic, “I’m gettin’ pretty hot out here ladies! Time to take this shit off! Who wants it!” Holy fuck me, but damn these chicks are crazy for me. I love every minute of it. I take my bass off, then my tank and throw it out into the crowd. Like every other show, these women are like raging bulls. It’s such a turn on seeing them react this way. I remember getting a hard- on every time they started yelling my name. It’s still a thrill when I hear them screech for me, but the hard-on is intended for one person now - the one person who I desperately need here with me. I miss her so fucking much. I want her to be on the sidelines, cheering me on, watching me entertain the world. I hope, once we get back home, I’ll get her back in my life.

Our part of the show is now over. I am so ready for a few shots of anything, but first I guzzle down my hundredth bottle of water. All of us are sweating bullets and smell like shit. Hell, it was a great show though, and worth every bullet of sweat. After the guys and I settle ourselves backstage, we are hounded by groupies. As much as I want to attend to each and every one of them, I am so drained. I do the best I can by signing shit, selfies, groups shots and yes - turning down a good lay. Never fails, I always get a few begging me to take them somewhere secluded. I don’t blame them. That’s what I used to love doing; I was all for it, but things have changed.

I’m feeling a good buzz after having a few shots of tequila. I don’t want to have too many, so I limit myself to only having five. I take a seat on one of the couches, feeling exhausted, but good. I’m about to check my phone for any messages, when Scarlett makes herself known. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but she looks so sexy. She’s wearing tiny booty shorts, fuck me heels, and a tube top.
Her tits…shit
. Her hair is up in a ponytail, exposing a nice, long neck. If I wasn’t hooked on Melody, I’d start making out with Scarlett, without even thinking. It’s impossible for my junk not to jump. Can’t help it. I have a feeling she knows what she’s doing to me. She loves this attention she’s getting from me. I can’t keep my eyes off her.

She sits really close to me, our bodies are touching, and I can feel the heat coming off from her. She slides a hand over my thigh. “I can’t get over how hot you are out there,” she says, leaning close to my ear. She smells really good. “Especially when you took off your shirt. Smokin’ hot, Wayne.”

I have to get my act back together. I don’t touch her or imply I want her back. “All entertainment.”

“Really?” she chuckles. “Secretly, I think you love it.”

Damn, she’s good. I do love it. “You got me. I like to get a rise out of them.”

“You’re good at it. They can’t get enough of you.” She whispers in my ear, “
I
can’t get enough of you.”

That whisper sends chills and a signal to my cock.
Fuck.
“Scarlett.”

“Come on, Wayne. Don’t you think we have something here? You can’t deny we have a spark.” She’s right. We have a definite spark. What the hell is she doing to me? “Ever since high school, you never left my heart. I’ve always had this deep sense we were meant to reconnect and start over.” Our faces are an inch apart. Why do I have the feeling she’s about ready to kill me with her lips? “Let’s start over.” She kills me. Her fucking lips hit mine before I get the chance to stop her.

I am about to push her away when a flash gets my attention. “Fuck!” I yell. “What the hell is this?” I shove Scarlett away from me and fly off the couch. “Get that fucking camera out of here!” The guys immediately send that fucker away from our room. I turn to Scarlett. She’s got a wide ass grin on her face. Holy hell, she got me. She totally fucked me up. “Did you set me up?”

“Guess you were right You can’t trust me,” she so bluntly admits. “The journalist in me doesn’t go away, no matter what.”

This has got to be some kind of sick twisted psycho I’m dealing with here. “Who the fuck are you, huh? Was this your plan the entire time? We have a reunion and you try to reel yourself back into my life and betray me? Can’t fucking believe you.” I have never felt this much anger before, it scares the shit out of me.

Lyric comes to the rescue, before I strangle Scarlett to death. “Hi, I’m Lyric. You need to leave. Now,” she says stoned face, yet with a look of rage in her eyes. She is a total badass. “You’re not welcome back here anymore. I’ve got security on standby.”

“It really was nice seeing you again, Wayne.” She brushes her body against mine - on purpose, no doubt - and sways those hips away and out of my life for good.

I swipe a hand through my hair. “Can’t believe I let her in here.” My jaw is aching from the tension.

“You didn’t know,” Lyric says, soothingly.

“Hell I didn’t. I had a bad feeling about her, earlier.” The room has been cleared out and the guys surround me. They’re just as pissed off as I am.

If things couldn’t get more fucked up, Slim hands me his phone. “Shit, bro. Look.”

Fuck.
Scarlett tweeted the picture of us kissing. She also makes it sounds like it was a consensual decision. “Just fucking great,” I say, through clenched teeth.

“You said she was a friend from high school?” Lyric asks.

“Yeah, but she wasn’t like this back then. Don’t know how she could have changed into the bitch she is today.”

“I did not see it coming. I am real sorry, man.”

“My own fault, Slim. If I wasn’t drinking -”

“I saw her grab your face, dude! She’s the one who kissed you first.”

“Still, bro,” I shrug. “Should’ve trusted my instinct.”

“I could tweet back and deny it?”

“Too late,” I admit. “Bet Melody has already seen it. I’m fucked.”
Totally, and utterly fucked.
I am definitely defeated.

Lyric cuts in, “I made it so we won’t have any more press in your room, for the rest of the tour.”

“Whatev. Damage has been done. Gonna go to the bus.” I need to get out of this stuffy ass room. Even though it’s still hot outside, feeling the fresh air calms me down.

“Bro,” Jason calls after me. He slaps a hand on my shoulder and walks with me toward the bus. “Things will settle down soon. Just have to give it time.”

I stop and turn to him. “You don’t fucking get it, Jason. I told Melody I loved her and that there was no one else in this world I’d rather be with. I thought the first picture was bad, but this one?” I scoff, “Looks like I lied and moved on without giving her time to think things through. It’s over, dude. Fucking over.”

Getting a headache, I dig inside my duffel bag and grab a couple pain meds to drink down with another bottle of water. The air conditioning and the silence inside the bus is just what I need. I lay down on the couch and close my eyes for a little while. If I had a choice, I’d stay in here for the rest of the day, but I know we have a small photoshoot in an hour. I’ll take this time to regroup. A knock on the door has me clenching my jaw again. I just wanted to be left alone. Wonder who it is, though? Without being a total dickhead, I tell whoever it is to come in. It’s Jet Master, from the band
Kings Fate
. Our bands have become great friends. On our first tour ever, we opened up their shows and now doing this summer's tour together. It’s been hell of a trip doing round two with them.

“Just checking up on ya. Lucky told me you were chillin’ back here.”

I sit up, giving Jet a fist bump. He is one cool dude. He’s got tons of experience in this business. Just knowing he came out to the bus means a lot to me. “

“Yeah. Needed some alone time, think about stuff. Heard about your wife. Hope she’s feeling better.” This past week, Jet’s wife had an accident involving a trip to the Emergency Room. He almost had to leave the tour to go back home.

Jet sits across from me on the ottoman. “Yeah, she is, thanks. It was a pretty nasty fall. Thank fuck my mother was there to help take her to the hospital.”

“For sure.”

“I heard about that reporter, Donahue - trying to get some goods off ya.”

I exhale, brushing a hand through my matted hair. “Pretty fucked up.”

“It’s really sick what she did. Unfortunately that’s the world we live in as artists. The more famous we get, the worse the tabloids and scandals. Just need more security around you. Make sure that’s taken care of,” Jet advises. “I’ve had my fair share of shit, so I know what you’re going through.”

“Our manager and publicity agent are on top of things.”

“Good.”

“A year ago this sort of shit wouldn’t have bothered me. I was all about a good time with any chick that walked up to me. It’s all changed since I met the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.” This is the first time I have admitted to anyone, outside the band, about Melody. I trust Jet, so it’s not a big deal.

“I totally hear ya. Met my wife ten years ago when I was having the time of my life; sex, partying, but the second she entered my world, I was completely whipped. I never looked at another woman, ever again. My life changed for the better. She enriched it.”

“Exactly how I feel about Melody,” I mutter. “It’s unlikely we’ll be together, because of the latest picture.”

“Don’t give up on being together. Love always wins.” Wish I could be as positive and optimistic. Just then, his phone chimes. He looks down and says, “I’m being called out.”

I stand up with him, shaking his hand. “Seriously, dude, thanks for the pep talk.”

“You got it. Peace out, Wayne,” he says, giving me the peace sign.

Jet fucking Master just gave me a small bit of advice, that will certainly go down in my bucket list of all bucket lists.

Love always wins.
We’ll see about that.

We are finally done with the photoshoot and ready to hit the road - onto our next destination.

Lyric has us gathered all together in the small bus living room, explaining the next show. “Guys! Next stop, New Orleans!” Slim whistles. We’re all stoked and totally love New Orleans. The people down there are super friendly and fun to entertain. “Security, again, will be super tight. Just a reminder, no talking to reporters unless it’s for a panel,” she warns us. “They won’t be allowed in the greenroom. I think New York taught us a big lesson.” It sure did. Never gonna be that stupid again. “Amazing show you guys put on today. Really, you all blow my mind. I couldn’t be more proud and grateful to be your manager.”

“Thanks for sticking with us, Lyric,” Slim expresses. “Now, you and I have a serious match we need to finish.”

Lyric laughs. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s get down to it, Hot Stuff.”

“Oooh, hot stuff! I get all tingly when you call me that.”

“Move over and deal.”

For a couple hours we eat chips and dip, drink beer, listen to some music from the iPod and play a few hands of poker. By the end of our last round, most of us are ready to hit the hay. We climb into our bunks, while Lyric stays up and works on some late night paperwork. I crash the second my head hits the pillow.

Sometime in the middle of the night there is a horrifying, rude awakening. One minute I am dead asleep the next there is a screeching noise and a loud crash, crunching of metal. Our bus must have crashed. I was thrown from my bunk and landed on something hard. My right leg exploded in excruciating pain. Pain I have never before experienced in my life. I’ve never broken anything before, so I was scared out of my mind. I heard moaning from the guys, but I wasn’t sure where they were or if they were okay. My head was hurting; I hit it on the ground, when I fell I think. I could feel blood underneath my face. I couldn’t talk or breath, not until I moved my leg. I let out a scream that I didn’t even recognize. Fuck me, I was in so much pain.

“Is everyone okay!” Lucky yells out.

“Not sure Luck!” I yell back. “Think I broke my leg - Fuck!!” I move it again and almost pass out from the sharp jabbing pain.

It’s so dark in the bus, I don’t see Lucky near me. “Dont’ fucking move it, bro. I’ve called 911. They’re on their way.” I think the bus is on it’s side, but I can’t tell. I’m lying smack against something, could be a closet.

Jason and Danny crawl over to me. Danny mentions he’s not feeling so good and suddenly vomits.
Holy fuck, this isn’t good.
He might have a concussion. Jason does what he can to keep us both comfortable and stays with us.