My Melody (Downtown Book 3) (4 page)

I sit up, gasping for air. I can’t breathe. My chest feels heavy, I’m dizzy, and my heart is racing. Fuck, I’m having another panic attack. Ever since I came home from LA, all those years ago I have suffered from these God awful panic attacks. I’ve tried everything to make them go away, but nothing ever seemed to work. It’s been a couple months since my last attack, yet it never ceases to amaze me how terrifying and alone I feel when I suffer from one. I literally feel as though I am dying. I fucking hate them! I fucking hate my life. I hate everything about it! I’ve got nothing going for me except my sister. She provides for the both us because I don’t have it in me to search for a Goddamn job. I feel like I am not good at anything unless it’s playing my guitar or singing. Getting those things ripped away from me ruined my life. I am screwed without them. I should just get a job that pays and contribute, but I guess I am depressed.

“Baby, you okay?”

I gasp and jolt. I forgot Rocker Boy was next to me. “No. I need some air. I can’t breathe. And you need to leave.” I rip the bed sheet away from myself and walk out onto the room balcony. The breeze is just what I need. I place my hands on the railing and take in a deep breath. I can feel my heart slowing down, but I am still feeling the pressure in my chest. Why am I suddenly having this attack? What brought it on?

“Leave? Hell, I am not leavin’ you like this, Melody.” Wayne grips onto my shoulders. He is trying to calm me down, but it’s no use. He may be the source of my problem. “Maybe I can help you,” he says calmly and lovingly.

I tense up from his affection. I can’t do this, he is too close. “You can’t fucking help me!” I raise my voice, irritated. “Just get out, Wayne.” His hands leave my shoulders. I exhale. I just need to be alone.

“Here. Got you a bottle of water,” he offers.

I snap the bottle from his hand and take a long necessary drink. The water feels heavenly going down my dry throat. Why he is being so nice? Why is he still here? “What are you still doing here?”

“Told ya, I wasn’t leavin’ you.”

“What is wrong with you?” I whip myself around and glare at him, then pace back inside the room. “I thought I made it pretty clear that I make the rules here. I say when you can come. When you go. When we fuck.” I slam the water bottle down onto the table next to the dresser. I just realize that I am standing stark naked. I tug off the sheet from the bed and wrap it around my body. Wayne is not saying a word to me, yet his dark stare is kinda creeping me out. It’s an uneasy feeling.

“That’s pretty effed up, Sweetness, even for you,” he responds in a way that is totally unnerving. I said the wrong thing. The tone in his voice and the scowl upon his face shows a side of him that I haven’t experienced yet. He’s angry. It’s a quiet anger though. The scary kind. Yet, I cannot let him see how it affects me. I have to keep the control in this relationship.

“I am impossible to be with tonight and have a lot on my mind. Just go, Wayne. Please. I’ll be in touch.” Like any superhero would, Wayne moves in a flash and yanks me up onto the table. Once again, I am caught off guard. “What -”

The palms of his hands go on the back of my head; his thumbs graze against my cheeks. His eyes are intense, they’ve turned a dark blue. He forces me to look up into them. “You are the most gorgeous, exciting woman I have ever been with. I love what we have going on. There is something here between us, whether you want to believe in it or not. But I won’t be some dog on a leash for you.”

I wince from his confession. “But -”

“I know I said I’d do anything you tell me, but obviously I thought it was some kind of kinky game. Something fun. But this here, you making up rules for your own selfish reasons…it ain’t fun, Baby,” he painfully admits. He blows out a breath, releases my face, then pulls on his jeans and gathers the rest of his items. I stay silent on the table, holding onto my sheet. I just watch him, speechless. This
was
fun, it
is
a game, yet he’s stirring all kinds of feelings inside me that I have never felt before. He’s a magnet and forcing me to become attached to him, which wasn’t my plan. It’s very unsettling. I don’t know how to go about it. Once Wayne has everything gathered he comes back over to me. “I never thought I’d say this…but I want more. I want more with you.” He leans down and lightly kisses me. He takes my breath away with that light, gentle kiss. “I’ll be the one in touch this time,” then leaves me sitting on the table, utterly lost and wondering how the hell I’ll ever be myself again. Rocker Boy has struck a chord in my heart and in my soul.

I AM FUCKING DRAINED. A
week ago we arrived back home from our four month tour, opening for
The Convicts
. The minute we stepped off the bus in San Diego we were rushed to Los Angeles, two hours away to film our first music video. We were warned by our manager, Lyric, that it was going to be a grueling week. She wasn’t fucking kidding around. I have never been so exhausted. The guys and I barely slept, we were up for all hours getting this video completed. Overall I wouldn’t change a thing. The adrenaline took over for the most part, pushing us through a kickass experience for our first video. Hell, this week fucking rocked my world! I can’t explain how much I have learned in such a short amount of time; what it takes to be a musician, making music, playing for hot women - nothing can beat that. I was always told I was born to entertain the world with my talent. I guess all the years of playing in the garage, practicing my bass guitar for hours on end until I got it right, paid off.

Among other things we now have ourselves a publicity agent. His name is Ed. We met him in LA while shooting
Shattered
. He had a total hard-on for Lucky - he’s as gay as they come. Poor Lucky. We had a good time messing with him about Ed's crush.

Speaking of a
crush
, walking out on Melody was brutal, especially when we just had the most unreal, amazing night together - I had to walk out. She turned on me in a flash. I wasn’t expecting her to be so cold and heartless. Yet I knew there was a reason for her mood swing. The panic attack she had was caused by something, but I wasn’t going to force her to open up. I want her to learn to trust me. What we started a few months ago has turned into more than just a fling for me. Me submitting to her needs and wants has been a rollercoaster, a fucking dream, but my submission can only go so far. I can play dirty too. If she wants me, she’ll come get me. It’s torture on my dick, but I can withhold from other chicks. For some unknown reason, Melody is circulating inside my blood now. Having sex with her, without a condom, I can’t put into words how mind-blowing that was for me. She felt unlike anything I have ever experienced. Plus, we have a lot in common. It’s not just about the sex, it’s something else entirely new to me. It’s foreign, and I want to explore all the things that have to do with Melody. I want to know her inside and out. She just needs to know I’m not going anywhere, anytime soon.

Once our filming was finished we were able to head back down to San Diego. I think I slept for like twenty-four hours straight. Slim did the same. We almost didn’t make it to our rooms, we were totally wiped. Slim and I are still roommates. We’ve known each other since we were freshman in high school. We played football and lifted weights together. It wasn’t until our senior year we began focusing more on music, than football. Together we quit the team, putting all our time and energy into music instead. It was meant to be. Slim’s a badass guitarist, but I pushed him to get even better. I taught myself how to play. My parents were amazed I was able to do such a thing. I don’t even know how it happened: One day I was in a music store with my mom, I heard a song over the speakers, picked up some guitar that was on display and started playing. My mom calls me her baby genius. I don’t know about that. I hated school. I struggled a lot in all subjects, yet I kicked ass. Got good grades just so I could stay on the football team. But playing my guitar gave me freedom. I didn’t have to think - I just played. So the year I quit the team, became the best year of my life. Slim and I graduated high school, but didn’t go to college. My parents’ never pushed me to go. They knew the struggles I faced during school; college was not in my cards. Music is what I needed in my life. They understood and allowed me to pursue it. Both Slim and myself joined a small band, which did weekend gigs for birthday parties, weddings, Bar Mitzvahs - anything to make a small wad of cash. We had a lot of fun doing those parties, knowing all the while this was not what we wanted to do forever. We talked a lot about creating our own band, getting an agent to help us out, but we didn’t have the money to hire one yet. So we continued doing those gigs until we met Jason at a concert. He’s the one who encouraged us to form a band with him. He was also a musician; played the drums and guitar. Once Slim and I turned twenty-one we were able to play in bars and small local casino’s with him. Since meeting Jason, he’s been like our big brother. He’s seven years older than us and has always looked after us. It wasn’t until we met Lucky and Danny I was able to move out of my parents’ house and into an apartment with Slim. Of course I had to get some crappy low wage job to help pay my half of the rent, but I was still making music. It’s all that mattered to me.

When June, a rockin’ babe and owner of an up and coming label
BitchTour 2090
discovered us and asked us to sign with her
, our lives changed.
We were no longer stuck doing small gigs, broke, working odd jobs or worrying what our future held. No, now, we’re traveling around the United States, opening up concerts for the biggest rock bands around, climbing the music charts with our songs and now making music video’s.
It’s been a fucking epic ride.

Two days after we got back home, and had some much needed sleep, I decided to make an unannounced visit to see my parents’, Michael and Sheri. I’m really close with them and wanted to tell them all about this past week. They have always been awesome parents’; their support while I struggled through school or my need for extra rent money, they were always there for me. I owe them a lot. Not only are they amazing parents’, they’re down right cool. I love being around them, they’re easy to talk with and never judge anyone or anything. Slim practically lived with us during high school. My parents’ loved having him around - even if he and I would practically eat everything in the fridge. My older sister, Amber hated us for that. She complained she never could find any food. Can’t help two growing boys from eating. Still can’t. We’re always shoving food in our mouths.

“Mom, Pop, anyone home?” I shout, as I enter the front door.

I hear little feet pounding through the house, and a tiny pipsqueak voice shouting, “Uncle Wayne, Uncle Wayne!”

My niece, Raquel has her arms straight out, with a big, happy smile upon her face as she comes barreling into my arms. “Hey, my little Princess!” I scoop her up and give her a kiss on the cheek. She is the cutest five year old; she’s got long blonde, wavy hair, blue eyes and pronounced dimples on each chubby cheek. My sister has those same dimples, as well as my dad.

“Make me fly, Uncle Wayne!”

“You got it.” I fly her above my head, making plane sounds as I speed walk through the house and into the kitchen. Raquel keeps her arms spread out and giggles as we zoom around the kitchen table. My mom is in there. She smiles as she prepares lunch. She’s gorgeous with short light brown hair, a petite figure and big, dark blue eyes. My dad seriously hit the jackpot when he married her. I look like my dad, but without the dimples and the gray hair, with sky blue eyes; though my blues eyes are more dark, like my moms. We’re the same height - 6’2. I’m bulkier than he is, I workout as much as I can. It’s a stress killer. Plus I fucking love how it makes me look. The bigger the better.

I slowly place Raquel down into the chair at the table. “I want mo! Mo mo, mo!” She holds her arms up. I laugh and kiss her forehead.

“Raquel, it’s time for lunch,” my mom explains.

“You want lunch wit me?”

“Yeah, Baby Girl, I’m starving.”

“Before you sit down, Mister you better give me a hug,” my mom warns me. I bring her into my arms and swing her around. She laughs like a teenager. I love making my mom smile. “Oh, it’s so good to have you home!” She grabs both sides of my face. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”