LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
ZANE
There’s a template for life built into each society that determines one’s path before they’re born. The guardrails that provide both the comforts and constrictions that most people accept without a second thought. College or vocational school. Get a job. Fall in and out of love a few times. Marry the right girl. Buy a house. Have a couple of kids. Get a dog. Save up to take the wife to Acapulco for your anniversary so you can actually get laid again like you used to when you were in your twenties. Bury the dog. Finally send the kids off to college and have the house to yourself again, but by this time, you’re too tired and creaky to care much about getting laid. Retire. Move to Florida. Take up golf. Wonderwhy you ever enjoyed sex in the first place. Replace golf with fishing. Replace fishing with sitting on a bench and throwing breadcrumbs for the ducks. Die.
But there’s no template for the outliers—the ones who get famous or rich (or richandfamous). There are only fantasies and cautionary tales. So, when a guy finds himself in this fortunate position, he has to wing it as best he can. There’s no school to attend to inform you of the pitfalls that come with too much power and too much freedom. No mentors or books to offer lessons in ego management. Because of this, most men screw it up at some point or another. Over the first almost ten years of the band’s existence, the members of The Vows were no exception. Today would be another opportunity to fail.
All four men stood side-by-side in the dappled sunlight of the private garden of the Hotel Bel-Air wearing matching baby blue tuxedos and bow ties. They were sporting long hair, unkempt beards, and big bushy sideburns that Steven’s mother said weren’t suitable for a formal occasion (but at least their tattoos were hidden for the day, which was something, she supposed). Steven was pale and nervous, tugging on his collar and mopping his brow as they waited for his bride-to-be, Miriam, to appear.
It was a perfect May afternoon for a wedding, complete with a light breeze that smelled of spring flowers. But the four men, along with Steven’s brother, Ken (a bus driver whose short hair and sideburns were appropriate for any occasion), had partied too hard the night before, and now their eyes squinted as much from their hangovers as they did from the brilliance of the blue sky above.
One hundred-twenty guests (a strange mix of family members of the happy couple and celebrities) sat in white folding chairs on the grass, dressed in their finest clothing.But Zane didn’t bother to look at anyone but Sienna, who was in the third row next to a very pregnant Kitty. He and Sienna had been together for five months, and he fell for her again every single time he glanced in her direction, which was several hundred times a day. This would prove to be somewhat problematic today, since technically, he was still married, and his wife, Angela, (whom he already was calling his ex) was one of the bridesmaids, having grown close to the bride during her courtship with Steven.
Sienna wasn’t gazing back at Zane, though. She was chewing on her perfect pouty bottom lip while glancing over her shoulder in anticipation of the bridal party’s arrival. She looked upset and unsure of herself, which gave Zane an urgent, uncomfortable feeling, like swimmer’s itch, except of his soul instead of his skin. He was desperate to fix it for her—a reassuring smile or maybe his bedroom eyes accompanied by a little wink—but there was no way he could do that now because the wedding march started and the first of the four bridesmaids was making her way up the aisle. The chubby one whose name he could never remember.
She gripped the bouquet of yellow roses and baby’s breath with tight fists while glaring directly at him. This didn’t bode well for Zane since she was the nice one.
“Told you not to bring her,” Mike murmured, barely moving his lips.
“It’ll be fine. Angela won’t care,” Zane answered.
“Jesus, this is going to go so bad, isn’t it?” Steven muttered, maintaining a tight smile. “You couldn’t have just…?”
Steven stopped mid-sentence, but Zane knew what he meant. His decision to bring Sienna might jeopardize his wedding. Maybe even set the wrong tone for his marriage.But he wouldn’t say it. He’d leave it alone because Steven understood drummers are replaceable. Not that Zane had ever threatened to fire him. But the power dynamic had shifted in his favor through no fault of his own. Although recently, he found himself taking advantage of it a little more.
Over the last few years, it had become apparent which one of them was the sun and who merely orbited around him. Zane was not only the band’s frontman and main songwriter (which meant he had the most cash) but was also by far the most recognizable of the group—suffering screaming fans and paparazzi everywhere he went. Well, not suffering so much as enjoying it immensely.
The seeds of trouble had been scattered in fertile ground four years earlier when they won their first Grammy. It was also the year The Vows surpassed Credence Clearwater Revival as the biggest band in the world. (Wolfman Jack had balked, saying that it was only because CCR broke up, but Zane knew the truth. They were destined for the top. And they would stay there a good long time.) They were riding high as they took the stage that night. Zane hogged the microphone for their entire allotted time thanking his parents for their faith in him and his beautiful wife, Angela, for her undying devotion and support.None of this would be possible without you, baby.
He wasn’t lying about that because Angela was a poet who had written the lyrics for all their best songs. Uncredited, of course, because he couldn’t very well tell the world he needed his little wifey to do his job for him for the past three albums. That would humiliate the guys and be supremely emasculating for Zane. Besides, he liked to think they worked together on the lyrics. It wasn’t quite true but believing it had been good for his ego. And as an extraordinarilygifted performer who made women around the globe scream—a healthy ego is a necessity. It was something few people would ever understand. Only guys like Jagger and Presley and Lennon and Hendrix knew what it was like to be that big. His world got lonelier by the day, even when he was goofing around the studio with his best friends, laying down tracks just for fun. But then he met Sienna, and he felt connected to another human again. The feeling was intoxicating. Undeniable. It was everything.
When Angela started up the aisle, she kept her gaze on the long strip of carpet that matched her butter yellow dress and the wide-brimmed hat that was squishing down her long blond hair. She must be hating that hat right about now. Not as much as she hated her husband, but still, it was an awful hat. She was noticeably thinner than the night he packed a few things and left for New York to give her time to move out of their marital home in L.A. His heart squeezed seeing her this way and he wished she could have fallen out of love with him first.
When she passed Sienna’s row, her head swiveled in her direction, almost as if it had happened against her will. Then she turned her hollowed-out eyes to him, and an entire silent conversation happened in a split second.
I’m sorry. I couldn’t help falling in love with her.
Sure you could’ve. Screw you. And screw her too.
By the time Angela reached the front and glided past them to take her spot, she was staring at the ground again, and Zane was back to stealing glances at Sienna, whose face was red with shame that should’ve been his to bear. He longed to rush over so he could hold her in his arms and tell her as much.
She was his future. He’d announced it to her that morning when they were getting ready for the wedding.Sienna had been trying to get out of going, saying it was in bad taste for her to show up with poor Angela there. “What if she causes a scene?”
“She’s not the type to ruin Miriam’s day. She’s too nice to do that.”
“Oh, God, I’m not going. I can’t.”
But unable to stand the thought of facing this day alone, he asked her to marry him. Right there, in the en suite, where she was sitting in front of a mirror putting on her make-up. She laughed and told him he was crazy and that he wasn’t even divorced yet. So, Zane got down on one knee next to her and gestured for her to turn to face him. When she did, he placed his hands on her waist. “Seriously, Sienna. I love you so much it’s like a physical pain when we’re apart. I can’t even take a full breath. And it’s the craziest thing because your beauty takes my breath away, but then you give it right back to me again. Help me breathe, Sienna. I need you. I have never loved anyone the way I love you. And I never will again. Marry me.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded. Lowering her head, she kissed him, carefully, sweetly, like she would on their wedding day at the front of a church filled with people. She whispered, “Yes,” and they kissed some more, and he wiped away the streaks of happiness from her cheeks and his entire body filled with a hum of joy that he’d never known in all his twenty-nine years. And he slid her silk robe off her body and kissed his way down from her neck to her lean stomach and beyond, and they made love slowly, passionately, on the tile floor. After they’d both come undone, they panted and smiled and caressed each other. Sienna’s smile was replaced by fear. “Promise me you’ll never leave me.”
He did. Then he made her do the same. And it felt likethey were already joined in an unbreakable union. The rest would be a formality. Zane was ready take his rightful place as the most famous man in rock ‘n’ roll history, and he found a proper queen to stand next to him. Nothing mattered more that day than making her happy, and nothing ever would. Forever and ever. Amen. So long as he didn’t fuck it all up.
But hehadfucked it all up. For all of them. And as he sat at the Dwyer’s kitchen table, he could tell they all thought so, even though they didn’t even know the half of it. And as he sped down the freeway away from their house, the comet followed Zane out his driver’s side window, taunting him. It was visible now every time the night sky was clear, a constant reminder of the choices he made that led them to where they were. When he finally pulled into the garage, he held up his middle finger until the door was fully closed.
Once inside, he had a glass of red wine, then called his wife, saying a silent prayer that she would answer the phone.
“Hello?”
