“Damn right,” I mutter to myself as she walks away, leaving me with the guys. “Time to fuck shit up.”
* * *
Sound check was great, and now we’ve got a few hours to kill before we’re needed again. I call up the shop where I sent mom and the girls to shop for new clothes (and Ted of course, can’t forget him) and they have actually made it there already. I guess they will make it to the show after all. Mom has a habit of saying she’ll do something and then not following through, though, so I won’t get my hopes up just yet. I give the shop my credit card number and confirm that my family can get whatever they need before hanging up. I hate that it feels like I’m buying their affection, but I don’t know how else to get them here. My sisters would come just with me asking, but even at 18 and 22 years old, they still do whatever mom wants. Not that I can talk, I am buying them all new wardrobes to get them to my show, after all.
I’ve got a few hours before the show so I take a car service to the gym. I’ve been working harder on taking care of myself, though I have held on to a few bad habits. I have the occasional drink, but I rarely get wasted anymore. I still smoke, but a rock star needs at least one vice, right? I’m off drugs and not sleeping with groupies, so smoking is it for me. Well, some might say my workouts are not the best for me either, but I need the release. I usually go to whichever fight gym is closest to the venue, but since we’re in my hometown, I go to my actual home gym. Not that I own it, I just pay my fees like everyone else, but I am friends with the owner, Mike. The gym’s a little older and doesn’t get as many fighters as some of the bigger gyms in town, but I’ve been working out here since I moved to the city and I’m pretty attached to it.
“Hey Mike, you old bastard,” I yell out to the old guy standing near one of the heavy bags, surrounded by a bunch of what looks to be 12-year-old girls. “I’m just going to work out for a bit before the show tonight, cool?”
“Hey Connor! Didn’t think I’d see you until after your last show. Didn’t think you’d want to get your pretty face messed up.” Mike laughs at his own joke. He thinks he’s pretty funny, so he’s always cracking jokes and laughing at them himself. “There’s a couple of guys in the back who might spar with you if you’re up for it. Just don’t blame me if you’re singing with a black eye tonight.”
“Haha, funny Mike. You know I can hold my own with anyone you want to throw at me. Maybe I should quit the band and go pro?” I joke while he watches the girls throw combos at the bag. “Can I count on you to be in my corner?”
“Fuck that, Connor. You’re too pretty to fight. Now piss off and get your workout in. You’re cranky and you’re distracting my girls.” It looks like a few of the girls have figured out who I am, despite my clever disguise. I guess maybe I’m finally getting too famous to wander around on my own, no matter what clothes I have on. Shit, there goes my independence. I may need to consider bringing Devon for security from now on.
Not that I really wear a disguise. I’m just wearing a black ball cap over my dark brown, slightly curly hair, and a long sleeve moisture wicking shirt covers my full sleeve tattoos. I’ve also got grey joggers over top of my workout shorts so I can come and go quickly without changing. I should shower before I leave, but I’d rather not confirm any suspicions about my identity, or have anyone take pictures of my junk, so it’s easier to just go back to the hotel to shower after a workout.
Despite my cockiness regarding fighting ability, I actually don’t want to wind up with bruises of any type tonight, so I stick with jumping rope, shadow boxing, and a little pad work with Mike when he’s done with training the girls.
“So what’s with the class of girls?” I ask when we’re done with the pad work. “I didn’t think you did classes here.”
“Yeah, I didn’t used to, but my friend’s granddaughter got into a situation with a guy who didn’t want to take no for an answer, so I thought I should show her some stuff. That turned into showing her friends stuff, and now I run free self-defence classes for middle and high school girls.” Mike slouches a bit and rubs his hand over his head. “This girl managed to get away from the asshole before he could do much, but I still feel better with showing these girls how to fight, in case one of them is ever in that situation again. I’d rather she not have to rely on luck, you know?”
“Oh shit, Mike. I’m sorry to hear that. Glad it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. It’s a great thing you’re doing for these girls, though. If all girls had some fight training, maybe these little dickheads would finally get the message that they can’t go around doing whatever they want. If you need money to hire trainers to help with this, just let me know. I would love to get behind something like this.” I tell Mike truthfully. Maybe I could fund some classes or something as a way to give back. “We’ll talk more about this. For now, I need to go get ready for tonight. You sure you don’t want to come?” I ask him this every time we play nearby. He’s been to one show, and he wasn’t a big fan.
“No thanks Connor, I need to keep what’s left of my hearing intact. Plus, that shit you call music is just noise to me. Too much yelling, too much guitar.” He grins at me as he says this, but I know he’s telling the truth. He has also listened to a couple of our albums, so I know he’s at least made a serious attempt. I doubt my mother has even bothered to do that.
I pull on my joggers and throw my hat back on. “Alright Mike, I’ll check back in soon. Thanks for the workout.” I give him a two finger wave as I walk out the door and get into the car that’s waiting to take me back to the hotel. I should just go to my house, but all my stuff is still at the hotel. Just one more show, and then I’ll be back in my own home. This tour has taken a lot out of me and I can’t wait to just be in my own space again.
Chapter 4
Alex - The Only One
Sitting alone in Becca’s apartment, the reality of my breakup with Derek really hits me. It’s happening again. That’s what I said to Becca on the phone. And she was ready to come running just based on that. What is my life that I have my own emergency response team for being cheated on? How does this keep happening? What is it about me that makes every guy want to cheat?
I wouldn’t consider myself the most attractive woman in the world, but I’m pretty enough, I think. I’m hilarious most of the time, and people seem to think I’m fun to hang out with. Becca is my best friend, but I have a lot of acquaintances and other friends that I spend time with occasionally. I wouldn’t say I’m an especially needy girlfriend. I’m happy with doing regular activities and don’t need someone romancing me constantly or always saying how much they love me. It’s nice to have it every once in a while, but I don’t need it every hour of every day. My past lovers have seemed satisfied, so I think I’m ok on that front. I suppose I could be wrong about that, though. They did cheat, after all.
On paper, I’m a pretty stellar girlfriend overall. I guess that means there is something inherently wrong with me that I can’t see, or that all men are cheaters. Either way, it’s going to be much easier on me if I just stay away from men for good. It will disappoint Becca that her little ‘fuck a rock star’ plan won’t happen tonight, but that’s probably for the best. I can’t keep normal dudes interested, so there’s no way a rock star is even going to look my way.
Then again, I had a musician boyfriend once, a long ass time ago. “And he was the only one who didn’t cheat on me,” I add out loud.
“Who didn’t cheat on you?”
“SHIT!” I practically jump out of my skin. “Becca, I didn’t hear you come in. How long have you been there?”
“Just a few minutes. I’m not surprised you didn’t hear me; you looked pretty lost in thought. Who was the only one who didn’t cheat?” she asks, even though she should know the answer. When I first moved here after my parents died, it was her helping me through that and my breakup with Connor that bonded us. She was my lifeline during that time. I wouldn’t have made any friends or done anything but mope around at home if it hadn’t been for her taking pity on me that first day of school when I was walking around with teary, red-rimmed eyes.
“My first boyfriend, Connor. I was just thinking to myself that, considering recent developments with Derek, I’m going to swear off men entirely. Then I thought of your plan for tonight and was telling myself that a rock star would be the worst type of guy to get involved with since they’re pretty much drowning in pussy and guaranteed to cheat. But then I remembered Connor was a musician, and he’s the only boyfriend I had who didn’t cheat. I suppose he might have without me knowing, though.” I take a minute and think about that while I push my hair out of my face. I don’tthinkhe ever cheated. We never even slept together, so would it haven even been cheating, anyway? “I creeped him online not that long ago but couldn’t find anything out. I wonder if he’s still doing music?”
I always loved listening to Connor play for me, and his voice was amazing, too. I had a hard time convincing him to sing for me at first; he considered himself just a guitarist, but when he finally did, I knew I was witnessing something special. I really hope he’s made music a part of his life. It would be such a shame if he wasn’t sharing that gift with the world.
“Oh yeah? What was his last name again? Maybe I can find something out. I’m basically a detective when it comes to searching people online.” Becca’s already pulled out her phone to start her search.
“It’s Connor Ferguson. You search while I get ready to go. I doubt you’ll find him though. I am pretty good with online investigations too you know.” I grab a towel from the linen closet and my toiletry bag from one of my boxes and walk toward the bathroom. “If you find him, I want to know everything.” I stop and think for a moment. “Unless it’s bad, then don’t tell me. I want to think at least one of my guys didn’t have a wandering penis.”
She laughs. “You got it, girl. Good things only. Connor Ferguson is either a saint or he’s dead to us.”
I shake my head and close the bathroom door behind me. I let the shower warm up while I get undressed. A concert will be a fun distraction. Who knows? I might even like the music and get some new songs to add to one of my playlists. Speaking of playlists, I connect my phone to the bluetooth speaker in the bathroom and turn on my angry, rage music playlist and turn it up. Call me strange, but there’s just something about really hard rock that soothes me.
