Everything inside of me came to a screeching halt at his self deprecating tone. “Get out!” I snapped through clinched teeth. My hands were shaking with the need to smack his face. How dare he take what happened and make it about himself! I had fought and bled and almost died trying to keep this from touching him. Drama of this magnitude could ruin his career, could make his fans hate him if it was played in the wrong light. How dare he take the blame now?
“What?”
“I said get out!” I yelled and watched Shamus and his serene beauty turn to pain at my words.
“I’m staying.” He says with a note of defiance. I know I don’t trust or believe him even though I’m desperate to.
I felt tears burning behind my lids but refused to waste another tear on Shamus James. The wake was tomorrow and I just needed to get through it and never have to worry about seeing him again.
I felt the humiliation roll in like a storm. I was fucking losing it. I spent every minute of every day covering my tracks and making sure I was secure but all along I was coming apart, slowly unraveling before the man I loved. "Have you forgotten who you are Shamus? You can’t stay; you have shows lined up remember?"
"I don’t care."
"You don’t have a choice. Just go. The girl you loved is gone Shame, she bled out on the bedroom floor." I placed my hand over my belly and walked away.
Cover up with makeup in the mirror
tell yourself, it's never gonna happen again
You cry alone and then he swears he loves you
Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
Chapter Nine
Shamus
Fuck! I wanted her to stop me, tell me she needed me as much as I needed her. I knew it was my fault that she was now a survivor of abuse…and me. I had never hated like I hated now. I hated Cory Noxx. I hated the secrets my boys kept from me. I hated my dad for the bs he fed me over the years. Fuck, even a part of me hated Cassa.
Still driving Mike and Roni’sDurangoI drove over the I90 bridge into Seattle. I was a creature of habit. In moments of stress I went to music and right now my aggression was like a dog with a bone. When my mom passed, I couldn’t pound my drums. I need the beauty of the guitar and I strummed the old acoustic she bought me second hand.
I pulled the borrowed SUV into the empty lot of the studio we had rented to work on the new album. Chad and Carrie were planning the wedding and Chad had wanted to be close to Carrie and Noelle, as well as Noah wanting the same thing and Candey as well. I had liked the idea of being close to dad and Cal was like usual going with the flow.
I entered the building and smiled at the night clerk at the desk.“Shamus James.” I said and extended my hand. “I’m here to work a little aggression out on my drums.” I smiled my famous smile knowing by the look on the young guys face he knew who I was before I even told him my name. Celebrity had its perks in times of need and it let us all get away with a lot more and more times than not we got our own way easily.
“Sure man.” The kid said and handed me the visitor pass that had a bar code I needed to swipe to get into the studio.
“Take it easy my man.” I said with a wave over my shoulder. I told myself I would chat with the kid on my way out after I had worked the fury off. We had a few mellow songs on this album and Cal and I had been fighting the sweeter side to TAT. Chad and Noah were both in goodplaces right now and happy, they were also the main writers of our music. I loved our work and the songs were great, but I needed mad tonight.
I flipped the card against the pad at the door and waited for the green light. Once inside I saw the producer we were working with this round, sitting at the switchboard. “Tate.” I said in acknowledgment to the man who was making this album the biggest yet. He was a bad-ass when it came to laying tracks, and I was glad to see him there tonight.
“Shame, nice surprise man.” He said and stood to shake my hand. “I didn’t expect any of you here until Monday.” He was smiling but it was the smile I had been getting from everyone lately, the sad smile, the ‘ sorry about your dad’ smile.
“I need to beat some drums tonight, figured I would warm up and see what I came up with for the guys.”
The look went from sympathy to greed in a nanosecond.“Sure take your time and let me know if we need to record anything.”
I nodded and opened the door to the sound proof room, feeling at ease when I saw my drums sitting pretty and waiting for me. I had used Yamaha for years, but the first check I had I went out and got the all white PEARL drums that were a close second on my list of things I loved. Cassa was and would always be the first.
I tore my shirt off and grabbed my sticks from my back pocket. I pulled my iPhone out and started scrolling through my music looking for the right song. Next were my skull Candey ear plugs and I took my seat. This moment before the first hit came, the release of it, was as close to religion I would ever experience. It was like coming home every time. I loved playing, it was as crucial as eating, breathing and fucking. I loved unleashing it all on stage, loved letting it all go and giving it to my fans. I loved being at my boys backs, on my own pedestal looking out over the crowd who cheer and scream for another song. If they only knew what it did to me to see them out there every fucking time.
Tonight was about me playing for myself. I needed the peace that came from being in here alone and letting it out. The rage, the fear all of it would release if it killed me. I needed my composure to handle it all, to let it all go. My dad and his dying was all I could take, or so I thought. Cassa was pregnant with my baby, getting beat daily, almost murdered and every mother fucker I know kept it from me.
The anger hit, my blood pumping and my pulse in my ears I found the song to start my set for warming up. I only warmed up with fast tracks that were hard hitting. If I didn’t know the song, I sure as fuck did pretty fast.
I started hard and fast the way I liked it. Playing along with my music in my ears. 'Face Down' byRed Jumpsuit Apparatuswas a fitting song for the anger pushing through me. I followed along, playing my set along with the music in my ears knowing the words and knowing why I chose it. Every symbol, every kick to the drum, I felt the hits myself, I saw her lying face down, saw her after she had finally had enough.
By the end of the song, I wasn’t even close to done and let the next song on my play-list start me off…andoh fuckin yeah, there it was. The sweet spot was always when I felt the song in my blood, felt my arms moving at their own volition without my brain guiding them. It had become second nature to play and follow the beat.
