Page 18 of Rock Me

“Shut up. She likes my little pouch,” Brad pouts, rubbing his flat stomach. Truth is, none of us have bodies any woman would have much to complain about. God gifted us looks and talent in place of brains and maturity, it seems.

Marius follows them into my room, his arms full of food and magazines and flowers. Just as they have been every single day since I’ve been here. Not a single day missed. Like I said, thank you, God.

“Thanks for helping, wrinkled ballbags!” Marius pants, dropping everything onto the couch while the other two wrestle on the floor by the foot of the bed.

“Uh, what’s for lunch, I’m starving,” I tell him, the room already filling with delicious smells.

“Crispy pork belly roast with creamed spinach and caramelized carrots.”

“Ugh, yes. Thank Emily for me, Brad,” I say, prodding his leg with my foot as Sebastian straddles over him, digging his fingers into his sides.

“Oi, gerroffmeassole,” he yells to Seb, who finally lets him up. “How’d you know it wasn’t me who cooked it?”

“’Cos it’s not frozen fries heated up in the bag in the microwave. With bonus still frozen crunchy bits,” I say, shuddering remembering some of his gourmet endeavors.

“Ah, yes. My signature dish,” he beams proudly, and picks off a carrot from the container and pops it into his mouth.

“The girls would be here but they’re doing some promo for us at the WKZ station,” Sebastian says, laying down on my bed, shoes propping up on the blankets and all, making himself at home.

“Oh? What kind of promo?”

He pauses and then continues, like he regrets having even brought it up. “Um, just for the… you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, because we had to cancel the tour, they’re just doing some of the interviews we had lined up. We pre-recorded some stuff, so they’re just going to do the intro and answer some questions.”

Ah. That’s why he hadn’t wanted to go into detail. They’ve done a lot to shield me from the PR shit storm of me first getting hurt, and then having to cancel concerts and public appearances. Right after winning the Grammy no less.

“You guys should’ve gone,” I tell them, not for the first time.

Marius waves my words away, “Nah, we had better things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like have lunch with you, mushroomdick.” Brad grabs the remote and turns the TV on, flipping the channel to sports.

“Well, technically, they’re all kinda mushroomy,” I defend my own dick.

“Not mine, mine’s majestic…Wanna see?” Marius offers, moving his hand to his belt buckle.

“NO!” We three yell in unison, and he pouts, moving his hand away. Truth is, Marius is a bit of a nudist, and we’ve all had our fair share of run-ins with naked him in the decade of living on tour buses and hotel rooms in which we’ve been together.

Sebastian obviously is thinking the same thing, “I think we’ve all seen yours enough times to never need to see it again, and to know the only thing majestic about it is how it’s still attached considering how much you tug on that thing. So, use your hands for something useful for once, you’re on feeding duty today,” he says, handing Marius a fork.

I shake my head. “Er no, not him, thanks, you do it. I don’t want to think about where his hand has been.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and grabs the fork, stabs a piece of pork and lifts it to my mouth. I take a mouthful and crunch down.

It really is delicious. At least there’s that. Even if I have to have it fed to me like a fussy toddler.

The room goes quiet for a few minutes as we tuck into our food. It won’t last long though; as soon as their stomachs are full, the loud fighting and banter will start up again, until one of the nurses will come in and kick them out.

And quiet will ensue.

And it’ll just be me again.

Me in my white room.