Page 65 of Ravaged By Lust

And screw his non-apology. And that smug look he gave me in defiance.

I walk straight out of his place and don’t stop. I sprint, holding my guitar case in both my hands, towards the nearest bus stop. I’ll get a bus back to Gary’s and never come back.

I hate being like this. Having to do this. But I have too much respect for myself. I’m not going to hang around a guy who isn’t prepared to even acknowledge the pain in the past between us. Who openly looks at me in surprise when I even mention that he once hurt me.

Bishop says that I’m jeopardizing my career because I want him to apologize for the way he treated me? Well, if that’s the case, then maybe I should just get on the next flight home.

And I should. Los Angeles is not where I want to be. It’s all over. I shouldn’t have even entertained the thought of Bishop coaching me. It’s impossible.

On the other side of the road, I see my bus pull up at the stop. I yell out for it to wait and dart across the road, but my foot hits the curb and I go flying.

And so does my precious guitar.

As I tumble to the road, I watch the guitar in absolute terror as it flips out of the case and straight below the wheels of a passing truck. I wasn’t thinking when I left Bishop’s place. I didn’t lock the case properly.

And now I stare from the ground as the guitar I’ve had practically all my life gets completely destroyed right in front of me under a speeding vehicle.

No, no, no, no.

26

CHLOE

“And, for the second time in one day, everything in my life went to complete crap,” I say as I stab my carrot, ginger, and apple juice with a paper straw.

“Well, you’ve stuck it out this far,” Gary replies, sighing. “Maybe you should keep going.”

I scoff. “How can I keep going when I have no guitar?” I ask.

Gary raises his own straw up to his lips. “That’s true.”

It’s the morning after the whole failed Bishop practice. When I woke up this morning and told Gary about what happened yesterday, what with the first crazy meeting with Mickey Miller, then whatever the hell went on with Bishop, and then when the truck ran over my beloved guitar, my host decided to buy us takeaway juices and to sit down and talk about it in his living room.

“Can anything get worse than this?” I ask the man. “I have nothing left. No guitar. No career…”

“Why don’t you ask your brother for money if you’re so broke you can’t afford a guitar?” Gary suggests.

“Because I’m very stupidly boneheaded about something like that. I’ve got too much of a.. thing to beg my famous brother for money. I made a secret promise to myself when Ravaged took off that I wouldn’t rely on him for anything.”

“Ah, right,” Gary replies. “Very noble of you, even if it is yourself kicking yourself in the butt.”

“Well, there’s nothing I can do now,” I sigh. “As I’ve said, it’s all gone to crap.”

“Oh, Chloe…”

“Thank you for letting me stay, though. You’ve got a really lovely place, and you’ve been one source of light in a city like Los Angeles, so thank you again, Gary.”

“What are you talking about? Having you here has been an absolute joy. I’ve met a real-life famous person.”

“Two, technically. If you count Bishop.”

“I’m not counting that man.”

I smile. “Thanks, Gary. You’re the best. I’ve got to pack up and go home now. I’m so sorry for having messed you around.”

“Don’t be sorry at all,” Gary says. “We better stay friends, girl. I can’t believe I’ve had someone to stay who is as goddamn funny, smart, and talented as you.”

I smile at him before I drink the rest of my juice and head to my room to pack. Now that my guitar is completely smashed, there isn’t much for me to actually put away.