Page 96 of The Comedown

“Why are you trying to hurt me?” I told her myself I’m a liar. That shit ain’t new.

“You’re trying to hurt me!”

“You started it!” I yell back, instantly feeling so dumb I almost take it back. She did though.

“You were supposed to be different, Julian.” She paces, shaking her head, like she’s talking to herself, and if she hadn’t used my name, I’d think she was. Suddenly she stops to face me, and shouts, “I thought you were more!”

“More than what?”

“Him!” Her face turns red, and she looks around like she’s worried he might hear.

“That suit?” I question openly because I don’t give a fuck if he hears me talking about him.

“Suit?”

“Yeah, the motherfucker you brought around right after you shoved your tongue in my mouth. What? You couldn’t wait ’til I finished my set to get your clit sucked, Collette?” She didn’t know I’d be keeping her onstage tonight. She planned ahead. I just don’t know how far ahead. Was it before or after she tongued me down in the kitchen of her bus though? Because neither option works for me.

Another fruit is chucked at my head—a peach maybe—but I bat it away, fully expecting it now.

“You have no idea who that is, do you?”

I cross my arms over my chest, biting my tongue. I didn’t get that good a look at him. I saw Collette’s reaction to him and that was enough for me to hate him.

“Does the name David Yonko ring a bell?”

“Your producer?”

She nods, turning to approach the river’s shoreline.

That’s how he knew the song my label tried to bury by not giving any money to its marketing budget whatsoever. His job is to know and memorize and make music. His whole life is music.

How was I supposed to know that was him? I’ve never seen David Yonko before. He’s a legend in this biz, but he’s a faceless legend because he’s a hermit.

Or so I thought…

What the fuck is he doing here, watching Collette perform in the boonies?

I go over and stand next to her. “Are you fucking him?”

Her eyes on the fast-moving water in front of us, she asks, “Why would it matter?”

“Because I’m a jealous fuck.” Which I’ve also been pretty fucking upfront about.

“If that were true, you wouldn’t keep all those people on your bus. They’re remoras, Julian. They’re going to take everything from you because you’re okay sharing everything with them.”

I remove the chain around my neck, sidearm throwing it into the river. It doesn’t skip like a stone though, just makes an audible ring of bubbles on the surface where it sinks.

“They can have it.”

“You could’ve made your point without throwing away thousands of dollars’ worth of diamonds,” she says nonchalantly, and I almost scoff. Didn’t she throw a couple grand of my money out the window to prove a point?

“Those weren’t diamonds. It was fake. It all is.” I shake my head. “I don’t give a shit about that stuff.”

“What do you give a shit about?”

“The only thing I’m not okay sharing. You.”

Collette doesn’t say anything and neither do I until I repeat, “Are you fucking him?”