Page 57 of Revel
“Yeah, but still. Drummer boy blew that dude right out of the boat.”
I laugh, and it hurts so bad. “You’re being careful, right?”
Her eyes find mine. “You mean with protection?”
I raise my eyebrows.
“I know what this is, girl. I mean nothing to him but a good time and you know, I’m fine with that. He’s fun and exciting, but I can’t expect a guy like him to find a girl he hooked up with on the road as a soul mate.”
“You never know though.”
“I’m not taking it to heart.”
“Okay.” I pat her knee. “I better shower.”
I TRIED TO STAY AWAY
REVEL
I have a lot on my mind I want to say. Toher. To everyone. I still want to fucking kill Hardin. It seems I’m vulnerable to everything around me because of her. Normally I wouldn’t care. Weakness claws at me. I hate the way she controls me. It goes against everything I am to not be the one in control. I fuckingdespiseit.
“I don’t mean to bother you,” a woman says next to me, smiling, a camera in hand.
“If you don’tmeanto bother me, then don’t.” I don’t want anyone talking to me today. I’d prefer to be left alone for days, actually. Not here, at a fucking photo shoot, surrounded by everyone I can’t stand. I’m practically naked and wearing what looks to be a loincloth, and though you know I prefer to be naked, it’s not me being stripped of clothes that makes me angry.
It’s her with her nipples covered in stickers and wearing a nude-colored bikini bottom. Everyone around here can see her fucking tits, and though I have absolutely no claim over her, my mind thinks otherwise.
Liz approaches me, anger-lit hazel scowling at me. “Can you please be nice for the afternoon?”
I lift the cigarette in my hand to my lips, drawing in a breath, then letting it out. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
Liz rips the cigarette from my hand. “There’s no smoking here, and you just told the editor ofRolling Stoneto basically fuck off.”
I chuckle, running my hand through my hair. “My bad.”
She points to Hardin. “What happened last night?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh.”
“The tour managers want to talk about you guys performing a duet on stage every night of the tour.”
I’ll admit, as soon as I invited Red on stage, I knew where it would go. Did I want to continue performing with her? I didn’tnotwant to, but I couldn’t say for sure. “I refuse to discuss anything with you, or them, or fucking anyone unless you give me back my cigarettes.”
She pushes me forward toward the set. “Later.”
I’ve never enjoyed photo shoots. I don’t like my picture taken, which is why none of our covers have our photograph on them. I don’t see the point.
Liz walks away, and I’m left standing alone until Cruz finds me. “Dude.” He slaps his hand over my shoulder. “Can you believe that shit last night?”
I stare at him as though I have no idea what he’s talking about. Certainly he’s not talking about Red getting herself off while I watched, me jerking off in her bathroom, and then talking to me until five in the morning, or is he? Nah, he’s talking about Hardin, and I play the oblivious card. “What shit?”
“Hardin giving her a fucking molly,” he says, keeping an eye on Tinkerbella in the corner trying to adjust Red’s nipple covers discretely. Or maybe he’s checking out Red. I wouldn’t put it past him either.
It’s when he says the word molly that an unwelcome feeling wraps around my chest.
The photo shoot is a game of choreographed Twister. Not to mention we’re naked and it adds an interesting dynamic to it. It’s a lot of look over here, move your hand there, smile this way, now don’t smile. Which I’m good at. I’m good at it because do you notice who has his hands on Red?
