THE BROKEN MUSE
KASH
“Thank you!” I shouted into the microphone, listening to the crowd roar and cheer as the music lingered just enough to tease them. The stage lights flickered and flashed. It was so fucking hot. Sweat rolled down my face, smearing the stage makeup I always wore during performances. I wiped my forehead, breathing heavily into the microphone while I smiled. The nearby sound of squeals caught my attention. I turned to see my girl, Twila, bouncing at the side of the stage. She was cheering, clapping her hands together as those red fucking lips of hers curled into the brightest smile. Such a beauty. Without hesitation, I motioned my hand, waving her out. Her brown eyes sparkled, and she ran to me. I immediately gripped her neck as her head tilted back and led into a devouring kiss with my tongue. She kissed me back, and the crowd ruptured.
God, they fucking love it when I bring her on stage.
Motley hit the cymbal and the crashing sound vibrated across the stage. My eyes bolted to him, and I sucked Twila’s lip beforedropping it free. “Let’s give it up for our drummer, Motley!” His eyes seared back at me while he drummed a quick solo, the red spotlight highlighting his sweat drenched muscle shirt. His body was ripped and toned, covered in various tattoos that branched across his chest and arms. He finally broke eye contact, banging his head to his solo as his drenched, shaggy hair swayed with him. He had dyed it neon orange for tonight’s show, but between the heat and sweat, the color was streaking down his sun-kissed face. He looked like a fucking god.
Motley smacked the cymbals with his drumsticks, ending his solo, and the crowd shouted. I grinned at his smile and raised the microphone back to my mouth. Twila drug her hands across my opened shirt and bit her lip. “Oh, we’re not done yet, are we, babygirl?” She shook her head with a laugh. “We’ve also got miss red-hot Carmen on the electric guitar!” A blue spotlight shot to life while Carmen, dressed in the tightest leather halter top and chaps, shook her voluptuous brunette hair and strummed her electric blue guitar. She played a dazzling solo, her fingers moving fast. The crowd went wild, chanting her name as she continued. She strummed the final note, hanging onto it as she spun around with the biggest smile. I shook my head at her enthusiasm. “Ever the rebel!” She ended the note and raised her arms high, blowing kisses to the crowd. “Easy tiger.” I spoke to her through the microphone. Carmen laughed, flipping me off as Motley hit his drums in a playful manner. Twila giggled against me. “Yeah, yeah. Show offs!” We all laughed.
Twila gracefully pulled at my guitar strap. I looked down at her and carefully removed the instrument. A magenta spotlight fell over us as she situated herself and beamed with excitement. “Ladies and gentlemen!” I stepped back, dragging the microphone as she stood center stage. “The lovely, enchanting, blonde bombshell goddess you all know and I personally love—” I placed my hand across my chest as she blew me a kiss. “Twila!”Her dainty finger played a short and sweet melody as everyone listened. Carmen crossed her arms, seemingly impressed, while Motley shook his head.
Twila finished and covered her mouth, her cheeks burning bright red. I rushed back to her, grabbing my guitar. I kissed her head, and the whole stage ignited with sparks and flashing lights. “My name’s Kash, and we are The Broken Muse!” I shouted, raising my guitar high into the air. “Goodnight!” The band behind me played one final note and the lights cut. The crowd screamed and shouted as I stood there, breathing heavily and fueled with adrenaline.
Another fucking rad show.
My ears filled with the sound of the crowd, drowning out all other noise as I grabbed Twila’s hand and ran off the stage. A few people tossed things onto the stage, as they usually did after a performance. But today, I noticed a rose. Quickly, I snatched it up and ran after the rest of the band. We collectively walked backstage down a long hallway.
“Great show tonight, everybody!” our band manager, Ducky, greeted us. He was dressed in a stylish brown suit, wearing his silver-lined glasses and ascot hat. His salt and pepper beard was kept short and clean, much like Ducky himself. He was always dressed sharp and elegant, almost like he was from another time. Ducky wasn’t his real name, obviously. His real name was Gregory or some shit, but he always insisted we call him Ducky. So we did. Truthfully, he looked more like someone who should be organizing books in a library, not managing a drug addicted band of rockers under thirty. But nonetheless, Ducky was kind and respectful. He never failed to make us the best deals, ensuring we got paid for our gigs and not screwed over like our last piece of shit manager. He was like the dad none of us ever had. “No meet and greets tonight. Why don’t you allcall it a night and head home—get some rest before rehearsal tomorrow?”
“The night is still young for us. Little late for you to still be up, isn’t it?” I teased. Ducky shook his head. His dark skin tone clashed with the chipped paint of the hallway. “Ahh I’m only kidding!” Twila laughed as she clung to my unbuttoned shirt. I caught Motley’s gaze as he eyed us closely.
Carmen crossed her arms and nodded towards the rose in my hand. “Looks like someone got lucky tonight.”
I lifted the rose to my nose and inhaled the strong aroma. “Not nearly as lucky as I will be tonight,” I mumbled under my breath, staring back at Motley. My fingertips twirled the stem, breaking focus as I looked down at Twila. “Isn’t that right, babygirl?” I grazed the soft petals along her heavily blushed cheek. She burned red with excitement.
Ducky cleared his throat, directing all our attention back to him. “Well then.” He adjusted his suit jacket. “I think we’ve all had enough excitement for tonight.” He clapped his hands together. “Why don’t you all head back to your dressing rooms, and I’ll meet you out back. Miss Twila”—he offered his arm out to her like a true gentleman—“will you be a doll and walk an old man out?”
She giggled softly, taking his arm. “Why of course, Ducky.” She flashed me a wink. “You better watch yourself, Kash. One of these days, Ducky and I might just run off together!”
Ducky chuckled to himself. “Oh Miss Twila, I’m afraid those days are far behind me. My poor old heart couldn’t handle a spitfire like you. But having a beautiful young woman such as yourself looped around my arm sure does put an extra pep in my old step.” He playfully giggled, making Twila laugh some more.
I shook my head as Carmen tried not to laugh. “Take care of my girl, Ducky. And Twila?” I brushed my hair back. “Try not to give the old man a heart attack. He’s the best manager we’vehad. Can’t afford to lose him.” Twila stuck her tongue out at me. I scoffed playfully and watched the two walk away.
Carmen twirled a strand of her curly brown hair. “Alright boys, as much as I’d love to stay and play, Momma has to get back to the hotel or else my little José will drive the nanny batshit crazy!” She pulled a cigarette from between her bulging breasts. “Hey, Motley. Got a light?” He turned to look at her, whipping a small lighter from his jean pocket. Carmen exhaled a small cloud of smoke. “Uh, sometimes I feel like having this kid ages me. I might not look it, but damn, I feel as old as Ducky.” Ironically, Carmen was about the same age as me. Only she was a parent. And you would never guess it by looking at her.
Motley smiled at her. “Nah, you’re just tired after tonight’s show. Go home and be with your son. We’ll take care of things here.”
Carmen took another hit of her cigarette. “Night, boys!” She placed the butt between her lips, handing Motley her guitar. “I’m getting my shit and taking off. And Kash? Play nice.” Her hips rocked as she walked down the hall and raised her hand in a peace sign. “See you two tomorrow!”
Play nice. Ha.I don’t bite…much.
Motley and I sat in silence for a bit. “Well...” He broke the tension. “I guess I’ll take Carmen’s guitar back to storage. We both know she’d kick my ass if I didn’t make sure it was safe and secure. Aside from José, this thing is practically her baby.” A very true statement.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I need to put mine up as well. I’ve lost one guitar too many.” Together we walked down the hall and turned the corner, finding the double doors that led to the storage room we used for our instruments. Motley pulled out the key and unlocked it as we stepped inside. The fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered to life. We both made our way to the back of the storage room, to a dark corner tucked behindthe countless large, towering storage shelves as if they were a maze. I placed the rose on the shelf before carefully securing my guitar in its case. Motley did the same with Carmen’s, our backs to one another. My fingers snapped the locks shut before speaking. “Tonight’s show was a real—”My body was forcefully spun around, my spine slamming into the metal shelf as his hot lips slammed into mine. His brazenness nearly took my breath away as I stood there, staring back at him, our mouths locked.
Motley almost appeared to be glowing under the lights, like a bronzed Grecian god sent to torment me here on earth. His entire body was ripped and rock hard, pressing firmly against mine in all the right places. And despite playing on stage for the last couple hours and being drenched in sweat, he smelled divine.
Fuck me.
His mouth moved from mine, grazing my neck. “I don’t like it when you bring her onstage,” he whispered against my skin. “It makes me...burn.” He growled the word, and my skin prickled. Motley’s hand gripped my face while his tongue glided across my cheek. He nestled his face close to mine, his heavy breath mirroring my own. His free hand grabbed the front of my studded belt and yanked my body closer to his. My dick ached as I fought my urges, gripping the edge of the shelf with all my strength.
Oh fuck. Control yourself, Kash. Anyone could walk in and see you.
Motley’s breath danced against my ear, and I shivered. “Go ahead and pretend you don’t like this.” He pressed his blatantly hardened dick against my thigh. I couldn’t help but to gasp as my own grew with excitement. I could feel Motley’s lips curl into a smile as he whispered into my ear, “That’s right. Gasp for me, little songbird. Sing me your praise.” He kissed my neck, hishand reaching beneath my jeans as he began to stroke my shaft. And just like that, he fucking broke me.
I ripped his hand from my jeans and spun us, slamming his body back against the metal shelf. His ocean blue eyes stared back into mine. My tattooed hand squeezed his neck tight as I grappled with my identity, wanting to do nothing but lose myself in his beauty. But I couldn’t. Not here. Motley simply looked back at me, fully comfortable with my temper. He even fucking grinned—the seductive little tease. I ached for him and wanted him so badly. Bad enough, I was sweating from the trembling struggle of my self control.
