“Fuck!”I kicked the microphone stand as the speakers filled with the static feedback. Everyone stopped playing and grabbed their ears as the sounds screeched throughout the stage. Ducky quickly scuttled to the crew and shouted as they rushed to turn the microphone off. Carmen and Motley shot me a look as the sound finally halted.
Carmen made a face. “Damn, Kash! I’m already going deaf from our shows. I don’t need your fucking help moving that process along!” She gave me a sarcastic smile, but I was in no mood to fuck around. “Jesus. Who pissed in your cereal?”
I sat on a nearby speaker and grabbed my head. “Sorry, I just…I can’t seem to fucking get my shit together.” A growl rippled through my throat. “I’m off my game today, that’s all.” Lies.
Carmen walked over to me and spoke in her mom voice. It was the same one she used when she spoke to her son to comfort him. “Hey. What’s going on with you today? Huh? I don’t meanjust now, but all day? You’ve been off key and mixing up the tempo and words all rehearsal. What’s going on with you, man? Is everything okay?” Carmen rubbed my back, the same thing I watched her do with her son many times over during his little tantrums.
Great, now Carmen is mothering me like a fucking child. Way to be mature, Kash.
I shook my head as I held it with my hands. “I’m just tired. That’s all.”
Carmen wasn’t stupid. She could tell I was lying, but she also was the kind of person who wasn’t going to press too hard. “Fine. Have it your way, hotshot.” She stood with a huff. “Hey, Ducky! I think we’re going to wrap this up for the day!”
Ducky snapped his head in her direction. He then raised his arm to look closely at his watch before tapping it loudly enough that we could hear his nail hitting the glass face. “We still got an hour left! Time is money! And if this rehearsal is anything like your upcoming performance, you guys are going to need that hour!”
Carmen chuckled to herself and looked back at me while she shouted back to him. “Yeah, well, our lead singer seems shot for the night. Besides, we can just pocket that hour and pick it up before tomorrow’s rehearsal!” She slapped my arm and walked over to the old man as they began to discuss tomorrow’s rehearsal. Fucking Carmen. The last thing I wanted to do was stay another hour, let alone come to rehearsal early tomorrow.
Motley twirled his drumsticks and approached my side. He kept his eyes on Carmen and Ducky but spoke down to me. “Tired, huh?” I grunted a nonverbal response, and he scoffed. “So, either you're lying, or someone else visited your bed last night.” I looked up at him and noticed a cocky little smile plastered across his face. “And we both know it wasn’t Twila.”
I’d almost forgotten about Twila. She hadn’t come to today’s rehearsal, not because she was mad or upset, but because she was packing her things and moving into her own motel room. After everything that happened yesterday, I returned to the motel to talk to her. We had an emotional heart to heart, and I opened up to her about everything. I laid my exposed soul at her feet, and she welcomed it with a smile and an open heart. Twila wasn’t only accepting of Motley and me, but she encouraged it. I had to explain why it was more complicated than that, telling her the reasons we had to remain a secret. I didn’t tell her about Guy. No, that wasn’t my secret to share. That was purely between me and Motley. But she knew everything else, and even after hearing all my fears, she agreed to remain my girlfriend. Not really, just in the public view, to protect my relationship with Motley. I was completely taken aback by the offer, and told her I needed to talk to Motley about it, which I did. We all agreed to keep things the same as they had been on the surface, but in private, I would finally get to spend my nights next to Motley. Which I did. Twila’s only request was that no matter what, we remained close friends. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. I loved her, now more than ever, and that would never change.
I sighed. “It’s not Twila. And I’m not tired from anyone, ass.” Motley grinned. “I’m just…worn out. That’s all. This tour’s been harder than I expected, and the whole thing with the three of us just has me mentally drained. I can’t focus.” That was a lie.
What Motley didn’t realize is that before rehearsal, I had bumped into a cop. Not just any cop, but the very same from the campsite. The one who locked eyes with me as we drove away. He was on his way out of Ducky’s office and just happened to run into me. It was unnerving enough to see him, but the man didn’t just walk on by. No. He took the opportunity to ‘accidentally’ bump into me, enough so that he knocked his own pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Reluctantly, I picked them upand returned them. I tried to escape without muttering a word, but he was smarter than that. He thanked me, by name, and then proceeded to ask if I had a light. The question felt off and weird. I stood there and tried to figure him out before eventually responding. I told him no, and the man fucking smiled. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way he smiled, or the unnerving and gnawing thought that I had somehow just given him exactly what he wanted. It bothered me. So much so, I couldn’t focus during rehearsal. I had so many questions it made me sick to my stomach.
“Kash?”
I snapped my head up and looked at Motley. “What?” Did he say something?
Motley blinked before he exhaled and shook his head in annoyance. “You need to get some sleep. Why don’t you head back to the motel? I’ll take care of things here.”
I shook my head as I stood. “Doesn’t matter. It won’t make one fucking difference.”
Motley eyed me and stepped closer. “What’s going on with you?” he whispered to me. “Did something happen with Twila?”
“God, can you stop bringing her up? This has nothing to do with her!” I snapped. His face hardened, and we both looked back at Ducky and Carmen. Thankfully, they were too busy to notice.
Motley cleared his throat and cocked his head. “I thought you just said this has everything to do with Twila? All of us, actually. Or were you lying?” Fuck. Motley crossed his arms and clenched his jaw. “No more bullshitting me, Kash. What’s going on? Spill it.” Fuck, I really didn’t want to do this here or now.
“Just drop it, Motley,” I snarled. Motley grunted and crossed his arms and just stood there waiting with no intention of letting this go.
Such a fucking stubborn man.
I took a deep breath and groaned. “Promise me you won’t freak out, okay?” Motley ever so lightly nodded his head and waited. “Ugh. Earlier today, before rehearsal, I ran into a cop.” I waited for his reaction, but the drummer only stood there and looked at me. “A cop from the campsite we stayed at…Where we?—”
“What did they want?” Motley asked in a low tone. I watched him closely and noticed the muscles in his face tighten. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. “Kash,” he groaned.
“Nothing.”
Motley groaned. “Kash.”
“I mean it, Motley. He just—the man bumped into me, and I knocked his pack of cigarettes from his hands. He then asked for a light, and I told him I didn’t have one. Fuck, he used my name. It seemed harmless, but I don’t know. Something in my gut just tells me something is wrong.”
Motley sat on my words for a minute or so. “He asked for a light?”
“Yeah. Fucking weird.” Motley fumbled with his jeans pockets as I watched him curiously. “What’re you doing?”
His eyes widened, and he looked right at me with horror. “Oh fuck.”
