On top of that, it seems as though romance is in the air. It’s unconfirmed which bandmate the Rock Princess is entertaining, but according to those who frequented the establishment with them, things started feeling a little steamy. We’ll have to keep our eyes peeled to see who’s hooking up with who!
“They were magical together! I really hope she dates one of those men because they’re fine AF!” -anonymous
“The onstage chemistry was HOT!” -anonymous
“I can’t tell which one she’s with, but there was some serious sexual tension in the air.” -anonymous
“The guys are so lickable, but I have to say the girl onstage had me rethinking my sexuality. Her stage presence and thatvoice. Ugh. It was everything.” -anonymous
And there you have it, folks. Our very own Rock God’s little princess is back and she’s all grown up. I can’t wait to see what she has in store for the world!
Chapter Nineteen
Ainsley James Dylan
Sundaysareusuallyoneof my favorite days. Most people consider Monday to be the start of their week but I don’t. Sundays are the perfect day to start your week off right. In the mornings I get all my laundry done, clean up my house, do some meal prep for dinners on the nights I don’t work, as well as brown bag some basic necessities and food items for those in need. After that I catch up on any assignments that I didn’t finish while my tutor-students work on Saturday mornings. Then I work a short lunch shift atMia Poplettaand spend the early evening passing out the bags I’ve made earlier that day to the homeless.
Today is no different. I may be on team no sleep, but I cannot let the things that happened once again derail my entire day. I’m going to feel like shit either which way so I might as well pick the lesser of two evils and give back a little.
Last night was probably for the best. I needed the reminder of why I don’t need to involve myself with those guys again.Reckless Sin, they call themselves apparently, and how appropriate that is. When I got home, I obsessively researched them. Totally unhealthy, of course but my manic brain wouldn’t shut off until I knew everything about who the men I gave my heart to have become.
They essentially became an overnight sensation with the announcement of Viper’sWe Own the Worldtour. All it took was some leaked footage of our old covers and some staged photos of the guys to the tour's social media page. The band’s promotional team set them up with a whole slew of new social pages dedicated to Reckless Sin, which skyrocketed in followers immediately. It doesn’t take much with a few well timed professional pictures of five insanely hot men and dropping a couple of single releases of their equally insane talent. Add in the fact that they’ve teamed up with one of the most steadily famous rock stars on the planet to go on a world tour, and boom! Instant success. I find it a little ironic that the boys are becoming everything we dreamed of. They’re actually a little behind on our original timeline, likely due to my absence, if everything they want from me now is anything to go by.
My avoidance of anything to do with my dad really fucked me with this one. If I’d given even half a damn to look at the constant promo adverts for the tour, I’d have seen them clear as day. My ignorance hurts.
Thinking back to the day I blew my dad off not that long ago, I remember how he’d hinted that he wanted to talk to me about something but I was such a snarky bitch, he dropped it. What if this is what he wanted to talk to me about? The guys said they wanted us to be together, sure, but they’d also said they wanted us to be a band again. They took things even further by trying to manipulate me last night with the karaoke bar.
Reminding me of how much fun we have together, my ass.
I pull my phone out of the pocket of my lilac T-shirt dress and pull up my text thread with my dad. I write, then delete, then write again, but the reality is, I have no idea what to even say. What a terrible realization that I have no clue how to talk to my dad anymore. So long ago, I told him everything and now the thought of even sending a text is basically my own version of a nightmare.
What is wrong with me?
Deleting the text, I pull up Apple Music and set it to shuffle before pocketing it once more. When the music filters through my bluetooth speakers, I close my eyes and lose myself to the eclectic mix for a few songs then get to work on my routine tasks for the day.
When Eminem’sLose Yourselfcomes on, I let the words flow like second nature, the song resonating on a level that makes no sense. It both hypes me up and makes me instantly feel guilty for those trying to climb up the ladder from nothing. I’ve got all these opportunities and I’m squandering them, for what? Because I’ve got daddy issues? Because I’m afraid of letting the boys in and then possibly losing them all over again? Because I’ll feel selfish for loving them?
How fucking broken am I that I can’t accept that my own happiness is just as important as those around me. I care about people so deeply that I’d do anything in my power to help them. I keep everyone at a distance because I’m so terrified that I’ll ruin them with my own damage and hurting people is the last thing I want to do. What’s the cost though? I’m so alone. I don’t follow my dreams, choosing instead to hide behind a production board, if only to stay connected somehow.
And worst of all, I miss my dad. I miss him so fucking much. If I reconnect with him though, I’ll feel like I’m choosing him over my mom and she doesn’t deserve that. What if I open back up to him and he abandons me again? He can’t very well cheat on my mom again now that they aren’t married, but the betrayal would still cut deep.
I feel like a crazy person. All this back and forth. This should I, shouldn’t I. Am I pissed or scared? What the hell is happening to me? I had what I thought was a good thing going and now I just feel guilty, lost, confused, and so god damn sad.
A knock sounds at my door, so I snap out of it and answer. I should have expected it when I open the door to Ezra and Phoenix, but my brain feels more like scrambled eggs these days than it does a functional and vital organ, so here I am staring bug eyed with my mouth agape while Eminem raps about seizing the moment, owning it.
“Can you still spit rhymes like Shady, Ains?” Phoenix asks, laughter in his eyes. He knows how much I studied different lyricists and rap artists back in the day. I went through a phase where all I wanted to do was become one of the greats. I practiced all the time to make my flow seem effortless. The truth of it was that I never had enough grit. My parents weren’t always around, but I got everything I ever wanted from them because my dad was famous and we could afford it. It’s sort of hard when you compare yourself to these people who’ve really lived through something that left a mark on their soul like that.
“I don’t know, wanna come in and find out?” I open my door wide, allowing them access.
The jerk knows he owns the title for best rapper in our group. His beatboxing skills are flat out unmatched. His rhythm and ability to drop a beat at any given time is stupid, he’s so good. For such a shy kid, he really sold himself short a lot of the time because he had talent on talent on talent. His parents missed out on a really cool kid, and I guess in a way, so did I.
“What’s Em’s hardest song of all time?” Ezra asks.
“I mean,Godzillabroke records, but Slim spit like eighty or ninety words in twelve short seconds on Niki Minaj’sMajestyor some shit, not to mention his dope ass collab with Logic and a bunch of others. And those aren’t even considered his hardest or fastest songs,” Phoenix responds, smirking at me knowingly.
“Damn, I can flow some lyrics but I can’t do that,” I laugh. “You guys didn’t come all the way over here for a rap battle anyway. What’s up?”
“You didn’t answer your phone all night. We were worried.”
