A Tragic Heart (23 page)

“Lucky you. All your dreams have just come true,” Jackson says, being sarcastic.

I guess I can say things went better than I predicted. It’s nice to have Jackson back in town, even if it’s only temporary. Maybe things are starting to look up.

Peyton

I
wait for Taylor to get ready so we can hurry up and go to Jackson’s show. I guess maybe she’s trying make sure she looks appropriate to be the sister of a rock star. Whatever the case is, I’m getting frustrated. “Taylor, what is taking you so long?” I yell from the living room.

“I’m coming now!” she yells in annoyance, since this is about the fourth time I’ve asked in the last ten minutes. By the time she finishes, Jackson’s show would be over.

I look out the oversized window adjacent to the doors that lead to my balcony. This place is beautiful and way too elegant for a seventeen-year-old; but I can afford it, thanks to my mom’s will. I had to fight like hell to get it, since the owner felt that I that was too young. But I know what I want and I take it.

“Ready,” she says from behind me.

All of my frustration goes away when I turn around and see her. Everything about her looks so inviting—a little too inviting. She wore that dress to Mason’s party, before they started dating; but for some reason, she looks even more desirable now. Maybe that’s because she’s actually mine this time around. I can think of her however I want, and there’s a possibility that my fantasies will come true.

“You like it?” she asks, smashing my trance into a million pieces and turning around so I can admire every inch of her.

“Y-yeah, um, black is really your color,” I say, staring like it was the first time I’ve seen her.

She’s wearing the classic “little black dress” with black high heels to match. The color helps bring out her green eyes and light skin. Suddenly, I don’t mind being late to Jackson’s show. “Uh…how about we stay here for a bit and go to Jackson’s show later? I mean, we’re pretty much late anyway,” I say in a seductive voice.

“Hmmm, not going to happen, Peyton,” she says, grabbing my hand and leading me toward the front door.

It was worth the shot, even if I did fail.

***

The show hasn’t started yet, thankfully, but there are loads of people inside the building. I didn’t know Jackson had so many fans already. For a second, I imagine that all these people are here to hear me and my band play. I can only hope to make it as far as Jackson has. He has a song that’s already receiving radio airplay. It’ll probably start selling big pretty soon. It just amazes me that he’s come this far on his own and created a decent fan base before signing with a major label. Now that he has, I know he’s going to do great.

“Yeah, Jackson, we’re here,” Taylor says into her phone. “Where? Oh. Okay. We’re coming soon, then.”

“He says it’s this way,” she says, pointing to the right.

As we make our way to the back, we see Jackson with his guitar in hand, holding the door open for us.

“Put these on,” Jackson instructs, handing us two all-access passes.

“Man, it’s crazy out there,” I say to Jackson, who’s now looking at himself in a mirror on the wall.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve seen it, and there’re probably more people out there since last time I checked,” he says, running his fingers through his hair.

“Are you nervous?” I ask.

He turns to face me as he fixes his guitar strap to fit around his shoulder. “Yeah, a little. But it’s good to be nervous before a show—at least, for me it is. I just turn it into raw energy, and once I get going there’s no stopping me,” he says. Then he says something
I don’t expect. “I heard you have a band also. I’d love to hear you guys play sometime. Who knows, if you’re any good, I may put in a good word for you. Remind me after the show to introduce you to our manager. I’m sure he can help also. He did get us where we are today.”

“Cool. Thanks, Jackson,” I say in disbelief.

“No problem. I always wished I had someone to help me and the guys get started. It would’ve made things a lot easier,” he responds.

“Yeah. Well, you’re here now, so it all obviously paid off.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Jackson says. Then he looks over my shoulder. “I see Taylor and Matt reunited,” he says with a little bit of disgust in his voice.

I turn around to see Taylor smiling and talking to Jackson’s bass guitarist.

“Reunited?” I ask, still looking at an unquestionably flattered Taylor.

Whatever he’s saying to her, she obviously likes it.
And I don’t
.

“Yup. Taylor never told you? She and Matt dated until we went away on tour. They took a break and planned on getting back together when we returned, but Taylor found Mason, and you know the rest. Matt was a little hurt by it, but he quickly got over it once he learned the perks of groupies.
At least I think he’s over it
. I really don’t care, since I find the whole thing to be gross. Thinking of one of my best friends with my sister just makes my skin crawl,” Jackson says, revealing something Taylor obviously never wanted me or Mason to know.

“Oh,” is all I could conjure up to say.

“Guys, you’re on in five!” the stage manager shouts.

“Hey, I’ll talk to you after the show,” Jackson says, touching my shoulder.

***

Tonight is the night I dream harder about making it with my band than any other night I remember. Seeing Jackson perform is just confirmation that I was born for this. During the show, Taylor
stands next to me and grabs my arm, letting me know she wants to be close to me. I can’t help myself, so I have to ask. “You and Matt, huh?” I say, letting her know that I know.

“Not now, Peyton,” is all she says.

I let it be for the time being, I don’t want to start a fight on one of the most important nights of her life. Being that it’s important to Jackson, I know it’s important to her. Besides, she looks so enticing in that dress; I’d be a fool to start a fight with her.

“Great show,” I say to Jackson when the encores are finally over.

“Thanks,” he says, wiping his face with a towel. “Those lights are super hot, though. I thought I was going to pass out.”

Just then, he sees his manager passing by, talking on his cell phone.

“Hey, Mitch! Get over here,” Jackson shouts across the room.

Mitch holds up his finger to tell Jackson to hold on for a second. A few seconds later, he is standing next to Jackson, who is sitting across from me. “What’s the problem, Jackson?” he asks. “This kid has so many problems and objections,” he says to me in a joking manner, pointing at Jackson.

“Hey, I like what I like,” Jackson responds . “But I’m sorry to disappoint you. I don’t have a problem this time. I want you to meet someone. This is Peyton, my sister’s boyfriend; he has a band and I was wondering if you’d be interested in hearing them play.”

“Hi, Peyton,” he says, shaking my hand. “Well, Jackson, that depends. Have you heard them play?”

“Not yet, but my sister says they’re pretty good and she knows talented artists and good music. She’s the one who told us that we were good enough to make it,” Jackson says, looking at me but talking to Mitch.

“Peyton, let me ask you a question. What are you to the band?” Mitch asks me in a businesslike tone.

“Well, I’m their lead singer and main songwriter. I also play guitar and keyboard when needed,” I respond with confidence.

“Multitalented. Nice,” Mitch says, sounding impressed. “If I give you a guitar right now, can you play and sing me something
real quick? Since you are the lead singer, hearing you is like getting a taste of the entire band.”

“Uh…sure,” I say, completely taken by surprise.

Mitch hands me the acoustic guitar Jackson played tonight for his solo on stage. I take the guitar and fearlessly begin playing
A Tragic Heart
, a song that I wrote right after my mom died. It’s a song that I usually get praise for. I just hope that I receive the same reaction from Mitch and Jackson.

I finish the song and the room is quiet for a few seconds. I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, until Mitch says, “That was amazing. Is that an original?”

“Yeah. I wrote it when I was thirteen…it was right after my mom died,” I say, setting the guitar down next to me.

“You’re as good as any musician that just hit that stage tonight,” Jackson says. “It was raw, emotional—”

“Brilliant,” Mitch says, cutting Jackson off. “Peyton, I’d be more than happy to hear you and your band play. And honestly, if I don’t like them, I’d still want to manage you, if that’s okay with you.”

“Well…uh…no disrespect, but I wouldn’t want to leave my band hanging like that. We’re a team, and I couldn’t do that to them,” I say honestly.

“Talented and loyal,” Mitch states. “You know what? We’re here until Sunday evening. Is it possible for you to get your band together so I can hear you guys play?” he asks.

“Um…sure. I think Saturday afternoon will be fine. My bass guitarist will be back in town on Friday. She’s been away for a while,” I say, not believing this is actually happening.

“Dude, your bass guitarist is a girl?” Matt says, walking up to me with Taylor by his side.

Those two have been inseparable the entire night.

“Yeah, is that a problem?” I ask, looking at Matt.

“No, it’s just unusual. How good is she?” he continues.

“She’s awesome, actually. She’s been playing since she was five. She actually got the chance to meet the lead guitarist from her favorite band and played for him. She says he was impressed. We really got lucky with her,” I say, bragging about my band’s only girl.

“She sounds sick, man,” Jackson says, before taking a sip of water.

“Now I’m really excited to hear you play,” Mitch says. “Here, take my card and call me to set up an appointment.” He hands me his business card.

“Thanks. I will definitely do that,” I answer.

“By the way, what’s the name of your band?” Jackson asks.

“Drug Incision.”

“Hardcore. Are you guys hard rock?” Matt asks.

“Uh…mostly pop/rock, emo, whatever you wanna call it,” I reply.

“Hey, do you and Tay want to come to the after-party? I’m going to shower, and then we’re leaving,” Jackson says, looking at his watch.

Before I can answer, Taylor says, “We can’t. We have school tomorrow, and it’s already late. Well…I have school tomorrow. Peyton, here, got lucky and got himself suspended,” she blurts out.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you two are still in high school,” Jackson says, standing up.

“Let me guess: you got suspended for fighting,” Matt says, looking at me.

“Yeah, how’d you figure?” I ask, turning to him.

“The cuts and bruises on your face told on you. Did you win, at least?” he asks, as if we are longtime friends.

“I’d say so,” I answer honestly.

“Well, I’ll see you two another time because I’m about to party with some very
willing
fans,” Jackson says, interrupting my conversation with Matt.

“Ewww, Jackson, you should be ashamed of yourself!” Taylor exclaims.

“Don’t worry, wait until your boyfriend, here, makes it as big as me; that is when you should worry,” Jackson says, punching her lightly in the arm.

“Hey, don’t put me in this!” I say, laughing.

“Well, we should get going now. I’m going to have a hard time getting up in the morning,” Taylor says, getting up from her seat next to Matt.

Matt stands and gives her a long, heartfelt hug and a kiss on the cheek. I don’t like the connection between those two. Call me jealous—and I may very well be—but he still has feelings for her, and it shows.

***

It’s around two thirty in the morning by the time Taylor and I get home. We both go straight into the bedroom to get ready for bed. “How come you never told me you dated Matt?” I finally ask her.

“How come you’ve never told me about any of your ex-girlfriends?” Taylor shoots back.

“You have a point, but none of my exes is a rock star or my brother’s best friend,” I reply.

“Really, Peyton? Are we going to do this now?” she whines.

“Yeah. You were with this guy the entire night and you expect me not to notice? You two were inseparable and you were acting all giggly around him like you still have feelings for him,” I begin, letting my thoughts come out.

“Peyton, that’s ridiculous,” she says.

“Is it really, Taylor? Do you still have feelings for this guy?”

“No! Not at all. We were just catching up on where we left off. Matt is just a friend and that’s all he’ll ever be. Stop being so paranoid,” she says, a little irritated.

“Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just that you never spoke of any exes but Mason,” I continue.

“Wow. Do you really think that I was so pathetic that the only guy I ever dated was Mason Taylor? You really thought that I married the first guy I’d ever been in a relationship with?” she says, sounding disappointed in me.

“I didn’t think you were pathetic. It’s just that I never knew of any guy besides Mason,” I confess.

“Well, now you do. I also dated a guy named Andy before Matt and a guy named Craig before Andy; He was my first kiss,” she adds.

“Oh. Did you love any of them?” I ask, trying to pry into her love life.

“Well, Craig was just for fun. We liked each other, but it never got serious. Andy was a guy I thought I was going to fall in love with, but we only made it to being ‘
in like
.’ Matt was my first love. I never told him how I felt and I probably never will, but I was serious with him. He was my first for a lot of things. I mean, Mason was the one who took my virginity, but Matt was my first for all the things that come before that,” she admits.

“Like what?” I tease, as if I don’t know.

“I’m not going into details. You can figure that one out yourself. Let’s just say that Mason wasn’t the first guy to see me naked, either,” she says, looking me in the eyes.

That makes me a bit uneasy. That explains why Matt was all over her and she still had bright eyes around him. He was her first love emotionally and somewhat physically.

“Does Jackson know about that part?” I ask.

“No way. I would never tell him that, and neither would Matt. I’m only sharing it with you because you’re so concerned. I probably would’ve told you eventually, since we are in a serious relationship. Jackson thinks Mason was my first love. I’ll just let him continue to think that. There’s no need to bring up the past,” she says.