Convincing Constance (The Blow Hole Boys) (14 page)

I was the worst kind
of asshole and liar. I knew that. Every time I snuck a pill without Constance seeing, I hated myself. I wanted to quit for her. I wanted it more than anything else, but I really hadn’t realized how addicted I was.

Part of me wanted to go to her and tell her I needed help—
apologize for lying to her and get her to understand, but the addict in me wouldn’t let me. He was a vile piece of shit that put drugs and the way they made me feel ahead of everything else.

I was the happiest I’d eve
r been, and still, I couldn’t let the pills go. Lies never end well, and just like I knew it wouldn’t, my lie didn’t stay a secret for long.

A month after Constance’s mom passed, the boys and I started going to the studio to work on our new album. It was stressful and the cooler weather was starting to set in, which made the pain almost unbearable some nights.

I’d gone from sneaking one or two pills, to downing a handful like I had before I made my promise. The fifth night we were laying down new tracks, the pain became too much. My thighs and hips ached and the skin around my scars felt as if it were on fire.

Pulling out my baggy, I emptied a handful of pills into my palm and chased them with a beer. I didn’t remember much after the pills kicked in. And when I woke up in my bed with just my boxers on and alone, I couldn’t even remember how I’d gotten there.

I sat up in bed and my head swam, making me feel nauseated.

“Fuck
,” I said as I covered my eyes from the bright sun.

“Yeah, fuck is right
,” Constance said from my side.

I didn’t want to look.
I knew when I opened my eyes, Constance would be there looking down on me with pain in her eyes.

Looking up at her, she was exactly as I expected, except her eyes were red and puffy from where she’d been crying all night. I sat up completely and grabbed at her thighs to bring her closer.

“Come here, baby,” I said playfully.

She smacked my hands away and shook her head.

“Don’t call me that.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

I knew I was as good as caught, but I couldn’t for the life of me admit to her that I’d lied. I wanted to drop to my knees and tell
her how badly I needed her to help me, but my pride kept my ass planted to the bed.

And then I opened my mouth and said something that I knew was the wrong thing to say. “No.”

“Liar,” she whispered and her voice broke. “You’re such a liar.”

I had to say something. I had to fix this and make it better, but the only thing that came out of my mouth was, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I stood and walked to my dresser to pull out a T-shirt. I couldn’t look her in the face. It was wrong and it hurt so badly, but I knew I had to keep lying if I wanted to keep her.

“I’m talking about the stash of pills in the top of your closet. I’m talking about the fact that you came home so fucked out of your mind last night that I had to stay awake and make sure you were breathing!”
she screamed. “How could you do this to me? You promised. Everyone I love chooses drugs. You promised.” I looked up to find tears rushing down her cheeks and my heart broke so hard a sharp pain cut across my chest.

I’d done that. I’d made her cry. She deserved so much better than me. Especially since no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop taking the pills. Maybe I didn’t love her enough. Maybe there was someone out there that could love her so much they
’d do anything for her. I wanted to be that guy, but I just couldn’t.

“You knew what you were getting into when you got with me.”

And then I was doing it. I was pushing her away. I was saying exactly what I knew would make her run from me, and I hated myself for it.

She stared at me with her mouth gaped open, and then she moved until she was standing right in front of me.

“What the fuck is your problem?” She dug her finger into my chest. “Who do you think you are?” She was getting loud again.

As sick as it was, it turned me on. I wanted her to punish me. Dig her fingernails into my scarred flesh until I bled out all the anger and addiction that pumped through my veins. And then I snapped.

“You’re my fucking problem!” I yelled back.

And then I was on the move. I couldn’t take it. I needed a pill. It was my weakness and I knew the minute she walked out of my door I didn’t want to feel anything. I knew her leaving would cause the worst pain I’d ever felt and I wanted to prepare.

I dug through the top of my closet and found nothing.

“Where’s my fucking stash? And don’t say you didn’t take it because you’re the only one who even knows it exists.” I turned on her.

The blood behind my eyes was starting to throb with my heartbeat. She had me more pissed and hurt and turned on than I’d been, ever.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about
,” she said calmly as she crossed her arms and looked away.

“Fine, you want to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. How about I show you?”

I pulled her close to me and she thrashed about, not giving in, fighting harder than some men.

“Get your fucking hands off of me, Tony. I’m not playing. I’ll beat your ass like no man ever could.”

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed sarcastically. “I’d like to see that. What are you going to do? Talk me to death?”

It was heated. The room felt twenty degrees hotter just around us. I was turned on and pissed off and I wanted to take it
all out inside of her.

“Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?” I finally asked.

It was obvious she was trying to torture me—turn me inside out and leave me more broken than I could ever be.

“You need help
,” she whispered.

“Don’t tell me what I need! You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me.”

It was a lie. She knew me better than anyone else ever had. She knew and understood the darkness inside of me. What she didn’t understand was the sickness of addiction that lived in me as well.

“I know you have a problem. And I know you know it, too. The guys look away, but if they really cared about you
, they wouldn’t.” Again, a tear streaked down her face and another part of my soul broke away.

“No you have it backward. I think the guys look away because they care about me. They know I need it. You’re not looking away. What’s that say about you, Constance? I think it means you never loved me.”

My way of thinking was totally fucked up, but at that point, I was just talking out of my ass. I was so mixed up and technically still fucked up from the night before.

She stopped everything and looked up at me with big
, hurt eyes.

“It says I’m a stupid fuck
-up,” she said.

She leaned over under the dresser and grabbed my baggy. Tossing it into my chest she stepped away from me.

“There’s your precious stash. I hope it’s worth me and your life.”

She walked to the door and picked up her bags that I hadn’t realized were already packed, and then she stepped out of the room
, shutting the door and stopping my heart from ever feeling anything but anguish and pain.

“Okay. Try it one more
time,” Jazz said as she adjusted the amplifiers and pressed the record button in front of her.

She sat and twirled a long black braid and nodded her head to the music. Jazz was a professional through and through when it came to music. The girl knew her shit when it came to the business. I remembered being so excited to work with her since I knew she worked with the best. I had no idea then that we’d become great friends.

We were wrapping up recording our second album, and I was proud to say I’d written most of the songs. I’d been the lead guitarist for Red Room Sirens, an all-girl rock group, for three years, and we were just starting to enter the scene. I wasn’t fond of being recognized in the streets, but it was all part of the job.

The year after I left the condo of sin, otherwise known as the home of Blow Hole, was the hardest year of my life. I was depressed and miserable. I lived in more places than I had in my entire life. I crashed on couches, stayed in shitty motels, and slept in the back of my car more than I’d like to admit.

Gary Steele stayed true to his word and got me a few gigs here and there, but nothing that paid anything decent, but it was enough to put gas in my car or get a decent meal. I was thankful for that much. I went from replacement lead guitarist of one of the hottest bands around to no one, just like that.

When Gary approached me about putting together an all-girl rock group, I jumped all over it. Mostly because I needed the money, but also because as much as I hated to admit it, I missed being on the stage. I missed the adrenaline that worked through my veins when the crowd went wild over a solo I played. It didn’t help that every time I even picked up my guitar, I thought of
him
. Maybe being in a band made me feel closer to the person that I’d spent the last four years of my life missing.

There were still times when people asked about my time with Blow Hole, but I’d always blow off the questions and find something else to talk about. Four years later and I still couldn’t even say
his
name, much less talk about our time together. It’s amazing how someone who only played a brief role in your life could alter you so completely. Tony altered me in good ways and bad.

Lena, the lead singer of Red Room Sirens, screamed into the mic. She had one hell of a set of pipes on her, and I loved how easy she made it look. The guys in the crowd always loved her. She had the body of a goddess and a smile that put the stage lights to shame. She would shake her long, dark hair and stare the crowd down with her big brown eyes, and they were done.

I picked up the backup into my mic, matching her rhythm the best I could. I had never tried singing, but as it turned out, I wasn’t half bad. I even sang lead on a few of our songs. It was a fun change from the guitar, but nothing that I’d do permanently.

After that take, we were sure we had it.

“That’s it, girls. You bitches rocked too hard today,” Jazz said into the speaker as we started to pack up and get ready to leave. “I’ll get it over to Gary and the guys. I think we’ve got gold this time around.”

“I’d say. I thought my fucking hands were going to fall off. I haven’t played the drums that much since I was a wet-behind-the-ears clit licker,” Hope said.

Hope was all the colors of the rainbow, and from week to week, her hair matched her sexual orientation. She reminded me so much of Chet. She had no filter whatsoever and swung any which way her twat would take her. At least that’s what she’d say if you asked her. Men, women, cucumbers, I’d seen it all, sadly, and some of that shit you just couldn’t un-see.

Her unique style is what made her stick out the most. The girl would wear just about anything and didn’t give a shit who liked it or who didn’t. My favorite thing was her shants—pants and shorts combined. There was nothing like seeing her walk around with one leg covered and one not. It worked for her, and everyone loved her.

After we finished at the studio, I drove back to my one-bedroom apartment and drowned out the sounds outside my car with Three Days Grace. Playing guitar for the Sirens made it possible for me to afford it. It wasn’t the extravagance my dad was used to, but it was plenty enough for me.

As soon as I walked in the door, I kicked off my boots and stripped down to my tank and shorts. I barely made it into the kitchen before my cell started to ring. I had to search through my jeans’ pocket on the floor. Lena’s name flashed on the screen and I answered it.

“Hey, what’s up?” I said into the speaker.

“Are you ready to have your mind blown?” she said.

I could hear her smile through the phone.

“Yes. Blow me, baby.”

I pulled open my refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of water, and leaned against the counter to down it.

“Gary called. Music Line just announced the line-up for Rock Across America.”

Rock Across America was a huge tour that included all the hottest rock bands at the time. Being a part of RAA was a big deal—a really big fucking deal. Rock Across America meant the world to me.

“And?” I said with anticipation.

Lena was silent on the other line before she broke into a squeal.

“And pack your shit because we’re in, baby!” she screamed into the phone.

I almost dropped my cell and water shot from my nose.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I screamed back.

“Oh my God, Constance. We’re going to be playing alongside Savage Will, Lester’s Lullaby, Blow Hole, Revenge Rites, and a bunch of other kickass bands. Can you believe it?”

And just like that, all my excitement faded away. My hands became sweaty and my heart dropped so hard I lost my breath. The bottle of water in my hand slipped and crashed to the floor in slow motion. It bounced against the tile before a ring of water began to surround it.

“Constance? Are you there?” Lena asked.

I hadn’t realized she was still talking. Once she said the name Blow Hole, I stopped listening. Everything sounded as if it were thousands of miles away and in a tunnel.

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“You should be way more excited about this.”

I went from lounging against the counter to using it for support. My legs just weren’t doing the trick anymore, and I was worried I was going to fall flat on my face.

Going on tour with Blow Hole—with
him
—was the worst thing that could happen to me. I had to think of a way to get out of it. I wasn’t sure I could do it. I wasn’t sure I could be around him without either falling into his arms or ripping his eyes out. I hadn’t decided which I wanted to do more.

“No.” I swallowed. “I’m excited, but do you think Rock Across America is a good idea right now. I mean, we just finished our newest album. Maybe we should talk to Gary about doing our own tour.” My words sounded idiotic even to me, but I had to at least try.

“You’re joking, right?” Lena’s excitement died. “Rock Across America is bigger than anything we could ever do on our own. No way can we turn this down. Snap out of it, Constance. I’m calling the rest of the girls. Let’s meet at JJ’s bar tonight to talk about it more, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you there.”

I ended the call and set my cell on the counter. The room around me felt different—altered. It wasn’t my sanctuary anymore, now that their name had been spoken inside its walls. Now it was a prison of emotions and I felt like I’d been given a life sentence. The windows were shrinking and the walls were moving in on me.

Being a part of the RAA tour was the best thing for the Sirens. It would put the word out about us and help push our new album into best-seller categories. My own emotional baggage aside, we couldn’t turn down the opportunity, which meant in a few weeks I’d be face to face with Blow Hole—face to face with Tony. Just thinking about it made me nauseated.

One thing was for sure; I wouldn’t fall back into his trap. No matter how badly I longed for his arms around me. No matter how lonely I’d been over the years, and no matter how much I thought of him. He was worse than drugs, and I wouldn’t fall back into him. Never again.

A few weeks later, I
was stepping aboard a red-and-black bus with the name Red Room Sirens scrawled across the side in jagged cursive font. Just like the Blow Hole bus, there was one big room in the back and bunks that led the way down the slim hallway to the room. One big difference in our bus and theirs, which made me insanely happy, was the size of the bathroom. Ours was twice the size of theirs, thankfully.

The tour was starting in Seattle, which meant we had a few days before sound check, and I had time to get myself ready for what was sure to be an extremely awkward situation.

“Does Finn look as hot in person as he does on the front of this CD?” Mia asked.

Mia was our bass player and also Lena’s little sister. Where Lena was tall and sexy, Mia was short and cute. They were raised in a strict Baptist family. Each could play any instrument you handed them and both could sing. They were a force and a damn good addition to any band.

“Finn’s married, you know?” I filled her in.

“Yeah, I know, but a bitch can dream.” She laughed. “I just want to lick him all over.” She did a quick shake like she had the chills.

Since Finn had been more like a big brother to me, her talk and actions were kind of gross.

“Well, don’t dream too hard. It’s never going to happen,” I said dryly.

“What about Tiny? Umm, those big hands and the way he would just tower over me.” Mia licked her lips. “And to think, you got to see that man play bass up close. Lucky whore.”

I didn’t feel very lucky. In fact, I felt like the most unlucky person in the damn world. Like, broken mirrors under ladders unlucky.

A lot had happened since I’d last seen the boys. Not that I was keeping up with them or anything, but it was kind of hard to
not
hear about what was going on with bands I knew when I worked for the same record label. I’d heard that both Zeke and Finn had gotten married. Both had children and one on the way. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe all the guys in the group had changed their ways. Maybe since Zeke and Finn were being all domesticated, Chet and Tony were, too.

I smiled at my own thoughts. Chet would never settle down. That was one guy that would die single, and Tony was too… Well, he was too Tony. It wasn’t that he would never settle down. It was that he had to find a girl who was okay with coming second to pills. Considering who he was, I was sure he’d find someone like that, no questions asked. If he hadn’t already. But I wasn’t going to apologize for wanting more.

The first night sleeping on the bus was the hardest. I didn’t even fight for the big bed in the back. Instead, I squeezed my tall ass into a bunk that was made for short bitches. I spent the night trying to stretch my legs out. At one point, Hope face-planted into my leg in the middle of the night when she got up to take a piss. She wasn’t too happy about that.

The ride from Los Angeles to Seattle felt like it took ages, but before long, we were pulling up to the first venue. It was a big coliseum with smaller venues connected.

I pulled on my black Converse and slid into my hoodie. Covering my head with the hood, I stepped off the bus and straight into light showers that were coating the windows.

It was gray in Seattle. That was the only way to describe it. Gray and dreary, which strangely matched my mood perfectly. Rainy day Mondays always got me down, especially when there was a chance I was going to run into the asshole that took a big shit on my heart.

I tried to look on the bright side of things, and the bright side was that at least we were playing at an inside venue. Plugging in, in the kind of weather Seattle had to offer, didn’t sound like sunshine and roses. I wasn’t up for that shit at all.

“Hey, Constance, wait up!” Hope called from behind me.

She ran up to me with her drumsticks in hand. She rarely went anywhere without them. Her yellow boots sloshed through the shallow puddles outside the bus. She had her hood up as well, except her jacket had no sleeves, allowing everyone to see the artwork on her arms.

“Where you headed?” she asked.