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Authors: Lana Davison

BOOK: Don't You Remember
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Johnny was officially a millionaire. He told his mother he would pay for her rehab and then buy her a new house if she managed to stay sober. She dismissed the offer. Johnny reminded her it was an open offer but she would not see a penny while she remained in her current state; she would only drink the money away.

Johnny bought a top floor penthouse apartment in Manhattan, New York, close to Central Park. It was the type of living space he had dreamed about – he was now officially living the dream. Johnny hired an interior designer to get the apartment right, leaving her in charge of everything while he was away on tour. The space was masculine with lots of reds, browns and charcoals. A large inviting sofa to sprawl on divided the living space from the kitchen and Johnny had a projector size television mounted to the wall.

Johnny would be on the road for a good year promoting Johnny Cromwell and The Fuel Injectors. They would write songs when they had time and try and have some down time. Touring was tiring, but necessary. Johnny began to drink beer on tour, even though he was wary of drink, given he’d watched his mother waste away. He was not one to feel under pressure by anyone, he just decided it was easier to have a beer than to tell everyone why he didn’t drink. That would open up his past to others and that was unacceptable.

In Boston, Johnny and The Fuel Injectors performed three sold-out shows and, after the final gig, Michael and a few other people from Hunter Management welcomed a few pretty girls in the audience to come back stage and meet the band.

Back stage was full of random corridors leading off to various rooms. Johnny and the band shared a large room together, similar to a living room, but with no familiarity, no photographs, no pictures.

After the gig, Johnny entered the large open plan room where his band members and management team were hanging out. There were some new groupies this evening and they all became very excited when they saw him. He smiled at his fans. He didn’t always like the attention but tonight he would enjoy the company of the girls and go with the flow. Why not? It wasn’t like he had anything better to do.

Johnny grabbed a beer out of the fridge and sat down on a large single black leather armchair. Soon two girls perched on either side. The after party was just getting started…

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

Taking on the traineeship at the paper was the best career move I could ever have made for myself. I had turned nineteen and was well and truly into my work life feeling very much a part of the team. I was given responsibility and was learning at the same time. My mentor was a lady called Susanne who had started her career the same way as I had.

Susanne would let me write part of her articles; then we would discuss what I had written, what she had written and the differences. Susanne encouraged my writing and told me not to be afraid of criticism because, at this stage in my career, it was only constructive. She reminded me that I should always be true to myself and that not everyone would be a fan of my writing. If I knew these few core details I would never have any problems.

I really admired Susanne; she was everything I hoped to become, except that she had never moved on from Pittsburgh. I had a plan to move on to another state at some point, not because I didn’t like Pittsburgh, I just wanted to see and experience more. My need to travel came about when I was asked to write about holiday destinations. I had begun to develop a desire to travel and see more of my own home country and also the world. Best to see your own backyard first, my father would say.

I had started going out with Luke. He was persistent with his affections and, even though I still thought about Johnny often, I came to reason that he had moved on and that I needed to do the same. Luke was a wonderful partner; attentive and responsible, he wanted to please me and to take care of me, not that I needed taking care of.

Luke went to University in Pittsburgh during the week and lived on campus, but came home most weekends. We spent our time going to bars, mingling with many of the kids we use to go to school with and meeting new ones. I wasn’t a big drinker but enjoyed a beer or two. I always feared I would turn out like my mum, so I stopped drinking before I lost control.

I had my hair cut into a short pixie style. I could carry it off with my facial bone structure; defined cheekbones, and small nose. I bought myself some tailored trousers for work, which I paired with a smart feminine work shirt. I occasionally wore skirts but felt more comfortable in pants, trousers and jeans. Everyday I put on make-up for work, believing it made me look older than my years and therefore more professional. I sat my driving license test and passed and began to save for a car. My life was moving forward in all the right directions.

Going out with Luke meant I would ultimately have to sleep with him. My relationship with him was important to me. I would have been happy keeping Luke as a friend, but I knew he was starting to get annoyed at our lack of intimacy. I unintentionally compared him to Johnny, hating that I still held a candle for him. I wanted to forget him, but I just couldn’t.

Luke loved me and when we were intimate I felt like an actress. I was unable to give all of myself due to have been hurt so badly in the past. I was messed up because I was still in love with a man that was no longer in love with me. I knew in my heart of hearts that Luke would never be more than just a boyfriend, I didn’t love him and I didn’t think I ever would, but I fought my opinions telling myself in time I may feel differently.

Since Luke had moved away for school, his parents had decided he was of an age where he needed his own space and had given him the room above the garage which was once used as an office for his father. Luke’s parents put a mini kitchen and a toilet and shower room in the flat and he had all the privacy he wanted while still benefiting from living under his parents’ roof.

Most Saturdays I would meet up with Luke at his house and we would end up in his room having sex. Our sex became very routine and expected. In his room we would lie on his bed and start kissing. Luke would gently move me onto my back and undress me quickly, undressing himself hurriedly straight after. We would pull back the covers and dive under. Luke would kiss me using it as quick foreplay and then put his erection inside me and push until he was completely in. He worked his body pushing his lower body up and then down, closing his eyes enjoying the sexual pleasures I provided. Making love to Luke was not an easy and natural occurrence, but I always thought we would gel in time. Practice makes perfect – while that was true enough, Johnny and I had needed no practice, our love making had been perfect from the beginning. I did enjoy the sex but it was much more on Luke’s terms than mine. It was just different and I would have to educate Luke as to what I did and didn’t like, otherwise how else would he know? Luke tried in his own way to get me to come through sex, but we hadn’t quite got to that pinnacle point of pure mind blowing explosion that was the only way I knew how to describe my orgasms with Johnny. It wasn’t a difficult task for me to arrive at – there was only one fundamental problem with having sex with Luke, he wasn’t Johnny. It was yet another comparison I had inadvertently made.

 

*****

My year at the newspaper was finally completed and my traineeship was officially over. I was employed as a reporter and covered local stories about issues with the local residence and the police. Sometimes it would be as lame as someone receiving a speeding ticket for going 5km over the limit or, worse, I even covered a story about flowers being picked from someone’s front lawn. The headline read: Flower Garden Thief at Large.

I didn’t feel I had built up my portfolio sufficiently to move on yet, so I would remain in Pittsburgh covering these diabolical stories until the time was right. Besides, I couldn’t complain, for the first time I was on a proper salary and was putting money away for a rainy day.

The newspaper articles I was assigned to write presented little in the way of a challenge so, to keep my interest in writing going, I began to start writing stories. I bought myself a Commodore computer and sat in my room night after night writing, eventually trying my hand at writing a novel.

I mainly wrote thrillers or detective stories, using my knowledge of science to help me put together the forensic detail. I became completely absorbed in my new found hobby and less interested in Luke. We remained friends but our relationship came to a natural conclusion just before my twentieth birthday.

Johnny’s career was going from strength to strength. His band was the biggest band to hit the charts in a long time. I watched from the sidelines, somewhat happy for Johnny, somewhat saddened that I would never be part of his life again. I still held him responsible for ending our relationship, annoyed at how he did it. He took the sparkle from my eyes and broke his promise to me. I would never forget how that feels.

I learnt to live without Johnny, but the problem for me was that I truly loved his music. I bought it all and listened to it religiously, occasionally wondering if any of his new songs were written about me. Especially the slow song ‘Nothing is What it Seems’. While I knew it probably wasn’t about me, I liked to think from time to time it was, because the words perfectly explained how I felt.

By the time I was twenty-two, I had made a significant amount of money saved up and was well and truly ready for a change in my life. I decided to send my CV to recruitment agencies and also forwarded it onto a few selected newspapers in the hope that I could become a serious journalist. I thought about going abroad and travelling a little but had no clue where to go. I was unable to get a break with a major newspaper for a long time until, suddenly, I received a phone call from The Times New York. I was interviewed over the phone and hired immediately with a start date of four weeks. I was going to move to New York – yikes!

 

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

Johnny woke up to the sound of pouring rain in the company of a redhead he had met the night before. He turned over and thought about Jen; he wanted to touch her, to see her smile, to show her he had made it. He tossed and turned and wished the redhead wasn’t in his bed. He felt nothing for her.

Sleeping around was just something he did these days, like any rock star. If Jen had been here it would be different, he would never look at another girl again.

Johnny got up and walked to the hotel bathroom, naked. His body was firm and fit, just as it had always been. He placed his hands on the sink, looked directly into the mirror and took a deep breath. He picked up a clean glass and rinsed his mouth out with water. Taking a towel from the rack and wrapping it around his lower body, he walked to the mini bar, took out a bottle of water and drank it down in one.

Last night Johnny had enjoyed a few beers but remained in control. He always recalled the events of the evening and usually had a drink to relax and unwind after a massive gig. It went well last night. He still got that feeling in the pit of his stomach before going out in front of an audience, but once he got into it, it was the best feeling, a euphoric rush. He had this way of getting the audience involved, by making them sing along with him. Everyone was having fun, and that was what the tour was all about, making sure the fans were having fun. Michael or someone else from Hunter Management always arranged an after party, inviting a few choice girls they selected themselves. When Johnny attended the girls would flock over to him like a piece of bread amongst the pigeons. His fans would tell him their undying love for him. He would politely laugh and reply by telling them that he loved his fans too.

The redhead in the bed rolled over and felt for Johnny. She lifted her head up and opened one eye to see where he was. “Come back to bed,” she said, patting the empty space.

“Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got things to do,” Johnny replied, walking to the bathroom and turning on the shower. He wasn’t going to kick her out, he would just leave. This is the way he had to leave things, it was easier – no expectations, no delusions.

He showered thinking about his schedule. They had two more States to tour and then he would rest in his apartment in New York for two months before heading to the UK, Europe and then Australia. It was a grueling tour, but necessary.

Johnny finished his shower and changed into a pair of jeans and a plan white t-shirt. He turned back to the redhead girl and noticed she had gone back to sleep. Great, he thought, I can slip away. And with that he left. It was Hunter Management’s job to make sure the girls left without any problems.

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