Everything I Want (9 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

We’re all hanging out in Tristan’s suite tonight. Even Frankie is here tonight to support me. When we landed, I texted him and told him what was going on. When I got to the hotel, I worked out, ordered room service, and took another shower to prep me for tonight.

Tristan’s suite is beautiful. It’s this large, open room with a bar and a kitchen on the back wall. It has a marble island with four steel stools in the center of the kitchen area. On the other side of the suite are these tall glass windows with this beautiful view of the Gateway Arch. Couches are set up in a giant U at the center of the living area, with an oak dining table off to the left. On the wall to the east side of the room is a door, which I’m assuming leads to the master suite, and a giant flat screen TV plastered to the wall. I take a seat next to Cory on one of the stools. Tristan comes out of his bedroom, looking mighty fine as usual. He’s wearing light blue jeans and a black long sleeved, thermal shirt pushed up to his elbows, showing off his left arm sleeve. He must have just taken a shower because his hair is pushed back and hanging behind his ears, exposing his whole broad face.

“All right, let’s get tonight happening!” Roger gets up from the couch, making his way over to the bar. “You guys have to have all of the same drinks. No bitchy wine coolers, Jared.”

“Whatever, man. Your mom likes those when I bring them over,” Jared pipes in, rising to his feet and following Roger.

“Fuck off!” Roger says to him and approaches me. “What would the lady like to start with?” Hmm… I know starting with liquor is probably best. You know how the saying goes: “Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear. Beer before liquor, never been sicker.”

“How about seven and seven?” I suggest, looking at Matt, who nods in approval.

As Roger starts making our drinks over by the sink, Tristan stands directly in front of me on the other side of the island and makes himself a drink while talking to Cory. I perch myself up a little on the stool. I feel much better about my appearance now than I did on the flight earlier. I’m wearing a tight black vintage Guns and Roses T-shirt that shows a little of my belly and faded jeans that hug my hips. My hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and for make-up, I just settled on eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. Not too much, but just enough to give me a sexy edge.

“For the lady.” Roger slides my drink down to me.

“Thanks.” I grab it from him and take my drink. Not bad, but Roger did make it a little too strong for my liking. Note to self: have Cory make the next round.

As I’m sitting at the bar, I notice Tristan glancing over at me when he’s talking to Cory with his arms crossed. I decide that I needed to move. I spin around in the stool and scan the room for Frankie. He’s over at the table, sitting and talking to Jared and Gunner and playing with his phone. I get up from the stool and make my way over, and I couldn’t help but feel Tristan’s eyes on the back of my neck as I walked away.

“Hey!” Gunner says to me as I approached the table. His eyes are red, and a lazy smile sweeps across his face.

“So what you guys doing?” I ask.

Jared holds up cards then begins shuffling them.

“Wanna play euchre, Sophia?”

“Sure! I’m in.” I smile to him.

“What’s euchre?” Gunner asks as he scratches his head.

“The best freaking game ever! But we need one more player.”

“Oh, not I,” Frankie says, shaking his head while looking back down at his phone. Jared looks around the room.

“Hey, Matt!” he yells, signaling with his hands for Matt to come over. Matt joins us for a game, and we start to teach Gunner the basics of it. I start off because Jared’s instructions are confusing as hell. I start explaining to him a trump, a bower, and a set. Frankie’s mouth is just wide open in confusion. Yeah, it can be a little difficult at first, but it is a great fucking card game. Gunner is looking at us with the same expression as Frankie.

“So you’re saying a trump is the suits, and bowers are both black and red? Fuck, man.”

“We’ll just start playing, and you’ll get the hang of it. You can be on my team,” I said to him. He agreed and we started playing.

Good time must have passed because we’re on our third drink now and on our second game. Of course, Gunner and I lost the first one, but this game is close by points; and he seems to be enjoying himself. After were done playing that hand, Frankie gets up.

“I need a fucking cigarette! Wanna come out to the balcony with me, Sophia?”

“Sure.” I grab my drink and stand. I hear giggling all of sudden and glance over my shoulder to find three chicks sitting on the sofas. One is sitting on Tristan’s lap.
What the fuck?
I must have been so into the game to not hear them come in.

I follow Frankie out to the balcony. The October air has slightly cooled but nothing like Michigan would be right now. I’m pretty buzzed already, hoping I can get through this night without failing.

“How’s it going, girl?” Frankie says to me, leaning over the balcony. I look through the glass doors and see Tristan. He has that chick on his lap with his arm around her, but he’s staring at me. I turn quickly back to Frankie.

“Well, I could go for another drink. And maybe some weed.” Fuck it! Time to get wasted.

“Lucky for you, sweetheart. I can help you out with both.” He winks at me and heads inside. Moments later, he comes back out with another drink in one hand and a joint in the other.

I lit up the joint and inhaled, holding it in my lungs as I start to feel my head swim a little. Shit. This might be the beginning of the end for me tonight, but I don’t care.

Frankie and I carry on our conversation while drinking and smoking. We’re just jamming out to music from my iPhone. Transistor radio style. Pantera’s “Cemetery Gates” comes on; and I swear, closing my eyes, I can literally feel the music on my skin.

“Want another round, sweetheart?” Frankie asks me.

“Mm-hmm,” I say to him, keeping my eyes closed while leaning over the edge of the balcony. The breeze feels wonderful.

“Okay, doll. Be right back.”

Standing out on the balcony, Pantera is done playing and the next song that comes on is Metallica’s “Bleeding Me.” I love this! Drinks and good music are all I need. I feel the coolness of glass press on my arm. I jump a little from the shock and getting ready to slap Frankie for his little joke when I realized it was Tristan, standing there beside me looking down with his dark eyes and holding my drink. I take it from him slowly, just staring at him as I take a sip.

“How you doing?” he asks with his deep voice.

“I’m doing” is all I can manage to say.
Shit!
Why do I always get like this when I’m around him now? I’m turning into some kind of fucking pussy when I’m drunk.

We stand there in silence for moments ’til he breaks the ice again.

“Matt’s going strong still, but I don’t know about Jared. We might be able to get this bet.” He takes a step closer to me, causing me to back up on the railing. I’m kind of trapped now. I stare up at him as he looks down at me. He places his arms on each side of the railing beside me, trapping me in; and a slow, cocky smile starts to play on his lips as he dips his head closer to mine. I can feel the heat of his body on my very own now, and I can smell the cologne and whiskey on him. It’s a very intoxicating mixture. My head starts to instantly feel heavier.

“You know, Sophia. If all that you wanted was to sleep in these kinds of rooms, then you don’t need to do this. My bed is always open to you if you just ask.”

What the— I raise my left eyebrow up at him and give him this dumb look.

“Excuse me?” I say to him, trying to back up even more but can’t due to the railing that’s already digging into my back.

He leans in even further, his face only an inch away.

“You fucking heard me,” he whispers. Instantly I’m wet. Fuck my stupid, traitorous body. How can his arrogance turn me on? I quickly shake it off on the inside.

“What the fuck is wrong with you dude?” He backs up a little with a cold look on his face, but I keep going. “Seriously? Your talking shit one minute then the next, you’re coming on to me? Please!”

“Fuck you, bitch!” he says, fully removing himself from me. Good. I pissed him off.

“I’m not one of your fucking groupies that you can toy with, so you might as well go back in there and continue what you were doing.” I gesture toward the suite and the chick still sitting on the sofa. He doesn’t like what I just said because now he’s back on me.

“Sophia—”

“Fucking shit! So much snow going around in there you’d think it’s a fucking blizzard!” Frankie comes barging out. Thank God!

Tristan turns on his heel quickly and leaves.

“Um… What the fuck just happened?” Frankie asks, pointing his finger over his shoulder at Tristan.

“Motherfucker thinks I’ll drop my panties for him.”

“Ooh! Don’t you hate it? That the sexy as hell ones are so damn conceited? Shit!”

I give him a “whatever” look and he stops me.

“Don’t go there, girl. I know it’s only a matter of time before you two fuck. Whenever you guys are in the same room, you can cut the sexual tension with a butter knife. That’s how tender you two are.”

I look at him, but then I burst out laughing. What did he just say to me?

“No. Frankie. Never going to happen.” Shaking my head, I finish my drink. “Come on. I need to kick Matt’s ass now.” I grab his hand and lead him back into the suite.

Once inside, I’m sick. Tristan has this girl straddling his lap while he sits on the bar stool, but really, that’s not what’s bothering me so much. It’s Cory doing a line on the coffee table. I stomp my way over to him.

“Hey!” I say, but the music is so fucking loud that I can’t even hear myself say it. “Hey!” I yell again in his ear and push him. “What the fuck, man?”

Cory wipes his nose and sniffs real quick.

“Calm down. It’s only one hit. I don’t say shit to you.”

“That’s because I smoke pot! Not shove shit up my nose!”

Cory glares at me and stands. “I need another beer. You want one?”

He’s changing the subject on me now. I shake my head no at him, glaring as I do. Cory just leaves me standing there while he walks away.
What the fuck?

“You okay, girl?” Frankie asks.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m ready for shots now.”

“Okay?”

Frankie and I go over to the sink, which is right by Tristan and his whore. I call Matt and Jared over.

“Ready, fellas?”

They smile and nod while Frankie starts pouring our tequila shots. I just can’t care right now. I will just have to have a talk with Cory tomorrow. I down three right away with Jared and Matt. Roger is clapping from behind us.

After another few shots, my vision is blurred. My head is dizzy and my balance is off. I’m leaning against the counter laughing at whatever Frankie has just said. Jared looks sick. His skin is pale, and he’s just leaning against the wall. I glance over, and Tristan is still sitting on the bar stool with his whore. Hmm…
That’s nice.
Just then, Warrant’s “Cherry Pie” begins to play through the surround sound; and I’m up on the island in a flash. I don’t know what’s gotten over me, but it feels good. I start swaying my hips with my palms pressed down on the sides of my thighs.

“Fucking eh!” Roger exclaims from the back of the room. Cory’s and Caleb’s mouths are hitting the floor.

I begin to move my body more, keeping my legs together but swaying down and back up. When it hits the chorus, I pull my shirt off, revealing just my black bra. I grab my hair tie and pull it out, shaking my head as I do. Now everyone is watching and cheering me on. I throw my shirt at Frankie and continue on. Halfway through the song, I’m kneeling, leaning back, doing this rolling motion with my upper body, and gracefully pulling myself back up to my feet. Wow! I can’t believe I just did that! Letting the music take over, I run my fingers through my hair and bite my lower lip. I glance down at Tristan. The chick is off his lap, and he’s now standing. His eyes look so dark and carnal; he’s breathing heavier. I love it! I continue to dance and sway my body while flipping my hair like the girls did in the ’80s videos, but all of a sudden, I feel the alcohol start to really take over. I stop dancing just in time before the fog enters. I’m falling and the last thing I notice is Tristan running quickly over to me with his arms out.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Beep beep beep… My eyes open slowly. My room is dark, and the sound of the alarm clock is going off. Noon, it says. Fuck! What happened? I blink my eyes as I reach over to shut the damn thing off. My head is literally going to explode! Why oh why did I do that to myself?

After I shut the alarm off, I laid back down, thankful for the blinds being closed. Weird. I don’t even remember coming in last night. I’m hot and uncomfortable, too. I look down and realize that I’m still in my bra and jeans. I stare up at the ceiling, waiting for the strength to get up and take something for my headache. Damn. I have to be at the arena at two to get ready. How am I going to function? I fucked up last night. I fucked up real bad.

I lay there for a few more minutes then my phone goes off. I can’t even find it. I pull myself up, listening carefully to where I may have put it. It’s on the floor, beside the bed. I lean over and grab it. On the fifth ring, I answered.

“Hel-lo.” Shit! Even talking hurts. I’m so screwed.

“Are you okay, girl?” It’s Cory. I’m so glad and relieved that he sounds okay. From what I remembered, he was on some hard shit last night.

“Ah… I fucking don’t know. I fucked up last night.” I hear him laugh a little.

“You’ll be okay, girl. I’m coming over. Just stay put. I have a key to your room.”

I didn’t even say goodbye. I just pushed end and passed back out.

I feel a cool wash cloth on my head. I flutter my eyes open and it’s Cory. He’s sitting beside me with what looks like a glass of water in his hands. Just then, I realized that I’m in my bra and hurry to cover myself up. He laughs a little and looks away.

“It’s okay, Sophia. I don’t care. I don’t look at you that way. You’re like my sister. Here.” He shoves pills at me. “Try and take these. I will start your shower. I ordered room service, too. We have to leave in an hour.”

An hour! What!

I grab the pills and the glass of water from him and take them. The water is welcoming to me. The cool liquid runs smoothly down my throat. When I’m done drinking the entire glass, I hand it back to him. Leaning back against the headboard, I use the duvet to cover me by tucking it underneath my arms.

“Holy shit! What happened?”

Just then, I regretted asking. Cory’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“You don’t remember?” he asked.

I shake my head. I try to remember. Let’s see. I was pissed at him for doing coke again; then, I was by the kitchen doing shots.

“Let’s just say you would make any rock star proud to have you in their music video.” What the fuck does that suppose to mean?

“Huh?”

“You were giving ’er to ‘Cherry Pie’ on the countertop. Started taking off your clothes and everything. I thought, for a second there, you were going to turn Frankie straight.”

No, no, no! Please tell me he’s fucking with me right now. He must’ve noticed my expression because he begins to carry on again.

“Don’t sweat it. You rocked it! You had every guy and girl drooling in there. You danced amazing. You even beat Jared, but I’m sorry. Matt won.” The guy winning and me losing five hundred bucks was the least of my worries. I danced on top of the counter to “Cherry Pie” stripping! Embarrassment runs through me.

“Everyone?” My voice is only breaking a whisper.

Cory grins and says, “Everyone.”

I roll my eyes. I know I shouldn’t make too big of a deal dancing in my bra. I do that kind of thing when I’m onstage performing. It’s just that it’s different in a more personal space, with a handful of guys around. Oh. My mistake. And a few whores, too.

I start climbing out of the bed when Cory gets up.

“I’ll wait here until your food comes. Just go jump in the shower and eat something. You’ll be okay, kid.”

I nod to him slowly, making my way to bathroom.

The roadies are bustling all around us. I’m sitting off the stage while Lux talks to one of the crew members. I just want to hurry my part along, so I can go back into hiding. It’s bad enough that I behaved like that last night, but getting high fives and whistles from everyone (and I mean everyone) . . . Well, except Tristan, which I’m glad about because; according to Cory, he was the one who caught me falling off the island when I passed out and carried me back to my room. Out of all the people who could have done it, it had to be him.

After another long two hours of going over the sound check and setting up the equipment, we were done. I bend down to grab my water bottle from the stage and hurry my way off the stage. As I was almost off the stage looking down, I crash hard into someone. Losing my balance, strong arms reach out and grab me before falling on my ass. I look up and it’s Tristan holding me tightly to him. He’s looking at me like he’s kind of annoyed. I push myself out of his hold and move around and go into the back. Out of all the people I really didn’t want to see, it was him.

When I enter the back room, I go over to the refreshment table. Picking through the sandwiches, Cory comes and stands beside me.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, getting there,” I say to him. I make my sandwich and head for my dressing room to meet up with Frankie. I know I should let the whole incident last night roll off my back; but right now, I prefer hiding.

Taking a seat, I start eating my sandwich when Frankie enters the room. He’s wearing his black leather pants with a tight red V-neck shirt. His hair is bone-straight and he’s wearing a lot of dark eye makeup. I like how his style is versatile. One minute, he’s looking like his sexy goth self; and the next, he’s wearing slacks and some of the nicest button-down shirts there are.

“Hey, Cherry!”

He waves at me, setting up his station. I blush knowing exactly what that means. I nod to him while taking another bite.

“Some little shindig last night, huh? Girl, you were cra-zy! But I liked it. So much fun.”

I roll my eyes at him. Before the little stunt that I don’t really remember for most of the night, I had fun just hanging out.

“How bad was I?”

I really didn’t want to know.
Yes, I do!

“What do you mean, hun?”

He’s lying out his brushes. I swallow the last bits of food in my mouth and stare at him through the mirror.

“You know… ” I move my hand in the air. “The dancing thing.”

My voice is quiet. He turns around to face me, grinning.

“I always said you were my rock goddess. Last night just proves how badass you are.” He starts laughing, and I give him a “please tell me” look. Now he rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on, girl! You weren’t that bad. You were drunk and having a good time. Shit! It’s not like you were giving away blowjobs to every Tom, Dick, or Harry.” He moves in closer, kneeling in front of me, and continues. “Honestly, you looked great dancing. If there was a camera filming, you would have been way hotter than any dancer that ever did that song. And besides… ” Now he’s only an inch away from me. I can smell the cinnamon gum in his mouth. “Tristan seemed to enjoy the show. Actually, that’s why he was able to catch you so fast.” He pulls away, going back to organizing his makeup again. “He wouldn’t let any of his guys near you. They were getting all excited, and one look from him, they backed off. He practically threw that one chick off his lap when you started dancing.”

I’m now just a little surprised from hearing what Frankie just told me. And I kind of hate to admit it, but I like the fact that Tristan was watching me with interest. But the look I just got from him today seemed to say otherwise.

It’s finally seven, and I have successfully hid from everybody all day. Suddenly, I hear Matt knocking on my door. “Be there in a few. Just finishing up.” I yell to him. Staring at myself in the large glass mirror, I’m wearing what I call my “mad hatter” outfit. It’s a skintight bodiced cami made up of aqua blue nylon and black silk lining each of its sides, with black nylon patches on the bust, too. A black garter belt holds up my sheer, soft black stockings. Frankie did my hair and makeup the same as last time, but now I have a tiny aqua blue mad hatter hat pinned on the top side of my head. Now I’m just sliding on my thigh-length black boots that have little folds down at the top.

I make my way onto the stage, passing by Caleb and Ryan, who stop dead in their tracks when they see me. I take their looks as a sign that Frankie did well. Approaching Lux, I nod to him and smile. Instantly being up here and getting ready to go on, I don’t feel embarrassed or hungover anymore. All that I feel is excitement, and my adrenaline is shooting through the roof. This is what I love, and I cannot wait to go out there.

Roger comes up beside me and pats my shoulder. “Ready?”

He’s smiling and I return the same and answer, “Fuck yeah!”

After our set is over, we all wave to the audience, who are roaring and cheering so loudly. Roger tosses one of his drumsticks off the stage, and Cory shows off by doing a wicked little solo. This is the most amazing thing that could possibly ever happen to me and my band. The rush we get from performing, and the high we feel is insane. And we never want to come down.

When the lights turned out, I start making my way off stage. The roadies instantly begin their work preparing for Undead Society to come on next. They start setting up weathered pillars and working on the fog equipment. The rest of my band decided to wait offstage and catch the next performance, but I was just not into it. The last time I waited around, I was humiliated by Tristan in front of thousands of people. And I’m not going to lie to myself. My behavior last night surely doesn’t help my mood today. I just feel too fucking good right now from just finishing my set that I don’t want my mood to be tainted by any negativity.

Gripping the railing tight, I begin to make my way slowly down the steep stairs. I really should have a decent pair of shoes waiting for me when I get offstage because walking down a few flights of stairs in six-inch heels is freaking me out! A couple steps down, I hear his voice. “Good job tonight, Sophia.” I stop and look over my shoulder and see Tristan standing there on the top landing, looking down at me with one hand holding onto the railing. He looks just like the rocker he is: black jeans on with a white graphic, sleeveless shirt showing off his amazing muscles and tattoos. The way he spoke to me sent chills down my spine. “Thanks.” I do a quick smile at him and turn around, continuing my way down the stairs. I didn’t want to keep standing there for fear that he will see straight through me. Or maybe that he’ll open his fucking mouth up again and ruin the compliment. When I reached the bottom,I hear Undead Society starting. Tristan’s voice rumbles through the arena like thunder once again, sending chills down my spine.

It’s already been five days since our show in St. Louis. We traveled by bus to Tampa Bay then to Memphis. And I’m totally pumped about our next stop, Detroit. I feel like Dollar Settlement will be on home turf there.

Since St. Louis, I pretty much stayed in while the guys went out. We’ve been doing a lot of driving these past few days, but that didn’t stop them from having a good time. They just kept at it after every show. I’m starting to feel a little bad for their poor livers. Roger was always bugging me to let loose again, too, but I would always go back and hide out in the only bedroom in the bus and lock myself in. I don’t want them thinking I’m a loner or anything; it’s just that it annoys the shit out of me when they keep bugging. It’s just better that I keep to myself just for a few more days.