Beautiful Mistake Page 13

  “Oh, a Mojito does sound good. I’ll have one of those,” I told the bartender.

  We were on the deck, poolside, and tonight was the night for hot women. As usual, the weather was mild. Unlike New York, you only needed a light sweater or jacket, and dining outside was still preferable to dining in. As soon as we got our drinks and some snacks we were in the vibe. Everyone was beautiful; it was Los Angeles, and the downtown scene was smokin’ hot. Even if you were ugly you were still beautiful. There were some girls across the pool who were checking us out. Tony was a good looking guy, for sure. With his long dreadlocks and that brown skin, he always ended up with a few women everywhere we went. Like Tony, I nabbed my fair share of the ladies as well. Perhaps it was the tawny hair or the tats or my blue eyes, whatever the reason, I had no trouble attracting women.

  Tony and I drank, and I pretended not to notice them, but he certainly did.

  “So Melody walked out on you. Girls are so unpredictable. What was it, the party?”

  “Yeah,” I glanced over at the girls on the other side.

  “You’re not married to her you know. Buy the girls over there a drink … at least we’ll have someone to talk to. There’s no harm in talking with someone.”

  He was the Devil, but he was right, what harm was there in just talking?

  So I was an idiot. I hailed the cocktail waitress and pulled a classic. I ordered the girls the drinks they had, wrote my name on a bar napkin and invited them to join us and … jumped head-first into hot water. They came over immediately, and that’s how the night began.

  At first, we just talked. They were here from Sweden and were staying at the hotel on vacation. It all was so fun and innocent until we kept drinking and one thing led to another and soon, I found myself with my tongue in the tall one’s mouth. I honestly couldn’t remember her name or what she looked like, just that she tasted like Mojito, and she was very grabby. My cock didn’t mind, but something in my head did. The night progressed; we got drunker. We ambushed the band playing at the bar and jammed with them and Tony took pictures. Later that night I found myself in the tall girl’s room, on the balcony with her drunken hands groping, and I suddenly couldn’t do it anymore. Fuck Tony and his stupid suggestions.

  No, Melody and I weren’t married, but I wanted to try for her. It was kind of a test; could I stay faithful? I almost failed before even hitting the three-week mark. It was then that I realized I actually loved Melody. I loved her so much I didn’t want another random woman ever again. I’d been a complete and total ass.

  “I’m sorry,” I started breaking away from my kiss, luckily that’s as far as we got. “I have a girlfriend. I’m just so drunk. You’re beautiful, and this has been fun, but I have to go home now.” She cocked her head and looked at me strangely, but I could tell she understood.

  “Wow, a girlfriend? Okay. You should go home. Poor girl” was all the woman said as she got up off the chaise lounge and walked back into the hotel room.

  As awkward as it was, I had to follow her in. Tony was in way worse shape than I was and way more naked, with two of the lovely ladies from Sweden. I hated to interrupt all that he had going on, but I did.

  “Hey, I’m gonna head out. Are you good here?” I asked, seeing him naked and erect and ready to launch into whatever they were going to do was strange, but not as strange as I thought it might be.

  “Yeah. Dude, I am so good. Hook up with you tomorrow for the gig.”

  And that was it. I put on my coat, kissed the woman, whatever her name was, goodbye, and walked home … feeling as low if not lower than the dirt on my shoes. I looked at my phone, no calls, no texts … no Melody. I went home and flopped into bed.

  A week went by. She sent me a few texts over the week, most of them saying she was busy, she needed time to sort things out, she would call me someday and we could go out for lunch. I was gutted. I was getting completely and utterly dumped in a “nice girl” kind of way. It was pretty vicious if you asked me. I invited her to a few things and she was too busy and unable to come. It got to the point where I was ready to just kick down her door, but breaking and entering probably wasn’t as romantic as the movies made it seem.

  Chapter 18

  Melody

  It had been seven days and fourteen hours since I started my detox from Sage Harris. I had hated every minute of it and yet the idea of letting him back into my life and trusting him was impossible. I kept going over the scenario in my head, making sure I had made the right choice. I avoided his calls and made sure I was nowhere he could be, including Sinclair and Reyna’s house.

  This abstinence from Sage didn’t mean I was above stalking him. He’d put his song/our song on YouTube, and it was catching fire as we knew it would. People were sharing it and commenting on how amazing it was. It had already gone viral, and I assumed it was on its way to getting airplay. While I didn’t want to seethe with jealousy, I was certainly wallowing in it. I wrote the song that was now a viral hit because I was considering loving him and grappling with the fantasy of what love was. I poured my heart into that song and here it was rocketing to success and … he was out of my life.

  I kept telling myself I was being reactionary and judgmental about one night of hard partying and yet, I’d done this all before with other men. I’d dated narcissists and drug users in my lifetime, and it was always messy. The thing about narcissists was, they were charmers. They knew how to pull you in and keep you there as long as you were good for them and satisfied with what they wanted in their world. As soon as you no longer worked for them, they no longer were there for you.

  I didn’t think of Sage as a narcissist, especially after our magical trip to New York. I was almost ready to raise the white flag and surrender to my own insecurity when I opened his band’s Facebook page and saw a picture of him kissing a blonde girl by a pool at a bar in his neighborhood.

  I can’t even express the kind of pain and heartbreak that one damn photo brought me. I must have stared at it for an hour, just numb. It was definitely over. I never wanted to see Sage again. How could he just discard all we had shared with one another? Of course, there was the fact that we’d never agreed to be exclusive, and we weren’t even dating, I guess … I was a mess.

  Charlynn saw the photo after she watched the YouTube video and wanted to know what people were saying about the song, knowing I wrote it. As soon as she saw the photo she came into my room and sat on my bed. At that point, I was in a full-blown meltdown. I was crying so hard that I could hardly hear her talking to me.

  “He’s either a complete and total asshole, or he’s … um ... Yeah. I got nothing. So, what are you thinking?” She smoothed her hand over my back, trying to give me comfort.

  “I don’t know. I have no thoughts, just … tears.” I tried not to start crying again. “He’s obviously moved on. We didn’t even have a fight; he was just so strange … and I think hungover or drugged out, or I don’t know what, and now he’s found someone else, just like that.” My eyes were already red and painful from crying, and yet a fresh batch of tears started to flow.

  “You, girl, are always about your music. Every time I’ve ever seen you face anything, you’ve always tackled it with a song. This is no different. You need to just strum this out, and the answers will come. It’s not over. Men kiss women for many different reasons; especially a woman at a bar. I mean the kiss does look like he’s into it, but it might be a rebound. I doubt he’s really on the hunt.”

  Charlynn and Reyna always had the best advice; I suddenly felt a little better. She was right. I needed to chill with my guitar and just work my way through this. I was sure Sage knew the picture was on his web page. If he really wanted me back, he’d call and explain. If not, I wasn’t in so deep that I couldn’t grieve it out and get over it. The holidays would probably suck for the rest of my life until I found someone I liked better than Sage. At the moment, that wasn’t going to happen, so I went to my first two loves … myself and music.

  “You�
�re right. I’m going to just make music and get lost in it and forget about him for now. I’ll know the truth one day, no matter what it is,” I said as I stood up and went for my guitar.

  “That’s my girl,” Charlynn encouraged as she went off to work and I got busy songwriting.

  The apartment was lonely but a perfect place for reflection. I thought about what it was like to lose the fantasy and want it back, to make a commitment to making it real and being a person capable of love and communication. This song was going to be an epilogue to the one I wrote Sage. And I called it Never More.

  “Nevermore will I see the broken girl waiting for a fantasy.

  Nevermore will I be waiting for a prince on a white horse patiently.

  Nevermore will I lie and run and hide,

  never more will I ever dishonor the queen inside.

  You should be happy you had me,

  you should be free to leave,

  you should stop calling me baby,

  you should just let me grieve.

  You should know who you are,

  if you don’t look deep within,

  you should see all that I do,

  if you ever do maybe you will never ever more …

  hurt me and hurt you too.

  I know perfection is the fairytale

  and that human beings flounder and fail.

  We ache in heartbreak,

  a trip on the lips of another,

  but it can’t be that way,

  we should trust and grow with each other.

  Nevermore will I be the girl who stands by and watches the world pass

  or raise her empty glass.

  I’ll see things half full

  and let you know

  that nevermore will I ever forget to see ever after without you …

  now just let me go.”

  I was singing and wailing through the tears but the song said it, just as I wanted it to. It touched the heart of my words, and I sang them with all the passion I’d been bottling up for the whole week. I sang the song with pain, heartbreak, and hope. I was as raw now as I ever would be, so after spending the day writing the song, I rang up a twenty-four-hour recording studio to see if they had space for me and a technician.

  I was in luck. They had a slot open from two in the morning until nine o’clock. That would be plenty of time to put down one song. I booked it, took a four-hour nap, which would be all the sleep I got that day and prepared to sing my heart out.

  When I arrived at the studio I was ready to make history with my song. I was that prepared and focused. I sang it a few times, and the guy in the recording booth made a few tweaks. I sang it over and over again until my voice was raw. I knew I had a few good takes in there, but the guy kept pushing me.

  “I want you to do it again and dig deeper,” he said on what felt like the millionth take.

  “I don’t think I have anything else in me, Carl,” I complained, wanting a drink of water and a burger.

  “Just one more time … you’ve got some amazing stuff here, but one more time and I know you’ll strike gold.” Carl had stayed up all night with me working to get the song right. “I love the shit out of this song … and … it’s almost there.”

  Well, that was all I needed, one fan. I grabbed my guitar and threw down my last take, and he was right, that was the one. I nearly fell over and died right there … that take took everything I had left in me.

  “Fuck yeah! That’s it, Melody … that’s the one!” he screamed and jumped out of his chair.

  It was enough to motivate me to do the same. Adrenalin kicked in, and I was walking on air. He played a few takes for me and I loved them, surprisingly, ’cause I didn’t usually like hearing myself until I got used to the song.

  “And now this …” he said, moving the mouse to the last track.

  He turned up the sound so that it was almost blasting. Oh … my … God. The tears just dripped out of my eyes … it was magic; painful, brutal, surrender. God, it was good.

  Even Carl’s eyes were glassy. “This song is gonna make you a superstar.” He hugged me. “You got anyone you can play it for? You’re not signed to a record label or anything yet, right? I got some people I can give it to if you give me permission, but the big guys won’t listen to it with just my recommendation. Sadly, I’m a little fish. Do you know anyone with clout in the industry who could vouch for you?” He was really serious about this.

  “I opened for Mizironic on New Year’s. She’s on tour now, but she could send an email or something. I got to get the song to her first, though.” It was a long shot. I doubted she’d answer my phone call while she was on tour.

  “She’s perfect. She uses this studio all the time. My boss is tight with her. I’ll send it over to him, and he can forward it to her because I know he’ll love it. Then you email it to her on your end. She’ll get hit with it twice today, so that should spark her to give it a listen. You go home and send the email, and I’ll send one on my end just before the end of my shift when I brief him and give him my report about our night. Then get some rest; you look super tired.” He gave me a kindly smile, and even though I’d been up all night and had slept very little, I didn’t want to sleep.

  I felt like Eliza in My Fair Lady, wanting to dance all night. When I got home, I emailed Mizironic and sent her the song. I was still excited, but as soon as I walked into the apartment, fatigue hit me. I pressed send and fell into my bed, fully dressed with my shoes still on. I woke up five hours later with my cell phone blowing up my pocket.

  At first, I thought it might be Sage. I was excited to see his phone number even if I wasn’t going to answer the phone. It wasn’t his number, though; it was Mizironic.

  “Hello?” I answered not wanting it to sound like a question, but it was a pretty big deal, her calling me.

  “Oh my fucking god,” she started, she didn’t sound angry, but she did sound pretty intense. “You’re a mad scientist, girl … a freakin’ genius. I played your song ten times in a row already; it’s massive. I wanna sing it, but Imma let you have it first. We can work the other stuff out later. Girl, I’ll be happy to cover you.” She was talking so fast I was having a hard time following her.

  “I’m glad you like it; maybe you can put a comment on the song when I upload it to YouTube?” I just flat out asked her, that wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.

  “Oh, I’ll do you better than that. Imma put it on my page with a massive announcement that you’re the newest thing. I’ll link some live stuff you did at our show and girl, buckle your seatbelt baby. You are gonna start flying.”

  I hated that I was being such a big crybaby these days, but the damn tears came again.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I blathered a billion times.

  “No, girl. Thank you. You’re the one putting your guts out there. You inspire me. I love this raw pain … this beauty. Man, this is your thing, you got all the feels, make them work. I gotta go, but I’ll have my guys put your vid up a bunch of places today. The recording studio sent me a clip of you singing—you look so rough, you need ta get some sleep. Now, I’ll make sure you get the cash that comes off of this. My lawyer will draw up something for you to sign in an hour or two. I got to get to soundcheck, but I can’t wait to see this blow-up. When I get back to town, you’re coming over to the house, and we’ll write something together, sound okay?”

  Was she really asking me?

  I kept my cool. “Sounds, perfect. Thanks again and have a good show tonight.”

  “Ciao, Bella.” She clicked off and that was it … I was flying.

  Chapter 19

  Sage

  This was killing me. It’d been just over a week, and I hadn’t seen her, just those damn texts. I missed her smile, her sparkling eyes, her skin … her perfect body. I was physically in pain missing Melody. I’d been able to walk away from girls easily; it shouldn’t have been that hard, I’d done it so many times before. I even sort of liked some of them, there was
potential there, but nothing hurt like this. Losing Melody ached, and it was ripping me up. I had no desire to do anything.

  I only stayed functioning for the sake of the band. Our song had over five million views, and it was growing in popularity. There was a buzz everywhere and a wider audience was finally going to know who the Grind Revolution was. We were blowing up. In fact, my manager was the busiest he’d ever been in his career. He always represented independent and medium level bands, but we were getting so much attention so fast he was almost unable to keep up.

  “I’m going to have to hire a temp to help me with all the calls and the gigs and stuff,” he said at our meeting. “You guys are going to have to put out an album and tour. Have you been working on anything? We need to get something down in the next month or so. You guys have to have something to give people. You have two songs, but you need more.”

  He was right. The guys weren’t great at writing songs; they just liked being in a band. I was the songwriter, and I’d only written the first hit. Melody wrote the other one.

  “Maybe you guys can write stuff about the dark side of love, or broken childhood dreams. Hell, take a trip up the coast of California and write about that; it hasn’t been done in a while. I don’t care where you get your inspiration, but we need more stuff from you, and we need it fast.”

  Ugh, no pressure … it’s only our careers that depended on it.

  I didn’t need the money, but this is what I wanted to do with my life. I thought about love as an inspiration, but it was too painful with thoughts of Melody clouding my mind. Perhaps a trip up the coast would be fun. Maybe we could find all the crazy places in California, the places people don’t think of when they listen to the Beach Boys. My head was mush; I couldn’t think. I could use a toke on a fat J and some wine, perhaps that would get me in the mood. I’d been relying too heavily on self-medication, though, and that was always a dangerous road to travel.

  I needed to buy myself some more time. “Give us a few days, and we’ll come to you with some ideas.”