Brando 2 (3 page)

“I
wasn’t
lying,” I
say, though I can barely look her in the eye. Her words fall like a
sack of bricks, crushing me. It was bad enough losing her, but
knowing that I hurt her this much is enough to push me over the edge.
I try to speak. “I…
I…”

“Brando!”
comes
the call from across the hall. We turn in the direction of Rowland’s
office and see him peeking out from the doors. “Get
your ass back in here. Lexi’s
on her way.”

It’s
the last thing I want to hear right now. The last thing I wanted
Haley to hear.

She
flashes me one last go-fuck-yourself look. “I’m
beginning to feel like all I do is keep you warm for her.”

“Haley!”
I
call, as she steps behind the elevator doors just before they close.
I think about putting my arm in to stop them, dragging her out,
getting on my knees to beg, but I don’t
– I
can’t.
All I want to do is take her pain away –
even
if it that pain is me.

Rowland
is talking about something but I’m
not really listening when Lexi shows up. I’m
still somewhere deep in my thoughts, still trying to swim out of all
the feelings swirling around inside of me.

I
wish I was anywhere but here. Hell is Rowland’s
office. Where I’m
forced to listen to a boss I find repulsive, where Haley tells me how
much she hates me, and where the girl I once loved more than anything
in the world, only to lose her to the shallow, plastic, star-making
machine, is about to show up and piss all over my hopes and dreams
once again.

“Lexi!”
he
calls out suddenly.

I
turn slightly to look at the doorway. She’s
still beautiful. Still remarkable. Still capable of making time stand
still. Even now that she doesn’t
wear the latex dresses and miniskirts that Davis had her in. Instead
she’s
wearing her gym clothes, yoga pants and a tank top –
but
she’s
still unbearably hot. I turn back around to face Davis.

“Hi
baby,” she
says to me, as she sits on the chair Haley was in and crosses her
legs slowly, aware of the effect it always had on me.

Rowland’s
gaze flickers between us in the same way it did when Haley was here,
only this time it’s
me giving off the ‘let’s
get this over with’
vibe.

“I’ve
got awesome news, Lexi. Haley’s
gonna be supporting you on your tour!”

Lexi
times her derisive laugh perfectly. It’s
the one she used to use in order to let all the men in the room know
who’s
in charge. “Why?
To make me look better?”
Her
gaze slides over to me. “Or
is this a pity thing? Your little protégé
can’t
book a gig, is that it?”

“Come
on now, Lexi,”
Rowland
says, his voice going as feeble as the poor guys who try to pick her
up. “Haley’s
the next big thing! She’s
got a lot of people out there excited.”

Lexi
turns to me with her wet-lipped look. “Does
she get
you
excited, Brando? Let me guess; this was your idea.”

“Hell
no!”
Rowland
exclaims, leaning back in his chair as if the insult blew him back.
“You
think he could come up with something like that?”

“Rowland
thinks that having a genuine musician on your tour might help you
last long enough to be worth a second album,”
I
say, staring back at her, my voice deadpan. “Maybe
some of her talent will rub off on you.”

“Which
talent is that, honey? The one she uses in the studio? Or the one she
uses in—”

“Ah-hem!”
Rowland
interrupts, struggling to gain our attention. She and I are locked in
a stare, two bulls pushing each other until one breaks. If the last
meeting was all about Rowland, he may as well not exist for this one.

“Take
your pick,”
I
growl, “she’s
better than you at both.”

“Enough!”
Rowland
shouts, slamming his palms on the table. “Jesus
Christ! I almost regret arranging for you to go with them.”

“What?”
Lexi
and I say at the same time, our heads swiveling back to Rowland. I
can’t
have heard him right. This must be some kind of bargaining tactic,
some kind of threat.

“Oh,”
Rowland
says, adjusting his collar as if he’s
just been in a fight, “that
was the other thing I wanted to tell you; you’re
going on the tour with them, Brando.”

“Ha!”
Lexi
laughs, throwing her head back and sticking her tongue between her
teeth. She’s
loving this.

“Why,
Rowland? I have work here, and—”

“These
are your two biggest artists, Brando, and they’re
about to go on the biggest tour of their careers together! We need
this to go smoothly. What are you going to do here in LA? Continue
booking gigs and arranging studio time for your other groups? We
could get an intern to do that. Your work is on the road.”

“Yeah,
come on, Brando. We can ditch the third wheel and make it just like
old times again,”
Lexi
says, winking. Her eyes are sparkling at how much she’s
enjoying this. “Shit.
She can join in if she wants.”

“This
is maybe the most important event in Lexi’s,
Haley’s,
and Majestic Records’
history,”
Rowland
says, before I can snap back at Lexi. “I
can’t
leave it to chance.”

I
roll my eyes away and fix them on the building across the street.
Three weeks of Lexi twisting the knife every chance she can. Three
weeks of trying to stop the only two women I’ve
ever loved from killing each other.

Three
weeks to get Haley back.

And
then it hits me: this is the best chance I’ve
got.

The
only one.

Haley

“I
want texts, emails, phone calls, every day,”
Jenna
says, so excited I’m
scared she’ll
drive the car into oncoming traffic. “And
you better come prepared. I want diary-level insight. I want to feel
like I’m
there with you. How it smells, how it sounds, what it’s
like. I wanna know about the crowds, what it must be like to stand in
front of so many people. You better promise to give me all that.”

“I
promise.”

“You
better,” she
repeats, as she pulls the car off the road and into the big parking
lot. “Oh
my God! Look at how many people are there!
Three
tour
buses! It’s
just like in the movies!
HolyshitthisisamazingohmygodIcan’tbelievethis—”

Her
voice gets faster and more high-pitched until I have to squint and
hunch my shoulders to stop my eardrums from bursting. She brings the
car to a halt and looks around her like she just drove through a
portal to Neverland.

“This
is amazing!”
she
squeals again, bobbing up and down in the driver’s
seat.

“Thanks
for giving me a lift, Jenna,”
I
say, opening the door. She walks with me to the back of the car and
we both pull my luggage from the trunk.

“Well,
I guess this is it,”
she
says, when I’m
standing there with my guitar case in one hand and my luggage in the
other.

“I’ll
tell you everything. I promise,”
I
repeat with a smile. She hugs me tightly, and I try not to cry. Not
because I’m
going to miss Jenna (though I will), but because I’m
about to embark on a three week tour of my own personal hell. And on
top of that, I’ll
still have to perform with a smile on my face at every show. “And
hey, good luck with that audition.”

Jenna
waves it away. “I’m
more nervous about your tour than the audition, to be honest.”

“Still,
I really hope you get it.”

“Me
too,” she
says, stepping back to the side of the car and opening the door. “See
you in three weeks, Haley. Go give them something to remember!”

“I’ll
try flashing my breasts.”

“Doesn’t
Lexi already do that in her show?”

I’m
still laughing as she reverses her car back out of the lot, and then
I watch as she concentrates so much on waving at me that it’s
a miracle she re-joins the flow of traffic without crashing. I take a
deep breath, turn around, and start walking toward the buses.

My
band’s
already there. Paula, the drummer, and Aaron, the bassist, are
loading bags into the open bay doors underneath the bus. Brian, my
guitarist, is having a cigarette. He comes to meet me and takes my
luggage.

“Thanks,”
I say.

“Can
you believe this is really happening?”
he
says, his voice nowhere near as calm and collected as he looks.

“Nope.
Why are there three buses? And so many people. Is there another
band?”

Brian
laughs. “Us,
Lexi, and her band.”

“Lexi
gets a whole coach to herself?”

“Could
her ego fit in otherwise?”

We
laugh and Brian lifts my luggage into the storage bay. I put my
guitar case in and take a moment to soak it all up.

“Sorry
I’m
late,” I
apologize. “Traffic.
I hope I didn’t
keep everyone waiting.”

“You’re
always late,”
Brian
replies, teasing, before adding, “but
some people are always later.”

I
turn my head toward wherever he’s
looking and see a black Mercedes with tinted windows pull up. A big
guy who looks like a bear in a suit jumps out of the passenger side
and runs to one of the rear doors. He opens it and stands upright,
his eyes engaging in their usual rapid-scan for paparazzi and rabid
fans. But he’ll
find none here.

Her
leg comes out first, long and slender, a practiced motion, and then
the rest of her. I do a double take. She’s
dressed like a valley girl who just got a promotion. White jeans, red
high-tops, and a turquoise off-the-shoulder t-shirt. If it wasn’t
for the big sunglasses and the destroy-every-thing-in-its-path walk,
she’d
almost be approachable.

Seconds
later, I realize how wrong that idea is. She makes a beeline for me
and Brian, entourage of black-suited bodyguards and slightly less
attractive hangers-on following her in almost perfect V-formation.
She takes her glasses off slowly.

“So
you’ve
finally got your big break. Tagging along behind me. Scared, little
girl?”

“What’s
there to be scared of?”
I
reply, noticing Brian is frozen in place. “I’m
doing what I love, what I do best.”

Lexi
laughs as if I’m
a pet that just did something cute.

“I
forgot, you’re
all about ‘real’
music,
aren’t
you? So long as you get those audiences warmed up for the main event,
we won’t
have a problem.”

“Just
make sure you don’t
get them cold again, Lexi.”

She
takes a step closer to me and I noticed her bodyguards shift closer.
Are they supposed to protect her –
or
me? Maybe they know something I don’t.

Her
voice goes cruel and sharp, all the teasing gone. “Let
me just remind you quickly why you’re
here. It’s
because you’re
too small to do it without trying to catch some of my glow. It’s
because you fucked a guy who took you this far. It’s
because Brando wanted to win a bet –
to win
me
.
You’re
an open-mic also-ran, a bargaining chip, and a third wheel. We both
know you don’t
belong here, so just try your best, and try not to fuck up my shows
too badly, okay?”
She
leans back and flashes me that sexy mega-watt grin, sliding her
sunglasses back on.

Now
I know what the bodyguards know: Lexi has the consistent,
indefatigable habit of making you want to slap her. Maybe it’s
her superpower.

Before
I can decide whether I want to hit her or give her a detailed,
expletive-ridden account of her many flaws as a person, she’s
buried in her entourage and heading away toward the other bus.

“Uh.
We should get going,”
Brian
says, his voice a little shaky.

“Why
didn’t
you say anything?”
I
ask, as we climb onto the bus. “You’re
not scared of her, are you?”

He
laughs nervously, then changes the subject clumsily.

“Check
this out! TV, PS4, awesome stereo,”
he
says, leading me toward the back where Paula and Aaron are already
booting up the game console. “And
a fully stocked fridge! This bus is pretty much better than most of
the apartments I’ve
lived in.”

“Even
those beds?”
I
say, nodding at the cramped bunks.

He
leans in and sniffs. “Yeah.”

I
punch his shoulder. “Eww,
gross! I don’t
even get why we have a bus though, aren’t
we just going to stay in hotels?”

“Most
of the time,”
a
voice behind me says, unmistakeably strong and commanding. I spin
around and see him, stepping onto the front of the bus and making his
way back to me. The very sight of him getting me hot for too many
reasons to pick one. “But
there are a couple of dates that are going to be a squeeze without
it. Better this than sleeping on a plane.”

“What
the hell are you doing here?”
I
ask tightly, as he nods Brian away toward the back of the bus.

“What
did you think I’d
do? Follow you on a bicycle?”

“You
don’t
need to be on the bus with us,”
I
say in a childish voice.

Brando
draws himself close, squeezing beside me in the slim aisle between
the beds.

“I’m
supposed to make sure everything is alright, that everyone’s
happy. I can only do that when I’m
on the ground with them.”

The
bus lurches forward, and Brando falls against me, my face almost in
his neck, my hands raising up to hold his chest, his arm grabbing my
back to stop me from falling.

Can
hate make you want to fuck someone even more? Because I’ve
never wanted to tear Brando’s
shirt off more than I do now, in this cramped, moving bus, and ride
the weirdly thrilling mix of emotions I’m
feeling by holding him to me.

“Well
it’s
not alright,”
I
say, trying to keep my voice steady as he pulls himself back away
from me far slower than he could, “and
I’m
definitely not happy.”