Copyright © MJ Fields 2015

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of MJ Fields, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

1st Edition Published: November 13, 2015

Published by MJ Fields

Cover Design by: K23 Design

Cover Model: Franggy Yanez

Photo credit Love N Books

First Edit by: C&D Editing

Final Edit by: Kellie Montgomery

Formatting by: M.L. Pahl of IndieVention Designs

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*Disclaimer*

This book contains mature content not suitable for those under the age of 18. It involves strong language and sexual situations. All parties portrayed in sexual situations are consenting adults over the age of 18.

 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Stars

Clouds

Storms

Beaches

It’s in the past

No Future

The Taste Left Behind

Bitter and Sweet

Sleeping Dogs Don’t Lie

Room Service

Hard to swallow

Auditions

Houston

Dallas

Orlando

Noah

Tampa

What Now

Jersey

Facing the Music

Head On

Epilogue

About the Author

Thank You

INTRODUCTION

I walked through hell, some of it caused by myself. Things were torn away from me that I would never get back. Hearts were broken beyond repair. Then mayhem ensued, and I lost who I was.

Music was always a part of it. Music almost killed me. It dragged me in, caught me up, and almost destroyed me. I lost who I was and became someone I never wanted to be.

Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. The release, the buzz, the electric guitar’s rage against all that was fucked up in the world. It took me away and made me feel something when I was a soulless nothing … until the high wore off.

Music also brought me back.

I woke to a Zeppelin song, face down in my own vomit, next to a pile of coke and with three naked women at my feet. Disgusted with myself, disgusted with them, I walked, and I walked alone.

One chance meeting, a golden opportunity, a chance of a lifetime changed it all.

The sins of the past are behind me now. The day has finally come when I will walk onstage, not as an opening act, but as the act. Hours before my dream comes to fruition, though, I run into a girl, one fucking girl, and I am back on the path of destruction.

When Memphis Black’s piece of ass ran out of Bader on August twenty-eighth, I was slightly astounded. Tally wasn’t a wild child, far from it; she was a preacher’s kid.

“Tales, you stealing purses now?” I look at the outfit she’s wearing and laugh. “Or selling your body?”

“Fuck you,” she yells in my face then steps back, her hooker heels breaking and causing her to fall into Memphis. “I hate you!” she then spews at Memphis.

“Is that so?” he snaps back, sweeping her up.

“Put me down, you asshole.” She starts to kick and scream.

“My purse!”

I look up when I hear that nails on a chalkboard voice to see a strawberry blonde in a pencil skirt running after Tally.

“Bring it on, bitch!” Tally is acting like a crackhead.

The purse falls on the ground, and the other chick lunges for it, but I snatch it up.

“You better hope there is something in this,” I mutter to Tally.

Billy has the other chick now, and River is laughing. Then Nickie D opens the door to the stretch Hummer, calling out, “Get them inside!”

I look at the girl who is glaring at me like I am public enemy number one, and the hair on the back of my neck immediately stands up. I don’t like her one bit.

Inside the car, Tally is freaking out and screaming, and the other chick is shooting poison darts at me with her fucking amber-colored eyes. The color makes me sick. She makes me sick. And suddenly I know damn well that Tally is freaking out for a good damn reason.

I grab the purse and dump it out, and the evil chick reaches for something. Through all Tally’s ranting, yelling, and freaking out, I know it’s an SD card, so I snatch it up while the evil bitch grabs a chain or necklace of some sort.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?” I ask evil incarnate.

“None of your business. Now give me back my belongings and let me out, or I call the cops,” she says in an eerily serene voice.

The way my body and mind react to her is something unexplainable. She seems familiar to me, but I know damn well she’s not. I want her under me, but I don’t. I should back the fuck down, but I can’t.

“What’s your name?”

“Sonya. Sonya none-of-your-damn-business,” she says as she picks up her wallet, a pocket-sized photo album, and her phone.

She incites anger in me, an anger I haven’t felt in years.

“Okay, let’s just calm the hell down and sort this all out,” Xavier, the owner of our production company, interrupts with the words that were at the tip of my tongue. “Sonya, what’s on that drive?” She just looks out the window. “Sonya …”

“It’s not mine, haven’t seen it, don’t know, and really don’t give a damn.”

Nickie grabs his laptop and pops it in. “Fuck me, Memphis. Oh, yeah, baby, fuck me just like that.” It’s the bitch, Stevie’s voice.

“I’m gonna fuck you my way. You just lie back,” Memphis’s voice comes out loud and clear. “And enjoy the show.”

“Sure that’s me?” Memphis asks.

“If it looks like a duck, sounds like a duck, then fuck, it’s a duck,” River says as he sits back. “But we already knew this. Well, not all of us.”

“She knew! She saw me the next morning, all marked up.” Memphis grabs Tally’s wrist, and she flips her shit. “Tales, you fucking knew.”

I ignore the rest of the relationship meltdown as I watch the girl, Sonya, eye the door. Although she appears calm, she is a caged animal, waiting to spring free the second she gets a chance.

Tally suddenly pushes past all of us, opening the door, and I stick my foot out to block Sonya from getting out, as well. When she glares at me, I give it right back.

Nickie D grabs my attention, saying, “You wanna sit with her while I get—”

“I’d prefer to chew off my own damn leg than sit in here alone with her.” I point to Sonya none-of-my-damn-business.

“Finn, easy, man.” Xavier shakes his head, then whispers, “She’s just a kid.”

“She’s no kid; she’s a wild animal,” I respond, not giving two shits if she hears me, because she is. I can tell. She’s a fucking ticking time bomb.

“Just do it. We have enough shit to deal with trying to talk Memphis off the fucking ledge,” Xavier snaps at me.