“Jett, mate! What’s up? You all right?”
My exhale accidentally has a growl in it. “Hey man, I’m- I’m all right.”
“You’re definitely not, Jett, now just tell me, man. Ican help, whatever it is, you know I’m here to solve problems.”
“It’s…” Bullshit is about to spill from my lips, and Ifucking hate liars! God, Ihate myself right now! But it’s projectile word vomit, the kind you can’t stop. Ilight a cigarette and start chain-smoking to calm the insane nerves Ihave over the lie I’m about to tell, about someone Ihave zeroactualownership over. “This actor bloke, Rye Meadows, you know him?”
Now Cam’s the one growling. “You fucking kidding? That asshole rear-ended me on Wilshire last night! I’m about ready to head over there and—ugh! Arhhhh!”
“You serious?” Ithought tonight could be the luckiest of my life, with meeting Mads and all, but this? Acherryon god damn top! “You’re already planning on going over there and kicking this guy’s arse?” Ipractically drool at the serendipity.
Cam huffs, “Thinking about it! Why? What did he do to you?”
“He…” Idown two more shots because Ican’t believe I’m saying this! “Fucker put his hands all over my girl.” I’m a mental case, Cam, institutionalise me! Like sneak me in booze and my guitar and records, but like, lock me the fuck up!
“Jett.” Cam sighs. “Three days ago, you told me you were in love with, uh, Ibelieve you said he was a gogo dancer at the Abbey?”
“Turns out that was, ehrm, not love. He just had a truly great ass.” Islap myself in the forehead.
“So … Jett … aren’t you self-actualized enough to realize this is probably just some girl with another truly great ass and not actuallyyour girl?”
“She will be my girl, Cam, Ican fucking promise you that!”
“You expect me to risk getting arrested for beating up some pretty boy actor for touching a girl you aren’t even with?”
“Fine, don’t beat him up, then! Just like, have something unfortunate happen!”
Camden groans, and promises he’s good for it. “Right, I’ll see what Ican do. Now go to bed!”
“You know Iwon’t.” Ihang up and make the walk of shame over to where Ilobbed the remote and fast forward until that loser leaves the screen and it’s just Cherry and her pack of mean girls.She’s such a good actress, she’s way too fucking good for you, anyway, look at her!The fuckery in my brain won’t stop, and the longer Iwatch her, the worse it gets. That Rye comes back on the screen, and Igrowl, storming off the couch.
I pace around the house until the fifth is polished off, and I’ve got my Adidas suit on, the one that lets me channel 90s Liam Gallagher. Idyed my frizz mess hair orange for my mad hatter costume, and look like such a wank that Ithrow a matching navy beanie over it. Suddenly, I’m out the door with a lit cigarette in one hand, a cold Carlsberg lager with a paper bag around it in the other. Something about Camden telling me to go to bed makes me wanna do the complete opposite, as usual.
I put out the fag after a few minutes, and now I’m calling Camden again, and fuck if I’m not sounding pissed from all that Jack. “On second thought, I’m just gonna handle it. Address, please?”
“Jett,” Cam warns, “what are you gonna do?”
“I just wanna scare him, Cam! That’s all! C’mon!”
“Jett, your therapist and Italked last week, she said this way you get? Right now? She said it’s a trauma response, and that you need to take a triazolam and go to bed! Isaid I’d handle it!”
“You won’t handle it fuckingright, now ping me his god damn address!”
Heavy sigh. “Fine, don’t do anything to get yourself arrested, all right, or I’ll fucking call your mum!”
Fifteen minutes later, and I’m stumbling out of an Uber and into the trendy, low-lit bar under his flat, since Idon’t know how I’m gonna get the doorman to let me up. Isip vodka on ice and start checking out all the hot people inside, since no coherent plan is coming to me.
“Damn, you are fucking fit,” Ihear myself say compulsorily to a tight, tattooed blonde who sits at the bar next to me.
She looks at me with a smirk that slowly stretches across her face. “Say that again?”
“You are fuckin’ fit, doll, quite like that mermaid tatt on your arm.”
She shakes her head, grinning. “Okay, you’ve got to be him. You’re him, aren’t you? You’re angry, but you’re emotional, like sweet but dark, ugh! My Brit roommate’s been blasting your album for three weeks straight!”
I shake her hand and remind her of my name, complimenting her roommate’s musical taste while she bats her lashes at me like crazy.
“Why the hell are you sitting here by yourself looking like that?” Iask boldly.
