Page 72 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

My toes curl. My muscles quake. And my real cries mingle with my planned call outs of the bassist’s name.

Slowly, I remove the device from between my shaky legs and turn it off. Good Lord, that was phenomenal.

I place the toy on the mattress next to me so I can listen to the audio. It sounds exactly the way I wanted it to. Like I’m pleading for Kodiak to fuck me. Fantasizing about him instead of Riot while I get myself off in Riot’s bed.

Perfection.

I upload it into a message. I could send it to him.

Or... I could send it as a group chat to the band. Him knowing that Bronx, Golden, and Kodiak get to hear me too will infuriate him.

Could my revenge get any sweeter?

Yes. Oh yes, it could. Because they’ll torment him over it.

I add them all as recipients and press send.

26

Riot

While the servers circle with champagne flutes full of Krug Clos du Mesnil, there’s a floor to ceiling bar set up at every Savant party for those with other preferences.

Bronx and I push our way through the crowd.

“What does she want?” he asks, following in my wake.

“She says we’re back together,” I grumble over my shoulder. The whole situation tastes sour. Acid rises in my throat. It’s all a show for the media, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. It’s not like the last time when I was walking around like a zombie, my head full of fog. Kelsey being back has impacted more than just my ability to write songs.

“Fucking hell,” he says.

“Yeah.” I ignore the drink attendant who is serving a rapper that’s signed to the Savant Label. He’s not Effect. Or I’d ask him what he did to get her off his back. But whatever Effect did is more than likely the reason he’s no longer riding the charts or invited to these parties.

L.A. Riot can’t take the hit.

Reaching over the bar, I help myself to a bottle of tequila. The lid comes off in my fist, and I drop it onto the lacquered bar top before taking a swig. I hand it over to Bronx.

“Can she do that?” he asks as Golden and Kodiak close in.

Quarter of the bottle has disappeared by the time they reach us. I reach back over the bar to steal a second bottle.

“What’s the damage?” Golden asks, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“He’ll take the hit for us.” Bronx throws an arm around my shoulder, takes another swallow of tequila. “Fake date the witch so we can keep hanging with our lady love.”

“You better not be talking about Kelsey.” I open the second bottle while he hands his to Kodiak.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of her.” Kodiak smirks and takes a drink.

“The fuck you will.” I imagine snatching the bottle out of his hands, breaking it off on the bar and stabbing him with it. But my anger should be directed at Sonatina, not him.

“I’m talking about the music, bro.” Bronx laughs.

“Yeah, we know where your real feelings lie,” Golden says.

“Fuck you too.” I need to drink more, because these idiots are pissing me off. Swallowing a shot, I give my tequila to Golden. “The label could bury us in legalities for a long time.”

Carmine won’t hesitate if that’s what his daughter wants.