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MAX
Three Weeks later
“Ali.”I say her name like it’s a call to God. And maybe it is. Because the Doc’s have told me it’s a miracle that I’m here, alive and kicking. My lawyer has told me that too. That it’s a shock even to them that I’ve only been arrested with a caution until I’m free to leave the hospital and then I’ll go to court not prison.
Not just yet anyway.
“Max.” she says my name curtly, her head held high as her high heeled shoes click on the linoleum floor.
“Angel, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
She nods as she goes to her bag to retrieve something, she’s fussing around that damn thing for so long, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. I need her to know I mean it. I fucking mean it. I was a fucking fool to get in that car after the shit I’d injected. Thinking about it all again makes bile creep up in my throat.
“Ali, angel.” I repeat but she still doesn’t look up. “Baby.” I mumble, losing the little bit of momentum I had left in my body, the bravado slowly failing as she eventually sits down in the seat and make shift desk at the end of my hospital room. After the first couple of really groggy days, I got moved to this private room. I’ve been arrested and now I’m awaiting trial, but the thing that’s bothering me more than most is that Ali’s not been here.
And now she is, she’ll barely look my way.
“Max, I’m just here to go through the press statements with you, obviously the rest of the tour has been cancelled and we’ve written up a personal apology from you, I know it’s not standard procedure, but I think it’s needed in this instance. Your fans can be intense with their need to see you and we’d only get accused of holding you back from them if they don’t have a comment, they think is exclusively from you. It’ll help your court plea as well if the judge can already see remorse for what you’ve done.” She finally meets my eyes but her gorgeous green eyes aren’t soft like they normally are for me. She’s glaring and it's not the normal sort your shit out glare.
It's worse than that.
“Ali I’ll personally call each and every one who has a ticket for a show and apologise. I know I was fucking stupid, I was rash I just went, my brain didn’t connect to my body.” I try to explain.
“Was that before or after you injected the heroin?” she snaps.
“Ali, please!” I beg.
“Whatever, I didn’t want to bring this up with you. It’s up to you what the fuck you do I’m only ever here to clear up the messes so can we proceed with this? I need to sort these today.”
“I think we’ve got more important things to talk about than a press statement?”
“Do we?” she’s looking at me now and if looks really could kill. I’d be a dead man.
“Yeah, we do.” I insist, hoping her fiery look will soften.
“I can’t think of any.”
“Yes, you can, you’re just being as stubborn as me and I can’t say I blame you, but please let’s talk.” I pause.
“Talk about how fucking sorry I am, how stupid I was to go off the rails. It’s no excuse but my brain was fucking fried from this tour and then me and you and then I find out Finch is fucking my baby sister. That’s a lot to comprehend all in one fucking night baby. I know that’s no excuse. But-“
“Don’t fucking but me. No way can you blame you and me barely even kissing as a reason to inject that fucking junk into your system. And as much as you want to blame him it’s not fucking Finch’s fault either. He’s fucked your sister, big deal. She’s happy, he’s ecstatic and I’ve never seen anyone care for another human the way he does her, you’d know that if you’d been here but no you fucked up, drove that fucking car. Nearly killed yourself Max. And watching that pan out nearly killed me. So don’t fucking blame me, or your sister, or your friend for this. It’s all on you. Now let me sort these fucking statements out because it’s the last thing I have to do.”
“Hang on what, what do you mean the last thing you have to do?”
“Because I can’t fucking do it anymore. I’ve quit.”
Much too much, much too young.
Our sources have confirmed today that after weeks of interrogations and legal disputes in the United States, super star Blank Space singer Max Baines is back!
We know we shouldn’t still want him, the DUI is bad enough but with rumours still flying around about his full on fight (well sources say it was very one sided, but that doesn’t sell many papers does it?!) with band mate and apparent best friend Kyle Finch over his affair with Max’s sister.
Max Baines is not the boy you’d bring home to your mother.
He’s naughty, he’s bad but he’s so damn hot, our spies haven’t been able to stop following him around the hot spots of London. We’re hoping it’s just a coincidence he’s not been seen out with any of the members of Blank Space and that the tattooed bad boy is just being aloof. But our sources do tell us all is still not right in the world of the Blank Space boys.
Please don’t say this is the end for Britain’s HOTTEST rock band!
