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Hudson
Lying in my new bed, I torture myself by staring at the wall. The same exact one I know Charlotte’s on the other side of. I can hear her punk rock music playing softly and wonder if she might be thinking about me too.
Boom!Suddenly I jerk out of bed at a thundering sound coming from the front of the flat. It takes a moment but when the voices trickle back to my room I recognize them immediately which helps tamper down my blood pressure, and I even laugh right before Bandit and Nick stumble into my bedroom. Guess I should start locking the front door. I take a deep breath and ask a question I’m not sure I want to
“What’s up, mates?”
“Heeey, Hudsooooon. What are you doing sober, bro? Come drink with us. We have a sweet setup in Bryon’s room, come on.”
Of course, I do and of course I shouldn’t. Too many beers later and I end up dancing on the table for some girls that showed up out of nowhere, much like girls do whenever we start drinking. I think the boys must have a dozen or so on speed dial in every city.
I fall to the nearby sofa in an impressive leap and twist, landing on my back when the song ends. A couple girls jump up to take my place; the other one sets her sights on me. The redhead looks nothing like Charlotte, and I surprise myself that I care. She lays down beside me and wraps her arms around my torso, and I find myself having to try really hard to be into her. I brush her smooth hair back from her face and think frizzy would be cuter. Her dry hand feels like sandpaper as it climbs my arm and slides under my shirt, making me pull her hand down in discomfort. Our faces are so close I smell her breath and think of cod fish. Slowly she leans closer and closer to kiss me, and I bolt up off the couch, repulsed at the suggestion. Saying my apologies, I head for the door and the comfort of my empty flat where I rightly freak out on myself. When I finally make it back to bed, visions of my time with Charlotte flutter in and out of my dreams and leave me restless. Tossing and turning from one dream to the next, I finally get off on them with an orgasm that shakes the entire bed and forces me to scream my pleasure into the pillow with gritted teeth. Only then do I sleep until morning, dreamless and sated.
Marcus wakes us all up in the morning, and I feel like a bear. My mouth is drier than the desert, my head heavier than an elephant, and for the life of me I can’t remember the last time the boys and I actually saw AM on the clock. We are all bitching at him as he makes breakfast for us in Bandit’s flat. I feel like shit and decide to rest my head on the cold counter. He slides over a cup of heavenly coffee and I nod my thanks. He goes on spouting things that need done and how we all are going to have to put in more hours of daylight in order to finish the album by the deadline. The boys are going to the studio today, and I’m to go into the box and sing one of our most popular tunes. Marcus explains it’s for publicity to keep us relevant until we have something more.
When he mentions the name Charlie, I spit a bit of my coffee out and look around. She’s not here and no one thinks twice about me at the moment, but my reaction to the woman when she’s not here is a terrible sign for when I have to work with her. I meant it when I said I wanted to be friends; I just hope I can keep that promise and keep things in my pants.
We complain all the way downstairs and luckily Marcus is a patient chap because it doesn’t seem to bother him. Once inside we set up and I strap on a guitar to lay down my part of the track, playing without lyrics at first. He has us play it about five times before dismissing me to the box to sing. I push it out hard, channeling all my frustration and remembering the people I wrote this song for. My dear parents and oh how I loathe them. I belt it for all I’m worth and even at the point I might throw up from the drinks last night, I push through, nailing every line.
When I open my eyes, they lock on hers. On the other side of the glass, Charlotte looks at me with a look I can’t describe while clutching her chest. It’s not petty or I’d be pissed; it’s not total admiration because that’s what I’m used to. She seems to realize this and schools her features, but not before I notice that sweet blush bless her cheeks again. I step out and all the guys including Marcus and Mason clap my back and tell me how I killed it. The song is dead to me, and I wish we could stop playing it. Terrible memories always accompany that fucking song, and I excuse myself for a walk to shake the mood it brings.
