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Bobby
Roaring crowds. Chicks pushing toward me, pressing their tits against my chest. I don’t know how they manage to get around those huge security guards all over the place, but they’re sure determined to get close. Hands grope me, grabbing my junk. Camera flashes blink, so bright and so fast, for a minute I’m blinded. But my other senses are still on high alert. And the hands keep coming.
Damn, I wish they belonged to someone else.
Microphones are shoved at me, questions blasting me like bullets that are impossible to dodge.
How does it feel to be the very first winner of Song Slam?
Are you moving out to LA permanently?
Will you keep writing your own music?
Is your family excited?
Are they here to celebrate with you?
My throat tightens at the last two questions. I answer as many reporters as possible before I’m shuttled into a waiting Escalade. My personal bodyguard Mike nods at me and slams the door shut. Where the hell were you before when I was getting manhandled, Mike?
I pull out my iPhone. No messages. I toss it onto the black leather seat and let out a sigh. She could still be at work. Maybe she hasn’t even seen the show yet. It’s just like her to be burning the midnight oil, especially now that her career has taken off and she’s racing up that corporate ladder.
Just like her family expects.
“How much longer, Mike?” I rub the back of my neck, and my head collapses against the pebbled leather. This shit is luxury, that’s for sure. I’d never even seen the inside of anything that cost this much before I came out here a couple of months ago. And now? Hell, pretty soon I can own my own fleet of these cars.
At least that’s what my brand-new agent tells me. And Jeremy Rothenstein seems to have all the answers, so I trust him on that one.
“She should be coming out in a minute. Her last interview just ended.”
I trace a finger along the grooves of the seat and look back at my phone. I let out a deep sigh. I can call her. What would be so wrong with that?
I clench my fists. Only fucking everything.
My shoulders sag, and I close my eyes. I’ve taken one too many hits on the memory of her lips on mine, and right now, I’m crashing. Hard.
We weren’t meant to be anything, but somehow, we became something. I’d been living in a fog for most of my life, losing hope, losing faith, losing myself. What the hell could I possibly offer the girl with everything? The girl who just happened to walk into that shithole bar years ago. She owned the room…owned the world, really. Everyone wanted to be around her, she was that magnetic. And when she smiled at me, I damn near forgot the lyrics to my own song, which is ironic because it was one I’d written about crushed hopes and broken dreams. That night, she made me believe that it was really possible to find my place.
I found mine. It was with her.
The back door clicks open and Tia slides into the seat next to me. And she doesn’t let the phone between us stop her from creeping closer than she needs to be. She picks up the phone and hands it to me before practically jumping into my lap.
“Oh my God, Bobby! This is the most amazing night ever!” She lets out a high-pitched screech and stomps her feet on the floor, clapping like a seal at the zoo. “We won! Do you have any idea what this means for us?” She cups my chin and narrows her eyes. “Why are you so gloomy right now? We’re going to be stars, Bobby! Just like we’ve always dreamed!”
I manage a smile, but it’s a bullshit one. A façade. Just like the one I’ve been wearing for the past two months.
I have one dream. One.
That’s why I came out here – to make something of myself, to prove myself to a bunch of people who think they know what I’ve experienced, but who really have no clue. But this success; it’ll never be enough. I’ll never be enough. Money, Grammys, houses, cars, all that material shit – it doesn’t mean anything to me without Steph in my life.
And they’ll never let that dream become a reality. I don’t belong, and I never will.
That last night at Stephanie’s was a harsh reminder. When she told me she loved me, I knew I couldn’t give her what she needed and deserved. There was a reason why her father had such a hard-on for her ex-fiancé. The guy was dull as a bag of rocks, but he had a trust fund and a six-figure salary at some investment bank in the city. Pedigree. Legacy. Status. Only the best for their daughter. I knew I needed to do something more, something great. So I left. And I never told her how I felt. It was a dick move, but I had to find out if her feelings were real. Leaving her was the only option, for both of us. And if she came back to me?
Well, that really doesn’t matter at this point since she didn’t. Turns out I couldn’t give her what she needs after all.
Tia’s hand slithers up my leg and she licks her lip. “Feel like celebrating? Because I have lots of pent-up energy right now. I bet I can come up with some very fun things for us to do.”
Her hand continues to travel, and I let it, hoping it’ll eventually cloud my head and allow the lust to take over. But that memory. Dammit. It just won’t fade away.
