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I nodded.
“Seeing Dax?”
I didn’t volunteer any more information and went to take a shower. I put on some skintight jeans and high heels, glamming it up. I was in a strange mood. As I put on make-up, applying eye liner, and painting my lips red, I wondered about Dax and thought about our relationship. We didn’t have a history of deep, meaningful talks. Whenever we had a disagreement in the past, we usually waited for it to blow over. Neither of us liked conflict and sometimes I wondered if we didn’t care enough about our relationship to really fight for it.
I left before my mother did, giving her a peck on the cheek to wish her good luck. She looked lovely, in a long, boho dress and a jean jacket and boots. “You look terrific,” I said. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”
“So do you!” she exclaimed. “Going for the biker chick look?”
Maybe I was.
Lulu’s was a relatively new club in town and for the band to have booked a gig there was a big deal. By the time I arrived, there was a quite a line outside and I had to queue to get in. Inside, there were many people. The lighting was low and there were laser lights making it hard for me to spot Dax or any of the band members. I looked for my friend but couldn’t find her. Another group was still playing, and the music was blaring. I made my way through the dancing crowd and found a place at the bar to order a drink.
I spotted Dax on the other side of the bar, talking to a young woman. She was young and pretty and they were standing very close together. I walked around to the other side of the bar to get a closer look. I needn’t have worried about them noticing me as the two of them were deeply engrossed in their conversation. Dax was sitting on a bar stool and the girl was standing between his legs, very close to him. The scene was intimate, there was no mistaking their closeness. The girl’s face was pleading, and she put her hand on his thigh, quite high up.
I felt my heart turn to lead.
At that moment, Dax turned his head and saw me. I saw his eyes widen, an expression of shock. He jumped up, shrugging off the girl who stepped away, dismayed.
“Lauren!” He came up to me.
“I didn’t know you were coming!”
“I can see that,” I said, crossing my arms.
“We’re about to play…. We’re next on, I was just grabbing a drink,” he was blabbing. “Did I tell you about the gig tonight?”
“I felt like coming out,” I said. “Watching you play. I always watch you play, don’t I?”
“Not lately,” he said. “Lately, it’s been all about the job.”
“At least you found someone to keep you busy,” I said, sarcastically indicating the girl who seemed to be waiting for him at the bar.
“Oh, that, that’s Mandy, she’s just a friend.”
“A friend?”
I didn’t know what to make of Dax or the way he was trying to pretend nothing was going on with him and this Mandy. I saw that we’d been drifting apart a lot over the past few weeks and I didn’t know what was keeping us together anymore, if I even wanted us to be together anymore.
“I’m glad you came,” he said, stepping forward, close enough to kiss me. I could smell him, a mixture of whiskey and smoke and old leather jacket.
“Are you now?” I said, still sarcastic.
He seemed to lose his temper then.
“Shit, Lauren! What do you want from me?”
“What about a little honesty?” I said, sharply. “Or is that not rock-and-roll enough for you?”
We were having a full-blown fight in the middle of the club, but it was so noisy that nobody seemed to hear. It was liberating, somehow, being able to say exactly what I was thinking and knowing that the party was going on around us.
“You want honesty? I’ll give you honesty,” he said, his voice shaking with anger. “How about how you’ve changed since you’ve gotten this job? I don’t recognize you anymore. You’ve become this corporate clone all about the money and the page clicks! It’s fucking boring!”
“You mean caring about my job? About something more than you for a change? Is that why you had to go out right away and find someone else to sit at your feet and stare adoringly at you on stage?”
“Fuck you,” he snapped. He was angry, I’d pushed him too far. But I was angry too, fed up with having to pretend I was dating a rock star when he was just another average musician with a massive ego that needed constant massaging.
“No, fuck you,” I said.
