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JAX SLATER VOWS TO CHANGE DIRTY DAWG WAYS
JAX
Stroke after strokeand nothing relieves me. My trusty right arm is especially aching. Usually swimming calms my nerves, but lately I’ve been so stressed. After years out of the spotlight, I’m about to go back into the public eye, release my first solo album, and go out on my first solo tour. As soon as I make those announcements with my new PR team, I’ll once again be relevant. I’ll have to beef up security on my property to make sure no paparazzi hide in trees with their giant lenses. I’m also opening myself up to scrutiny.
I’m so stressed that I’ve even resorted to attending online meditation sessions at the suggestion of my therapist. He tells me learning techniques to manage my worries will help me get more comfortable going out in public post-breakup with my almost fiancé and fellow pop star, Maxine.
The problem is, I don’t want to be more social and I don’t want to go out in public alone. When you’re a pop star as famous as I am, everyone is always watching you. That’s why I quit yoga classes after one session. I thought going to a 5 a.m. class would be safe, because who wakes up that early in Los Angeles? A lot of people, apparently. I walked out.
The last thing I need is someone sneaking a cell phone picture of me in class and then selling it to the tabloids. I can picture the headlines poking fun at my escapades.Jax Slater Perfecting Positions For The Bedroom. Or,Downward Facing Dog: Womanizer Jax Slater At It Again.
I disagree with those who accuse me of being addicted to women. I’ve just had the opportunity to meet and have one-night stands with many willing females. That’s what happens when you join a boy band at age fifteen. By the time you’re in your thirties, like me, you’ve spent half of your life in the public eye and have millions of women vying for your attention.
With 5 Leo Hearts, I’ve traveled the world, sold over 100 million albums, and won countless awards. I’m so grateful for our fans. My career with 5 Leo Hearts would not exist without the dedication of our followers. They propelled us to the most popular musical group in the world at one point.
They also are responsible for stereotyping us into roles where we’ve felt trapped. Mario is the sensitive one. Jack, the oldest, is the responsible one who holds us together. Oliver is the fun, goofy one. My cousin, Ridge, is the youngest one, a.k.a the heartthrob. And I am the resident bad boy.
I got labeled the bad boy when I started to get tattoos. Coupled with the fact that I prefer to wear black, everyone just assumes I’m a rebel. For many years, I fed into it. I was raised by my single mother and my grandma near Orlando, Florida and didn’t have a male role model. Therefore, I did what I thought men do: date a lot of women. My mom always taught me to treat women with respect. And I respected their decisions to have one-night stands.
That’s where the paparazzi had their field days. Always photographing me leaving a club with a new woman by my side. That all stopped when I started exclusively dating Maxine. She tamed the beast.
I never thought someone could make me settle down, but I wanted to commit to a life with Maxine. I even set down roots and bought a big house in Los Angeles because she wanted to pursue a movie career. But things slowly fell apart when I brought up getting engaged.
“Baby, I love you, but look at my thighs,” Maxine said the night I mentioned us taking the next step. “They are perfect. Do you really think now is the time to talk about getting married and having kids? I just paid for the sculpting of this body and I’m not about to let pregnancy ruin it.”
I did love those thighs. And all her other surgically-enhanced curves. But I also wanted something real. “We don’t have to have kids right away. I just want to show the world you’re mine. Get you a big, sparkly ring.”
“Why don’t you just buy me some diamond earrings, babe? I’ll love those. I can wear my hair up on the next red carpet and tell everyone you gave them to me.”
It became obvious that Maxine and I were headed down two different paths. She lusted for fame and I merely put up with it as a condition to my career. I sewed my oats and was ready to settle down and get married. But Maxine, who is a few years younger, was just getting started acting. She didn’t want to put her career on hold and have kids. We eventually decided to call it quits.
“I think it’s time I move on,” I told her one night when she was soaking in a bubble bath. Part of me hoped that in her relaxed state, she would change her mind.
“Move again, Jax? We just unpacked! I’m not about to stuff all my precious jewelry in my purse again so the moving people don’t touch it with their grimy hands. Besides, I like the tub. The jets really massage my back. Standing all day on set in heels can really take its toll on a girl.”
I stepped into the bathroom and turned on the lights. Maxine lifted her head above a pile of bubbles as I blew out the candles on the edge of the tub.
“Our relationship is over, Maxine. I think we both know that. I want to get married and you don’t. There’s nowhere else for us to go.”
“I love you, babe. And I know you love me. Can’t we just wait a few years? We’re so good together.”
“Weweregood together. And I will always care about you. But there’s more to life then VIP parties and celebrity gifting suites. And I don’t want to hold you back.” I knew if I phrased it like that, Maxine would understand.
After a few moments of silence, Maxine sunk under the bubbles. I worried she was making an over-the-top scene. However, she was actually digging for the tub stopper. As sounds of the tub draining filled the air, she stepped out of the tub. I reached for her robe and handed it to her, as she said, “I agree. You’re right. This relationship is holding me back. How am I ever going to travel on set for roles while I’m worried about you here alone, missing me? This is for the best.”
“You should move out, Maxine. You can stay in the guest room tonight.” Then, I left the room without waiting for her response. I knew it didn’t cause her nearly as much pain to hear those words as I felt saying them aloud.
The next day, Maxine left and was officially moved out a week later. Now, I’ve been alone in this huge house, with an elevator I don’t need. I spend all my time in either my music studio or the gym, trying to ignore the emptiness.
Since then, I’ve gone on a few dates. But no one has held my interest enough for me to want to form a long-term relationship. The last girl I dated was a friend of Ridge’s wife, Kelly. She was a nice girl and I liked hanging out with her, but I think it was more because I also got to hang out with Ridge and Kelly. Once a guy gets tied down, it’s hard to get quality bro time. But, I totally understand that Ridge is in his newlywed phase. Anyway, I ended things with that girl. No sense in dragging things along when I knew I’d be leaving for tour. Luckily, she took it well. I wouldn’t be surprised if she expected to be just another one of bad boy Jax Slater’s conquests, anyway.
I pull myself out of the pool and pat myself dry with a towel. It’s a gorgeous morning so I decide to lounge. I used to host a lot of parties outside here with Maxine. We would fill the pool with oversized floats like swans and llamas. The more ridiculous, the better. Maxine liked to make a spectacle. I don’t miss those days, but I do wish I had someone by my side.
“What’s on your mind?” Lily, my housekeeper, asks. She hands me a glass of ice water. Lily knows me better than anyone. She’s like my second mother.
“Everything, Lily. My solo album is nothing like 5 Leo Hearts music. I’ve been writing hundreds of songs that reflect who I am now, but I don’t know if that’s going to resonate with my fans. Can I live up to the pop star I once was? Or will I let everyone, including myself, down?”
“Are you proud of your songs, Jax?”
