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“Wow. So, that’s what you do on tour? Like, between shows?” Allison asks.
“Yeah, that or we read. Lynds, how was that Raymond Carver book?”
“It was a good time. I’m startingSiddhartha.”
“Hell yeah!”
Allison looks confused. “So, that’s what you do, you … play board games and read?”
I almost don’t want to ask, “Al, what did you think we do?”
“I dunno. I figured there’d be at least one orgy. Maybe like, a groupie sneaks onto the bus in the laundry basket.”
“You stole that fromAnnie.”
“Well, I dunno! I expected more debauchery!”
“Oh, I can tell you about debauchery,” Vince starts, “Lynds, shall we tell her about—“
“We’re not telling my best friend about the time you got handcuffed to a fucking hotel bed!” I hiss. Allison hears it anyway.
“Handcuffs! Lyndsey! I didn’t know you had it in you!”
“Me neither, but they were there.”
“See, thinking back on it; I think our first mistake was finding a pair of handcuffs and thinking, ‘let’s give this a go.’ Where did they come from?” Vince muses.
“They weren’t yours?” Allison volleys back.
“I’m ruining my mystique here, but no. Before I met Lyndsey, I never would have agreed to an experience that kept in a singular location with no means of escape.”
Allison starts laughing, and soon, I’m laughing, too. Suddenly, I feel a presence behind me. A familiar voice calls out, “Vince? Lola? You’re still together?”
“It’s Lynd—" my voice falls away.
Fuck! Eve.
She stands before us, looking gorgeous as ever. I don’t think she has pores. How does she stay so naturally fucking dewy? She looks like an elf goddess. Her tan skin glows, her dark hair reaches her waist, and she dyed it since I saw her last. She wears a two-piece matching set of a pink crop top and skirt.
Vince startles. His chair tips forward with a thud.
“Eve! What are you doing in Laurel Canyon?”
“My acupuncturist has an office down the street. I like to go here for a refreshing cold pressed juice afterward. It helps me relax. But that’s a moot point now.” She glares in my direction.
“I still don’t know how you sleep at night after stealing my boyfriend right out from under my fucking nose. That’s, like, against feminism. We’re both women in the industry. How could you stab me in the back like that?” Eve says, her voice rising twooctaves. Her hands are clenched into fists at her sides, sparkling pink nails looking more like talons.
“I didn’t steal him,” I start.
“We were dating when tour started, and then I went to visit him, and all of a sudden, his tongue’s down your throat. What else do you call that?”
“Eve, I tried to break up with you before tour.” Vince is trying to keep his voice level.
“Right! Because you mether!Eve jabs a pink nail in my direction.
“No, because I didn’t want you to have to wait around for me.”
“Well, you did a terrible fucking job! You better watch out, Lyndsey.” Eve sneers, her voice dripping with venom.
