AllFreeNovel
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The only thing that helps is music. Music and drugs.
Cocaine is a high that I wasn't looking for. Something I barely dabbled in back in the beginning days of my tours. Not something I even needed, because I knew Luna wouldn't be happy about it. So, I usually steered clear.
But now that Luna's gone, there's nothing else in my life that I'm looking forward to more than smashing my face into a pile of white powder. I want to ingest every last grain, until my brain is so far gone, I'll never think of her and her gray eyes again.
It's never that easy.
Her face, her body, every single thing about her bleeds out on the pages as I write lyrics. My songs are songs about love lost, soulmates broken, and hate, so much fucking hate for a world that doesn't give me what I want.
The upside is, is that the music is fucking good.
Apparently, broken hearts lead to good music.
We create number one hit after number one hit, surpassing even the major record labels and the most powerful voices, shoving them out of the top seats with just a simple fucking vocal.
"Where'd you go, just now?" Brandy says, scratching her nails down the back of my neck.
I look over at her, hating her muddy eyes and her hair that is two shades too light. Her body isn't right, either, but that doesn't stop me from wrapping my fingers around her thick thighs as I plow into her from behind. Anything to dull the pain, even though it doesn’t dull it.
Not even an inch.
"Nowhere, I'll see you after the show." I push her off me, grabbing my aviators and slipping them on my face. Nothing is worse than being high as fuck and having the heavy, bright lights blast me in the face. It's painful. The glasses help.
Standing up, I press on Brandy’s shoulders, slipping past her just as Lonnie walks in. His eyes are bloodshot, and I know he just had his own bump of coke.
The guys were the ones that got me into it, being way more willing to try out the different drugs the rock-and-roll life had to offer. They had their eyes open, and their arms splayed wide for any girl and any drug to fall into their laps.
After Luna left me, I took the reins.
They don't partake like I do. I dip, and I dip heavy. I fuck, and I fuck hard. I don't want the easy life, not anymore. I want the gritty, raw, edgy part of being on the road all year. I don't want to live on the surface, I want to bury myself in the wrongdoings of the world.
Being on tour with my dad, he learned quickly what kind of life I was living. He understood, since being a star, drugs and whores come with it. A package deal of sorts. But he didn't want me to lose myself in the process. He asked me to slow down.
Doesn't he know? I lost myself that day back in Shallow Lake.
I fucking died that day, and no one seems to realize that.
"Ready?" Lonnie asks, adjusting his jean vest over his naked shoulders. Tattoos line his arms all the way down to his wrists. I slap him on the back as I walk past him.
"Let's do this shit."
The moment I walk through the door, the screaming crowd blasts me in the face. I walk down the hall, the voices shoutingCataclysm, Cataclysm, their voices vibrating through the ground. I can feel their shouting hit me directly in my chest, making my heart race as I head for yet another show.
It's the only place I can go and show how I'm really feeling. The place I can openly reveal that I've been dying a slow death. Show them the blood that's been dripping from me since that day in her room. The pain I feel every single day, I scream it with my words. I howl out the pain that rips from my chest. I can't take the pain. It builds and builds, and with each show, I can expel it from my lungs. It's the only place I really feel at home anymore.
We get to the back of the stage, where Clyde and Flynn are already waiting for us. I give them a nod, unable to say any words to them with the crowd shouting so loudly.
In the next second, we're walking through the back of the stage. The crowd goes wild when they see us. Flynn walks to the drums, while I walk to the center of the stage and grab my guitar from the stand. Clyde walks to my left, grabbing his bass, and Lonnie walks to my other side, grabbing his guitar.
The four of us are Cataclysm, and we rock shit like no other.
The lights are dim, and the crowd is a sea of heads. Black leather and blue jeans fill the entire floor. Women stand in the front, and I watch as one with a crop top lifts her shirt, showing off her large breasts. They jiggle with her jumps, her friend going wild and screaming when she notices what she's doing.
I shake my head.People are fucking wild.
I slide my guitar strap over my shoulder, testing a string and stopping it quickly. I walk up to the microphone, smiling at the crowd as I mumble, "How're y'all doing tonight?"
They go wild, screaming so loud it makes my ears pop. The room is hot, the bodies creating heat and making a thin sweat break out on the back of my neck.
