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“It’s a picture of me on the stage.” I lift my head and lock eyes with him. “But why?”
“Darlin’, you need to sign that for me so when you’re famous, I can say you played here, and I got the world’s best hug from that stunning beauty who sang in my bar.”
He points to a marker on the bar, and I snatch it up to scribble my name across the bottom white border of the photo. Gary hangs it up behind the bar on a corkboard that’s filled with photos of customers and other no-name performers.
“Thanks, Gary. I’m outta here, but I will be back someday.” I blow him a kiss as I pick up my guitar case and stuff my tips into my purse.
“Bye Apple.” Gary waves. “I look forward to seeing you again someday sweetheart. Stay safe.”
“Will do! Bye!”
Heading for the back door, I pull out my phone to text my parents that I’ll be on my way to my next stop after a few hours of sleep. Memories assault my brain as I navigate toward Stella.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Mom asks, wringing her hands as I put the last suitcase into the van.
I roll my eyes as I shut the door. “Mom, we’ve been over this.”
“I don’t understand why you just won’t go to college first and have something to fall back on when this blows up in your face.”
I take a few deep breaths before I turn around and face her. We’ve had this same argument since I told my parents that I was giving up my scholarship to hit the road and follow my dreams. Unfortunately, that didn’t fit within my parent’s expectations for my future.
My parents aren’t rich, by any means. I’ve grown up in what you would call an upper middle-class household, with both my mom and dad working as accountants. Do we have a comfortable life? Yes, absolutely. But it’s been a boring existence. They get up, work, come home, make dinner, and go to bed. Every day is the exact same. Sure, before graduation, there were school activities and guitar lessons for me but no spark at all. Since I was ten years old, I’ve promised myself that I would live an exciting life and follow my passion. Not exist just to exist like my parents.
Music is my passion.
It’s opened a door I never want to see shut. At fourteen, my choir teacher discovered that I had a voice that could be strengthened and volunteered to give me voice lessons after school. Every day for the last four years, I showed up for those voice lessons and also figured out that I enjoy playing the piano and guitar. I begged my parents to let me take lessons for both, and I know they thought it was just a phase and not something I’d continue to pursue into adulthood.
“I want to show the world what I can do. I’ve been telling you this for the last couple years,” I explain for the thousandth time.
“We thought this was just a damn phase,” Dad barks.
I wince at his tone but stand my ground. “I have to try. I love music, and I’m good at it. I don’t want the white picket fence and two-point-five kids and a husband. I want to live!”
I don’t even realize I’m crying until a tear lands on the phone screen. I haven’t been home in over a year. When I first left, I stuck close to Wisconsin and the neighboring states, but now I’m venturing farther away. Playing local bars and clubs has been fun but if I’m going to be serious about my career choice, I need to go where the music is. So, I’m making my way to Nashville, Tennessee, the country music capital of the world, to try my luck there.
An arm wraps around my waist, startling me, and a hand covers my mouth. I scream, but it’s muffled.
“Hey sexy, remember me?” A deep voice murmurs in my ear before I’m spun around and pinned to the side of my van. My head bounces off the driver’s side door, causing a moan to slip past my lips. “Oh yeah, you remember me.”
The man leers at me, and I recognize him as the creepy guy who Gary threw out of the bar earlier tonight during my set because he was being a douchebag. He currently has me at his mercy, and I wish I would’ve taken Gary up on his offer to walk me to Stella.
“Travis, save a piece for me,” another voice booms from behind the creep.
Great, dickhead number two joined the party.
My heart pounds, but I don’t show them any fear. Pricks like this get off on shit like that, and I refuse to give them more ammunition to use against me even though I feel like I might pass out at any moment. Someone will come out of the bar at any second. I just have to hold on.
Who’re you kidding? The bar was empty except for you and Gary, and he’s got the music cranked so loud while he cleans, I can still hear it. Which means he won’t hear you scream, and you’re on your own.
Travis takes advantage of my predicament and slides his hand down to grip my neck, cutting off my air supply. I claw at him in an effort to get him to release me when dickhead number two grabs my arms. Travis pulls me away from the door and dickhead number two puts his body between me and the van, gripping my wrists behind my back, which is pressed against his front.
Travis leans in close and licks the tears off my face. I shudder at the contact, unable to stop myself.
“She tastes so sweet,” Travis murmurs as he drags his tongue over his lips as if trying to capture more of my taste. “Hot bitch like her likes it rough. I can tell.” He laughs as I frantically shake my head and struggle to get free.
I’m frozen in fear, hoping that if I don’t move, they’ll get over their sick little game and let me go. Those thoughts are obliterated when douchebag number two snakes a hand under my shirt and pinches my nipple through my bra.
“Yeah, pluck her nipples harder,” Travis sneers, egging on his friend. “Bitch likes it. She played hard to get all night, and now I’m gonna show her what happens to stuck-up pussies who don’t appreciate a man hitting on them.”
