“Brando!”
The voice loved by millions. Distinctly sweet, but with a dark tone of huskiness that pulls at your sexuality the way a lifetime of therapy never could. A voice I believed in so much I staked my life on it. I’ve heard my name sung by that voice a thousand times, but it’s not singing the same song anymore; the notes are different now. Not the breezy melody of a girl who doesn’t know what she has, not the delighted wail of a woman discovering her body, not the sultry sonata of intimate promises. Now she squeals my name like a war cry.
“I thought I’d find you here,” she says when she draws close enough, though for me being in the same city is too close, “slumming it with the nobodies.”
I press a finger on Jax’s arm to signal for him to hold back. He knows I like to fight my own battles, but I also know he can’t stand seeing his friends get put down.
“It’s not so bad,” he says breezily anyway, impervious to her wiles, “I’ve only noticed a couple of nobodies so far.”
“What are you doing here, Lexi?” I say, wishing I had listened to the advice the yoga teacher gave me and taken that massage back at her place.
“We just wanted to show our appreciation,” Davis says, his croaky voice oozing out with so much slime I start to crave a shower. He’s a foot shorter than Lexi, perma-tanned the color of a ripe orange – but with only half the personality. “Her album’s just become one of the best-selling records of the internet era. Nearly a billion hits online for two of her singles. And it only released last week! If you hadn’t found her, I’d never have been able to come along and take her to the next level.”
“Stolen her, you mean.”
Davis emits a disgusting sound that I assume is supposed to be a laugh.
“This is LA! There’s no such thing as stealing here! It’s all just part of the process, and you did your part very well.”
I glance at Lexi – and immediately regret it. She’s smiling at me. Enjoying the sight of her little imp twisting the knife. I want her smile to make me angry, to make me hate her as much as she hates me, but it’s too fucking beautiful, too loaded with memories. She’s amazing, and I lost her.
“Yeah, I did my part well,” I say, sneering, every muscle in my body spoiling for a fight, “took her from nothing, built her up piece by piece, taught her what real music’s about, broke my back making her into what she is, before you came along and threw a tight dress and a few trendy producers at her, turned her from a musician into a pop product and reaped all the rewards.”
I notice the three big guys standing around us, dressed in black, shades and everything. My mind starts doing the math regarding how many times I could pummel Davis’ face before they peel me off. Then again, maybe they’re only here to protect Lexi. Maybe Davis isn’t part of their job.
Lexi laughs.
“’Real music’? You still talking about that, Brando baby? Is that why you’re here?” she says. “Listening to scruffy teenagers with bad hair trying to play guitar? Because it’s ‘real’?”
She turns around and waves toward the crowd, who are almost entirely facing her, away from the stage. They shout and raise their drinks, hold up their phones quickly to take pictures, as if confirming her point. She turns back to me with a red-lipped smile that’s even deadlier than it was seconds ago.
I open my mouth to say something, and in the split second before my voice comes out, Lexi’s spun on her heels and walked away, her elegant, tall body painful to watch as it gets smothered by her bodyguards.
“Good luck with the talent spotting…Brando baby,” Davis smirks, as he follows her like a designer dog.
I zone out, my vision blurry with anger, fists clenching. I’m about to stride outside and land some sweet fucking hits on Davis’ face when I see fingers snapping in front of me.
“Dude? You okay?”
I look to the side, the world coming back into focus. It’s Jax. He never left.
“Yeah,” I say, lying. “I’m good.”
“I guess some girls are so good at fucking they’ll fuck up your life too. You’re lucky she’s gone.”
The words are true, but I can’t force myself to believe them. Nothing makes me feel better about losing her. “Then why do I feel like someone just scooped out my insides?”
Jax shrugs. “You’re probably just hungry.”
I look at him and laugh.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, pointing at his watch. “Lizzie’s gonna start calling you a bad influence.”