Page 37 of Crazy Love
“I’m just being honest,” Ivy says, standing on one leg, and bowing forward as if she’s a skater. “You’d prefer that, wouldn’t you? I mean, I’m happy to play for Graham Callahan so you guys have a chance at fame, I’m just saying that I’m not going to sign a contract is all. I’m not interested in money and celebrity and all that stuff.”
“We get it,” Jessie says, and stomps off into the bathroom in a huff. A moment later, I hear the shower start to run.
“You understand, don’t you, Lowdy?” Ivy turns her rather intense gaze on me.
I find it faintly ridiculous having a conversation with someone who has her limbs in such a twist, but I nod. “Sure. I understand.” I pick at my fingernails while she cycles through several more poses, each more perplexing than the last.
“So, are we performing or not?” she asks, staring pointedly at the bathroom door once her routine is done.
“Honestly,” I shrug my shoulders.
“It’s just, I’d like to know what to put on.”
“How about whatever you feel like.”
“Cool,” she agrees, and pulls a tie-dyed smock thing out of her bag.
I’m glad she’s happy. Me, I’m just very, very tempted to leave this room, head back to 423 and offer myself up as a temporary bassist for Paradise Kiss. It might not be a secure position, but at least I wouldn’t have to put up with anymore of Jessie’s tantrums, or Ivy’s ambition apathy. And I’d be part of a band with drive and a future ahead of them, because I’ve realised Bitch Slap are going nowhere.
And like that, all the joy drains out of me.
-14-
Nathaniel Darke
“I assume you’ve tried sobering him up?” Dane asks, leaning over the tub to take a look at Knox. My brother looks far too good for this hour of the morning.
“A cold shower didn’t fix him, nor has being dragged halfway around the hotel, or punched,” I say.
“That wasn’t a punch, it was a prod,” Joel interjects. He scowls at Knox, who is completely unaffected by the venom being thrown his way. “If you want me to try the latter, I’m up for it.” He climbs to his feet. As do I.
“Punch, prod, they amount to the same thing when he can’t defend himself, Joel. For fuck’s sake leave him alone.”
Lightning fast, Dane slaps us both around the ears. “Quit bickering.” His calm is unnerving. Usually, he’s the hot-head we’re both piling on trying to calm down. He gingerly prods Knox, but gets no response. “So I’m assuming we’re fucked in terms of turning up and playing for Graham Callahan?”
“Yep.” Joel and I respond simultaneously.
At least we agree on some things.
“Finish the song?” Dane asks me. He turns away from the tub and finds himself a perch on top of the vanity unit.
“Nope.”
“Which all means Bitch Slap are going to walk off with our prize,” Joel says, deliberately aiming to incite Dane’s wrath. “All thanks to the chug-monster there.”
Knox hasn’t even thrown up on him.
Astonishingly, my brother doesn’t bite. He’s obviously dropped a few Zen tabs since Callahan stated his terms. Instead, he just scratches at the stubble he has on his chin.
“Bitch Slap aren’t walking off with anything, Joely-boy.”
“Yeah, they are,” Joel grouches. “Thanks to imbecile here.”
“Quit picking on him. He’s one of us, and we swore we’d stick together and support one another come thick or thin.”
“Hm, and how exactly is him being too fucking stoned to play, supporting me or acting in the spirit of togetherness?”
He slams his fist into the side of the bath, denting the plastic side panel.
