The Note Part 3
*Your POV*
The next few days that followed were uneventful for the most part. You travelled with the 4 of them while they were on tour, doing various odd jobs to feel like you actually had a purpose of being there. Greg kept your nerves calm by smoking weed with you, Ryan was helping you learn improv comedy, and Chip looked after you like a father would. Then… there was Jeff.
"I know that this is going to seem damn near impossible for you Jeff, but please try not to flirt with Becca or get with her. We're trying to create a family feel for this girl, and we can't have you fucking it up." This is what you heard in hushed voices from the back of the bus from Chip. All your life you'd had a huge crush on Jeff Davis, and now that you were practically living with him, he was off limits. But you knew his style, and it was something that you were anxious to get away from.
"For fuck's sake Chip, who do you think I am? I'm not some fucking man-whore," you heard Jeff growl back. Becca's a good little whore. That word… that word hurts. "I've known you long enough to know how you operate, probably better than you do. All I'm saying is take it down a notch," Chip murmured and then walked outside to join Ryan and Greg.
You had been sitting on the couch the entire time, pretending that you didn't hear a word of what they were saying. But you couldn't even look at Jeff anymore without feeling Paul's cold hand tauntingly rub against your cheek. Whore. You're a whore, and Jeff thinks you're a whore. Then for the first time in days, you started to cry, trying to escape behind the arms to your sweatshirt.
*Jeff's POV*
"Hey, what's wrong?" I ask Becca, taking a seat next to her. However as soon as I put my arm around her shoulders she tensed up and moved away. She wasn't even making eye contact with me. "What's wrong?" I repeated. Becca just shook her head and left the bus, leaving me dumbfounded and confused. Well Chip, it looks like you won't have anything to worry about.
*Ryan's POV*
Becca came storming out of that bus with surprising speed, walking with her head down and arms crossed. "Where are you going?" I holler to her, but she ignores me and keeps going. "Well that's not good," I mutter. Chip comes over to me with a concerned look on his face. "Who were you just yelling at?" I point over in the direction that she left. "Becca. She started racing away."
Jeff trudges outside with whiskey in hand. "What happened?" Chip storms over to him, the concern for Becca turning into anger towards Jeff. "What the hell did you say to her?"
"I didn't say anything at all! Why do you always assume I did something?"
"That's because you always do!"
"Guys, guys!" I interrupt. "Jesus Christ, you sound like an old married couple. She's 18; let her make her own decisions. Give it a rest, I would need a break from us too if I were her." They both stare at me but finally sit down, though Chip still looks worried.
*Your POV*
Living on the streets for a while gave you the advantage of natural instinct when it came to unfamiliar territory. You had no idea where you were or who anyone was around here, but you somehow knew what was safe and what wasn't. Then why did you find yourself heading right for a run-down, seedy pub? It's familiar, that's why.
You strut into the bar, and it's filled to the brim with burly, middle-aged men who were almost instantly undressing you with their eyes. The smile that you perfected lit up your face, and you became so bold as to actually give one of the guys a wink as you passed them. Your sweatshirt was gone, left in the alleyway for someone else that needed it; you'd transformed into who you were before, with a skimpy undershirt on and jeans that were so tight they might as well have been painted there.
"Dry vodka martini," you purr to the bartender, who nods and begins to mix it. A fat, hairy man takes the stool next to you. "Sam Adams lager," he grumbles, then notices you beside him. "Hel-lo there sweetheart. What's your name?" A smirk comes across your face. My old game. "Becca, and yours?" He introduces himself as Butch, and slips his hand underneath yours. "So what's a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this?" God, this guy was gnarly, but you ignored it well. "Just lookin' for a fella," you vaguely respond.
You and Butch kept on talking, letting him touch your thigh and rub your sides. He bought you another drink, and after you'd finished that, you moved right along to the next one. A man in the corner caught your eye, so you waltzed over and leaned against the closest wall. "What are you doin' all by yourself?" you giggle. The man looked up and licked his lips. "Well maybe now you can keep me company," he said as he patted his lap. Pushing all of your moral judgment aside, you sit over his legs and work the magic you knew so well.
*Jeff's POV*
A couple of hours had now passed, and none of us had seen or heard from Becca. Chip nervously paced around the living area, tuning out Ryan and Greg's attempts to calm him. In the midst of worry, I snuck outside and started off to a place I knew of and hoped I wouldn't find her.
As I approach the shitty-looking bar, my heart pounds faster and the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach grows. For once, I wasn't focused on getting a drink, on the party, on the girls. Becca was the only thing on my mind, and I wanted her home safe. I yank open the wooden door but the men and the music inside were so loud that no one even looked my way. My eyes scan the crowd in hopes that I wouldn't succeed and find her here, but her blonde hair in a room full of guys stuck out like a sore thumb. She was straddling someone over in the corner, his hands caressing every inch of her body and she didn't even care. In fact, she looked as if she was… encouraging him.
I push people aside until I get to her, trying my best to keep my composure but failing. I grab Becca by the wrists and rip her from the strangers grasp. "Come with me, now." The man protests but remains seated as I drag her outside. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I keep hold of her and stare at her with mixed emotions. "You know baby you should've waited your turn! I woulda come around," she replies flawlessly, but despite her tone, her expression was ice cold. "Knock this shit off Rebecca." She rolls her eyes at me and tears away from my grip. "Why does it matter to you? You usually enjoy this type of thing, right? I mean, fuck what Chip says. We can have something… special."
She stands up on her tiptoes and brings her lips to mine, kissing me slowly at first, but I felt her tongue begging to get in. I wrap my arms around her and open my mouth, allowing our tongues to play together. She begins to press into me and something wakes me from the fog I was in.
*Your POV*
Jeff suddenly shoves you away and wipes off his lips. "Bec, stop. Don't fucking do that to me." He sounds frustrated with himself, but there was some sick satisfaction feeling that you won. Not that it was very difficult. "Just… follow me please," his voice softened as he took your hand and interlaced his fingers with yours. "You're being very misleading," you mention, but get no response. He finally sits down on a bench in an empty, nearby park and gently pulls you down with him.
"Becca, did I do something to cause this?" Jeff asks. You sigh and drop your head. "You certainly don't beat around the bush, do ya?" He reaches around to turn you toward him and you flinch back instantly, causing Jeff to retract his hand just as quick. "Just look at me," he pleads, and you finally manage to meet his doting gaze. "I know that I have an image to me that's not always a good one. And I know that to people who aren't close to me think that that's all I am, because I have a hard enough time convincing Chip that I'm fine. Hear me out though. You're not just some whore off the streets we picked up, and I don't think of you as that, none of us do."
"What makes you fucking think that this is all about you?" you instinctively snap back. "There you go again with your goddamn ego." Jeff bites his lip and this time it's his turn to look away. He seems hurt, you should stop. "Everything's always gotta revolve around you. Everyone loves you, girls want to sleep with you, and people are concerned for you." You fucking hypocrite, stop. You stand up and face him. "Well guess what asshole? For once, I can make things about me. They love me, they want me. I can work the same fucking game that you can."
Your tirade ends and you take a moment to actually look at Jeff. His fists are white-knuckle clenched and his eyes are boring holes into the ground, wiping his cheeks with the sleeve of his suit. He makes eye contact with you and with a trembling voice says, "Becca, I don't think this is you."
*Jeff's POV*
Those words are what tore down the wall. She collapsed on the grass and started sobbing into her lap, muttering apologies. I kneeled down in front of her and hugged her, careful not to get the blood on my palms from my fingernails onto her shirt. "You must hate me," she choked out over tears, but I merely chuckled and looked into her pools of blue. "I could never hate you." A small smile flickered across her face, which made me grin in turn. "Jeff, I wanna go back home with the guys," she said to me after a brief silence. "Of course," I answer and help her to her feet while I hold her hand all the way back to the tour bus.
It felt good to hear Becca refer to that stupid thing as home… but a depressing thought lingered in the back of my mind that I knew we'd all eventually have to deal with.