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WitFit Jan/Feb 2013

90's Sex, drugs and rock-n-roll

Word Prompt: Artificial

-PoM-

"I still can't believe you just showed up last night. Here I was pissed off because you didn't answer when I called, and you were on your way to me."

Late morning light made his features clearer than the night before, beautiful even in their raggedness. His eyes had bags under them; his cheeks were too thin and made his facial features sharper. I traced my hand over his cheekbone. He gathered my body into his, stroked a hand up and down my bare back.

I shifted lazily, drawing my leg over his hip and snuggling into his warmth. "You look different. When's the last time you had a good meal?"

"No idea. We grab stuff from gas stations when we're hungry, grab a pizza sometimes after the shows. Touring isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Poor thing," I said, kissing the knot of his shoulder bone. "Soon as you get home I'm going to make you the biggest dinner."

"Soon as I get home I'm taking you to my bed for a week," he said. "I miss the way your skin tastes. Sometimes it's all I can think about."

The hand that had been drawing nonsensical patterns on my back fell down below the sheet, headed up the backs of my thighs. I reciprocated by lightly grazing my fingers over the muscles of his stomach and down.

"You can taste it now."

He flipped me over and earned a squeal for it. I laughed when the hair of his jaw scratched my stomach and then gasped when it rubbed the skin over my panties.

"Oh, I will," he said.

I had my hands clenched tightly in his hair when a pounding on the door made him jerk his head up and stop the delicious things he was doing.

"Go away," he yelled. "We're busy."

"Who the hell is that?" I sat up, too, gathered the sheet around my body.

He looked at the clock next to the bed and cursed. "Goddamn Rose, probably. She's a fucking pest.""

The pounding stopped and I began to move the sheet away so we could get back to what we were doing, but then there was a click and the hotel door shot open.

"Jeez, Rose!" I shouted, diving to cover Edward's nakedness.

"You guys have twenty minutes to get downstairs."

Edward grumbled under his breath behind me. I knew I should tell him that the things he was saying were rude and to be nicer, but I kind of agreed with him right then.

"Can't we just meet you there?" he said.

"No. Get your asses up and showered. I'm not sitting in the van with you if you smell like sex. Oh, and clothes would be nice, too. Nice ass, Edward. Later."

I stared at the door as it closed behind her, and then turned to look at him. "I don't know whether to laugh or hit her for checking out your butt. Does she always do this? And why on earth does she have a key to your room?"

"Yes. I swear that girl is in the wrong career—she'd have made a decent drill sergeant. Been like that since Ty started fucking up. She harasses the hotel people until she gets a key to every room."

"He's doing better, then?"

Edward stood up and started tossing his things toward his duffel bag. I watched him move, appreciating the sans-clothes sight. "Yeah, he's been clean since we left New York."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, I'm glad."

"I am too, baby. We were all really stressed worrying about him and if he was going to be all right. It was a rough few months there."

I shifted until I was sitting with my legs touching the floor and sent a silent whisper of thanks to whoever was listening. I'd known things had been bad from what Rose had told me, but Edward had played it off when I asked. Knowing that that stress had been heaped at his and the other guys' feet made his testiness lately take on a different meaning.

"Yeah. Well, guess we better get and take showers, then."

"Share with me?"

He pulled me up, fitting my body to his, and I knew he didn't want to take a shower together to just save time.

"Mmm. We're going to be late."

"Don't care."

-PoM-

The two vans the record label had provided were already running when we crossed the parking lot forty-five minutes later, wet heads and all. I tried to ignore the catcalls and whistles that greeted us and dove for an empty seat toward the back.

Because they were a new band they hadn't yet earned the luxury of a bus, which sucked because I'd always wanted to see what the inside of one of those behemoths looked like, but the van was at least one of those huge ones that seated about ten people comfortably. Edward had already explained the rules to me.

No foods that had onion or garlic in them.

Shoes had to remain on at all times or risk being tossed out the window: AKA the Emmett rule number one because apparently his feet were rank.

Driver got radio control, even if they wanted to listen to something lame like ABBA.

No farting: AKA Emmett rule number two

After stowing our bags in the second van, where the gear and everything else resided, Edward crawled in beside me and waved his hand over the papers I was looking through.

"Whatcha doing?" he whispered when I swatted his hands away.

"Peter faxed my article edits to the hotel this morning. They're what I went to find while you were finishing up in the room."

"You have to work while you're here?"

"Yeah, unfortunately."

"You'll get some time, then. The next show is a six hour drive."

Is it like this all the time?" I whispered, loving the quiet conversation we were having. Even with a van full of people, it felt intimate.

Everyone else was either passed out or had headphones on, and I wondered how late they'd stayed up. Rose was already conked out, head resting on a pillow against the window of the passenger seat and Emmett was humming off-key to some awful country station.

"Usually. Sometimes after a really great show we're a little crazy, but most of the time we try and get whatever rest we can."

I set my papers down and propped my knee on the seat between us. "Do you like it?"

He stared out of the window and I waited.

"Basically, yeah. There are times when I just want my own bed and to not have to be on all the time, but mostly it's pretty cool. I'm tired though, and I don't like being away from you so much. Price you pay, huh?"

I nodded. "Guess so. It's gotta be cool seeing new fans, right?"

He smiled. "Yeah, that's pretty awesome. We'll figure it out as we go. Maybe next time you can come out with us more."

"Maybe," I said. I'd been thinking about that, too. The distance was hard and it was something that I'd need to decide on.

Tyler took off his headphones, turned in his seat. "Hey, Bella. Didn't get to talk to you last night much. Pretty cool of you to drop in on us."

Like everyone else, Tyler looked a little ragged but I could see the positive differences in his appearance, too. His skin wasn't so sallow, the eyes were clear and present. And his smile was like it used to be, all wide and infectious and welcoming.

I leaned forward and tugged on one of his dreads. "Well, what can I say? I missed my favorite guys. It was impulsive as hell, but it was worth every penny."

Edward rubbed his hand over the small of my back as I settled back in my seat and took a slug from the large coffee he was holding. "Next time I'm paying. You need to knock this shit off. Let me take care of you for once."

Jasper, who I thought was asleep, spoke without opening his eyes "As annoying as it is to hear you two lovebirds yammer on, I'm fucking happy as hell that you did show up, Bella. I was ready to start giving him some Midol."

Shocked that he'd acknowledged me, and doubly so because it wasn't his usual brusque response to me, I shook my head and laughed. "I have some in my bag . . ."

Edward pinched my side while everyone else started to laugh, and it felt so good to be here. These people were my family, and I loved them all—except Jasper. Him I tolerated because, as much of a prick that he could be, he was Edward's friend and a driving force behind the band.

Maybe someday we'd be friendly.

At the next gas stop we switched up the seating arrangement. Emmett, Ben and Tyler called for a nap; Rose was just starting to wake up and said she'd rather sit next to me. Jasper took over driving duties and Edward took over shotgun while Rose and I parked ourselves on the bench seat behind the front.

Apparently Jasper's choice for radio control was none at all—he hummed a few bars of something I didn't recognize and Edward joined in, singing along quietly.

I listened to the words as he sang—they resonated deep inside my chest because they felt like a story I already knew. It was happiness and satisfaction in the middle of something dark and unforgiving, and I turned my head to stare out of the window and hide the tears gathering in my eyes.

When they began to talk about arrangements and lyrics that needed a change, I turned to Rose who was scribbling stuff in a notebook. "Whatcha working on?"

"Just the plans for the launch party. The record company wanted it to be in L.A. but that's so bogus. We're from Seattle and that's where it should be. They gave in after I promised it'd be big and splashy and fun."

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Sure." She dug through a box I'd just noticed on the floor, handed me a stack of papers. "Just look over the final invites and match it with this one. I don't want to forget anyone."

A few minutes passed and then a name caught my attention. "Ugh. You invited James? Why? That dude's such a freaking creep."

"Well, Em used to play sometimes with his band so I put them on the list. Can't leave one out, sadly. Oh, hey! How did that interview go? You never told me if you got it done or not."

Because Edward had cocked his head like he was listening, I shot her a look that told her to drop it. "I'm finishing it up now. The show was pretty much ridiculous but I had fun because Leah went with me. The interview was basically him giving me all of these canned responses. Not much to work with so cross your fingers for me that it doesn't put the readers to sleep."

"Bummer. You'll do a good job though, chick. You always do."

We worked for a few more minutes in silence. "Speaking of work . . . Seems like you've been doing an amazing job. The buzz back home is so cool and the record hasn't even been released yet. ."

"I do all right," she said smugly. "If these dickheads would stop making a fuss about doing a video, however . . ."

Edward groaned. "We'll get to it, Rose. We'd like to have a moment to breathe, first."

"Blah blah blah. I hear you talking but the words sound like excuses. You could do it in the middle of a show and then shoot something at home and be done with it."

"We're working on the fans first," Jasper said, staring at her for a second in the rearview mirror. "We'll do it when we get home. You know we want to be shot there."

She turned to me. "Honestly, it'll probably be like filming kindergartners at play time. Especially with Emmett and Ben. Can you just imagine?"

I laughed. "The show thing sounds like a cool concept, actually. Do it at home and the crowd will be amazing."

"This is what I'm saying," Jasper said. "Bella gets it."

I leaned over and whispered in Rose's ear, "Are we in the Twilight Zone?"

When we stopped for lunch at a fast food place, Rose and I took our time going inside by begging off with the excuse of smoking a cigarette. "Is it really going okay? I came because I got a funky vibe from that interview."

"It's getting better, promise. First Tyler was a wreck, and then Edward started acting like we took his favorite toy away from him. Plus, I think the label stuff is getting to them a little. It's different, ya know?"

"Yeah, Edward's big on artistic integrity. Not going to like his songs to be conceptualized by someone else."

"That's for sure." She stubbed her cigarette out." I'm so glad you came out. He really misses you. I miss you."

I tried to blow it off because I felt clingy for missing him every single day. "Eh, he doesn't need me 24/7. He probably was just horny."

"Nah, you ground him. I can see it almost immediately when you're nearby. Having you close allows him to let go. Like it's safe for him to jump off."

I kind of had the same feeling. The two of us together . . . I felt like we could conquer anything.

"He doesn't want to admit how much he needs you."

"Are you talking about me?"

I jumped and then turned around. Edward stood at the door, a smile on his face. "Yup. Rose was just telling me that you've been incredibly grumpy."

"I have not."

"Are you kidding me? I was about ready to punch you in the balls in New Haven. I had one nerve left and you were on it."

He chuckled. "It wasn't that bad."

"Hmfph. Says you."

-PoM-

The week spent on the road with the band was a lot of fun. I was able to see two more shows and spend a lot of time with Edward before I had to leave, and a bonus was that it ate up a good portion of the time left until I could see him again.

The last days of their tour flew by, my article was finished on time and ready to go to press, and my off time was spent helping Rose with last minute details that she couldn't get done from the road. It was set for two days after they returned and being held at RKCNDY this time, a location central for everyone involved.

Edward chose to fly separate from the band again to get home, and picking him up from the airport the second time was much, much easier. For one thing his flight arrived in the morning and he'd slept some on the plane, and for another we hadn't been apart as long.

Not that it made any difference when we got back to his place. The night he'd returned, while he was dozing in bed after a round of mattress testing—and it hurt for me to walk—I headed out to the store and picked up the fixings for a recipe of my Grandma's, a chicken and rice dish that made enough food to feed a hungry rockstar leftovers for three days.

But I didn't care. He was home and we had some time before they had to go back out for any major touring. The record was coming out and I couldn't wait to be able to go buy a copy in the stores to add to the one on my CD shelf that I'd already pilfered. Everything felt so right.

-PoM-

The night of the party I took extra care in getting ready. My hair was left in loose curls down my back, makeup done with a little help from the drugstore counters, and my royal blue dress was sexy, but not skanky. I twirled in front of the bedroom mirror, checking out different angles and making sure I didn't have weird, lumpy places.

"Hello, gorgeous. What did I do to deserve this?"

I looked up, caught his gaze wandering over my frame, and turned back and forth to show off a little more. "I take it you like?"

"Like? We're not gonna make it to the party."

"Yes, we are. You need to behave right now because I have to get there early to help Rose. The bigwigs are invading."

"Whatever. But keep in mind that you're all mine later."

"Done."

Two hours later we were in the thick of things. The party itself seemed to going off without a hitch; Edward was plucked and grabbed at every opportunity by a executive or a media person or people just wanting to congratulate him on a job well done; the music piping over the speakers was getting a lot of positive compliments from the snatched of conversation I overheard.

I was waiting for Edward to bring me a drink when I thought I saw Lauren, but a group of guys in suits walked past and obscured my line of sight. When they'd passed by the girl was gone, and I shrugged it off. Lots of girls here sort of looked like her, to be honest: a little messy in their vintage dresses and motorcycle jackets.

A hand moved over my side.

"Excellent. I'm thirsty. What took you so lo—oh. James, hello." I stepped away from the touch and looked over my shoulder for Edward.

"Bella. I saw your article in this week's Rocket. You didn't seem impressed with the show."

I fought to keep the grimace off of my face. "I must admit that I'm not a fan of the new style your band has gone in, but both myself and my editor thought the review to be a fair one."

"Well, I thought it was horseshit. Your little review made me look like a fool."

"No, it didn't. The article was written from my notes and a recorded transcript of our interview. The review of the show was my opinion, and it was neither rude nor based on my personal feelings. I'm sorry you didn't like it."

"James."

He backed off and, as I stepped back in to Edward's side, I noticed how he'd been towering over me.

"Hey, Ed. Looks like things are taking off for you. New album, big tour, hot girl. . ."

Edward shifted beside me, muscles of the arm wrapped around me tensing. I placed my hand on his thigh to hold him from going off.

"Things couldn't be better," he said in a clipped tone. "And you? Got that deal yet?"

He was rubbing it in his face, now. I anticipated something bad, but the redhead from the night of the concert strolled up then dressed in a barely there dress and holding a drink.

She looked between us, clearly noticed the standoff happening, and rolled her eyes. "James, they've got an open bar. Let's go get wasted, and then you need to meet this guy. He's making a documentary on the music coming out of Seattle."

He departed with a look at Edward and me that showed how much he disliked the both of us, and I took a deep breath.

"Well, that was fun."

"What the hell was that about?" Edward said, pulling me in to a quiet corner.

"He didn't like my review of his show. Thought the interview made him look 'like a fool', which, if it did, is his own fault."

"Don't wanna say I told you so, but . . ."

"Yeah, yeah. You told me so. Whatever, it's done and he can complain all he wants, but if he'd made the time for a proper interview and not been such a self-involved jerk maybe the interview could have canceled out the show write-up."

"If he bothers you again, tell me and I'll knock his fucking lights out. I don't like that prick."

"Deal," I said. "Now, let's go find that guy making a documentary before he does. Wouldn't want the poor guy to have to talk about weird rock operas."

-PoM-

The party had gone on late into the night, and we left with a promise to Rose and Emmett to meet for lunch the next day. A bit of normalcy was sorely needed after weeks of stop and go and a night of the highest of dreams coming true. The sound of a phone woke me from a deep sleep that hadn't gone on long enough as far as I was concerned.

I glanced at the clock, saw that it was barely eight in the morning, and nudged Edward awake.

"Babe, get the phone," I muttered. "I can't reach it."

"Wha? What the fuck is that noise?"

The phone stopped ringing, and I stared at Edward. "I'm going back to sleep."

He draped himself around me and pulled me close, and the phone rang again. He groaned and then fumbled for the cordless behind him, dropping it once before he tucked it between his shoulder and his ear.

"Hello?" I watched his face as he was jarred awake.

"What? When!" He flew up in to a sitting position. "No, no fucking way. Are you sure?"

I turned to look at him, lost my breath as his face crumpled and he slumped over, elbows to his knees while he listened to whatever was being said on the phone. The absolute stillness of his body scared me into sitting up, too.

"Edward . . . ?"

His voice was destroyed as he sucked in a breath, said, "I'll be right over."

The blood in my veins went cold when he threw the phone and it shattered against the wall. The happiness of last night seemed an artificial dream that I wanted back right then.

"Fuck!"

"Edward, what is it? What happened?"

"Ty's dead."

-PoM-

'Tragedy is a tool for the living to gain wisdom, not a guide by which to live' - Robert Kennedy

Song: Chloe Dancer/Crown of Thorns – Mother Love Bone