April’s cat-like eyes flashed in front of my face, and I felt myself becoming aroused. She’d sung along to every single song we’d played at rehearsal, her eyes never leaving me. I knew she’d been watching me even while I had my eyes closed. Her gaze was that powerful. After rehearsal, I hadn’t seen her, but we’d been in a hurry to get back to the hotel and get ready for the concert. Which more than likely meant Bex and Johnny were banging each other’s brains out in every position possible. I sure as shit learned not to knock on their door before a concert. Or after a concert. Or ever. Kids or no kids, they didn’t act any different.
The image of April’s ample cleavage in her low cut shirt the first night I met her filtered through my thoughts. I reached down and stroked myself, watching in the mirror as I became fully erect. It would take the edge off, help me relax and play better tonight. It would get her out of my system. I hissed out a breath as I ran my hand over the ridge and down my shaft. I felt the release coming quickly, and I began moving faster.
You’re worthless. You’re just like him. You’re a fucking monster. I shook my head against the sudden onslaught of memories. You’re a piece of shit. I dropped my hand from my dick, my drive deflated. This was why I didn’t deserve to even jack off to her image. I was a worthless, piece of shit monster. I was put on this earth to play my drums, and that was it.
I gripped the counter, my eyes wide and wild. I forced air in and out of my lungs, closing my eyes so I didn’t see my reflection. When I inspected myself close enough in the mirror, no amount of tattoos could hide it. I was his son. His blood ran through me. I could never escape who I was.
I was a monster.
“Beau,” Natalie called. The roadies ran around us, making sure everything was set up and tuned correctly to start the concert. We were moments from performing, and I could hear the crowd screaming “Jaded Regret” over and over. My blood pumped through my veins in excitement. This was what I did this for, right here.
“Yeah.”
“I know you’re not okay today.” It was a simple statement. To someone walking by, it would be innocent. To us, it was laced with underlying meaning.
“I am. I’m ready to play.” It was a lie, but she didn’t need to know that.
“You’ve been off since you got up this morning. Do we need a visit?”
Her question meant do we need to go to the hospital and get a “boost,” a flooding of medication in my system to balance me out when my regular meds weren’t doing it. I shook my head. “No. I’m all right, Nat.”
You’re a worthless piece of shit. I gritted my teeth, my blood pressure pounding in my ears. I wasn’t far from needing that visit, but I was determined to fight through it.
She blew out a breath. “Beau. Don’t be afraid to admit you aren’t okay. It doesn’t make you weak.”
I hugged her, wanting to lash out at her but knowing it wasn’t her fault. “I know, Nat. I know. I’m pumped and ready to play. I’ll let you know if I’m not okay.”
She nodded. “Okay. Bex wants everyone for a minute.” I followed her into a small space behind the stage. Johnny’s hand rested on Bex’s backside. Tanner smiled as I walked up, his perfect blond hair resembling a surfer, not a rock star.
Bex stared at me just a beat too long, and I wondered if Natalie had talked to her. I swore I didn’t get one second of peace with the two of them around. On one hand it was a good thing they could keep me stable, but annoying on the other, because I just couldn’t have a bad day with them around.
“Everyone ready?” Bex asked.
Choruses of “fuck yeah” resounded from all of us, including Natalie. We did our Jaded Regret fist-bump handshake combo and then ran for the stage, Natalie standing in the wings as always. I sat down, pulling my drumsticks out of my pocket. Several new sets sat on the floor by my pedals. It was my thing to throw my sticks into the crowd a few times during a concert. Every set had been signed by all four of us, and I’d seen them on Ebay for thousands of dollars. It was crazy, but it was the one way I could interact with my fans without talking to them.
Tanner started his riff, Johnny and Bex coming in as Bex began to sing, effectively silencing the crowd. In between her notes, I could hear shouts from exuberant fans. My head cleared, and it was just me on this stage with my fabulous band.
It was my turn to come in, and come in I did. I took it over, allowing the screams and shouts of my name to fuel me to drum harder, faster, longer. When my solo was over, and Bex began to sing again, the screams continued to reverberate in my head.