Through all of our misery came beauty, and without our misery we might not have gotten the beauty. It was our own kind of beautiful misery and I wouldn’t change a thing.
THE END.
ALMOST…..
Coming Winter 2013 by Chandin Whitten Rock Raising Hell #1
Prologue
I couldn’t help but watch as Tristan strutted across the stage. The looks he would give all those girls was making their panties drop. No, I mean literally lose their panties. The girls were taking them off and tossing them on the stage. I felt like I was watching Magic Mike, Rockstar Edition…only gone wrong. Very, very wrong. Tristan was loving it. I was disgusted. It was like a really bad car wreck. You know the kind you really shouldn’t look at, afraid of what you might see. Yet, you can’t take your eyes off of it.
Tristan let his eyes search the crowd, no doubt looking for his next conquest. Then, he landed on me and his eyes were glued. Those fucking eyes- once upon a time I fell in love with those honey colored irises. Tristan raised one side of his mouth, as if he was daring me to move.
Dammitmotherfuckingalltohell.
Rolling my eyes, I huffed and turned to walk away. Mistake. Tristan called me out. Of course he would. He was an asshole.
“Ah there she is. Where you goin’, Butterfly?”
Oh hell no he didn’t?! He did not just call me Butterfly. It felt like I was just stabbed a thousand times in my chest. Pausing mid step, I turned to glare at him while others looked around for Tristan’s ‘Butterfly’. I was pissed. I was hurt. How dare he use that name? He knew what it meant…used to mean.
“Why you leaving so early? I was hoping you would join me for this next song. After all you are the inspiration behind it.”
People were finally figuring out who had Tristan’s attention. They had followed his gaze and found me on the receiving end. Albeit, not very happy. Fine. He wants to play games? Well, I hope he packed his pads and a helmet, because game on baby. And, I don’t play fair. I had on my ball bustin’ boots and I was ready to do some damage.
Holding my middle finger up, I started towards the stage. The group of people dividing like I was Moses parting the Red Sea. Don’t quote me on that, I haven’t brushed up on my Bible 101 lately. The guys were gawking at me and the girls were shooting daggers at me. They wanted to be. They wanted to be the one going on stage to sing with Tristan Cole. I would gladly trade places with them.
Tristan smirked and his voice grew deeper. He practically growled, “Don’t tease me baby, unless you’re going to please me. You had better put that finger away or I might do something crazy like hold you accountable. You know I’ve always been quite the wild child.” His little comment had the guys laughing and I swear I could feel all the different ways the girls were planning on killing me. Little did they know, Rockstar up there wasn’t trying to flirt with me. No, he was trying to piss me off. And, I will give him credit, it was working. Not that I would let him know that.
I dropped my hand and straightened as I reached the side of the stage. My eyes still locked with his. He was standing front and center, waiting. Waiting to make my life living hell, more than it already was.
“Boys, a little help for the lady?” Tristan asked, nodding at me.
Before I could protest I was being lifted by some guy behind me and sat on the stage. What the hell? Was I four? I wanted to turn around and kick and scream at that Neanderthal. Ok, so maybe I was a little closer to acting like a four year old than I wanted to admit.
The bassist, Ryker, just took a step back and bowed his head. Chicken ass. Looking across the stage I saw Kamp, one of the guitarist trying –and failing- to hide his laughter as he kept up a steady rhythm on his guitar. Shifting my eyes to the back of the stage where Reid was stationed behind his drums, he was looking straight ahead, shaking his head. Jase was my last resort, but of course that guitar playing twat box was looking at his cousin and smiling. I was on my own with this one.
Taking a few steps in Tristan’s direction, I put my hands on my hips and squared up to him, smiling a little too sweetly. When he was within reach I placed a finger on his chest, he tensed, and tapped my finger as I spoke, “Well, playboy, you got me up here…now what are you going to do with me? Last time you got me this close you ran like a little girl. Think you can handle me this time?”
Told you I don’t play fair. I fight dirty.
The room was silent except for the strumming coming from Jase and Kamp’s guitars. Tristan’s eyes grew dark, making the green flecks in them stand out. His mouth twitched. “Why, Ms. Caine aren’t you just a sweet little lollipop all wrapped up in bitch?”
Narrowing my eyes I said, “And, you Mr. Cole, are a dick.”
His hazel eyes sparkled. “Yep.” Tristan took his eyes off me and shifted them back to the crowd while taking a few steps away from me. He drew his lip ring into his mouth. He knew exactly what that did to me. “Y’all ready for our new number one hit, Rockstar Call Girl?” The crowd went crazy, clapping and hollering. Tristan glanced at me, a smile playing at his lips. Pointing at me he said, “You can thank this hot little lady for that. If it wasn’t for her this song wouldn’t exist.”
The bands new song didn’t exactly put me in the best light. To be honest it made me sound like some sort of whore, which I wasn’t. There was a tap on my shoulder before a microphone was being shoved in my face. Looking over my shoulder I saw Ryker retreating back to his spot on stage. He actually had a little sympathy on his face. At least somebody cared…maybe. A little?
I heard Reid’s sticks hit the drums and both guitars came to life. Tristan looked at me, that stupid ass, shit eatin’ grin on his face as he started to sing.
She’s always looking for a little danger,
Just a little fun.
The dark bars, the street cars.
And everything in between.
The bad boys who want one thing,
She’s exactly what they need.
She’s a rockstar call girl,
An angel with demon wings.
Remember, bitch who you belong to,
Your body is my private domain.
Fuck you like the whore you are,
Drink away your memories at night.
Because you’re a rocsktar call girl,
And that’s all you’ll ever be.
Tristan took a breath then looked at me, motioning me to sing the next verse. The verse he knew that would hurt me the most. I held the microphone close to my mouth, almost letting in rest on my lips.
I should have took one look,
And knew the real you.
You told me things to make me believe,
That I was more than just money.
There was fire in my veins,
You turned it into ice and never thought twice.
I’ll never make the same mistake,
And trust someone like you.
Because…
Tristan started signing with me. Getting closer and closer to me. He held his hand out to me. He turned from the crowd to my face, meeting me eye for eye.
She’s a rockstar call girl,
An angel with demon wings.
Remember, bitch who you belong to,
Your body is my private domain.
Fuck you like the whore you are,
Drink away your memories at night.
Because you’re a rockstar call girl,
And that’s all you’ll ever be.
I stopped singing. I let the microphone drop to my feet. Tristan took another step closer, towering over me. His body just inches from me. His breath in my face. He finished the song.
That’s all you’re ever going to be,