"Thank you to Firestarter for joining me here on The Local Buzz. Do you have any parting words for your fans, guys?"
Before anyone could say a word, I leaned toward the mic. "Yes, I do, actually. This goes out to the 'mystery man' who just can't seem to leave me alone. Fuck. Off!"
The deejay immediately cued up our latest song--"The One"--and I bolted out of the small room. I desperately needed a smoke. Not even half a minute after I'd stepped out back to the alley behind the radio station, the door opened and closed again. I didn't have to look to know who it was, so I just continued to smoke and stare at the radio towers.
"What the fuck was that about?"
Knowing Michael for so long had taught me two very important things when it came to arguing with the man. First, he'll keep on until his point has been made; and second, it's impossible to interrupt him, which negates the first point entirely. I just shrugged and let him continue on his tirade, handing him a cigarette before he could think to ask for one.
"We just released a new fucking album, Jase. The last God damned thing you need to be doing is pissing off some guy just because he's sent you a few trinkets."
I handed him the lighter without saying a word. He wasn't done.
"What's so fucking bad about catering to an old fart's fantasies? Just because he obviously has a... thing for you doesn't mean you have to piss in his general direction, hoping the wind hits just right. God damn, Jase." Michael leaned close. "I've seen the shit he sends you; books of your favorite authors, jewelry, fucking sex toys? Damn, dude. Just play along for a change, will ya?"
Okay. Now he was done. I dropped my cigarette and ground it out on the broken asphalt with the toe of my boot.
"Why should I?" I didn't glare at him, didn't shout; just asked him that one question matter-of-factly. "How would you feel if some stranger sent you gifts? The books aren't so bad. It's the sex toy thing. It's no secret that I fuck guys, but bolstering my collection of rubber cocks is hardly the way to make me happy, if that's his intent."
Michael finished his cigarette and flicked it into a muddy puddle from the rain last night. "So he wants to get in your pants, big fucking deal. Not like he's actually going to, right?"
"That's not the point," I grumbled.
"Then what is?"
"The point is that I have some stranger stalking my ass, quite literally!"
"But he hasn't actually touched you," Michael pointed out. "Hell, you don't even know what he looks like."
"That doesn't matter. It's fucking freaky, plain and simple." Not to mention the fact that I'd still not told Julian about any of it. I lit up another cigarette just as the deejay--Dusty--came out.
"You okay, man?"
I nodded and shook the pack, sliding a cigarette out for him. He took it and Michael lit it. Dusty took a slow drag and eyed me silently for a moment. "Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really, man. Thanks, though."
"No problem." Dusty finished his cigarette in silence, patted my back, then headed back in, Michael behind him.
Instead of going back inside with them, I gracefully and quietly made my exit. I dug my keys out of my pocket and had just slid the key into the lock when I happened to glance in the car at the passenger's seat.
No way. No motherfucking way.
With a less than steady hand, I got the door unlocked and open, but that was about as far as I could make myself go. I simply stared at the pendant lying on a black velvet cloth in the middle of the passenger's seat, more wondering how the fuck it got there when the doors had been locked than the significance of the piece itself. When the front door of the radio station opened and Mike and the guys came out, I steeled my nerves and got into my car, quickly pulling my leather jacket from the back to cover up the necklace. I don't know what made me do it, but something told me this one was significant. It was too unusual not to be. I rolled down my window when Jesse, our drummer, approached the car.
"You going out tonight?"
Resisting the urge to look at the other seat, I blew out a breath. Hell, if anything, I figured my "mystery man" wasn't the club going type. "Sure. I need to call Julian first. Where do you want to go?"
"Masquerade?"
"Sounds good. Anyone else going?"
Jesse looked back at the others as they leaned against Michael's truck. "Hey! You guys wanna head to Masquerade?"
"I'm game," Michael said, shrugging. Marcus and Vic just nodded.
"Okay. I'll meet you there then." I started the car and Jesse backed away as I pulled out of the parking lot. A night out; I could handle a night out.
)
