Life of debauchery duet.., p.17
Life of Debauchery Duet MASTER, page 17
I did, hardly able to open them. They were already swelling shut.
Glaring deep into my gaze, he spoke the last truth we both knew. “You’re a piece of shit, a fuckin’ pussy! You always thought I was the one who was going to break her heart. Except, it wasn’t me, motherfucker.”
Cocking his head to the side, he roared, “It was you.”
It. Was. Me.
And that was the last time…
I was sober.
Chapter 27
“Everything I was afraid of growing up, I’ve become.”
-Marilyn Manson
<>Cash<>
Then: Twenty-five-years-old
Opening the pill bottle, I shook out a handful and chugged it down with the rest of the whiskey flask in my hand.
“To celebrate this monumental moment!” the Panthers manager announced as I stood on the side of the stage.
I didn’t wanna fuckin’ be here. There was no way I could get outta the contract without being sued by everyone and their mother.
Our record label wanted me to release a single. I was alone. I hated being alone. This wasn’t how I wanted to see either of them for the first time after all these years.
We’d all moved on.
At least they did.
I lived in the purgatory of my own Hell. Where drugs and booze were the answer to everything. It kept me numb. It kept me sane. It kept me from remembering.
“We have a special guest of honor for you this evening! This performer is a three-time platinum recording artist, internationally known songwriter, and Grammy-winning solo artist. His talent on the guitar knows no bounds.”
The motherfucker got it wrong.
Who the fuck was giving him these stats?
I was with Life of Debauchery. I didn’t even wanna release this fuckin’ single. Our label had me by the balls, and they knew it too.
“He’s been called the Kurt Cobain of this generation. I want everyone to get on their feet and get ready for the show of a lifetime. Without further ado… Ladies and gentlemen, Cash McGraw!”
Fuck me.
Chugging down the last of the flask, I threw it on the ground. Through my drunken high haze, I hit the stage. Praying I’d pass the fuck out and wouldn’t have to do this. It had happened before, I was a fuckin’ rock star. It came with the territory.
The blinding lights didn’t help my disposition, trying to remain upright. The quarterback had won the Super Bowl, and there I was, performing at his team’s celebration party.
In North Carolina.
I fuckin’ hated North Carolina.
Once the lights cleared and I could see in front of me, I saw her first.
Harley Jameson.
I meant, Harley Pierce.
Her frame immediately stiffened in Jackson’s hold, while everyone else in the audience lost their shit.
“Cash Motherfuckin’ McGraw,” someone screamed out from the crowd.
Jackson and Harley were sitting at the table closest to the stage.
To me.
Rushing all the memories I hid from with my bottle of Jack. It had the power to make it all go away. One memory after the other, gone in a liter of whiskey. I could outdrink anyone. It was easy. My demons weren’t just Harley and my family anymore.
She came in the form of a little girl who looked just like me.
I watched her and her mother on the news earlier that day.
They were smiling.
Laughing.
Living the life I’d always wanted for them.
With a man I no longer despised. He was everything I knew he would be, and for that, I would forever be grateful and indebted to him. Taking care of my girls.
“Jackson, can you tell us about your first kiss?”
He softly smiled at the reporter in his conference interview after he won the Vince Lombardi trophy for his team. Scoring a record-breaking eight touchdowns in a single game.
“She was my first kiss. We were each other’s actually. Harley is the only woman I’ve ever kissed.”
They tore into him, badgering him with relentless questions in the same way they did to me. Never minding their own fuckin’ business. Thinking they had a right to know whatever they wanted.
Jackson was by far more well-mannered than I was. I usually just told them to eat shit. He wasn’t like me, though, he was better. Always had been. I couldn’t have chosen a better father for my child. He adored her. It was obvious by the way he was staring at them.
They were his whole world.
It wasn’t him nor her I was held captive by. My eyes were held hostage for the little girl in pigtails, reminding me so much of her mother when she was her age.
“And your baby sister, Journey? How is she? She was last seen on her Instagram, cheerleading for her high school.”
“Yes. She’s a freshman this year. Still very much a free spirit. She plans on studying abroad for college at Barcelona University, I believe.”
It was all over for me once I’d heard Bailey speak, “My Auntie Neyney is my best fwend like momma. She teaches me howta dance, like dis.” She stood up and started shaking her butt in the same way Journey used to.
I’d blinked, and tears were falling outta my eyes. Bailey wasn’t my daughter.
She was his.
Theirs.
Despite the fact I didn’t deserve it, I’d wanted to beg for their forgiveness. I’d wanted to meet Bailey. Talk to her. Hold her. Tell her how much I loved her.
More tears slid down the sides of my face.
What did you do, Cash? What the fuck did you do?
There were so many times I’d thought about calling, sending money, just showing up on their door. Fully aware I was being selfish, and I didn’t deserve them. But it didn’t take away the desire to want to know my baby girl.
She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I’d done right by her by letting them go. It was the only thing I’d ever done right in my life, and I’d been paying for it ever since. No one knew what it was like to live in my shoes. Having the whole world at my fingertips, everything I’d thought I wanted, needed, couldn’t live without.
Somewhere along the line, I’d lost myself. Becoming everything I was afraid of.
The success, the money, the fame, it didn’t mean shit to me. It never did. From the moment we got signed, I thought all my dreams, what I’d worked so hard for, giving up everything…
Including my happiness as if it meant nothing to me. It would all finally make sense. Replacing the void I’d been filling with drugs and booze. It couldn’t have been further from the truth.
The hole in my heart got bigger, the loneliness larger, the addiction stronger, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I may have been worth millions, but in my eyes, in my mind, in every crevice of my body, I was nothing. An empty shell, a hollow person, a man dead from the inside out.
The last time I’d seen Harley was when I broke her heart, and I hadn’t seen Jackson since he kicked my ass. Now there I was, back in our neck of the woods, striding my way down the stage with a guitar in my hands. Looking every bit the part of a famous rock star.
From my long blond hair to my grungy, grimy appearance, and bloodshot hazel eyes. High as fuck. Drunk as shit. A sorry excuse of a fuckin’ man.
It was the only way I could do this.
See her.
Them.
Harley’s chest was rising and falling with every step bringing me closer to her and the quarterback.
Ten steps.
Six.
Two.
One.
“Good evenin’, everyone,” I greeted over the speakers, hiding behind my music, my guitar, the reality of the world I’d created. “Congratulations on the big win, Panthers! I’m here to perform my latest song, titled, “My Very Best Friend.”
The one song I never wanted to sing was the one the record label pushed for the most.
Harley watched me with wide eyes. Her lips parted, hearing her song. The same one I created, sang, performed just for her.
Where we’d get lost in our own little world.
She was frozen in the seat, appearing to be caught in a spell by my voice. I swear I could feel her heart hammering through her chest. Her skin clamming up from the anticipation building deep within her.
I knew ’cuz I was experiencing the exact same thing.
I could feel Jackson’s temper looming as the familiar bluesy beat mixed in with a heavy metal tone started echoing off the walls. Combined with a unique sound no one ever heard before. The crowd started going wild as I strummed my guitar.
Harley hated me, but not nearly as much as I hated myself.
“There was a girl…”
Da na na na na na.
“And her name was...”
Da na na na na na.
She winced, not hearing her name where it usually was. The sudden hurt expression on her face ate me up inside, tearing me apart second by second as the song continued on. Feeling so fuckin’ helpless all at the hands of the piece of shit on stage.
Me.
I felt her…
Felt them.
My eyes locked with Jackson first and then her, singing, “She was the coolest girl.”
Da na na na na na.
Like the award-winning artist I was, I didn’t show an ounce of the pain I was experiencing by hurting her with this song.
“In all of the town.”
Da na na na na na.
The exact lyrics of Harley’s song played on. “With her bright blue eyes.”
Da na na na na na.
“And snarky fuckin’ mouth.”
Da na na na na na.
“She was my girl.”
Da na na na na na.
“No matter what.”
Da na na na na na.
“She’d always be…” I hummed.
Da na na na na na.
“My very best friend.”
Da na na na na na.
Her gaze fused with mine as if being pulled by a string.
Singing the last lyrics slow and edgy, I finished us off. “Now, forever, then.”
Da na na na na na.
With a heavy heart and a guilty conscience, I watched her leave out the banquet doors. Battling with the longing to go after her. Tell her how much I loved her. How much I’d always love her.
You don’t deserve her.
You never did.
“Thank you, everyone,” I turned and left.
As soon as I saw Jackson backstage, coming for me, I lifted a finger up in the air and signaled my bodyguards to stay where they were.
“Listen, man,” I declared, not wanting to start where we ended after our last encounter. “It was a contract thing. I couldn’t back out after I realized your team was in the Super Bowl—”
“So you knew we’d be here? You been following my career?”
“It’s kinda hard not to. We’re both in the limelight. Your face and name are known everywhere.”
“Cash! Cash! Over here!” fans shouted from behind us as my bodyguards worked crowd control. Cameras flashing from all directions, trying to get the perfect shot of us to spill their bullshit and twist whatever narrative they wanted outta this moment.
Tabloids would be losing their shit tomorrow. I could see the headlines now, “Jackson Pierce and Cash McGraw caught in a heated argument.”
I didn’t give a flying fuck. I was known for causing trouble. This wouldn’t be the first or last time I’d made the press paint me in a negative light. It was what I did best.
“You know Harley’s my wife?”
With my eyes still on him, I slowly nodded.
“And we have a baby girl.”
He said it with such conviction, as if he assumed I’d think otherwise.
“I ain’t here to have a pissin’ contest over Harley.”
“Cash, will you sign my tits?” one of the chicks slurred from the crowd, pushing against the guards to let her by.
I didn’t pay her any mind.
“Yeah, like you give two fucks about her.”
“Don’t go there, man.” I firmly shook my head. “You think I wanna be here for this bullshit? Dealin’ wit’ you in my fuckin’ face? You think this is the way I’d wanna see either of you, after all these years?”
“I don’t give a fuck what you think, or about your contract. You should have gotten fuckin’ sued rather than show your face on my fuckin’ turf. Besides, you can afford it. You’re Cash McGraw, right? Fuckin’ pussy.”
I stepped right into his face.
He didn’t hesitate in spewing, “Of all the songs you could sing, you picked that one? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“It was in the contract. I had no say. But I don’t got time for your bullshit. I gotta plane to catch. Now get the fuck outta my way.”
“Well, you’re gonna make time. I’m not done with you yet.”
“Fuckin’ A!” I roared, hanging on by a thread. “I never lied to anyone ’bout what I wanted in life. Especially Harley. You think it was easy for me? For everyone, includin’ my parents, my father, turnin’ their backs on me ’cuz I didn’t go down the path they wanted.”
“Harley always believed in you, and don’t you ever fuckin’ forget that.”
“What do ya want me to say, quarterback? You won the girl. Is that what you need to hear?”
“Cash! Cash! Cash!” the room chanted.
It didn’t surprise me when he asked, “Were you in love with her? Are you still?”
My jaw clenched, tugging my hair back. “I see you haven’t changed, still insecure as always.”
“Answer my fuckin’ question, McGraw.”
“And what if I don’t? Huh? What are you gonna do?”
“I’ll beat it the fuck out of you.”
“Jackson, I wasn’t scared of you then, and I ain’t scared of you now. I won’t ask you again, get the fuck outta my way. I need to go.”
“She always deserved better than you,” he scoffed out, seething. “I never understood why she loved you so fuckin’ much. I still don’t. ’Cuz the man I see standing in front of me is nothing but a little bitch with his dick tucked in between his legs. You may have had her fooled back then, but now she knows what you’re really made of. Run, pussy boy, it’s what you do best.”
With that, he turned and left. However, he stopped dead in his tracks when I finally revealed, “Harley was … is my best friend. I love her like a sister. I never meant to hurt her, and I have to live wit’ that every day. You don’t know a damn thing ’bout me. What I go through knowin’ I turned my back on her to make my dreams come true. Except, the only life I’m livin’ is the hell I created for myself, so fuck you.”
Through the swarm of people, I saw Harley walking back into the venue. There was no point in bringing her into this.
At the end of the day, in my life…
I was no good for no one.
And it needed to stay that way.
Chapter 28
“It’s better to burn out than fade away.”
-Kurt Cobain
<>Cash<>
Now: Thirty-years-old
I answered Journey’s phone. I couldn’t help myself. I needed to hear Bailey’s voice, even if it was only for a second.
“Hiiiiiii!” she exclaimed on the other end of the line. “Auntie Neyney, where are you? Are you gonna be at my birthday in three days? Momma bought me my first two-piece pink bikini!” She giggled, and it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. “Don’t tell Daddy, he don’t know.”
Daddy.
For just a moment, I pretended like she was calling me that. It didn’t take the pain away like I thought it would.
It hurt, it hurt really fuckin’ bad.
“I miss you so much. When are you comin’ home? Can I visit you in Spain? Daddy says it’s too far for me to go, but I don’t care. I wanna see you. You’re my best friend in the whole wide world. Pinky promise for life, remember?”
I shut my eyes, the agony taking me under.
“Auntie Neyney, are you there?”
Before I knew what I was doing, I hummed, “Mmm hmm,” in a high-pitched voice.
Bailey didn’t question it, squealing, “Oh. My. God! Auntie Neyney! Cash McGraw is on TV!”
I stopped breathing.
“They’re playing his new song! I love this song! ‘When the world is holdin’ ya down and ya need someone by your side! Then you put up a fight! Yeah! You put up a fight!’” she sang the lyrics to me, and I swear I almost died right then and there.
“I love Beck Rice, he’s so cute. You know he’s my favorite. But don’t worry, I still listen to all the records you let me keep. I just love Johnny Cash so much! You know he died three months after his June did? I’m readin’ his biography. ‘It ain’t me, no way, no how,’” my baby girl sang Johnny Cash to me. “I love all the music you always showed me, Auntie Neyney.”
Journey taught Bailey my love for music.
I jerked back, overwhelmed with what she unknowingly disclosed to the man her mother hated. Despite what I did, what I put her through, how much I hurt her.
Harley still allowed Journey to give our daughter a huge part of me, and that…
I wasn’t expecting.
How much did Journey know? Did Harley tell her? Did Jackson?
“Bailey!” I heard Harley holler from far away. “Come on, sweet girl, it’s time to go watch daddy’s practice!”
“Yessssss! I love football! Daddy is the best quarterback in all the world. The NFL said so.”
Tears instantly pooled in my eyes. My body felt like it suddenly weighed a thousand pounds, sinking into the floor beneath me.
This was the closest I had ever been to Bailey. Usually I just saw her in my dreams, in my nightmares, through the haze of booze and drugs. I didn’t want her to leave me. I didn’t want to end this call. All I wanted was to take her in my arms and never let her go.
