The blue guitar pick, p.7
The Blue Guitar Pick, page 7
“I’m not looking for an argument, but I hate how he treats you. Not in the physical sense, but emotionally. All the waiting. The unknown. And his complete lack of commitment.”
Emily listened to Matthew’s breathing down the phone. He wanted to look out for her. They’d grown up together, and like a big brother, he only wanted to protect her. His words sat like a weight on her chest. He might not ever say it, but she was sure Ryan cared deeply for her.
“How are things between you and Carl?” Matthew broke into her thoughts.
Emily dropped her head, pleased her cousin couldn’t see her. “We broke up.”
“Oh, sorry. When did that happen?”
“Ages ago. He kept asking questions about what I did when I wasn’t with him, and now that I’ve finished college, I couldn’t use studying as an excuse. Besides, it would never have worked out.” In truth, Emily couldn’t stand the betrayal any longer. It made her uncomfortable, lying every time Ryan rolled back into town.
She didn’t bother to tell Matthew she had dated a few other guys since Carl; there didn’t seem much point. There were never going to be any long-term prospects as long as Ryan remained in her sights, and dating casually didn’t make her feel like she was cheating on Ryan. Deep down, although the mental image made her ill, she suspected Ryan would be breaking hearts all over the world exactly as he’d once broken hers. She saw no harm in having a little bit of her own fun in the meantime.
EXCERPT FROM RYAN’S DIARY
17/02/89
Camp Nou Stadium -Barcelona, Spain
Ninety thousand people at tonight’s gig. One of our biggest to date. We sounded amazing, even though Chris was off his head. I saved his arse a few times, picking up riffs he screwed up.
I called Emily afterwards, but couldn’t hear her properly. The international delay on the line was terrible, and the random chick undoing my jeans with her teeth proved distracting. We didn’t talk for long.
I felt guilty talking to Em, knowing full well the girl removing my pants was about to fuck my brains out. I shouldn’t feel guilty, though. It’s not like Emily is my girlfriend. We’ve never expressed our feelings about seeing other people when we’re not together. I’m sure she is. She probably has a queue of Uni students a mile long, wanting to date her.
Her studies are going well. She finished college top of her class and starts at NYU soon. I still have the photo of the city skyline she gave me on our last visit. It’s stuck on the inside of my Fender case. I get to see it every time we rehearse. I love that photo. It reminds me of her – the sky, the same colour as her eyes.
I wish I could tell her everything going on in my life at the moment, but I don’t want to disappoint her. I believe she would put her life on hold to be with me if I asked. I want her. Every time I see her, I want her. But so much time has passed without either of us making a move. To do so now would be weird.
She’s my mate. But the way she lets me kiss her and the way she kisses me back, it takes every bit of strength I have not to have sex with her.
I don’t deserve someone like her, and she doesn’t need someone like me screwing up her life. I hate it when she witnesses all the crap backstage. The booze, the drugs, the sex. She keeps her mouth shut, but I can see her wondering if I’m clean or sleeping with one groupie after another.
Emily deserves a decent man. One who will be faithful to her, no matter what.
I should stop seeing her. I’ve said it before, but this time I mean it. It’ll be better for both our sakes if I drop out of her life.
FIVE
8 July 1989
Emily took her position near the front of the VIP area in the crowd, thanks to the red and blue guitar picks from four years earlier. Now, in July 1989, Fire and Ice were once again back in New York, their most lucrative city. With an expansive budget due to the bands' ever-increasing popularity, everything was bigger, louder, and more impressive than previous shows.
Massive curtains shrouded the stage, dropping when Fire and Ice exploded on in a thundering pulse of sound. Laser lights shot through the air and spotlights illuminated each member of the band. Boys elevated girls onto their shoulders for a better view; others passed out from dehydration and overstimulated senses.
The audience, as usual, formed a mass of dancing, screaming bodies as Emily watched Ryan entertain the fans, transfixed by his fingers flying over the guitar strings, sweat dripping from his body. When he flirted with the girls lining the barriers, she did her best to trample her anxiety. He’d give them nothing more than the briefest touch, but his innocent actions sparked deep-seated jealousy in Emily.
Ryan turned and gave her his special smile, a smile she knew was only for her. She shook off the tension in her muscles and relaxed back into watching all the guys having so much fun together, doing what they did best.
Adam played with the crowd, screaming into the microphone and leaning out so fans could almost reach him. Sometimes, he would stand on the drum riser where Paul sat behind his huge kit, his drumsticks smacking and thrashing away. Daniel and Chris teased girls with their eyes, throwing guitar picks to whoever took their fancy.
For the next ninety minutes, immersed in Ryan’s world, Emily soaked in the atmosphere, and as the reverb of the guitar faded out on their final song, all traces of unease vanished. Emily realized she was extremely privileged to have witnessed the band grow as performers over the years. They had perfected their talents, matured as musicians, and reveled in their successes.
When the house lights illuminated the arena, indicating the end of the show, Emily nudged her way through the multitude of Fire and Ice fans. Searching for the band’s dressing room, she eventually located it in a private section of the stadium.
While she waited, she leaned against the whitewashed wall, enjoying the coolness of the bricks through her shirt, after the soaring temperatures of the crowded stadium. A secret smile passed over her lips as she eavesdropped on the hushed conversation of four other girls.
“Adam specifically asked for me,” said a girl wearing steel-blue eye shadow.
“No, you’re wrong,” another retorted. “He asked for me!”
Emily wanted to correct them. Exhausted and barely able to speak from the strain on his voice; singing for hours at a time, night after night, Adam rarely invited girls back after a show. Ryan also mentioned he’d recently begun dating someone and they were becoming serious. Despite the countless offers of sex, so far, Adam had refrained, and she commended his fidelity. On the off-chance Adam did stay backstage, he tended to be in a corner, knocking back a few beers with the bodyguard. These girls would find out soon enough, but Emily remained confident they wouldn’t be disappointed. Someone from the band had requested them, and as she’d witnessed on many occasions, very few groupies worried about whose toy they became.
Stage door fourteen opened and the air around her came alive with a buzz of electricity from the awaiting group. A security guard stepped out, looming over the girls.
“Show me the passes,” he spat.
Like a well-rehearsed magic act, four passes automatically appeared. “Good. Now where’s yours?” He eyeballed Emily, who unfurled her palm to reveal the two pristine guitar picks that had been a long way since Ryan first slipped them into her hand.
“Oh, we have a frequent flyer tonight.” The guard lifted an eyebrow and gave her a crude grin.
Emily simply nodded back. She’d learned the hard way that it was better to ignore any snide remarks, ride it out, and reunite with Ryan as quickly as possible. Each concert and every venue's security process differed, and the personnel supplied for the arenas changed regularly, so no one knew her.
The bouncer stood aside, holding the door ajar for the girls to enter. Emily believed stepping into this world would change these other girls. This experience would remain with them for the rest of their lives, for better or worse, but they appeared much more sophisticated than she had back in ’85.
Emily jumped, startled when the weighty door slammed and locked behind her. The guard, whose name she could now see was Pete thanks to the embossing in his black shirt, pushed past and made his way further down the corridor.
“Follow me,” he said, taking the lead. “But don’t deviate from this hall and go poking ’bout in other rooms.”
They walked the long passage running the length of the arena. Many doors lined the corridor, but Pete strode past each one.
Her senses on full alert, Emily listened for Ryan’s London brogue, but the buzz from the overhead florescent lights polluted her ears. The harsh luminous lighting produced a glare off the shined linoleum floor, making her squint. The all-too-familiar smell of stale cigarettes, mixed with the sickly-sweet stench of spilled booze, hit her nostrils. Emily loved and loathed this smell in equal measure. She associated the scent with happy times spent with Ryan, but it also turned her stomach. Did these men not understand the damage they were doing to themselves?
The other girls tried to question her, now that they knew she had made this trip previously, but she evaded them, brushing them off with lame excuses. Girls like this appeared after every show and were always the same: the same look, the same clothes, the same makeup. Their speech was peppered with obscenities when they spoke callously about sex. These groupies didn’t care about commitment; they were only out for themselves. But the guys didn’t want a long-term relationship either, so she supposed it balanced out.
Pete stopped outside a plain doorway. “The boys are in there,” he instructed. “They’re tired after the show and need caring for.” He raised his caterpillar eyebrow again. “That’s why you’re here.” He paused. “When ya’ go in, don’t make a huge fuss and turn into crazy, crying blubbery chicks or I’ll remove ya’. Don’t approach any of the guys. Let them approach you. Each of ya’ has been hand-picked, so don’t be a disappointment.”
The door opened inwards to a seedy, weakly lit room. Threadbare, gray industrial carpet covered the stained and gritty floor. No loud music blasted from the tranquil room tonight. Other than a quiet cough or the muted sound of a muffled laugh, peace reigned. Once the door opened, all five members of Fire and Ice became visible, spread throughout the room.
Chris, dressed in a white terrycloth robe, stood leaning against a mirrored cabinet, the ever-ready bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other. He smiled when the group of girls came into view, but he didn’t acknowledge Emily. Well on his way to being inebriated, he staggered forward, taking the hand of the girl standing agape next to her. The one who, like Emily, years earlier, thought Adam had asked for her. She gave no protest, moving away with Chris, not even breaking her stride as she hiked her skirt up a few more inches.
Paul perused the girls with his cheeky grin but didn’t rise from the sofa on which he’d folded himself. He too wore a robe, which hung open enough for everyone to see he wore little beneath. Pete, the security guy, touched a girl on the shoulder.
“Go and meet Paul.” With his words barely spoken, she scurried over to the couch and landed in Paul’s embrace, her bottle-blonde hair cascading around them.
Daniel sat in an armchair in front of an enormous mirror. Again, an open robe hung off his lean frame. The bass player never spoke to Emily, despite her frequent presence over the years, but his rapport with the ladies was legendary. Dan didn’t turn to look at the remaining three young women standing with Pete, but Emily could see him checking out the blonde on her left through the reflection in his mirror. Not needing any encouragement, the moment Pete placed his meaty hand on the girl’s arm, she practically tripped over her own feet in her haste to get to Dan.
Adam and Ryan sat together on another settee, almost behind the door, their blue robes so familiar it made her smile. A must-have fashion accessory for the rock band on tour, she thought.
Emily smirked again at Ryan’s closed robe. He spent most of his time shirtless on stage, so it seemed pointless to hide his physique now. Adam’s remained undone to reveal shabby old shorts and a singlet beneath. With huge glasses of iced water in their hands, they gawked at the last girl and Emily in turn, eager to make this into a game.
Adam stood, smiling at both girls, and walked toward them. Emily's body trembled. She always did in Adam’s company, even after all this time. The deep-seated lust from her youth bubbling forth made her heart pound against her chest wall.
Over Adam’s shoulder, Emily sought Ryan for reassurance. A faint smile twitched the corner of his mouth; he clearly enjoyed making her wait. Emily took a step forward only to have Pete’s hand pull back on her arm as Adam kissed the dark-haired girl on the cheek.
“Hi, I’m Adam. Nice to meet you.” The confident singer draped his arm around the girl’s thin shoulders. “And you are?”
“Emma,” she replied.
Emily stifled a giggle. Reminiscent of her five years ago, about to have the time of her life with the man she would do anything for. So much for his commendable fidelity!
With her attention turned on Emma and Adam, Emily failed to notice Ryan move and stand next to her. He dismissed Pete and took her hand. In the next instant, she found herself folded into his arms, in his familiar embrace which swept her up in his world. He rained kisses on her lips and cheeks and nibbled at the end of her nose.
“God, I’ve missed you, baby,” he said. “Why do we always leave it far too long?”
“That’s your doing, not mine,” she started to respond, but the instant he pulled back and met her eyes, she melted. They hadn’t been together in months, and despite his phone calls every few days, she’d missed him too.
Hand in hand, they walked to a secluded corner of the room, divided by partitions into several different areas. Alone at last, except for Pete standing by the door drinking a beer, but he swiftly moved along once everyone settled.
Times had changed since Fire and Ice first started touring. The random unknown women remained a constant, with private lap dances and more cloistered sex acts replacing the old orgy-style after-parties. As a result, the bodyguard service wasn’t so hectic, despite an increase in the visible security presence every time Emily saw them.
Ryan and Emily sat in a sparse corner of the room, consisting of a couch with a side table and lamp. The table lamp, with its shabby shade over a grubby bulb, lit the space and cast mysterious dancing shadows on the walls. Ryan positioned himself right next to her but remained perched on the edge of the cushion. Emily studied him, the man with whom she felt so at ease now.
His hair was shorter than the last time they’d been together, and it hung limp, still damp with sweat. His robe drooped open a little, having loosened after he crossed the room to retrieve Emily from Pete. The gap revealed his bare chest and the same ripped jeans he’d worn on stage. Through these rips, she caught glimpses of the skin of his thigh and her stomach knotted at the thought of touching his flesh.
She peeked at Ryan’s face through her bangs, savoring him. Two chunky diamond studs replaced a row of four smaller earrings in his left ear lobe. They matched the studs in his right ear, which hadn’t changed over the years. A bulky silver bracelet coiled over his wrist, and a thick chain circled his neck. He pinned her with his eyes and did not break his stare.
Flustered by his intensity, Emily broke first, glancing at his lips. He remained silent and leaned in closer, his mouth brushing hers. His penetrating gaze held her until he gave her another kiss that lasted forever but ended all too soon. His breath warmed her face, and she exhaled her own wavering breath. Ryan’s kisses were always affectionate and left her wanting, but this kiss grew in passion. Slow and tender. Intimate, yet more forceful than she’d ever experienced.
Emily gasped when Ryan pushed a hand between her legs, whispering, “Is this okay?” in her ear. Heart racing, she could only nod, his touch lighting a fire inside her. She’d imagined this moment for so long but had resigned herself to just being friends. Now she became hypnotized, frozen by Ryan’s sudden passion.
His thumb traced the outline of her lips, moving slowly down to her chin and behind her neck. He pulled her close, pressing his mouth against hers. Desire rushed through her veins, intense and unwavering.
Ryan’s tongue pushed against her lips, parting them enough for him to slide inside. It moved deliberately, probing, to entice and tease. With a pounding heart, Emily let the moment consume her. His whole mouth explored hers, his hands burning all over her body. Things were moving at a lightning pace, and she needed to slow him down.
She placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed him away. When he pulled back the departure of his body left her cold. All she wanted was to have him blanket her again, but at her pace.
Ryan reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind Emily’s ear. “We don’t have to rush anything. We can take all the time you need,” he said, his eyes a mix of desire and tenderness.
Her cheeks flushed, Emily fixed her gaze on Ryan’s necklace. “I want this. I do…Just…”
He cupped her cheek. “Are you sure?”
Emily took a deep breath and summoned all her courage to meet his stare. “I’m sure, but please take it slow.”
A small smile graced Ryan’s lips as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”
The instant his lips met hers, all her uncertainty vanished. This was Ryan. He would never do anything to hurt her.
“You know this’ll change us,” he murmured. “Things will never be the same.”
Stroking his smooth chest, she replied breathlessly, “I know.”
Spurred on by the lust in Ryan’s eyes, Emily filtered out everything in her head except for the present moment. She focused only on Ryan and his exquisite touch. She focused on their hearts beating in sync to an unknown soundtrack and allowed herself to be swept away into her deepest fantasy. Everything she poured into this relationship had led to this moment, and all the pain, tears, and uncertainty were now worth every second. As they moved together, she clung to the thought that she was finally going to be Ryan’s girl.
