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Lucas: Okay, I just spewed in my mouth a little…

Me: Fuck off, Nico. You know I didn’t mean that like it came out.

Lucas: You coming out, Eddie?

Me: Fuck you, Lucas, and for the record, if I was gay, I’ll be far more discerning than to pick either of you two pricks.

Nico: Two pricks? Wow, you are up for the man meat.

Lucas: Fuck, I miss you two dick heads.

Me: No man meat for me, sorry to disappoint, buddy. Not that the record label gives a shit that it’s all bullshit.

Nico: You need me to handle it?

Me: Fuck no, I got this. Just need to shoot the shit and grab a beer, so let me know when you can both make it. Lucas, we can meet close to the hospital if that’s easier.

I knew Nico well enough to know when he said he’d handle it, he meant the record label would be down a few execs by the time he’d finished, and I wasn’t about that. Yeah, I hated it that they had me by the balls and violence didn’t bother me. Fuck, I’d happily helped Jake Marshall deal with Kendrick permanently, but I couldn’t go around beating up, or killing, people in my line of work, nor would I.

Lucas: There’s a hole in the wall place called Mickey’s that works. How about tomorrow night around 6pm? It’s around the corner from the Ink Tank where you normally get your ink done, Eddie.

Nico: You got it.

Me: I’ll be there.

I knew exactly where Lucas meant, it served the best ribs outside of Texas. His reminding me of Ink Tank made me itch to get another tattoo. I had full sleeves on both arms, and my left pectoral and right shoulder were covered too. Maybe I’d head over early and get something done. Shooting off a text to Kendal, my tattooist, I wait to see if she can fit me in. She can but later in the evening, which works perfectly if Lucas can only stay an hour. Feeling lighter, I head to the studio I’d built next door to the property I own in the countryside, just ten miles from my friend Cherry in Mariemont, and where I spend most of my time when I’m not on tour or performing.

The crunch of the gravel under the tires of my truck soothes me, and I can feel my shoulders relaxing before I even step out of the truck, but when I do, I inhale the fresh air of home. I’d grown up in the city with Lucas and Nico, but as soon as I landed in Tennessee nearly ten years ago, I’d felt at home. Yet moving away had also left me feeling lonely so I’d made the switch to Ohio where I’d spent summers with Nico and his family, who had a summer place here. Turns out the Cosa Nostra likes to get away from the city too. I’d found this plot of land with just a broken-down barn as the only structure, and I’d known this was where I needed to be. That barn is now my recording studio and where my biggest hit,Midnight Dune, was written and recorded. Lucas followed me here a year later and met Sam.

Driving between the city and here doesn’t bother me and I always meet Reggie and the execs in the city because I don’t want that part of my life to intrude here. This is my haven, my peace, which is why the thought of it being invaded isn’t something I can swallow easily. So I’ll use my place in the city and give this up for a few months until this fucking fiasco is sorted out and the label are happy again.

Taking off my dusty cowboy hat, I run my fingers through my unruly hair and breathe in the scent of grass, and hay. It’s late summer and I know the nights will herald the sounds of tractors out in the fields until late, harvesting the grains and other crops.

Grabbing some cold cuts and slabbing them between two pieces of thick white bread, I head for the studio. It’s time to get these lyrics set to some kind of melody and, ever since the gym, I’d had an idea and I also have an idea for my new ink.

2.Laney

My stomach twists slightlyas I consider what I’m about to do before the vision of what I’d walked in on last Friday night flashes through my brain. My boyfriend, Randy, on his hands and knees being plowed from behind by my friend Sloane, who was wearing a huge purple strap-on dick.

As if his cheating on me after telling me he loved me wasn’t bad enough, he’d done it with Sloane. My so-called friend, who never missed an opportunity to tell me what a douchebag Randy was. I guess the saying is true, Randy by name, randy by nature. Maybe he should have been called ‘lying disgusting scumbag’ because that’s what he is.

I’d frozen on the threshold as the moans and hideously loud groans of ecstasy came from him as she told him what a naughty boy he was. I have no idea how I got out of there without losing my lunch, but somehow I had, and I was glad I did. It gave me some time and clarity to plan my revenge instead of acting on the instinct to rail and scream at them both. I’d never considered myself a vengeful person, but a betrayal like this has made me see a side of myself previously hidden. Perhaps I should be more concerned with the fact I’m more angry than heartbroken, but Ithink, deep down, I’d known he wasn’t the one for me. It had just taken the visual to push that thought into the light.

Neither Sloane nor Randy knew I’d caught them and, after spending hours walking through the park, and avoiding the slightly worried looks of strangers as I muttered to myself and cried, I’d made a plan. If that fucker thought he was getting away with it, he had another thing coming; they both did. I’m sick of letting things slide and being the bigger person all the time, it has gotten me exactly nowhere.

Checking my hair in the mirror, I fluff the edges out, I want Randy to see exactly what he is losing when I walk away from him today. But first, he has to take his damn medicine.

Brushing my skirt down with sweaty palms, I walk out of the bathroom of the peds ward where I volunteer twice a week. I got into it by accident after a friend’s sister had a sick child in the hospital. She commented on what a godsend it was to have people do the little things, like sit with a child while she went to the bathroom, and how the nurses were too rushed off their feet to help. It was something so simple, but I’d seen how much it meant, and I’d been helping out ever since. Most times it just involved reading a story or singing a gentle lullaby to soothe the fear inside them, others, it was holding the hand of a terrified parent who just needed an anchor in the worst of times. It broke my heart in two, making me cry myself to sleep at the unfairness of life when a child didn’t make it, but I felt I made a tiny difference and I need that.

I’d just spent a couple of hours sitting with Joey, a little boy with kidney disease, while his father, Lucas, had a much-needed break. I’d sung Joey his favorite song from “The Lion King” and then settled into a Winnie the Pooh song he loved when his mom caught my eye from the doorway. I smiled at the sleeping child as I made my way toward her, ending the last note on a whisper. I love to sing—in the shower, and I know my voice is good, butmy fear and paralyzing terror at the thought of singing in public holds me captive from making any kind of career out of it. Yet, it seems to flee when I’m with these brave kids.

Joey’s mom, Sam, grins as she takes my arm and we walk back into the hallway so we can talk without disturbing her sleeping son. Sam is the sweetest, kindest lady, but she’s also fierce in a way I’m not and, despite her being a few years older, we’d become really close friends as we sat by her son’s bed.

My heart broke in two for Sam and Lucas as they watched, helpless to do anything to help Joey, apart from love him. Kidney disease is brutal in anyone but a little kid who’d done nothing to anyone made it seem so much worse.

“Heading out, babe?”

I nod and her lips pull into a smirk when she runs her gaze over me and sees how I’m dressed to kill. I’d told her about Randy and my plan, and she had been gleeful in helping me plan it. Lucas, however, is a different story. He knows Randy and I are on the outs but not why or what I had planned next. Lucas was the epitome of a protective big brother, having adopted me as the little sister he’d never had over the last year and a half, and if he knew what Randy and Sloane had done, Randy would be eating through a straw for a year. I didn’t want that or need it. Lucas is needed here, and I can tell him afterward so I don’t put Sam in a tough spot.