Chapter 9: Rock Stars Have Secrets

Trace

Kat saunters out the door, and I stare after her, feeling kinda...torqued. This has been an intense twenty-four hours for me. First, desperately wanting to see Kat, then desperately trying to chill in bed and not act like an oversexed maniac, then feeling desperately happy that we somehow naturally worked out that she's staying another night.

Not even in all the bullshit with Ashlynn over the last two years, did I ever feel truly desperate before. Not the way I feel with Kat.

I don't do desperate.

I do sex, booze, and rocknroll. It's too early for booze, and the rocknroll is not until tonight. That leaves me with one typical go-to, for stress relief. God, I need to get laid. Unfortunately, I don't think sex with Kat is on the table, not today. Probably not tonight. Probably not until she breaks up with that guy. The idea that I might have to wait until we clear the air about Ashlynn makes my skin crawl with anxiety. That could be a very long time. I'm not sure I can wait that long.

I wander back to the bedroom, and pump out a few push-ups to ease my tension, but the exertion makes my head pound again, so I quit. I pace, restless. I don't usually have this much time on my hands the day of a show. Normally I'd have morning press, but the management team don't want me on the local morning news looking like I got punched in the head last night. I wonder what excuse they'll give for my absence? Doesn't matter, as long as Leed isn't pissed at Adam the interview will go fine. As far as I could tell, they've been cool the last few days.

Waking up beside Kat this morning fulfilled every one of my early morning expectations of the last two and half years. It's like all those other mornings I woke up missing her were a bad dream, and only this is real. I don't know how things are going to go after today so I'll just gladly stay here in the moment. I'm anxious for the guys to get back from press and get our schedule nailed down for the day, so I know how much time I have with Kat.

I get a text from Adam.

Found something that belongs to you roaming the halls.

He must mean Kat. I'm sure he thinks we had hot sex, and he wants to give me a little shit, but he's reading me wrong if he thinks I'm going to give details. Kat's not some fangirl that I'm going to laugh about with the guys. Not that we do that every time. Only sometimes do we talk about the girls, and only when the girl is really crazy in bed. But the longer we live this lifestyle, the harder it is to top the last crazy fangirl story. Bragging about the conquests is getting old.

So I text back, trying to be as cool as possible about it.

That kitty Kat is off limits. No sharing. Stories or otherwise.

The reply is automatic.

I hear ya, brother. But I meant Big Sister.

Ashlynn. Fuck.

I can't believe she came here. She avoids Atlanta like the plague. She really must be desperate.

I call him immediately.

"She with you?"

"Nah, man. I'm at the press thing. I wouldn't give her your room number. I left her in my room."

"That was brave."

"I got you covered. You did the same for me, with Mac."

"It's not the same. Not at all."

"No, it's not, but it's the least I can do."

Ashlynn is pacing when I get in the room. She's frazzled and hurting, but she looks better than the last time I saw her. If Kat were here she'd think Ashlynn was a mess—stringy dirty blond hair and shapeless clothes over her entirely too-skinny frame, instead of the glossy golden curls and neat outfits she used to wear back in high school. People that didn't know her back then would just take it for that Boho—Coachella kind of style and say she's a hot hippie-chick.

She stops, takes in my bruises.

"What the hell happened to you?" she said.

"Fan that wasn't a fan," I wave my hand dismissively. "I can ask you the same. You were supposed to show up at the facility in Denver three weeks ago."

"I'm not a drug addict," she snaps. "You party, too."

"Ashlynn, I'm not saying you're a drug addict, I'm saying you need to get regulated. You were fine, for months. Remember how good you felt, last spring?" She was. The first year was rough, but she had a good stretch, last year. We actually had some halfway decent times. But maybe that was because the band was on hiatus in LA, and I could be there everyday, to keep her on her routine, and on her meds. Then, when the band went up to Portland to write for the new album, we pledged to leave all distractions behind. No non-essential personnel came with. I didn't even take Riley, but that was mostly because I wanted him to keep an eye on Ashlynn.

That's when everything went to shit. Ashlynn wouldn't listen to Riley, wouldn't let him help her. I think his togetherness is tough for her to take, because it reminds her of the way she was before. They had a few big blow-ups and she just...disappeared. I've been trying to convince her to come home for more than a year, but she won't. She just shows up randomly, stays a few days, a week at most, and then she's gone again.

"Trace, you know why I'm here," she sighs.

"Use your cards, Ashlynn. You have a wallet full."

"So you can keep tabs on where I go and with whom? Trace, I'm not a child."

"Then stop acting like one!"

"This isn't my fault, you know. My head," she complains, gripping her forehead. "it hurts all the time."

Ha, I know the feeling right now. I don't say that. My head will be fine, the headache is already easing on its own. Ashlynn's may never be fine again. I know she's not acting, she feels like shit most of the time. Her parents thought it was drama, but I know what hidden pain looks like. It's been her constant burden for two years. It was better, though, when her meds were regulated.

"What are you on?" I ask gently.

"Nothing, I swear. Not for days. I'm out of cash. Favors only goes so far, you know."

I try not to think too much about what kind of favors she means. I take pity on her and give her the bottle of pills the doctor gave me last night.

"This is what they gave me for the concussion," I gesture at my head. "It should help."

She reads the label and says, "Don't you have anything stronger?"

"Have you ever known me to have a candy stash?"

"Bodie?" she says hopefully.

"Sorry, flushed his last night."

Christ, when did I become the pill police?

I try the good cop approach, and say, "Ash, honey, I know it's rough. I know it's not your fault. But you can live better than this. You can feel better than this. You aren't trying to stay on your meds. Please, let me call that place in Denver right now. You liked it there. Remember all the yoga and hiking and shit? You can be on a plane by noon. I'll come visit before the European leg. I swear."

She rolls her eyes and pops three of the pills I just gave her, without water. "Just give me some money so I can take care of my pain, and I'll let you get back to your fun with your actual friends."

Okay, bad cop, then. "That wasn't our fucking deal, Ash," I growl. "I offered help, and legal protection. You were supposed to try. And now you think I'm just supposed to foot your bill til death do us part and wonder what the hell you are doing all the time? I don't see you for months. I don't know if you are dead or alive. Not to mention, I'm lying to your family. This was supposed to be a temporary thing, and I'm lying to Kat for you. It's got to stop."

Her expression changes from resentful to anxious. "You're talking to Kat? Why would you do that?"

"Because everything isn't about you, Ashlynn. I miss her. Why should I have to miss her, when you won't even try?"

"I tried it your way. That wasn't living. No friends, no life, never being able to go out anywhere with you and it's not like we were ever really—"

"I know," I cut her off. I can't have a discussion like that right now. Not with Kat down the hall. God, what the hell was I thinking, telling Kat about Ashlynn last night? It was crazy to think I could slowly bring them back together, manage them both in my life, and make them both understand.

"Are you seeing Kat?" she asks, her voice pitching up.

"I saw her last night at the concert. It was a late night. Riley got her a room. She's still here," I say flatly. Under present circumstances, I don't really feel I owe Ashlynn more of an explanation than that.

Ashlynn pales. "Here? In the hotel? Oh my god. I have to go." She heads to the door, but I block her way, grabbing her shoulders as gently as possible.

Despite how this might all blow up for me, I really do want to help Ashlynn. Maybe Kat can reach her, where I can't. "Why don't you stay? We can all sit down and talk."

"No." Her blonde hair flies around as she shakes her head. "No!" she backs away from me. "My parent were going to have me committed, Trace. Like, shock therapy committed."

"They can't do that now. You know they can't. We blocked that move, remember? We're not talking about your parents. They are out of the country, Ashlynn. Won't be back for ten days, Kat says. You don't have to see them. We're talking about your little sister. She loves you. I don't know why, because you've always been a pain in the ass," I smile at her, only half-joking. "Ashlynn, just give me a few minutes and I'll bring you to her."

As if it suddenly occurred to her, she cocks her head and asks. "Does she know?"

I shake my head. She laughs. "So you think it will only take a few minutes to explain?"

I raise my hands in a gesture of futility and drop them. No, I doubt I'll be able to explain in a way that Kat will be automatically cool with. But maybe instead of avoiding all this, it's time to try. I started all this shit with Ashlynn because Kat's family was hurting and I wanted to make it better for both Kat and Ashlynn. It was mostly for Kat, that I did this. Now I have to see it through.

Ashlynn smiles. Not a nice smile. "Give me the money Trace, or I'll explain it to her myself. My version."

Her version? What the hell does that mean? I might be able to eventually make Kat understand, but that's never going to happen if Ashlynn is giving her a different story. Kat already doesn't trust me anymore. "You wouldn't do that—make stuff up to hurt her."

"Do you really believe that, Trace? You and Kat ruined my life."

"Your life is not ruined, Ashlynn, it's just...detoured."

"No, it's ruined, and you two are to blame. If it weren't for that New Year's Eve when you and Kat decided to be stupid, I would be healthy and happy. I would still be with Cam, maybe even engaged. I would be in med school. But I helped you two, and you ruined me. You know it's true, that's why you are making amends. Kat should pay for her crime, too, don't you think?" She pulls out her cell phone. "Why don't I just call her and tell her all about how you've been lying to her for two years?"

I study her. She's skinny and jumpy, but she doesn't seem high right now. She might be jonesing, or this might just be one of her moods, but either way, it's likely she will make good on the threat. It's not like I can actually deny her money, just access to cash. She'll tell Kat everything and still skip away and use the cards to live off of.  My mind returns to what she said about "favors" for drugs.

With a huge amount of regret, I pull out my phone and call Riley.

"Ashlynn's here. Please take her to the bank."

"How much?" His voice is tight. This is the only thing I ask him to do that he despises. He says I'm enabling her.

"Thirty." I say to him, and give him Adam's room number.

She just turns away to the window. Not that I expected a thank you.

Fuck, why can't I ever make this better? Why can't I find a way to fix this? I want to get down on my knees and beg her to go to the facility.

The truth is, as much trouble as she is, I care about her. I grew up with her, too. She wasn't all bad. She was a good person, she just looked at everything very differently than I did, and wanted very different things, and got on my nerves with her spaz, over-achiever outlook. But she loved Kat—always tried to look out for her little sister--in the exact opposite way that I did. I loved seeing Kat test her limits, but I was there to catch her if she fell. Ashlynn wanted to keep her safe by suffocating her, not letting her take risks.

But it's undeniable that old Ashlynn tried to be a good big sister; she would have made a great doctor; she probably would have been happy with that guy—he seemed crazy about her, before everything went bad. The old Ashlynn liked to take care of people. For a few months last year, she seemed like her old self, but actually...nicer, more...understanding because of all the things she'd been through herself. We almost turned a corner. We almost liked and understood each other.

Now, I'm at my rope's end with her again. I've tried begging, forced tenderness, dramatic declarations. The truth is, all that shit makes her think of that guy she loved, and how that was real and our thing is...contrived. And that makes her bitter and more unstable. Ashlynn would much rather push my buttons and piss me off than tolerate fake affection from me. So I tell her the only thing I have left to say to her today.

"Do me a favor, darling? Don't put all of that thirty grand up your nose?"

"Fuck you, Trace."

I don't bother to tell her to wait here for Riley before I swing out the door. She knows the drill. We've done this enough times.

Wow, Trace has a BIG secret he's keeping from Kat! Why do you think he's willing to do this? Do you think there is more to his relationship with Ashlynn than is revealed in this chapter? What's driving Trace to help (or enable) Ashlynn? Will he tell Kat about this encounter ?

I would love to hear your thoughts! Don't forget to vote, thanks!