Falling Down(136)

Her head springs up. "Yes!"
I chuckle. "Okay. Let me find that mirror," I tell her, searching through drawers. "Ah, here we go. Ready?" I ask her.
She nods.
"Tell me which way to tilt." I hold up the mirror and she directs me. I know the minute she gets a clear image because she gasps.
"Oh my… Jesse this is perfect."
"Those are your lips from that one modeling thing you did. Harley found a picture online."
"Wow," she breathes. "It's perfect. Lips blowing out musical notes. I love the band name in blush and black over the top of everything. It makes me think that while the music is important, the band is more important and that's true. Without happiness and contentment in the band, the music would suck ass."
I nod. "Beautiful brilliant girl."
She smiles.
"Let's get that goopy shit on your tats and find you something comfortable yet respectable to wear."
"Respectable?"
"Well, as phenomenal as your tits are, I don't want the guys checking out my woman's rack. I'd have to punch someone and I'd rather avoid that if I can."
"It'd be Xander."
"Fucking A it would. He tried to check out your ass and tit at Harley's."
She laughs. "I know. There was no hiding my ass, I mean it was out there, but it's just a little area and not worth mentioning. But he tried so damn hard to see my boob. It was hilarious. Sera and I kept laughing at him."
I nod. "He's a perv."
"So are you," she says, challenging with the raise of a brow.
"I am, but I don't check out other dude's women."
She rolls her eyes. "Please. When you were whoring you didn't give a shit who the chick was with."
I run a hand over the back of my neck, a bit ashamed of how I behaved.
"I did."
"It's not okay but I get your reasoning now."
I nod. "Thanks."
She nods. "Now goop me up so I can dry my hair before it gets all funky."
I grab the tube and begin spreading the gunk over her tats.
Her gaze meets mine in the mirror when she drops the towel.
I groan when the phone rings in the other room. "Probably a good thing since you're already getting sore."
She nods, her eyes filled with want and desire.
I head to the bedroom and pick up my phone.
"Who is it?" she asks.
"Cage."
"Oh good."
"Yo," I say by way of answering.
He only says two words. "Show time."



Chapter Twenty-Three
Lucy
With everything that Whitney whore started, the media blew up calling me all kinds of vile names. All I could do at first was clench my fists. Then Cage came over and we all--both bands--had a meeting. Spenser, Carmen, Simone and even Mrs. Martinez sat in on the meeting. Everyone less than pleased with the latest turn of events.
My mother called and rescheduled the party for the following weekend, pending our recording schedule. Thank goodness. One less thing to worry about--well, two actually. First, I wouldn't have to listen to my mother go on and on about what a mistake I was making and how I should just stick with acting where there's less drama. Honestly sometimes I could shake her and tell her to wake up and smell the coffee. The life of an actress is where this all stems from. I haven't even broached into the career of a rocker yet. Gah. Second, she wouldn't see my tattoos--yet. I know it's petty and juvenile of me to hide this from her, but right now I can't be bothered to deal with any more bullshit. This is where Cage comes in.
Our savior. Our white knight. Our knight in shining armor. The man who has the answer to every situation. Cage came up with the perfect solution and as it's seven-thirty Monday morning, I'm ready to get this underway.