My Fucking Nightmare

Oh, my fucking head. I fought the nausea for a while as I cleaned up the remainder of my kitchen. Nice of Melissa to do most of the work. Never really saw that in the guys. Guess Brian was too impatient or sick to stay. We didn’t talk much at all last night. I saw him with her almost the entire time. I mean, as heartwarming as it was to see two people becoming so close as partners, I couldn’t help but feel that tightening bitterness when I remembered I had that for so long. And she tore my heart out and stepped on it. It wasn’t Brian’s fault. It wasn’t Melissa’s fault. Their circumstances were different, more pure. I was broken, damaged, and living with a ton of regret already.
For a while I’d guiltily forgotten about the girl whose number Brian gave me. Harriet was her name? Shit. I scrambled for my phone and found it almost dead under my pillow. Just as I suspected; a ton of texts. A missed call or two. Oh, fucking hell, I hoped this girl wasn’t like those clingy, needy things. As much as the attention would have been nice, I couldn’t let myself sink to that level. Brian was needy. And the way he went about getting girlfriends or getting laid was a little too genuine for my taste. Yet, he nailed it almost every time. Kinda wish my personality was like his.
I opened the phone to read all the texts. Stuff like cheeky little “Heys” or “What are you up to?” my heart sunk when the messages started getting worse. Becoming negative, upset, and angry. I was right about the clinginess. “Why aren’t you answering my texts?” I read that one aloud and shuddered. Probably a missed connection. Definitely screwed the pooch there. I called her number and waited for her to pick up. “Hello?” Came a ragged voice on the other end.
“Hey.” I muttered. Tried to sound guilty as hell.
“So now you decide to call. How was your night?”
I yawned and got up off my bed, heading for the kitchen. “Pretty late. Had the guys here for a barbecue, just getting over it now. I would have called you to come up but the first time we met up should be one on one.”
She shuffled around and I could hear water running. “I understand. Maybe we could arrange something for later. Melissa’s still out with Brian I think, not sure when they’ll be back.”
“How’s coffee sound? Could use a coffee.”
“Okay!” she chirped. “What time?”
“I’ll pick you up in an hour.” I asked for her address, even though I knew where it was since Brian talked about it constantly. Wouldn’t want to sound creepy. “Okay, see you then.” We hung up and I exhaled slowly, hoping to god almighty that my headache would soon fuck off. So I had a date planned. My brothers would be so proud. Well, if they knew about it.
As I got to the kitchen, I noticed Johnny was still out on the floor. Should probably try to wake him up. But Johnny was a little shit so I left him there. If he wasn’t awake by the time I got back from coffee, I’d kick him in the ass.
I had an hour to kill. Took a smoke break on the back deck with Bishop, tossing a couple of his chew toys into the pool. Hulky bastard loved to swim, and he didn’t shed much so the water wasn’t full of hair. We played fetch often. Probably made up for the amount of walks we could have had but never did. Bishop was my keeper, one of my best friends. Never judged me on anything except for my smoking habit. Used to knock cigarettes out of my mouth when he was a pup. I’d laugh about it whenever he gave me that condescending look when he saw the white tobacco stick protruding from my lips. “Yeah, last draw.” I always promised him, and extinguished the cigarette right after.
Today, despite his effort to want to jump in my lap and bat it away, I had several additional ones to ease my stomach pain and urge to vomit. About a half hour left now. In ten minutes I’d leave, hoping to miss the worst of rush hour traffic. Reach Harriet’s in fifteen minutes. Bring her to a small coffee shop downtown somewhere. Jesus, this was going to be my first legitimate date in years.
I hurdled to the bathroom to make any last-minute appearance fixes, hoping that the smell of alcohol was long gone from my breath. Brushed my teeth and combed the few cow licks of hair that stuck off from sleeping face-down on my bed. I put on a more presentable shirt and a pair of dark jeans that seemed cleaner than my other few pairs. Found my keys, cell phone, sun glasses. Made sure my wallet was in my ass pocket. I was ready, but felt terrified of the situation. What was she like? Was she preppy, or weird? If she was anything like Melissa, I’d be happy. At least to an extent.
I fired up my truck and sped down the hill towards town, turning up some music to drown out the city noise. Passersby gave funny looks as my arm hung out the open window, the sound blasting from my speakers. I gave no fucks. Anything to take the edge off.
When I pulled up to the curb she was waiting on a large rock in the complex’s flowerbed. She had with her a flashy hand bag and wore what looked like Prada but didn’t seem like the kind of girl that would splurge a portion of her paycheques on designer shit. Though in a city like this, I wouldn’t have been surprised. I waved her down and she bolted to the truck, climbing into the passenger’s seat. “Oh, it’s nice to finally meet you. Must be weird when I could pick you out of a crowd and you having not seen my face before.” She was right; it was weird. I knew it would take me a while to get used to her being a fan. And I hoped to god she wouldn’t use this opportunity to get in close with the band. I wanted a relationship, not to be her access to VIP lounges and stuff. Met lots of people like that.
She was a pretty girl, nonetheless. Freckles across her cheeks and nose, strawberry blonde hair in tight little curls, neck-length. She wore a nice perfume and a slight touch of makeup. Not enough to look like she’d swam in a bucket of foundation or anything, but just a touch to emphasize her cheekbones and take away the bags under her eyes. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you,” was all I could choke out. I hoped the edge would soon wear off. “How about that coffee?”
Her giggle was high-pitched and genuine. “I’m looking forward to it. Nice truck, by the way. I don’t see many people with pickups here.”
“Needed one for road trips. I suppose you know we do a lot of travelling in our line of work. Cars are usually too small for all my shit, same goes for the rest of the crew. I’ve got a ’77 Camaro in my garage that’s needing work done, and a chopper.” I watched her eyes bulge. “We band guys don’t usually like to spend all our time together, you know.”
“Yeah, but you guys are pretty close, aren’t you?”
I chuckled. “Oh, like family. It’s just not enough for social interaction. We’re different people with different lives off stage. Two have families, the others want families. Especially Brian.”
She sighed, staring out the window at the passing buildings. “That’s what Melissa said. So off stage, what do people call you?”
I laughed and wiped my forehead as the hot LA heat was finally getting to me, even with the air on. “We actually dis o have names. Surprisingly, much to your curiosity, lots of kids don’t probably know our real names. Off stage, or even on stage, doesn’t matter to me…I prefer Matt. Matt Shadows, anyway. Sanders is so lame.”
Harriet nodded and eyed me up. “Alright, Matt. Geez, all this talk about your band stuff is making me way too excited. Do you do anything on the days you’re not touring or doing music stuff?”
“Oh, every blue moon do I get days and nights to myself. There’s always someone or a group of people at my place. Drinking beers, smoking smokes. Dogfucking, really. When I do get time away, I work on my car, on my bike. Sometimes drive to Huntington Beach to see my family.” Wait, should I have said that? “Eh, it’s all boring stuff. What about you? What do you do?”
“I’m a bartender down at the 4100. Been there a couple years, make a killing in tips. It’s been nice having a couple days off, but I usually work late at night anyway. We get the occasional celebrity here and there. Movie stars and exclusives mostly.”
Never been there. “Hmm, you might have run into Johnny on occasion. Of course his appearance is way different when he’s home than when he’s in the groove so. Probably hard to recognize.”
“I’m sure I’d be able to spot him, but I always miss the cool stuff. Don’t usually work weekends and that’s when lots of celebrities come down.”
“Probably tip well.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised. Lots of them, that I’ve served anyway, have their heads so far up their asses, thinking they don’t need to tip. Ordering drinks by the dozens. Demanding top quality service, and for what? Nil. Nothing at all.”
“I assure you my boys tip well. Perhaps we’ll come down some night you’re on.”
“I bet my coworkers would love that. We all love your stuff.”
It was funny watching people get star struck sometimes. On occasion, it made my day. It was something we’d all gotten somewhat used to, showing our faces in public, having people gawk over how attractive we were, shit like that. We used to feed off of that. “Well, then I’ll be sure to bring everyone down. Turn it into a block party.”
It was adorable when she got excited too, I noticed. “Oh my god, that would be so cool! What would it take for you guys to do that?”
I shrugged. “Not much, really. I mean it would be nice to keep somewhat low-profile so all of Los Angeles didn’t show up to see it, so no announcements or anything spectacular. We wouldn’t probably put on a show, either. Too much equipment for a downtown bar. But our group throws some wicked fucking parties.”
“I can imagine. You didn’t seem like you were doing so hot when you pulled up earlier. Must have been a good night.”
“Had better nights.”
“Well, I worked last night anyway. Sorry for bombarding your phone.”
I waved her off, shaking my head. “Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have blown you off like that. Don’t really remember much about last night, anyway.” We got to the little café just off Sunset Boulevard. I helped her out of the truck and escorted her to the entrance. Inside was busy, but not packed. Mostly just business men sitting at two-seated tables flicking through newspapers. This was more like a diner, but it wasn’t too shabby. Used to come here a lot when we were starting out.
A waitress came along and passed us menus. She introduced herself, took our orders for coffee, and left to give us a minute to decide whether we would eat or not. I was fucking starving, so I ordered a breakfast plate. “Ordering anything?” I asked her, folding my menu and placing it down in front of me.
She eyed the menu a little more and shrugged. “Not too sure yet. Maybe…the club. I’m a sandwich girl.” Having decided as well, she folded her menu and stacked it on top of mine. Our waitress brought our coffees and took our orders. While waiting, I leaned back against my chair as she leaned forward and folded her arms on the table. “So, what are you looking for in a relationship?” Damn, she didn’t hold much back.
“Actually, I haven’t gotten that far yet. My fiancée left me about a year ago. Haven’t been looking around much since then. Just something to occupy some of the loneliness.” I was hoping to avoid saying that, but I had a feeling it was best to lay everything out first hand. “I’m not closed off to anything long term though. Just having some issues with trust is all.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I actually just got over someone that cheated so I’m still adjusting to all that. We weren’t engaged or anything. Hmm, I guess you don’t need to hear all that.” She sipped her coffee, watching me the whole time. In all honesty, I was relaxed around her. “I’m sorry.”
I sipped my coffee too, taking in a full mouth full. It had been so long since I drank coffee. “No, don’t worry about it. I’m glad we can be open about that stuff.”
“Me too. You seem like a really great guy, behind all that famous band stuff. You guys must get so tired of the tours and shows every night.”
“Not really, no. The music literally becomes part of us. Hard to forget. Kind of like riding a bicycle, really. Coming home from tours is always a great thing but it’s something else to see so much support across the world for our shows. I…just want something to come home to.” I was trying so hard to woo her and not scare her off at the same time. I wonder how Brian did it.
The waitress came around again with our steaming food. Man, was I excited. Mounds of egg with toast, hash browns, bacon and sausage. I’d pay extra for them both, but holy shit was it worth it. Harriet’s eyes lit up when she saw her club. Huge stacker sandwich, looked pretty good. If she was a food enthusiast like me we’d get along just fine. “Any good?” I asked her as she took her first few bites.
Without wanting to be rude, she nodded and gave a thumbs up. “To die for.”
I laughed and stuffed my mouth with more eggs. “Good, I’m glad.”
Silence ensued as we ate our meals. I began to grow suspicious of people watching us, slowly recognizing me. There was always the one fan that wanted to interrupt a meal by asking for an autograph or picture. I wasn’t usually a dick about it, although this was a little more of a special occasion, and my head hurt way too much to want to deal with it today. I just kept my head down, smiled at Harriet, and ate what I could until I was full. Shockingly, she finished her heaping club way faster than I did. I was impressed.
Typical girl; pulled out her makeup stash from her purse and checked her cherry lipstick. When she saw me notice she giggled and put it away. I finished my last few bites, leaving behind a slice of buttered toast and a few egg pieces. Nothing drastic, just didn’t want to overdo it. “Satisfying?”
“Oh, yes.” Harriet reached across the table to touch my hand. I never noticed the tattoo stretching up her arm. Admirable ink, I thought. Sugar skull with blooming red and blue flowers supporting it. “Anything on your mind?”
“I just…I think you’re a beautiful girl. And I feel like this could be a regular thing. With, of course, a little more permanence.” I watched her eyes light up again and admittedly felt the fluttering in the core of my belly. Did I overdo it? Nah. “How about we get out of here and take my dog for a walk.”
“I like that plan.” She beamed with a bright smile.
I waved the waitress down and got the cheque. When I paid and let her gather all her stuff we left the diner and climbed back into the truck to get back to my place for our walk. I was a little edgy letting this girl see where I lived, but I wasn’t about to stay totally private. She seemed normal, trustworthy. When we got to my place she trailed behind me to my front door where Bishop sat, barking madly at Harriet. “Hey, calm down, boy. Just a girl.” He sniffed her a couple times and quieted down. “Where’s your leash?” I prompted him, and amusedly watched as he scrambled back through the house, frantically leaping for his leash hanging in the kitchen.
Proudly dragging it back to us, I hitched it to his collar and he led us outside down the drive. Big beast had a mighty pull. Took a minute to adjust to his steady yanking, and we hit a good striding speed. She grabbed for my hand. At first I was taken aback, and soon realized how nice it was to have that. “Well, let’s talk about you a little more. Are you from Los Angeles?”
“No, not originally. I’m from Arizona. Moved here about a year ago with my ex, not the one I was talking about. Promised me that Hollywood would bring success, fortune, and fame. I had no desire for the fame. Everything else was great. Things were cheaper in Arizona, though. Found a job at the bar, stuck with it for a while, but couldn’t make rent unless I went hungry for a couple weeks at a time. Eventually put ads out for a wanted roommate and that’s how I met Melissa.”
“Arizona’s nice. Ever consider going back there?”
Harriet shook her head. “I grew distant from my family. I prefer it this way. No criticism from them, no pressure to abide by what they want from me. It sucks not knowing anyone outside of work and home, anyways. You said you were from Huntington Beach once or twice. Is it nice there?”
I cleared my throat, as the thick smog was starting to stick onto us. “Way nicer than LA, no joke. Less pollution, less people. Nicer beaches. We all grew up there.”
“Never been. Would you take me some day?”
“Definitely. Are you a fan of motorcycles? The trip is so much nicer on bike.”
Her grip tightened. “Honestly, I’ve never been on a bike. It sounds freaky.”
“Oh, god no.” I assured her. “It’s just as safe as a car, if you know how to ride properly. Brian and I are bike fanatics. He, his dad, and I used to rip around Orange County on our days off. Definitely something you’re going to have to get used to if we’re gonna keep seeing each other.” We both laughed nervously. Bishop continued to pull, and I regretted not bringing his halter. “I said it before, but it might be neat if you, Brian, and Melissa, and I all rode up together to Huntington for a day. Spend the day at the beach, toss back a few beers. Play a little volleyball…” I trailed off as I noticed she was slightly preoccupied. “Hey, everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, sorry. Just getting used to all this.”
I nodded understandingly and stopped us all for a minute. “Don’t worry, I know where you’re coming from. I’m really enjoying this. Hope you are too. But after we’re finished, I could bring you home. No sense in pushing it.”
She hugged me with long, skinny arms. I could feel her hurt and pain. “Thank you, Matt. This has been really nice, really different. It’s not every day a girl like me goes out for lunch with a celebrity.”
I snickered. “I don’t see any difference. I just play music.”
“You’re a really talented musician. Everyone finds that attractive nowadays. You even said so yourself, you thrive on all the attention you guys get.”
She was right. “Well, like being a bartender or a waitress, it’s a job. There’s no real security. Our careers could go under any day. Pray we don’t because the money’s great and the lifestyle is…well, better than most jobs these days.” When we hit the bottom of the hill we strolled up another street that would take us back up to my place without struggling with the grade. It would have been fine if it weren’t for the fucking smog.
When we got back to my place I let Bishop into the gated backyard to prance around like he usually did. Harriet and I stood in the front for a moment to chat a little more before I brought her home. “I had a lot of fun today,” she said. I could hear the happiness in her voice, and it sounded genuine, but she was very hard to read. I could tell that talking about her ex was difficult, just as it was difficult for me, but she didn’t let me see much of her emotions. “Thank you for lunch.”
“My pleasure.” I beamed, pulling her in again. I hoped she didn’t think I was being too forward, too over-friendly. Then she kissed my cheek and I was pretty sure I’d blushed. “I’ll talk to Brian and see if or when he wants to do that trip. I think it was him that brought it up anyways. It would be cool to do a doubles thing. Sorry I couldn’t have been more of…an endearing guy.”
“Matt, it’s okay.” She promised, her cheek not leaving my bristly own. Harriet really didn’t make me feel out of place. It felt natural in most ways, yet I was still reminded of the pain I’d endured just a short while ago. We seemed to hit it off.
I let her out of my arms for a minute so I could bring Bishop back inside. “Well, should I get you home?” I asked rhetorically.
“Thank you for giving me a chance.” Harriet whispered audibly loud enough that made me unsure what to say. “Must be a weird feeling for you to take someone like me out on a date.”
“Honestly, I was a little bit petrified at first.”
She laughed and buckled herself in. “Oh, I’m no gold digger, if that’s what you’re getting at. I’ve got high enough standards, I wouldn’t sink that far.”
While giggling, I put the truck into reverse and backed out of my driveway. “I appreciate that sentiment. Glad we hit it off so well.”
“Me too.” She reached for my hand again. I felt my stomach acting funny again. Perhaps I’d have to punch a wall or something to regain my masculinity again. Or maybe I was just so broken I hadn’t allowed myself to open up to feelings of love again. Whatever this was going to become, I felt relatively at ease.
When I dropped her off a wave of sadness fell on me. I didn’t want to have to drive back across town to my house. I didn’t want to be alone tonight. And shit, I didn’t even check to see if Johnny was still on my fucking floor, for fuck sakes. I abandoned all gooey feelings and gunned the truck down the street.
Just as I suspected, but not to my gravest of fears, I found the runt still asleep, but while I was gone he must have pulled himself off the floor to the couch. Bishop lay beside him, licking his hand that had fallen limp over the side of the cushion. I checked his breathing, checked his mouth for vomit. Noticed that it was just past four in the afternoon. I grabbed a cup of cold water and splashed him in the face with it, only to have him jump wide awake and sputter. “It’s four in the afternoon, runt. Party’s over.”
Just as the loneliness swept over me again, I vanished back into my bedroom to pout.
I let the feelings all come back, and wept. It was time now to move on for good.

Notes