Page 16 of The Masks We Wear

“Is it a girlfriend?”

“No.”

I raise a brow. “Do you have a kid?”

He frowns, “No. Stop asking me questions. My life is none of your business.”

He’s single, unmarried, and has no kids, so who the hell is he texting? I’m about to ask a follow up question even though he told me not to, but the dressing room door opens and a girl in all black clothing enters. “Brody, you’re up.” She grins from ear to ear, genuinely excited about her job.Oh honey,I want to say.Hollywood will eat you up and spit you right out.But I don’t say either of those things. Instead, I follow her out and Harvey follows me. I need him to not follow me around. I can’t slip past him if he’s behind me at every waking moment. I need him distracted and out of my way.

I film my scene before Aria, Ivory, and I have wardrobe changes and updates to our hair and makeup. They change mymakeup and make it look natural, almost as if I’m not wearing any at all. They take the chains out of my hair and style it in a low bun at the back of my head. They do the same to Ivory and Aria before they usher us all into identical schoolgirl outfits and have us film the last scenes. I notice Harvey, typing away on his phone the whole time and know he’s distracted. Once we finish, Aria and Ivory tell me about their night out at Veil, our favorite nightclub and how much fun they had. I have the bitter taste of of jealousy on my tongue and in my belly, but I don’t say anything. I don’t expect them to isolate themselves becauseI’misolated, but I expect them to be sympathetic and not rub it in my face. I can’t hold them accountable though, because again the two of them are fucked up. “How much blow did you do today?” I ask, suspicion in my voice.

Aria snorts a laugh and Ivory giggles, “Like half a bag. Beatrix gave it to us last night when we were out. You know how good her stuff is.” Beatrix Banes is one of the most well-known faces in rock and metal. She’s a damn good singer but she doesn’t play any instruments. If you thought the shit that we did was bad, Beatrix is worse. She spent a month in jail for slapping a store employee across the face after said employee confronted her for peeing on the floor of the store, pants and panties down and all. She also crashed into the front of the same store only minutes after the first two offenses. She was so drugged up she didn’t even know what she was doing. Beatrix found us before we got big and asked us to open for her shows on her tour and we agreed, excited to work with our idol. We became super close with her and now she’s like an older, super mentally deranged older sister who falls off the face of the earth but then hits us up every now and then to do a shit ton of drugs and to fuck shit up in LA. Some of my best times have been with Beatrix so I’m jealous they got to hang with her while I was cooped up in my room with my drum set.

“Yeah.” I sigh as I look down. I look up at Harvey to find his eyes on me. We stare at each other for a split second before his phone rings and he takes the call with no hesitation. He turns his back on me and walks away so he can speak in private. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. Harvey Taylor, FUCK YOU! “Let’s go to the studio.” I demand, grabbing both of their arms with excitement in my tone and in my eyes. My body just came alive.

“Now?” Ivory asks, confusion in her tone.

I drag them along, “Yes, now! Let’s go before the babysitter gets back. I got a bag of edibles.”

“Say less.” Aria starts running beside me and soon we’re a mess of giggles and chuckles. We continue running until we get our hands on the baggie and find our way out of the building. We don’t stop running until we make it to the street and then we flag a cab down.

––––––––

“MY MOUTH IS SOfucking dry.” Ivory complains from where she lies on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

“Here.” Aria laughs as she passes Ivory the gigantic bottle of whiskey we’ve been sharing. Ivory takes a huge sip and sighs, relaxing.

This is exactly what I needed. A high, some whiskey, and my best friends. Throw in the fact that we made a song minus the lyrics, and I’m golden. We’ve been here for hours. Harvey free, Selene free, responsibility free, yet somehow still dressed in our schoolgirl uniforms. I jump off the couch and onto the coffee table, pointing at Aria, “This is fucking awesome.”

She laughs, “What is?”

I spin around on the table, “This! Us!”

Ivory chuckles, “We miss you.”

“I miss you guys too.” I lament, my features falling. “Thisbabysitter sucks. All he does is bitch me around and so does Selene. I get we’re facing potential jail time but come on. I’m totally capable of staying out of jail and still getting high. They just wanna kill my vibe.” I complain as I jump off the table and snatch up the bottle of whiskey. I take a few large gulps and then hand it back to Ivory.

Aria frowns, “Sorry, Sticks.”

I shrug. “It’s only three months. Then he’s gone and we can go back to fucking shit up.”

“Wooooooo!” Ivory cheers.

“I’m shocked your phone hasn’t been going crazy with the babysitter trying to find you.” Aria admits.

I laugh, “I shut that shit off. He’s not finding me and he’s not ruining my vibe.”

I seat myself at my drum set and start slamming the sticks down on the drums. It’s the same song we just made, but I love the beat so much I can’t get it out of me. It’s the same song I was tapping out on my leg and humming last week on the way to the shoot. I liked the beat then and showed it to the girls today and they built on it from there. I slam the sticks down on the cymbals in excess, loving the sound. I twirl the sticks around my fingers when the parts of the song where the drums are silent come and then slam the sticks back down on the toms.

Aria picks up her guitar and adds to the song all while Ivory shoves handfuls of chips into her mouth. She always gets the worst munchies.

The door to our studio slams open and the sticks fall out of my hands and roll under the couch. The doorknob leaves a dent in the wall and Harvey storms into the room with his hands balled into fists at his sides. He lookspissed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so pissed. His eyes land on mine, and the pure fury that radiates off of him in waves says it all. He’s probably been looking for me for hours. I smirk at how pissed he is, loving thatI’m the cause, but the smirk falls when he storms over to where I sit at the set and wraps a hand around my upper arm. He yanks me out of my seat so hard, I stumble on my feet, and he doesn’t do anything to steady me. Instead, he screams at me, only inches away from my face, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice is so dark it almost scares me. Almost.

“A lot of shit.” I laugh.

He doesn’t find me funny. “What did you take?” He demands.

I roll my eyes, but the movement feels so slow from the drugs. I laugh, “Why does it matter? I’m gonna fail your stupid ass drug test anyway and we both know it.”

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