Page 4 of Not Another Rockstar
The smell of cigarettes and other smokable substances didn’t help settle her rolling stomach.How out of their minds are they that they didn’t even notice me entering the room?Judging from the half empty bottles of whiskey and champagne: very.
Without thinking, Phoebe stepped into the room, grabbed a vase of sunflowers by the door and threw them at the dresser beside the half-naked pair fucking on the couch, still completely unaware of her presence. The smash of the mirror and the shattering of the vase seemed to do the trick.
“Who the fuck are you?” Cillian snapped, his voice hoarse after hours of singing. It was the venom in his tone, though, that made him sound completely unrecognisable.
Phoebe had never seen such anger in his eyes as when they met hers. Everything moved in slow motion. His bleached hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, the smile she’d loved so much punctured by two new lip piercings. He didn’t even look like the man she’d agreed to marry only a month ago.
“Fuck! Phoebe? What the fuck are you doing here?” Cillian quickly straightened up and zipped his jeans as though he hadn’t been caught in the act. An image she wouldn’t be able to scrub from her mind.
She wanted to laugh—he made it sound like she was intruding.
The woman didn’t show any remorse, glaring at her unashamedly and accusingly. Phoebe recognised her pitch-black hair and smoky eyes: the band’s make-up artist, Helen. They’d met half a dozen times; she’d always been so friendly. Maybe her cheery mood had been because she was getting laid—her lack ofreaction led Phoebe to believe this wasn’t the first time they’d been walked in on.
The desire to throw up returned as she listened to the blood pumping in her ears. If she stayed a moment longer, she wasn’t sure who she’d strangle first. Cillian called her name, but it sounded like he was underwater.
She forced herself through the fluorescent corridors, back the way she’d come. None of the staff paid her any mind. They couldn’t see that she’d been stabbed in the heart.
Reaching the staff entrance, she heard a rush of footsteps behind her. Someone’s rough hand grabbed her elbow and pulled her away from the exit. Rage surged through her.
“Cillian, let go of me!” She didn’t care who heard. Hell, she hoped they did. She hoped they knew what a disgusting, pathetic cheat he was. Then it hit her: did everyone know? They’d worked with the same make-up artist for the whole tour. Months!
Her thoughts were silenced when she realised it wasn’t Cillian who had a hold of her. Axel’s startled eyes searched hers; he stood so close she was forced to stare up at him. It was hard to mistake the two, Axel was taller than Cillian, and older. His breath was heavy—he’d run after her. Was he here to be the voice of reason, to defend his friend?
Axel’s shaved hair and constant ‘don’t fuck with me’ expression had a way of making everyone shrink around him. She wasn’t in the mood to shrink; she wanted to destroy this whole place like Godzilla on a rampage. Stomp everyone into the ground and roar until her throat bled.
“Phoebe, you can’t go out there.” It sounded like a command more than a request. His refusal to remove his hand from her arm only fuelled her desire to scream. Why he cared, she didn’t know; they’d never been friends. He clearly knew what Cillian had done, and suddenly she felt an overwhelming humiliation that forced her to look away from Axel’s searching eyes.
Cillian hadn’t locked the door.Did he even care about getting caught? About hurting me?The wave of emotions strangled her.
“Are you alright? I didn’t know Phoebe was coming tonight.”
Axel had gritted his teeth as he overheard Cillian’s consoling words. He watched Phoebe storm down the corridor; she didn’t even notice him standing by the door. Glass crunched under his boots as he entered Cillian’s dressing room.So that’s what the crash was,he thought, looking at the broken mirror. Phoebe must have discovered the truth, to leave this much destruction behind her. Axel took a deep breath, furious. She shouldn’t have had to find out about Cillian’s cheating this way.
“We never should have listened to your promises to end it,” he said, staring at the haphazardly dressed pair. “You were never going to confess everything to Phoebe, were you?”
“Now isn’t the best time for a lecture,” Cillian snapped, picking up a bottle of vodka from the table. Helen didn’t look up at him; she just focused on her hands on her thighs.
They’d all hoped Cillian’s recent destructive behaviour was due to the pressure they were under, but it was becoming a habit. Nobody in the band had wanted to be the one totell Phoebe. Nick, being her elder brother, didn’t want to get involved in her relationship. August, who thought of Phoebe like a sister, didn’t want to pick sides. That only left Axel, and he wasn’t the right person to tell her.
“I have no interest in lecturing you, but the least you can do is go after Phoebe instead of standing here drinking like a coward!” Axel grabbed him by his fashionably torn T-shirt with their band’s snake logo and shoved him towards the doors.
“Why should I?” Cillian sneered. Axel smelt the alcohol on his breath. He would’ve knocked Cillian on his ass, but he didn’t want to ruin his hands. They were already sore from drumming all night.
“She threw a vase at us! Could’ve sliced us both up. I’ll talk to her when she calms down,” Cillian argued, and from the size of his pupils he wasn’t thinking clearly.
“You didn’t bother to go to her exhibition, and she still turned up to surprise you, only to find you balls deep in another woman, and you’re pissed about some broken glass?” Axel was doing his best not to throttle him. When Cillian sobered up, he’d hate himself. A cycle that had repeated after every show this tour. It was getting old fast.
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. I’m not some other woman!” Helen barked, getting between them.
Axel ignored her attempt to play the victim. “I’m sorry, but has he been dating you for over a decade? Have you got a ring on your finger?”
He didn’t blame Helen for falling for Cillian; his charm won everyone over. Cillian was the one who’d broken his commitment to Phoebe.
“Don’t speak to her like that!” Cillian got in his face.
Axel shoved him back, before he did something he’d regret. Helen left in a huff without another word; she was used to Cillian’s drunken tantrums.
“Where was this protective instinct when it comes to the woman you’re meant to love, to marry?” Axel snapped.
