Page 2 of Contentment
But as I walk out of the bedroom at the back of the tour bus and see that both bathrooms are occupied by who I’m thinking is Eric—who happens to be our lead guitarist—and by the dead animal smell seeping out of the door, I decide pissing anywhere else would be ideal. And I’m sure Briggs is in the one that’s inthe bedroom, since he wasn’t in bed with me when I cracked my eyes open.
Being a woman in a heavily male-dominated field hasmanydownsides…and this is one of them.
The one plus side is I don’t have to worry about getting ready for shows. We always have Michelle with us, but as I step off the tour bus to head to the bathrooms they have here on site, I’m all of a sudden chest to stomach with a brick wall. A brick wall that happens to be a god of a man. That happens to be holding the cutest wiener dog I’ve ever seen. “Oh my fucking God! Can I pet it?! I love wiener dogs so, so much!”
“Now honey, I am a random man outside of your tour bus…what if I was a serial killer?” The southern drawl—fuck—he cannotlook like this and have an accent…He then mumbles under his breath, “Who needs candy when you can use your dog?”
I crank my neck back to look up at him. He really is huge, but he has a full face of makeup, and this may not be the best thing to judge off of, but a male presenting person in makeup is my safe place. “Well, big scary serial killer, if I get taken out while petting this precious baby…I’ll die a happy gal.” I stick my hand out for the sweet dog to sniff and add in a sing-songy voice, “I’m just a girl.”
He leans down and, barely above a whisper, says, “I’m no serial killer, as far as I’m aware.” He holds my gaze, and I dart my eyes away, the eye contact being too much—too provocative. Then, in his normal tone, he explains, “This is Mildred, and I’m Felyx.” He drops his duffle bag down to the grass and sticks his hand out for me to shake it. I think he’s figured out his voice and accent are doing something for me…“I’m the new hairdresser taking the place of Michelle.”
“I’m Scottie.” His beaming smile, with his firm yet gentle handshake, is enough to have my knees wobbling. My head isstill tilted back to make eye contact again, which shouldn’t be this hard. I’m tall for a woman at five foot nine, but his body easily engulfs mine.
I’m petting Mildred like she’s the best thing I’ve ever seen, and his voice breaks me out of my trance. “Where do you all get ready? I wanted to start getting set up, so I’m good and ready by the time I’m needed.”
“We usually just get ready in here.” I nod my head towards the huge tour bus behind me that I just climbed off of. “It’s nothing special, but we don’t have the separate trailer to get ready or anything super fancy.”
“I’m sure it’ll work just fine.”
Forgetting my bladder completely, I offer a tour of the bus. “Come on, I’ll show you around. I will warn you it smells horrible—one of the guys is bombing the bathroom as we speak.” The laughter that bursts out of him takes me by surprise, but he’s quick to school his emotions.
“You’re fucking funny.” He wipes what I’m guessing is a tear of laughter from under his eye, probably not wanting to mess up the masterpiece that his makeup is.
Then the idea hits me, and the words fall from my lips before I can stop them, “Oh My God! Please tell me you can do my makeup too!” I’m jumping up and down when he smiles at me, and I add for a little bit of context, “I should know how to do makeup, being a woman and all, but I don’t have the slightest clue besides a little mascara here and there. I grew up with two brothers…there wasn’t a ton of makeup happening in the house.”
“It would be my pleasure to do your makeup, honey!” Michelle wasn’t big on makeup, so having someone who was into it is going to be so much fun.
We step onto the tour bus, and while he’s looking around, I start to explain where everything is. “Master bedroom is all the way in the back; there’s also a bathroom in there. The four full-size bunks are in the hallway, but those aren’t used a ton; Eric usually sleeps on the other bus with his wife—she’s the band manager.” His brows shoot up, and I lean in slightly to him. “Yeah, it wasveryforbidden when it first happened; now they’ve been married for years. They’re boring.” I give a dramatic eye roll and wave my hands out in front of me. “Then we have our little booth-type table and kitchen on the other side of the bus behind us, then a couch and TV like a little living room. There you have it, that’s the infamous Obsidian Static tour bus.”
“It does have a homey vibe in here.”
“Thank you! I decorated it since we’re in this place the majority of the time.” I was so tired of looking at the plain walls and basic furnishings that came with the bus that I took those sticky strips and made the walls in this place as eclectic as possible without making it hazardous.
“Well, you did great, Scottie.” The way my name comes from his lips should not have this effect on me…but my animal of a pussy reacts nonetheless.
“I—you can set up right here if you want to.” I move to the side and gesture to the table that none of us use. We always just chill on the couch whenever we have free time, with a blunt and veg out while watchingBob’s Burgers. It’s secretly my favorite thing Briggs and I do, but I would never admit that to his face.
“Yes, this is perfect. Can I sit Mildred down?”
“Of course, this is her place to roam free as she sees fit. She’s now been crowned as the queen of the tour bus.” And roam that precious, long-haired, dappled wiener dog does. She even has the cutest little orange ponytail on the top of her head.
I finish my workout, shower, and am back in front of Felyx, ready for him to get control of this wild mane of hair I have. Briggs ended up being out shopping this morning and wasn’t even in the bathroom earlier. I should’ve checked, but then I wouldn’t have run into Felyx like I did.
?*He starts by blow drying and using one of those brushes that are way too easy to get your hair caught in. My long, blonde hair is thick as hell, and it takes me way too long to blow dry it on my own. Then he asks me, “What do you want to do with it?”
“I have no clue…Michelle would always do the same thing. Again, I grew up with brothers, so I can’t do much more than straighten it or put it up in a ponytail.”
“Do you want something different?” The sheepish look I know is covering my face, which causes a smug grin to land on his lips. “I’d say that’s a yes. Trust me, I won’t let you down.” That thought of him not wanting to disappoint me had my stomach doing flips.
Honestly, I’m just thankful we’re not in a normal salon and have a mirror to drool over him. I can do that while he’s doing Briggs' hair.
I’m fucking stupid.
Why I thought I wouldn’t be seeing him is beyond me. This man is on his knees in front of me, patting some kind of makeup on my face. I’m sitting at the edge of the booth, with him right in front of my spread knees, with a makeup brush to my face. I’m not kidding. I almost let a moan out a second ago when he reached over me to grab a tube of makeup and the flexing of his arm muscles in his black, sleeveless shirt.
I act like I’m not getting fucked three ways to Sunday almost every night or day. Briggs doesn’t discriminate with the hour, but who could blame me? Felyx is beautiful. And he’s actively fighting against every societal norm the patriarchy says a masculine man should be.
And that’s my kryptonite.
