Page 22 of Down Beat
EIGHT
Tabitha
“My Fight” – From Ashes to New
The SUVs that we’re packed into are nothing short of pretentious penis extensions. Who the hell needs twenty-inch brushed metal rims just to get from A to B? I mean I get the whole upkeep of the image thing, but really.
“You want help to get your stuff?”
I snap my head around to glare at Rey where he sits on the opposite end of the seat, legs spread wide in an arrogant show of power. “I can manage, thank you.”
Two black behemoths turned up outside the hotel, and considering there are eight of us who needed a lift, I assumed we’d split the group evenly between the two. No such luck. Kris called shotgun on the second vehicle, a guy who I’ve learned is called Toby hustling Kendall into the back seat, before their manager Rick decided to forgo the fold-out rear seats and piled a very drunk Emery into the cargo area.
That left only Rey and the bodyguard, Pete, to travel in the lead vehicle with me.
Yay. Seriously. Could this be any more awkward?
“It’s the next block up, so wherever you can find a space to pull over,” I tell the driver.
“What number?”
“Two eighty-five. It’s the one with the patisserie on ground level there.”
He gives a curt nod, and then proceeds to block the lane of traffic as he double parks. The two SUVs sit with their hazard lights flashing, cars honking at them, as I launch myself out the open door.
“Loop the block,” Rey tells the guy as he proceeds to scoot across the seat.
“Hey.” I lift a hand. “I said I can cope. It’s a violin. Hardly a struggle to carry on my own, you know.”
“I know.” He thrusts both feet toward me, launching himself out the door. “But I want to see where you live.”
I don’t get a chance to protest before he has the SUV door shut, and some guy hurls abuse as the convoy starts away again.
“Sheesh.” Rey lifts his top lip at the disgruntled motorist. “Little bit of patience, buddy.”
“Yeah, well, not everyone takes it upon themselves to stop wherever the hell they want around here.” I pull my phone out as we approach my apartment building, noting a new message from Kendall.
K: Take your time ;)
A selfie accompanies the message: her reclined against that Toby guy as he leans on the car door, tossing devil horns.
Ugh.
“Ladies first.” Rey holds the door open, throwing me a wink as I pass by with a frown.
He follows me up the stairs, hands in pockets as he silently takes in the details of the worn yet tidy complex.
“What are you thinking?” I shouldn’t ask, but the observations that rest on the tip of his tongue are damn near readable in his eyes.
“Nothing, really.” He shrugs.
He’s thinking how horrible it would be to live here.
He’s thanking his lucky stars that he doesn’t have to be one of us—the common people—anymore.
He’s regretting his decision to come up with me.
At least, I know that’s what I’d be thinking if I was used to flash five-star hotels and being waited on hand and foot.