Novel Preview

Some of you know that on top of building my tattoo career and moving all over the place and general madness, I've also been writing a novel. It has been taking me forever because the story keep changing directions and points of view. Well I'm back on track so here is a preview of the first two chapters... be nice... there may be some grammar errors it is still being edited.

 

 

Emerald Eyes

 

Chapter 1:

There she stood. Out of context she was just a women of average size and looks with a taste for whiskey and ripped jeans. That’s where you would make a big mistake. Where she stood was just outside the Memorial Arena, against a wall, smoking a cigarette she didn’t even enjoy. Hiding in the shadows, away from any eyes. To her, no one was of significance to speak to anyways, none but one, but that was no one she planned to see tonight, or ever. Her face was hardly distinguished as it was hidden with an army style hat and long, wild, brown hair. Even in the heat of August she was wearing a fitted black hoodie, the hood pulled over the hat. Snug, faded jeans ripped at the knees and faded orange converse sneakers. She looked like some kind of skater bum from the 1990s. Once again, you’d be wrong. She was untouchable. A goddess of music. She was Kase, the lead singer and founder of the band BasketKase, the country if not the world’s most successful band of this generation. Her real name was Cassandra which is pretty metal in itself but you’d have a death wish if you called her that to her face. She was beautiful as she was mean. That wild brunette hair cascaded all the way to her hips silhouetting all her wonderful curves. She stood 5’7 which is about average but on the rare occasion she put on heels, she was an amazon queen. The eyes however, is what made the package complete. They were hazel, sometimes. Other times they would go green, but on a rare day, they’d go purple. Bitch just wasn’t human.

She was one of those beautiful people that didn’t know, nor believe she was beautiful. Didn’t help she would just play down her look in jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, and bandanas. Never on stage did she rock anything “mini” which was a shame cause she had legs for days. Thousands of Magazines had made offers to show her off, this including Playboy. No such luck. Kase outright refused to have anything to do with the media. No interviews, no contests, no posing in magazines, not even a meet and greet, which is where I come in. I had the impossible mission of getting the only interview ever given by Kase. Not only this, I had to get her to reveal her most intimate secret. Clearly I was suicidal.   

Maybe I should explain a little better. Kase and her band came out of nowhere, like a tornado.  Just one day the radio blew up with her single “Emerald Eyes” and bang instant hit and every song she’s touched since has turned to gold. Being she’s so secretive and such a mystery, only makes the desire to know about her that much stronger. Anyone that’s gets a story with her would be a journalist god. Unfortunately her bite is worse than her bark. Sure the rest of BasketKase was all over the news and tabloids and some information about her can be leaked out from them but the real good, nitty gritty…nothing. What we do know is she’s famous for throwing people off the tour bus in the middle of nowhere. Not very hopeful for someone trying to approach her. All I could do was stare at her from a distance as she sipped at a bottle of whiskey and diet, yes diet, coke, humming to herself. My luck, she has a knife in her shoe. It was like observing a lion at the zoo… except no cages.

“So how do we want to do this?” asked a raspy voice.

Every hair on my arm stood straight up. How long had she known I’d been there?

            “I saw you there for about 10 minutes or so” she responded as if reading my mind. Maybe she did.

“Sorry. You seemed like you didn’t want to be disturbed” I stumbled out.

“I don’t.” she snapped.

Stupid thing to say, she wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. I didn’t know how I was going to play this one out. I wasn’t really a man with a plan most of the time. Or, ever. That’s when I blurted it out.

“Well that’s not a big surprise, thanks for at least not throwing a bottle at me”

She looked at me in such a way that even though her face was pretty much all shadows, I winced. Why am I so stupid? Why don’t I have a filter? I should know better. She stepped into the light and our eyes met and I was trapped. Like Medusa, she’d turn me into stone. I was frozen in fear and awe. This was Kase of BasketKase after all. She was completely insane but she was also a rockstar.

“You. Are a very stupid, stupid boy. Too dumb to be press. Press is always polite and walking on eggshells and kissing ass, but you’re not just an idiot fan either. Just an idiot. Luckily for you I have a good buzz on, walk away before you ruin it and I ruin you.”

That wasn’t a lot of bullshit. I knew she was telling the truth. I was failing already, I had to do something, anything.

“I’m Dez and I’m from Rock and Soul Magazine”

Ugh. Anything but that.

“Wrong answer!” She hissed and started to storm off.

“I think you’re scared. This whole tough girl, anti-press thing. I think you’re just scared we’ll make you look bad. Then what would you do?”

I wanted to punch myself in the throat. What am I doing!? I was ready to call it a night when something strange happened. She turned around and walk up to me and stopped inches from my face. Her eyes were hazel tonight. She smelled of whiskey, cigarettes, and a familiar perfume I couldn’t place. She raised her hand up and braced myself for a blow (Yes she was a girl but she wasn’t just any girl) but instead she brushed her hand against the side of my face and entwined her fingers in my hair, pulling us closer. I was scared and turned on at the same time. Was this happening? She leaned in, lips to my ear.

“Is that was you think?” she whispered.

Before I could respond or react she pulled me by the hair and dragged me back into the arena and backstage. Everything just whirled by in flash and I couldn’t really see anyone.  My main focus was walking without falling as she led me through an obstacle course of amps and equipment and staff workers.

“Oh Christ, not again Kase. Come on!” called out a male voice

“Shut up Damon, you just worry about your drum solo that should occupy your mind for a while” Kase snapped back.

What again? As if answering my mind again, we abruptly stopped at a door on the far end of the area. Completely deserted of the rabble of the show action. Quickly she flew open the door and shoved me in. I tripped over a mop bucket and fell right on my ass and just looked up at her. She shoved a bottle of whiskey into my arms, don’t ask me from where.

“You got balls so I’ll make you a little deal.  Stay here and drink this entire bottle, every drop, by the time I’m done with my set and we’ll see what happens. The door won’t be locked, you can leave on your own free will at any time”

With that she gave an evil, cold smile and slammed the door shut. I was left in the dark with own decisions. I looked at the completely full bottle, this would probably kill me. Well, all or nothing I thought. I cracked open the bottle and let it pour down my throat.

Chapter 3:

“Bro? You dead?”

I felt something nudge my limp body. Was I dead?

“Shit Kase, I think you killed him” said the voice again.

“Don’t be fucking retarded, he’s breathing. Sort of” snapped the familiar voice of Kase

“Bottle is empty. I’m kind of impressed. Dude is a trooper” added a third voice.

That’s when the memories flooded back. Kase outside, Kase dragging me into a closet, whiskey bottle… I opened my eyes. The light pouring into the dark closet about blinded me and brought attention to the terrible pulsing in my head and I groaned.

“Fuck Kase, do you think this is funny?” came a forth voice.

“Well I didn’t think he’d actually do it! No one has before! He must really be touched in the head or something” Kase snapped again.

I slowly opened my eyes again, allowing them to adjust to the light and the audience facing me. Standing over me was the most successful band in the world. A surprised singer, amused bass and guitar players, and a pissed off drummer.

People would kill for the opportunity to meet them all in one shot and here I was laying in my own puke unable to make words. If I was at all there, I’d probably be embarrassed.

“God damn dude, you reek” chuckles Jeff, the lead guitar player.

Now I’m embarrassed.

Kase steps forward with an annoyed sigh.

“Well my plan was to just leave you here but Damon thinks I should give you a shot. You’ve been touched my an angel because normally we’re on the same page but apparently someone is going soft on me”

Well thank you Damon, I thought, though being I’d never met the guy I don’t know why he would take my side. He was the drummer of BasketKase and was even more low-key and mysterious than Kase.

“Yeah whatever Kase, I’m just saying we’ve been doing this for 10 year maybe it’s time. I got a good feeling about this kid, he’s not like most press. Might as well be him” Damon said.

He looked exhausted and was covered in sweat. They must have just gotten done with the show.

“So when he fucks us all over, I can fire you right?” grumbled Kase

Damon just sighed, rolled his eyes, and rubbed his temples.

“Yeah sure Kase, whatever”

Jeff burst out laughing and smacked his hands together which sounded like thunder in my ears.

“Well shit! This tour just got fucking fun!” he bellowed.

All I could do was groan.                                                                                             

Wait.

Tour?

Then everything went dark.