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Too Many Rock Stars: Violet's Story (Access All Areas 1)

Page 63

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"Dazza don't know shit.”

I rushed forward.

“Do you have to go?” I asked. Words tumbled from me in a rush. Not the words I wanted to say but other words.

“Put it off for just one day, please. That’s all I ask. You can have it all. I’ll declare you the winner. You can date me. If you still want to. Whatever you want. But please, please play at the club tonight. Just one night. Please, Razer.”

I glanced up at him but he didn’t meet my eyes. He was going to say no. Of course he was going to say no. In my mind, he smiled, dimples flaring, as he told me he’d play but reality never worked that way.

“Is that what you really want?” he asked. “To save the club?”

I hesitated. The old man’s TV set buzzed loudly from his apartment. Down the hallway, a kid screamed. I stared down at the puke green carpet hoping to find my answer there. For once, I couldn’t meet Razer’s gaze.

What did I want? I wasn’t even sure myself. I didn’t want Razer to leave but I couldn’t blurt out something so selfish, especially as I had no idea what I could offer him. Sure, he’d flirted with me and sure, he’d made it pretty damn clear he wanted to be with me, but did he want it enough to turn down an opportunity of a lifetime? Even if he wanted that, I couldn’t let him.

“Of course,” I said. “That club is my life.”

“I won’t let you date me just to save the club.” Razer shook his head. “If you think I want you that way, you don’t know me at all.”

A date with me stacked up against a chance to play with an internationally famous band, I’d never win. E

ven when it was a date with me stacked up against arriving a day late, I couldn’t compare.

I’d told Razer so many times he wasn’t ambitious enough and now that come back to bite me on the ass.

If he gave me some sign, some sign at all, but he just stared at me. I guess he’d said it. He wouldn’t date me to save the club.

I’d been a fool. Instead of making things better, I’d ruined everything. Razer hated me and the club would end anyway. I had nothing left to say.

Razer called my name as I rushed down the stairs but I didn’t look back.

Chapter 37 VIOLET

I DIDN’T GO STRAIGHT back to Trouble. It might’ve been weak of me but I didn’t want to face everyone, not after failing.

I’d lied. I’d lied to Razer when I told him I wanted him to play for the sake of saving the club. I wandered along the river, letting self-pity flood me.

If I’d been able to bring myself to tell him how I felt, that I needed, he might’ve stayed. It wasn’t about the club, it was about me.

Even before tonight, those things I'd said to him, that we didn't belong together, that we weren't right for each other had all been lies. I’d known that at the time. I'd been so scared of what would happen if I let him into my life that I'd destroyed things before they could even start. All I had was a crumbling pile of shit.

A cold wind blew around me. I had to go back. I couldn’t run away forever.

When I got back to the club, downstairs was empty. The crowd had cleared out. I figured Carlie must've told them to go home. I kicked a can someone had left sitting on the floor and stumbled toward my office.

I'd lost it all – the fight to save the club, Razer, and any chance I had for happiness. I didn't even want to think about my future. I might as well go to my office and pack up my stuff and go home.

Sure, I couldn't help that Razer got an offer he couldn't refuse but I'd failed at being true to myself and that was the hardest thing to take. I’d wanted to save everyone and, in the process, had agreed to all Chuck’s stupid conditions only to have him screw me over in the end.

Carlie hadn’t gone upstairs to work, obviously because the night had been canceled. Jackson still sat in his corner and a few other regulars lingered but I kept my head down. I didn't want to talk to anyone or even meet their eyes. I just wanted to be alone to lick my wounds. I'd sulk and maybe cry a little. I didn’t want company for that, I'd do it all alone in my crummy flat. Maybe I could buy a bottle of whiskey and a bucket of ice-cream. One or the other might make me feel better but I doubted it.

Damn Razer, he haunted me. I could've sworn I could smell the scent of him lingering in the bar. I guess he spent enough time there that it'd seeped into the walls. It seemed to even override the stale beer and Drew-sweat smells.

“Are you looking for me?”

I spun around. Razer?

What the hell was he doing in the club and not on a plane to fame and glory?



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