The Complete Rockstar Series

Rubbing a hand across the back of my neck, I mutter under my breath. “Bloody fucking hell.”

I really need to find Adam. He despises Lila and her psychotic bullshit nearly as much as I do. It takes me a while to spot him. I’m stopped by several label executives who want to introduce me to their spouses or make me promise to sign something for their kids who are such big fans.

When I finally do find him, Adam is outside, sitting across the pool on the furthest side from the house, alone with his mobile to his ear.

“Hey.” I drop into the chaise next to his. Adam turns his back to me, whispering into the phone.

What the hell? Has everyone lost their bloody minds tonight?

Adam disconnects the call almost immediately after I turn up, but makes no move to speak or turn around. I watch my best mate carefully, staring at his back…waiting. He’s all hunched over, shoulders rounded forward. His legs are spread wide with his elbows propped on his knees. Adam’s head of dark hair hangs down while one shaky hand rakes through it.

“Adam? You okay?” For a moment I wonder if he’s on the piss. He’s been doing really well the last few weeks, keeping sober, avoiding nameless slags. It would be difficult to see him backslide again.

Adam’s shoulders go up as he takes in a deep breath then they collapse in as he lets it out slowly. After what feels like ages, he turns his head so I can see his face. It’s blotchy and red and, I swear, I think he’s been crying.

“Fuck. What happened?” I jump to my feet, circling the chaise until I’m in front of him. “What the fuck, Adam? Who was on the phone just now? Did something happen to Ellie?”

My mate, who I’ve known for my entire life, who has had some really really shitty things happen to him in the past, has always tried to never let the pain show on his face. The man who’s always smiling, is honest-to-god fucking crying.

Hell, the only other time I’ve known him to shed a tear is when Kate told him about how he was smashed and he chased Ellie away at a party in L.A. a couple years back.

Adam doesn’t say a word. He simply wipes his eyes and leans back on the chaise, kicking his feet up onto the cushion. I watch, speechless, while he stares up into the night sky.

Unable to stand the tension, I throw back the rest of my beer and put the glass on a nearby table.

“Adam…?” I croak, afraid that perhaps Ellie has… No, she couldn’t be dead. He’d be headed straight for the bar to get rat-arsed if that were the case.

When he finally speaks, he carefully avoids any sort of eye contact. Instead choosing to stare out at the pool, the water lit up in the darkness.

“Life really sucks sometimes, yeah? I mean, you try to be a good person, try to do right by people, but shit just follows you around wherever you go.”

I’m not sure if I’m meant to answer or if it’s rhetorical, so I stay silent. This is how Adam’s brain works. It’s what makes him such a brilliant songwriter—his deep emotions, his caring soul, his heavy burdens. They clog up his mind, filling it with unwavering devotion to all things, both good and bad.

“Maybe good things aren’t meant to happen to good people,” he says despondently.

What on earth is he going on about?

“That’s not true. Look at us. We came from nothing—fuck, less than nothing—and here we are.” I hold my hands up, indicating the posh surroundings.

Adam turns towards me, his brows knitted together in a twisted grimace. “Yeah mate, look at us. You really think all this… this fucking shite is what makes us happy?” His voice is rising in volume, hostility radiating off of him. Adam gets to his feet, towering over my chair. “You’re no happier than I am! I’ve got bloody nothing, Dax! Nothing! And neither do you. We’ve both lost the only things that matter to us, and no amount of money will ever make up for it!”

He flips a nearby chair, sending it flying into a nearby flowerbed. Adam twists back towards me, his finger pointing accusingly. “You had it all, you bastard! You had what I fucked up and lost! And what did you do?” Adam’s lip curls up in disgust. “You tossed it in with the rubbish—tossed Kate as if she were nothing!”

I stand up to try and calm him down, but he explodes.

“Fuck this! Fuck everything! I can’t take it anymore! It’s nothing but fucking misery, every single fucking day!” Adam’s voice cracks as he chokes down a sob.

My arms reach out to grab his shoulders, to talk some sense into him. I have no bloody clue what this is about but I have to do something. Adam is self-destructing again.

He bats my hands away. “Don’t fucking try to tell me everything is okay you wanker, because it’s not!” he shouts. “You think pretending shit isn’t happening is going to make everything alright? How’s that working for you, Dax? Hmmm? Is bottling everything up making you fucking happy? Because I’m not seeing it! Your actions have consequences whether they affect you or not!”

I get in his face, good and angry now. “I have no bloody clue what’s got you so pissed! You haven’t told me what the hell you’re going on about! And leave me the fuck out of your crap! I’ll deal with my own shit however I want! It’s none of your concern. At least I’m not buried in booze and whores!”

His furious expression dissolves into utter despair. Lively hazel eyes turn glassy. “If you knew what you did, you’d want to…” he pauses, the fight draining out of him as if someone pulled the plug on a tub full of water. He swipes the back of his hand across his eyes. “Forget it. Fuck you. I need a fucking drink.”

Adam turns and storms off, leaving me shocked and gaping, my arms still reaching out towards where he was standing. I drop them to my sides and fall down back into a chair.

Not much gets Adam going like that. We haven’t had a proper row in a long time. I have no clue who he was talking to on the phone or what happened. I do