HARLEY

I opened the pack of paper, pulled one out and poured some of the dry leaves into the middle before rolling it up tightly and licking it closed. Twisting the ends to keep everything in place, I smiled at the fat little blunt I’d created. This was what made me happy after a night at the club.

My hard-earned cash was lying strewn across the coffee table. Men. Such dumbasses. They were so easily manipulated by a pretty pussy and they didn’t even realize it. They thought they were in control. Think again, my friends, think again.

After Tony had provided me with an escape route, he’d spent some time getting Ron in line. If Ron started forcing us girls to give blow jobs again, we’d be shut down in no time. Far too many paparazzi frequented this place, trying to get glimpses of the rich and famous.

Relaxation came as I threw my head back and exhaled large smoke rings. It certainly wasn’t my first joint of the night, but it would probably be my last. I was already half asleep. I chugged back another bottle of water as I flipped the channels on the tv and took another long drag off the end of my fat little friend.

Tonight had been a real trip. Although Ron had been a dick as usual, the highlight of the evening had been that guitar player. His hat and the shadows of the club had hidden his face, but that body couldn’t be missed. That drop-dead gorgeous hunk of a man with the talented fingers. I wondered what else he could do with those fingers… I shook off the thought. He was probably just another sleaze ball with cash. It was easy to remember who these guys were when they were fifty years old and balding. But when it was a guy that looked to be around my age and he was a hottie, well, those guys were definitely harder.

I was dying to call my best friend Aria and share, but that was the thing with our schedules. They were rarely in sync. As much as I was itching to tell her about the random super-hot guitarist, Aria would be sleeping at four o’clock in the morning and would definitely not appreciate me calling. My girl Aria was a dancer. A real one. She didn’t take her clothes off for money and pretend it was dancing, no she was a trained professional who worked at a supper club and was constantly auditioning for music videos and Broadway style shows.

I’d met Aria during one of my attempts at having a “normal” job. It was a coffee shop about two years ago. Sadly, I was no barista. I didn’t last long there, but our friendship sure did. Aria had also come from a rough background and needed a friend in LA to know the ropes. I was more than happy to oblige. Being alone in LA was difficult, and everyone someone, especially in those first few months. It didn’t take long for things between us to blossom from a simple work acquaintance to best friend status. Aria was everything I wanted to be. Classy, beautiful, intelligent and driven to succeed. I didn’t have any of those qualities, but I damn sure admired them in her.

I knew she thought I was crazy for wanting to strip. When we exchanged stories and hers was much worse than mine, granted, I never told her why I left home. For all she knew, I was a bratty kid from a happy middle-class home who just didn’t give a shit. I didn’t mind, though; I preferred it that way. No need to bring up the past.

But damn, it would be hard to wait to tell her about the hot guitarist who played like one of my favourite bands. I’d seen Desolation Sound in concert three times now and I’d listened to their albums on repeat since the day they started. Tonight at the club, that guy could have been one of them. Granted, I couldn’t get a good look at him from the stage, but I had perfect pitch from years of piano training and I knew that guy was good. No, he was fucking awesome. And every note he played sounded just like Ace Novak -lead guitarist of Desolation Sound.

I smiled to myself as the high began to hit me. Imagine it had been Ace? Watching me dance as he played? Wow… I giggled at my little fantasy.

Sleep knocked on the door of my brain. My eyes fluttered, and the TV faded away. I’d call Aria tomorrow and tell her. I’d just have to catch her before she went into rehearsals.

Rolling over on my side, I stuffed a pillow under my head. No need to go to bed. When you live alone and get stoned on your couch at 4am, you just fucking stay there. I’d deal with life tomorrow.

***

I woke to the sound of my alarm clock beeping like a goddamn fire engine. Fuck! Turn it off! Would someone turn the damn thing off?!

Kicking off the blankets, I slid out from my warm cocoon and stumbled across the room to the blaring alarm on the dresser. I’d learned a long time ago that keeping my alarm next to the bed was useless. I could slap it in my sleep and never actually get out of bed. After numerous times doing that, I now placed it on the dresser, forcing myself to get up and out.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I slowly took in the surrounding scene. My room was a disaster as usual and I was very unclear about how I’d even gotten in to my bed. I remembered falling asleep on the couch last night, but I guess at some point I’d found my way to the bed. What I hadn’t found, though, was water. My mouth was as dry as the Sahara. My hands skimmed the dresser, shoving clothing and makeup off the top as I searched for a cup. Noticing my fingers looked black, I held my hand up to the sunshine that was peeking through the blinds. Mascara. I rubbed my eyes again, even worse than before. Guess I never took off my makeup either last night.

Today was Sunday, and Aria and I had brunch scheduled, so I needed to get my shit together. Aria was never late, especially not for our Sunday standing date brunch. I needed to hustle. I smiled. It would be good to see my girl. And damn, was I excited to tell her about last night.

Making my way back to the bathroom, I opened the tap and let the water run free to warm up as I stepped out of my t-shirt and shorts from the night before. My hair smelled like cigarettes from the club and my entire body felt dehydrated and groggy. A hot shower was just what I needed.

Standing under the stream, I let my mind wander as I relaxed. What if that was Desolation Sound last night at the club? Wouldn’t that be crazy? The guitarist was so freaking good that he could have been Ace Novak. I laughed at myself. If it had been, for sure I would have tried to get their autographs. And I wouldn’t have been the only one. Hence why it couldn’t have been him or the actual band. I’m sure they wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like that.

I lathered up my hair, adding a purple conditioner to enhance my blonde a little more. I’d always had natural blonde hair. Actually, it had been almost white as a kid thanks to my half Irish & half Scandinavian background. However, age was darkening it and a little extra help regularly never hurt. I made a mental note to get my highlights redone. Just the roots though, I was enjoying rocking the pink tips.

After I dried off and applied my makeup, I rifled through the clothes strewn across my apartment as I searched for the right outfit. I needed something that said relaxed and weekend but still cute.

Just then, I heard a key in the lock.

“Hello?!” called Aria as she let herself in. We both had keys to each other’s places just in case of emergencies, however, we tended to use them like we lived there.

“Hey girl!” I called back. “I’m back here looking for clothes!”

“Jesus, Harley!” Aria commented when she walked in and saw me in my underwear. “You look hot, girl, but you’re going to need more than that if you want to be allowed inside the restaurant.”

Aria, of course, looked perfect in a flowing yellow maxi dress, a denim jacket and over-sized shades.

“Yeah, I know.” I mumbled, still rifling through a pile of clothes. “I’m trying here, okay? You look beautiful, as always.” I muttered, motioning to her dress.

She smiled. “Thanks, babe.”

I groaned. It was too much. I couldn’t find anything. “Will you kill me if I just wear shorts and a t-shirt? I’m really not in the mood to dress up.”

Aria shook her head. “You know… if you would just cleanup sometimes then you’d be able to find things but yeah I don’t care, wear what you want.” She shrugged as she walked back out. “Waiting for you outside,” she chirped happily. “The sun is shining. Let’s go!”

Rolling my eyes at her, I reached for ripped denim shorts and my Nirvana tee. My best friend was such a morning person. It was horrendously irritating.