2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

~ Heath ~

W hat the fuck was the problem with everyone these days? I watched the dancers leave the other night after my dumb ass phone call from my lawyer, and I still couldn't get over the fact that they wore makeup. It wasn't like they didn't know we weren't going to push things hard.

Okay, sure, I was a rock star, one wouldn't think I needed to wow the crowd with dancers, but I did. Because I liked my stage show to be entertaining.

To be real.

I wanted the crowd to leave thinking, going that was one hell of an experience . And no one in my crew or on my team knew that.It was the one part of my life where I allowed everything to be bigger, better, brighter than it was. It was fake. Other than my songs, everything I poured into those was real.

But sadly, that was it. Jameson was a product, an image. He wasn't the real me. And the life that became of that image wasn't me either. Sure, maybe when I started out, it was. But things changed early on. I saw more and more fakeness and dealt with it more and more, and it left me jaded. Fake did not belong in my life.

Ask my ex-girlfriend, who was still trying to get money off of me as if we were married!What horse shit was that? And now, thanks to that call, there was talk about a baby? Where did the lies and bullshit end?

With a sigh, I rubbed a hand over my face before placing my fingers back on the ivory keys in my recording room. No one was here but me. And I was on a deadline. I needed one more final album out for the record company before I could either sign a new contract, or I could walkaway.

Believe me, I had dreams of starting my own record company, but a lot of artists were doing that, and I didn't want to be part of the same mold.

However, like many times before, nothing was coming to mind. Or anything that did, sounded like shit to me. It's as if amuse needed to appear to give me inspiration.What I wouldn't give for a magic lamp or a fairy godmother to help me.

With a damn grunt, I pulled the lid over the piano and sat back. No use forcing it.

"Damn it," I muttered.

"Something wrong?" I turned around, glancing at the man who stood in the doorway.

"Kev."

"Nice to see you too, Heath." I rolled my eyes at my best friend who smirked in return. "Cat grabbing more than your tongue," he asked, nodding his head at the piano.

"When I found out about Lisa, did you know it's like everything left? The color in my life, the music I had bottled up, the damn taste of amazing food and great wine? Just all gone. Vanished.Poof. With a fucking goddamn lie that changed my outlook."

"You need to get laid." I cracked up at his simple comment. Kev Right had been my best friend since we were in middle school together. Beyond that, he was also my producer and my sounding board.

"I don't need to get laid. I have plenty of pussy floating around if I want it."

"So, find it," he said, slapping me on the shoulder. I wish sticking my dick in some random stranger did the trick, but it wasn't going to cut it. Lisa had done a number on me, and I hated to pay that piper. But the man was still calling since he wasn't getting his fucking money.

"You make life sound so easy, Kev."

"Look, man, I'm not going to say the shit she pulled wasn't fucked up, because it was.Going after you for money only, lying about who she was, what she was, where she came from, it's all scary. And I get she did shit to your head, but you didn't love her man. She was there, she was easy, she was your crutch. But she was never your muse." I stared at the man and nodded.

He was right.Lisa was a lot of things, but she was never special enough to be labeled as a muse. Not that anyone really ever was. It took an amazing unknown talent to light up one's soul like that. And so far, I hadn't found shit.

"So, are you going to sit at your piano all night and lament over the fact that you're finally getting dealt a shitty hand in life? Or do you want to take a chance and go grab a bite with me?"

"I've had shitty hands," I told him, shoving him as I stood up from the piano bench.He raised a brow, not buying that.Okay, I did mention that I've known this man forever, right? So, yeah, he might know my life story. "What the fuck ever," I mumbled, causing him to laugh.

"The gang is going to BeeAnn's and I told them I was dragging your sorry ass there.Let's go, old man." I wasn't sure if I was up to seeing the whole gang tonight.I mean, it wasn't like I was hiding, but I had things I wanted todo. Not that writing was going to happen, but sometimes just laying out on my back porch and staring up at the sky was prone to give me ideas for beats or rhythms.

"You're driving." He rolled his eyes as we walked out of my house and over to his sports car. Kevin was the king of finances and helped me with a shit ton of mine, so he was far from broke.

"You're the one with the new car," he countered as we climbed in. I shot him a look, not even commenting on that.

"Heath!" the table called out as I walked into the familiar pub. The drinks were cold, the food was actually decent, and the rotation of music that came in from either upcoming DJs or local artists was always pretty damn good, too.

"Hey all," I said, taking the seat next to Nicole, who reached over and hugged me.

"I'm glad Kev was able to bring you. It's been a bit since we've hung out with you. You doing okay?"

"As much as I can. You know how that woman was, a viper hiding in the bushes, and I just never saw it."Nicole gave me a sympathetic look while she took a sip of her beer. I might not have seen it, didn't mean that some of my closest friends didn't pick up on the vibes.

"One day Heath, I believe you'll find the one to put everything back in light again," she told me, patting my leg. I wanted to have faith in what she was saying, but it was hard, especially with all the bullshit I kept running into.

The backup dancer incident was just the final straw that set me off. I didn't mean to scream at the poor woman, but it was just the fucking last hit I could take. With a shake of my head, I flagged down the waitress, putting in an order for the house burger and a beer. I couldn't go wrong with that; it was always one of my favorites when we came here.

Twenty minutes later, working on my third beer, the burger appeared, and I breathed in deep, relishing the delicious aroma. The intense bacon smell, accompanied by the sweet tinge of the grape jam, had my mouth watering. The burger, when it first appeared, shocked the hell out of us. It had peanut butter, grape jam, bacon, and two burger patties on a potato roll. It was an unusual combo that had most people wrinkling their noses in disgust.

But it was a party in the mouth, in my opinion. The peanut butter wasn't tasted at all, and the salt within actually added to the jam, causing it to be less sweet, all mixing with the great taste of bacon. I was one of the few who only ever ordered it. But I was also one of the few people I knew who totally loved grape jelly on my sausage biscuits from restaurants.

Yup, I had unique taste buds, so, saying that food had no flavor to me because of the current shit going on in my life was very tragic. With a soft sigh, I cut my burger in half and took a big bite, groaning in frustration as the usual flavors didn't explode. Shit wasn't tasting right, and I was getting extremely frustrated.

Goddamn it, how hard was it to find something real to put me out of my misery? Even better yet, what the fuck did real even look like?