Ozzy

I SLAM BACK another shot of whiskey. Why did McKenna have to look so fucking fantastic yesterday? Her outfit was super funky, yet no one else on earth could pull it off but her. And all I wanted to do was rip it off of her and make her scream my name.

But I didn’t.

And she didn’t.

Despite everything, I’m proud she won. All her hard work paid off. Too bad that’s all you were to her—work.

Thankfully, last night was dark. I was so drunk off my ass I wouldn’t have been able to perform anyway. Partied with the women I took to the Big Reveal but wasn’t in any shape to fuck them. I sent them home and went to the Penthouse to sleep it off.

Good thing the bar is always stocked here. I eye another shot, and glace at the clock. My concert’s several hours from now. I toss it back and collapse onto the sofa.

Knocking on the door wakes me. I stroll over to it and look through the peephole. Opening the door for my PA, I mumble, “Hey.”

“Hi there. I’ve been looking all over for you. Took care of Bans.”

How could I have forgotten about my dog? “Thanks, man.” I make my way to the bar and hold up a glass. “Whiskey?”

“No, thanks.”

Aiden watches as I pour myself another and do the shot, his eyes boring into me. “What? It’s only a shot.” I won’t tell him about the others.

“I wanted to let you know Ginger called again about your album. I told her you’re working on it with the band.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“She’s stopping by your place tomorrow for a sampling.”

Her demand doesn’t shock me. I pour another shot and, fingering the rim, reply, “Fine. The songs are good. I’m sure Platinum will be happy.”

“That’s good news.” He steps up to the bar, tapping his lip. “Why don’t you go down to your dressing room to get ready for tonight’s show? It starts in an hour.”

Where did all the time go? I grab the shot and do it, using my fingers to wipe my mouth. “K, let’s go.”

An hour later, I’m waiting for my cue. The music flows around me but it’s as if I’m not a part of it. I shake my head to rid all thoughts of her and step onto the platform that lifts me onto the stage. The swell of the audience raises me higher and higher throughout the night. Who needs one woman when you can have the adoration of thousands every night?

I forget the lines to a song, but then cover up my flub by holding the mic out to the audience, which supplies them for me. Close call, but maybe I’ll add it into my routine. When Jazz asks if we’re going to do ‘Take Me’ tonight, I tell him no. I can’t do anything new right now.

The concert ends and we all head backstage. I avoid going to my dressing room, instead heading straight for the afterparty.

Tim bumps my shoulder. “What’s up? You were off tonight.”

“Sorry. Shit on my mind.” Time to deflect. I look around. “Any hot chicks in here tonight?

“Aren’t there always? It’s Vegas, baby.” He grabs a beer and hands one to me.

Walking over to a group of women, I start chatting up a redhead. Her hair reminds me of the time McKenna dyed some of her locks the same exact color, so I move on to a blonde. No—she’s the same exact height as McKenna. After talking with several women, all falling short of the bar set by McKenna, I decide to head home. Alone.

Hopping on Shirley, I race down the Strip, cutting some cars off, feeling reckless. All too soon, I find myself on a residential street. A familiar Honda is parked in a driveway. The lights are off inside the house. Is she with him in the bedroom I’ve never seen? I gun the engine and scream down the street. Why did I come here anyway?

Johnnie Walker is my preferred companion tonight.

THE NEXT MORNING, I wake with an awful headache. “Having too many whiskeys will do that to you,” I mutter as I dive into the pool. The cool water slaps me upside the head, and I punish my body with an hourlong swim.

Finished, I hop onto the patio, my eyes drawn toward the gate. Of course, McKenna’s not there. She never will be again.

After toweling off, I shower and get ready for my meeting with Ginger. It’s now or never for the songs, all of which have McKenna’s imprint on them in some way. Shaking my head as if that would make all visions of her fall out of it, I slip the button through the final hole on my shirt and secure my belt. The doorbell rings and I head for the front door.

Opening it, I welcome Aiden and Ginger into the house. “Would you like a drink? Iced tea or something stronger?” My stomach revolts at the thought of adding more alcohol to it, so I go with the iced tea.

Handing the same to Aiden and a water to Ginger, I escort us outside, picking up the music and my guitar on the way. Once we’re all seated at the patio table, Ginger asks, “How many songs do you have for me today?”

“Four are done, and another five are in different stages of completion, but all are ready for you.”

She inclines her head and goes over the sheet music for the new songs. After giving some suggested changes and listening to what we recorded, the two go back and forth about logistics and recording time in LA next month. I’m content to let Aiden carry this meeting. While I’m proud of my new songs, this whole process feels like a farce somehow. Actually, more like hollow.

Ginger turns to me. “This is quite the body of work you created. I love the new vibe. Different. And your lyrics are much more evolved.” She huffs out a strangled laugh. “Here I was worried Luis was the real talent.”

I had wondered the same thing for a long time, but Luis was more of a crutch. We were good together before Platinum came knocking. Now I realize, though, that he smothered my creativity. Writing these songs was more freeing. More me. “These songs better represent me. Plus, I did have help from my band. They’re a great group of guys.”

“Do you want to stay together for this next album?”

Nodding, I answer, “I do. They need to be listed as co-collaborators because we’ve been tweaking what I wrote. And I want to tour with them, assuming they’re okay with leaving Vegas.” I never asked them if they’d go on tour with me, but since we’re all single, I doubt there would be an issue.

Ginger scribbles some notes down on her pad. “We’ll make it happen.” Standing, she gathers her papers. “We’ve been at this for three hours and I have to head back to LA.” She places her hand on my shoulder. “Keep up the great work. I’ll schedule more recording time for you in LA in mid-January.” She looks at Aiden. “I’ll let you know the exact dates.”

I should be more excited. Yet, I’m empty. “Sounds good. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Returning to the patio, I drop down into the chair next to Aiden. “Your album is hot AF. You’re going to rule the airwaves.”

I take a sip of my remaining iced tea. “I hope so. I need to pay the mortgage.”

He laughs. “I’m pretty sure you don’t have to worry about that.” Bans runs through her doggie door and drops a drool-covered ball at his feet. Without flinching, he picks it up and throws it to the far end of the yard. “So, McKenna’s really history, huh?”

The unexpected mention of her name halts my hand from returning my glass to the table. “Yeah,” comes out in a strangled tone.

Bans barks and he tosses the ball again. “Too bad. I liked her.”

“Boy, can I pick them. She was just like Teresa. All women are the same.”

He places his glass down with a thud. “No way? I didn’t get that vibe off of her. She seemed so real.”

Running my fingers through my hair, I watch Bans as she scampers back to us, ball in her mouth. Snapping my fingers, she alters course and brings her toy to me. Throwing it in a different direction, I reply, “I thought she was.”

Silence, except for an occasional bark from Bans, descends on the backyard. After two more throws, Aiden stands. “I’ve got some errands to take care of for you before the concert tonight. I’ll see you at the Jade in a couple.”

“Sounds good.”

He lets himself out, leaving me alone with sheet music that tells the story of falling in love. I pick up my pencil and start crossing out some lyrics. What do I know about love anyway?