A Filthy Christmas (Filthy Line #6) - Jaxson Kidman Page 0,3

of a band.”

“Wow,” she said.

“See you around, no name beauty.”

“Beauty, huh? Even with what you just said?”

“Hey, beauty. I’m filthy, right? I’m a rock star, right? The thought of you between the sheets… I don’t mind sharing.”

“Get the fuck away from me,” she said.

“You’re the one holding my arm.”

She released her grip and backed away.

“Hey,” she called out as the door started to shut.

I kicked my foot back to stop the door and looked over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Lita. My name is Lita.”

I nodded.

Then I let the door shut.

I walked toward the elevator and laughed to myself.

“Hello, Lita.”

“Smoke break ended five minutes ago, pal.”

I looked at the guy in the suit and smiled.

He was short. Skinny. His suit too big for him. His thinning black hair slicked back. He looked like he belonged as the scammy pretend bad guy in a movie.

He pointed at me.

“We’re paying you to be here.”

“And here I am,” I said.

“Late. I don’t do late.”

“We’re not writing a classic tune here, man,” I said. “Calm the fuck down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he said. “Do you know who I am?”

“You’re Jerry Jerkoff…”

“Jenkins!” he growled. “I turn people into stars. Got that? I take good singers and put them on stage in front of forty thousand and make them rich and famous. What have you ever done?”

I nodded. “Do you want to argue or do you want me to play guitar?”

“Take the fucking needle out of your arm,” Jerry said. “Or else you won’t get paid for today.”

“Damn,” I said. “No cash means no hookers and heroin.”

“Fuck you, pal,” Jerry said.

I laughed and walked into the studio and grabbed the guitar they made me play. The thing had so many effects hooked up to it, anyone could have played the damn thing. My job was to put down fifteen tracks.

That’s right.

Fifteen tracks for one song.

Why?

Because the song and singers sucked that bad. They needed the extra sound to carry their shit voices.

Before I put the guitar around my neck, I heard Jerry talking.

“This guy is a loser,” he said. “This is the kind of guy you cross your fingers and hope he injects too much at once, you know? Let the cops find him dead in an alley.”

Jerry didn’t realize I could hear him.

I then held the guitar with one hand.

“Either way, don’t pay him,” Jerry said. “Tell him there’s a processing error. Okay? Fuck this guy. Nobody talks to me the way he just did. You don’t get away with that.”

I let out a whistle.

Jerry whipped his head around.

Without hesitation, I threw the guitar at the glass.

There were screams and I just smiled.

I sat down on the amp and lit a cigarette.

Jerry came barreling into the studio, his face apple red.

“Are you fucking insane?” he screamed at me. “You’ll never work again. I’ll make every fucking call I can.”

I stood up and took a drag off the cigarette.

“If only your dick was half the size of your attitude,” I said.

“You want to see my dick? I’ll show you my dick right now!”

Jerry stepped back and touched the pants of his suit.

I looked around the studio.

The four piece band with skinny clothes and goddamn parrot looking haircuts were in shock.

“Get your magnifying glasses out,” I said. I looked back at the band. “And you four. Get that fucking hair gel shit out of your hair and learn how to write a song.”

“Don’t you dare walk out of this studio,” Jerry said. “I’ll… I’ll call the police!”

“For what? The case of your missing dick? Can’t find something you never had.”

“My dick is fine!” Jerry yelled.

I walked out of the studio.

I shouldn’t have done what I just did. That was a big problem. A really big problem. Also, it was a dumb decision. A really dumb decision.

I walked out of the studio and looked up and down the hallway.

Jerry was still yelling. Claiming he was calling everyone. Even the Pope.

I smoked my cigarette in the hallway and thought about what was next.

I made it three steps before two guys appeared at the end of the hallway to block me.

For a split second I thought it was security.

It wasn’t.

It was Jay and Sab from the band Filthy Line.

“What’s up?” I asked with a head nod.

“Is it true what you just did?” Sab asked.

“What?” I asked. “How the fuck…”

“Just answer the question,” Jay said.

“Yeah, it’s true,” I said. “Why?”

Sab grabbed my shoulder. “You need to come talk to us… right now.”

2

LITA

“Piece of shit,” I whispered as I looked at my phone.

I