A FILTHY Enemy - Jaxson Kidman Page 0,7

tits,” Jay said. “Yeah, I’d hang there…”

“Of course you would,” Nash said.

“Hey, bro,” Sab said to Jay. “Imagine if they got the women to squirt milk into the Frappuccino…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Nash asked.

“There’s women who can produce milk all the time,” Sab said. “It’s a true thing.”

“Wow,” Nash said.

“Don’t be jealous, bro,” Jay said. “Does Liv squirt milk?”

“If you ever ask if Liv squirts anything ever again, I’ll throw you off this roof,” Nash said.

He stood up and walked away.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess he’s not a fan of milk.”

“Maybe he’s lactose intolerant,” Dex said.

“Not me,” Jay said. He squeezed the air with his hands and laughed.

“Are we going to ever talk about those new songs or what?” Dex asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s a big project if we go that way. You’re talking bringing in other players and shit.”

“Which isn’t a bad thing,” Sab said. “We can always use someone to jam on piano. Right?”

We all went silent.

The piano-slash-keyboard position had been a shitty thing for FILTHY LINE.

We were still dealing with the legal bullshit from Mitchy.

He was supposed to be our goddamn brother and he turned out to be…

Whatever.

Then there was Linx.

What a kick-ass musician he was.

We would have given him anything he wanted for him to hang around.

But it just didn’t work out that way.

I looked over at Nash.

I wasn’t sure if it was him getting older in life or settling down with Liv.

All of a sudden, he had a vision for the band to have bigger songs.

We were still rock stars and always would be.

But he wants to write a song or two for the ages…

A song or two that would be played at weddings, during sad movies, that kind of shit. He wanted to let everything bleed out and see what would happen.

That meant someone on piano. String players. Backup singers.

I wasn’t a fan of going from a five-piece rock band to eight or ten people for one song.

At the same time… I understood it.

We were the biggest rock band in the world. Fighting side by side with those asshole pricks called RAUNCHY RECKS.

That meant doing a little bit of everything. Without sacrificing who we were.

“Fuck, I need a drink,” Sab said.

“I need to fuck someone,” Jay said.

“What about Reed?” Dex asked.

“What about me?” I asked.

“What do you need?” Jay asked.

“All of the above… times three.”

My rock star palace wasn’t up in the hills. It didn’t overlook the city. It wasn’t that kind of place for me. Not that I would shit on the guys who lived up there. That was the dream. When we were walking the streets at four in the morning, talking about all the shows we were going to play, we’d look for those houses. We’d look for one of them with the lights still on, knowing someone famous was up there having a party. Some actor or actress. Some musician. Some recording executive. And they were just living it up.

When the time came for me to use some of my filthy money, I bought a house just outside the city. With a ton of land. A place where we could get ourselves into a different kind of trouble. That meant building the biggest garage I had ever seen in my life and stocking it full of toys. Dirt bikes. Quads. Everything possible with an engine, at least one wheel, and the risk of death.

The outside of the house was pure white with the darkest windows I could have.

The inside bled pure rock ‘n’ roll freedom.

There was always someone in the house.

Cooking, cleaning, taking care of things.

The only true rooms I had that were mine to be in alone was the master bedroom and the recording studio.

The studio was a second garage I had built.

It had a second-floor loft area with a full bathroom and bedroom.

Up there, at the right angle, on a mostly clear night, you could see the lights of the city.

I sat behind a piano with Nash standing there with a notebook, jotting down lyrics.

Jay was on a barstool with a guitar hooked up to a small amp with the reverb as high as it could go.

Dex and Sab each had acoustic guitars, just strumming the basic chords of what I was messing with on the piano.

There was a vision to this song.

I knew what Nash wanted to do.

We had written so many songs and albums… we had played for millions of people across the world… and now there was a sense