one close friend went through hell with a funeral once. For her own mother. I just respected her wishes. People can visit a memorial if they want. I wasn’t going to do something big if she didn’t want it.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “Just so you know too… Mitchy was cremated. We’re going to have some of his guitars on display and take a few pictures. Have a moment of silence for him. Nothing too big. I hate to sound like a total dick here, but this is mostly for the media. There’s a lot of stories about him coming out. They’re all true. But for his honor and memory we want to show everyone that he was still a part of the band.”
Bree touched my arm. “Is the fame worth it?”
“Sometimes it is,” I said.
“I’m sorry, Sab.”
“Yeah. Me too. We can be sorry together, right?”
“Always,” she said. “Can I have another sip of that coffee?”
“Didn’t you learn your lesson the other night?” I asked.
Bree took the cup and walked away from me.
“Careful,” I called out. “You’re going to get drunk and horny again. Do you not remember you begging me to strip you naked?”
Bree looked back and smiled. “Well… I’m only wearing this shirt. Shouldn’t be too hard then, right?”
She laughed and went back inside.
I felt my knees ready to buckle.
I finally crossed a line that was deadly.
My dick started to get rock hard.
I again pulled off the nice as a rock star can look look with my best-looking ripped jeans, a clean-ish t-shirt, and a black jacket that completed the look.
Bree wore a black dress that stole my breath.
When I asked her where she got that from, she said she packed it. She had no idea why she packed it, but she was glad she did.
I was glad too.
I gave myself a mental slap.
She was my friend. My best friend.
And I had been hitting the whiskey harder by the hour.
So it was the whiskey talking.
The whiskey was making my heart race. The whiskey was making my dick feel full when I was near her.
The good news was that a funeral service was a surefire way to kill off any sexual tension between Bree and I.
When we arrived at the cemetery to say goodbye to Mitchy, I grabbed Bree’s hand.
“I’m going to get out first,” I said. “You can follow after a few seconds. I just don’t want you to get blasted with pictures. And then have anyone question things or write something.”
Bree nodded.
I opened the door and slid out.
The people there had cameras but they kept their mouths shut.
Which was good.
I started to shut the door when I realized Bree was following me.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
Bree got out of the SUV and slipped her hand into mine.
“I’m here for you, Sab,” she said. “I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks or says.”
“You just want a piece of the fame,” I said.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I want,” she said as she rolled her eyes at me.
I squeezed her hand and met up with the rest of the band.
We were all dressed about the same.
The women were all in black dresses.
Liv came over to Bree and took her to their seats.
It was quite the sight to see.
Liv, Bree, Abby, Candice, and Wren.
I reminded myself that Bree didn’t live in LA. That she had a life somewhere else.
We walked toward a podium where a table with Mitchy’s urn rested.
It was kind of shocking to see.
Mitchy was such a pain in the ass for so many years. And now he fit into an urn.
I looked at the crowd in front of us and it was a very different feeling compared to being on stage.
There was a group of immediate friends and others. Toby. Executives from SLECK and other record companies we had worked with. There were a lot of people I didn’t know. Behind them were the paparazzi. They formed an arc shaped line, ready to record and take pictures. We figured let them come to this to get it out of their system so the show could be a little more private. Behind them were fans. They scattered themselves across the cemetery, holding up Filthy Line pictures and posters, signs for Mitchy, which left me so uneasy.
The actual notion of goodbye was right here in front of us.
I looked at Nash and nodded.
He stepped up to the microphone.
He reached into his pocket and took out a piece of paper.
“These are some notes I wrote down,” Nash said.