Hey Girl (Turn it Up #9)

Chapter 4

4

CHRIS

I touch down at London Heathrow and waste no time on my mission. I’m going to make this motherfucker fix what he did to me, for free, and I’m going to make him regret what he did for the rest of his stupid burly life. I try to rent a top-of-the-line crotch rocket, but none are available, so I have to settle for a ridiculous kitschy Vespa to get me from the airport to Foxton-on-Sea. No matter. I’ll just blast some renegade death metal in my earbuds to keep me in the vindictive mindset, it’ll be fine.

A few weeks ago, my buddy Leo teamed up with my assface bandmate Matt to pull a prank on me in the form of a monstrosity of a tattoo on my back.

Leo, the gifted tattoo artist that he is, drew my panther with perfect precision to my specifications, and it would look badass and beautiful, if it weren’t for its fucking head. Oh, and the added text above it that I didn’t ask for. Yes, I flew to the UK to have my tattoo fixed, this is why you don’t give stupid rockstars money.

Besides, this is personal.

I pull up to Wishbone Tattoos with a tiny screech of the scooter’s brakes and yank my helmet off, darting inside.

At reception, I greet the sweet and delightful Emily with a monster polar bear hug before taking brisk and deliberate strides towards Leo’s studio in the back. I kick open the door for effect, trying to come off intimidating, but without actually meaning to knock the thing off its hinges.

Oops.

“What the fuck?!” the Momoa-looking fucker looks up from his desk, his scarred eyebrow raised in a threating mask before he realizes who stands before him. “Chris! Mate, what in the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“I’ve come for justice,” I inform him, my voice low, my shoulders squared and pinning him with a menacing stare. “You scarred me permanently, and now the time has come for you to right your wrong, my friend.”

He waves his hand.

“Please, the Hello Kitty face washed off. You only walked around with a panther with a girly cartoon face for a few days, which was a hell of a lot of fun to watch, by the way! I couldn’t bring myself to tell you it was temporary!”

“Yes,” I concede between clenched teeth. “It did, in fact. But MATT’S BITCH FOR LIFE did not!”

“Oh, yeah…” His face falls in agreement. “That part’s permanent I’m afraid, but it’s easily changed to MATES AND BITCHES FOR LIFE. Or MATT’S A BITCH FOR LIFE. That’d be even easier, just one extra letter. And less dude bro-ish.” He waves a dismissive hand again.

“That still doesn’t change the fact that I,”—I yank off my leather jacket and jerk my t-shirt up over my head. “have been walking around the last few weeks—” I turn my back to him and point over my shoulder. “With a headless fucking panther crawling up my back!”

“Oh…yeah. Right. Well I suppose since you’re here, and since I didn’t have any appointments booked in this afternoon so I could do payroll for my hardworking staff who buy your merch every chance they get, I could fix that up.”

“Chris! Babe, I thought I heard your voice.” I hear a silvery angel voice speak, and look to my side where the beautiful, delightfully buxom Sadie has appeared. She throws herself at me and I wrap her in my arms in a hug, bare chested and all. Under the guise of picking her up and spinning her around, I turn us, so that her back is to Leo, and I give him a mischievous smirk.

That’s right, Dildo Baggins. Look who’s hugging me shirtless. The vivacious redhead you’re too pussy to admit your feelings for.

“Sadie, it’s so good to see you,” I tell her in a low, sexy voice to really stick it to him.

“What brings you here?” She asks, as she steps away.

“Well, I think it’s time your boss fixed the dumpster fire of a tattoo he put on my back.”

She grins. “Yeah, I heard about that.” She scowls playfully at their boss. “Bad boy.” The husky way she says it has me rocking a semi, so Leo must be in boner hell.

“Shut up, drummer boy!” a fuming Leo scolds as he stands, shifting in a way that lets me know I was right. “That tattoo is perfection. I only have to fix the head where Hello Kitty washed off!”

“Be that as it may,” I raise my chin. “I need a head on this panther, and might I ask the darling Sadie to sit in to make sure he doesn’t pull any fast ones?” I ask, turning to her with my sweetest, most pleading smile.

“Of course, mate. Happy to,” she agrees as steam starts to swelter off Leo’s head. “Just give me twenty minutes to finish off my last appointment.”

And for us to let the Sadie induced boner go down.

My head lolls to the side as I smile lazily like I’m getting a massage instead of a tattoo. The needle does vibrate, so there’s that, but admittedly a buzzing needle burning ink into my skin shouldn’t be so relaxing. I guess I’m just happy I can finally go to the beach without someone thinking I beheaded a defenseless black kitten and taped it to my back. Or maybe it’s the excitement of our new bomb ass branding…done by the insanely brilliant Rebecca. Who knew talent could be such a turn on? But it wasn’t just that. Her shyness was adorable, and it made me want to gather her up like Simba and present her to the rest of the world, before yanking her away and hogging her to myself. But then, there was the moxie she showed when I got her name wrong, unexpected and spunky and major league hot. She’s such a fascinating little bundle of contradictions.

And those eyes… beautifully green, but a different shade than mine. Rather than sea glass, as mine have been described, hers remind me of a meadow; one I could frolic in all day. They penetrated my soul as she looked right at me, telling me to call her Re - becc - ah!

We’d seriously make beautiful green-eyed babies. And between me being hyper and her being shy to the point of frozen in place, they’d probably even out to being perfectly social creatures.

Her hair was a light brown mane, and her glasses made her look adorable in a way that could easily shift to naughty if the wind was right. And when she walked past me off the elevator her scent was intoxicating; so clean and floral. If I close my eyes, I can smell it now…

Why I’m having these kinds of thoughts about our new graphic designer who seems determined for no one on the planet to give her a second look, let alone think of her like this, I don’t know. But who cares? I’m in my happy place right now, recalling her beautiful scent, imagining I’m burying my face in her neck as I breathe it in. We get lost in a sweet embrace that gets so intense, I can feel her nails trailing down my back.

Wow, she’s really digging in deep too. She must really want me. Yeah baby… I could get on this ride.

I pull away to take in her beautiful face again and her glossy lips part as she opens her mouth to speak.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Whoa. I do not remember her voice sounding like Bagheera from the Jungle Book. And what’s with that comment? Rude.

“Chris! What the fuck?” She asks again, more exasperated, still in the tuba-deep voice and it really jars me, making me jolt.

“What?” I snort awake and blink back the specks floating in front of my eyes as I realize I’m still face down on Leo’s table.

“Are you alright, fella?” Sadie asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just dozed off I guess.” I turn my head cautiously to the other side to gauge Leo’s reaction and, sure enough, that was his voice I was hearing in my little dream because his facial expression definitely screams, what the fuck?

“You fucked up my masterpiece,” he deadpans, holding the needle up by his side. Ohh, so that’s why her nails felt so sharp.

“Is it bad?”

He looks from me up to Sadie, eyebrows raised. “Pumpkin, would you mind going to see if we have any BLAST on hand? Clearly this poor bastard’s circuits are shorting out.”

“Hey! It’s just jetlag, I didn’t crash,” I chortle indignantly before my head swivels back to Sadie, “But a BLAST would be just amazing if it’s not too much trouble, Sadie baby.”

“Of course,” she gives me a warm nod before rising from her stool and I look back to find Leo rolling his eyes.

“How bad is it?” I ask.

“Not terrible,” he sighs, sounding frank. “But one of your panther’s whiskers is crooked. Makes him look a little psycho.”

“Sweet.”

He turns to refill his ink. “So what had you all mushy-gushy in your sleep just n-”

“Dude, I am crushing hard!” I snap my head up to answer the question that hadn’t fully made its way out of his mouth. “Her name is Rebecca and she’s so pretty and cute and weird and my brain is completely fixated on her and…just…gaaaaaah!”

It’s too easy to go off on a tangent about Rebecca, giving him the rundown of how we met with her and her amazing work, finishing, of course, with our elevator ride.

“Plenty of girls like that around,” Leo mumbles as he wipes away some excess ink. “What makes you all ga-ga over this one?”

“You know, I don’t know…” I answer truthfully. But this is currently my favorite fun brain teaser. “She’s nothing like me at all. She looked like she wanted nothing more than to live under a rock like a cute little hermit, but she was out and about, showing us her beautiful designs even though it was hard for her.”

“And?” Leo raises his sexy scarred eyebrow in playful challenge like we’re at a fucking slumber party.

“And … it felt good to slow my roll for a minute and be patient with her,” I feel my eyebrows slant towards each other as I contemplate this out loud. “And making her smile in the elevator was great. It made me want to find out more. She’s…interesting.”

“Whoa,” my buddy leans back in surprise.

“What?”

“You’re telling me you’re interested in a girl because she’s actually interesting?”

“As opposed to…?”

“Her ability to fill a bra to overflowing, drink you under the table, break your bedsprings, and not blink when you fly off the chandelier in nothing but your whipped cream speedo?”

I frown at him.

But he’s right. All my relationships have been superficial. I’m an unpredictable, loose cannon extremist, and my dating philosophy to this point has been if you can hang with me then we can hang together.

Tatiana fell nicely under that umbrella immediately when we met at a celebrity wrestling match for charity, and she twisted me up like a pretzel and ensnared me in the ropes. Who knew that crazy, hardcore lady wrestler had a soft side though? I never expect any of these ladies to get attached, let alone her. And unfortunately, her soft side quickly translated to unstable, obsessive, and vicious.

Rebecca, on the other hand, doesn’t look like she wants to get attached to anyone, which certainly takes the pressure off…but there’s more than that. Jack and Matt are both paired off; maybe it could be time for me to find out what the fuss is about. If I’m even capable of what they have. And Rebecca is the first woman to strike that chord of interest with me. Having a blast together is one thing. But seeing someone smile because of you?

Wow.

And how addictive to have that person be a smart and creative soul who has so much to offer. So much I could learn from her that doesn’t involve an adrenaline rush followed by a caffeine crash.

The more I think about her, the more I want to see her again and see what else I can find out, and what other happy reactions I can get out of her.

It’s settled. The moment I’m back, I’m getting in touch with her, and in a way that makes her think I’m great.

That’ll give me something to plot on the plane back to America.

Okay, so I couldn’t wait. I’m still in Leo’s studio as he lubes up my new tat when I pull up my beloved managers’ contact on my phone. Ron snorts as he picks up the line.

“Wudafukdowahnn,” he grumbles groggily.

Oops. Forgot about the time difference.

“Hey Ron,” I greet cheerily, leaning against the doorway of Leo’s studio while he places cellophane over my panther’s brand-new head. “I wanted to see if I could get the contact information for that graphic designer you set us up with -”

“No.”

“Come on.” I draw it out. “I just want to ask her a question.”

“Her contact info is on the paperwork. If I hear you sent her a dick pic or worse, you’re spending the next event in a non-swivel chair facing the corner.”

Gasp!

“I’ll be on my best behavior, Sir!” Seriously, though, he thinks I’d send any woman an unsolicited dick pic like a goddamn sex criminal? I think he and I need to have words. I’m not that much of a jackass.

“Meh,” is all I hear out of him before he hangs up.

Rebecca

Holy shit, I’m up late. But who cares, I’ve been clocking some great hours fueling up on confidence in the form of talking to people without hyperventilating or stuttering. And not only that but telling them what I really think.

Don’t worry, I only drop hard knowledge with immeasurable repressed snark to the people who are openly being assholes, and I take great joy from handing them their asses. It’s… uplifting.

Too bad it’s a temporary high that can’t follow me out my front door.

I’m in my favorite Reddit forum where people share their anecdotes of entitled family members, jealous partners, evil stepsiblings, and deadbeat in-laws, and have just left a hefty response on some dude’s post about how he’s thinking about breaking up with his fiancée because she’s been gaining weight.

I kept my response to two paragraphs, because that nitwit didn’t deserve any more of my brain power, but I might’ve told him he has the intellectual, spiritual and emotional depth of a Aquafina bottle cap and that he’s clearly marrying above his station because it’s obvious his fiancée has more important things to worry about than staying twiggy for his sorry ass. Like finding a better man, perhaps.

Of course, my brilliant tirade didn’t come without its fair share of residual response comments trickling in. It always does. The best part is when they actually seek me out in my DMs because they’re too pussy to call me out in the thread.

Prittybrit03: You are ALWAYS on this forum. Do you seriously have nothing better to do, you troll?

That would normally sting, except I do plenty with my life and only spend so much time online because I use it in place of actually socializing.

Truthinator99: If you want to cross my bridge you must answer three riddles.

Prittybrit03: What? I have no idea what that means.

Truthinator99: I thought not, brainiac. Come back when you actually know a thing or two about trolls. PS, how do you know I’m always on here? Maybe because YOU are?

Daddyluvsya88: Want to be my sugar baby?

Truthinator99: Sure. How much money are we talking? And what do I have to do? My other sugar daddy pays me 5k a week, so you’re going to have to turn up. And I don’t do in person visits. And if you ask for a boob shot you’re going to have to show me yours first. If I decide they are satisfactory, then you have a deal. What’s your name?

Daddyluvsya88: …

Thought so.

BigJR95: You know you talk a tough game, but I bet you’re really some feeble little nobody that has to come on the internet to feel big.

Ouch. Okay, felt that one.

Truthinator99: Oooh, you hit me RIGHT WHERE I DON’T GIVE A FUCK there, son. PS, you’re doing the EXACT SAME THING RIGHT NOW, so check yourself, BITCH!

Bahahahahaha!

An email notification pops up in my lower right corner and I click on it to see who’s insane enough to send messages at this time of night.

Chris Bam-Bam Richards: Hey Mouse, guess who??

What the fuck?

Chris Bam-Bam Richards?

Like Chris the drummer? Bam-Bam. Oh my God, it has to be. Blue checkmark and all.

Chris Bam-Bam Richards: I’m with my friend Leo here and have been telling him how hard I’m crushing on you.

Nevermind. Definitely an imposter.

Rebecca Randall: Nice try, ass monkey.

Chris Bam-Bam Richards: And he told me I should ask you out.

Wait, what?

Rebecca Randall: Whoever you are, find a different hobby than impersonating hot celebrity drummers online.

Chris Bam-Bam Richards: So you DO think I’m hot. How very, very interesting

Shit.

Rebecca Randall: No, Chris Richards is hot. But YOU are most likely some homely bastard that gets his pebbles off to pretending to be a lickable drummer and toy with random, unsuspecting strangers online.

Chris Bam-Bam Richards: Get my Pebbles off? I see what you did there, Wilma. And I’m LICKABLE now? Woo-hoo!

Fuckbuckets!

Chris Bam-Bam Richards: Now I HAVE to ask you to be my girlfriend.

Say what?

Rebecca Randall: Are you shitting me?

Chris Bam-Bam Richards: Is that a yes??

Rebecca Randall: NO.

I slam my laptop lid shut as if to keep him from slithering out of cyberspace to materialize in the real world. Right. I think that’s enough online debauchery for one night. Whoever that internet poser is, I’m free of him until the next time I open my computer.