Know Me (Truthful Lies Trilogy - Book One) (32 page)

It brings out the
dark in a person,
Błażej...

I tell my brain lots of things.
But the fucking bastard never
listens.

And I hate to freaking admit it, but my
heart’s the one talking to me now. It’s downright bleeding for
him.

I don’t know why.

I don’t wanna know why.

All I know is I need him. Because I’ve
only felt this way once before for someone. Not a boy. A sister.
And she was gone by the time I realized it.

And Deck’s not gone. Not like she
is.

I get up and grab my phone. When I see his
message—the one asking if I’d like to go for breakfast—it’s like a
needle to the heart.

The lost breakfast. The missed hug. The
never again attainable time of the past.

Gone
. Forever.

I text him back:

Blaze
: I’m sorry. I’ll do better next
time. Just...getting used to this whole “letting someone in”
stuff
.

I don’t care if it’s blunt. In fact, I
don’t think it’s blunt enough.

Deck: Bet you my closet’s
fuller than yours. Meet tonight again? We’re all counting on
you
to
recommend a place with some decent music.

It’s a watershed of relief. I only realize
I’m shaking when my legs
give way and drop me to my bed.

Because I just can’t help it, I go online
and check out the forums to see what’s being said about me. I don’t
know if I
prefer that
nothing’s being said, or that crap was once being said.

My MySpace plays are still higher than
usual, but they’re also dying.

Dying with the buzz.

And what do I have, really? I have one
great gig that I did. Although that gig did give me a pretty
decent—he used the word first—
boyfriend
. I smile at that thought.

But it’s also woken up sleeping dogs:
Tolek. Xavier.

And put some fresh dogs on my tail. Wild
dogs.

Wild dog
s that I, apparently, have to follow in order to
make it at all. And hell knows I’m desperate to make it.

Maybe they smelled that,
like
all
dogs smell fear
. And
maybe they capitalized on it. Maybe, as we sat at that round table
surrounded by red lights and whips and cages in
Sacrament
’s underground temple to all that’s
decadent, maybe they saw that in me.

And exploited it.

Assholes
.

I pull up my calendar and check out the
gigs I have planned.
Two
more this month—two hundred bucks each, and as artistically
stimulating as a Q-Tip. The first one is on Saturday, two days from
now. The other, the week after, on a Friday. That’ll be a
double-whammy weekend. My own Friday gig, and then the
make-or-break gig on Saturday at
Sacrament
. I have four more for the middle of February. All
Double-Whammies. Three hundred each except for the last one, which
is a whopping hundred and fifty.

Yeah, desperate times.

They’re right
, I realize. “I need them to get into the
biz,” I say out loud. And then, arguing his point of view in my
head, I hear Deck’s words again:
We just gotta keep getting you out there,
keep getting you heard
.

“
But how?”

I call
him. “Hey.”

“
Blaze...it’s...
so
...good to hear your voice. Hold up. I’m stopping the
car.”

I hear Trev’s voice. “Say hi to Trev for
me.”

“
Uh, yeah, uhm, Blaze says hi.”

In the background:
“Waddup, Blaze.”

“
Hey.” I laugh. “Uhm, ‘waddup.’”

Deck mumbles, “She says
waddup
back to you.” I hear a door
close, then a strong wind. Deck whispers, “Blaze, uhm,
damn
, you
have
no
idea how good
it is to hear your voice.”

“
Oh. OK.”

“
I know. I know. It sounds all forward and
everything but, fuck, I had a rough night last night—”

“
You went out again?”

“
No, no. Just...didn’t sleep very well.
Anyway, look, I know this is insane but, fuckit, I feel good around
you, you know. I better shut up otherwise I’m gonna freak you
out—”

“
Don’t shut up.” I clench the phone
tightly. “Tell me, please. I need to hear it. Because last night,
with Tolek—I guess you figured out he’s my ex—”

“
Yeah, I figured.”

“—
and I panicked and...just...old memories
came back... Anyway, I can tell you all about it later.”

“
Please, yes. I’d like that. And, look, I
don’t wanna come around all weak and soppy and emo and shit but,
man, sometimes life’s rough, you know. And, well, then you find a
smooth stone—I’m sorry, I’m not so good with words—”

“
It sounds perfect.”

“—
so maybe this is sounding really corny.
But, you find a smooth stone after walking barefoot on shells and
glass and cutting your feet up and... Well, Blaze, at the moment
you’re the only smooth stone in my life. Business is good, my
friends are like my brothers, but only now do I see how much my
damn feet have been hurting from walking on all that broken glass.
Know what I mean? Like I said, I know it’s forward. But that’s
another thing I’m noticing. I don’t think with my brain when I‘m
with you. And I don’t think with that other organ either!” He
laughs. “So, that’s all I wanted to say. Crazy huh? Blaze? You
there?”

I clear my throat. “Uhm, yes.”

“
Did I freak you out?”

“
No. No. Not at all. Let’s make it an early
night tonight, OK? I wanna be with you.”

“
Deal.”

“
Look, there’s another reason I called.
Uhm, you’re good with business, right?”

“
I’m OK.”

“
Modest as well. Fine. Look...I was
thinking about what you said, you know, about promoting myself and
stuff. Uhm... What I’m trying to say is—”

“
You want some help?”

A lump catches in my throat. “Yeah, I want
some...
help
. Because, I
gotta be doing something wrong. Before, I could blame it on the
drugs. But in the last year, I don’t have that excuse anymore. So,
yeah, I could use some business advice.”

“
OK. No problem. I have some ideas we could
try.”

We hang on the phone a little longer. Just
like kids. I decide to pull off the band-aid, because that’s the
only way it works. “OK, Deck, really looking forward to seeing you
later. Bye.”

“
Me too. Later.”

I kill the call before my heart can stop
my brain from doing it.

I put away my fold-out sofa-bed and then
drop for a second on the sofa itself. I feel easier. More relaxed.
I feel, suddenly, like I’m not so alone anymore.

Like I could actually go out and catch
this sucker and make a meal of it! Like I could actually do
something to pull me out the rut I haven’t been able to get out of
since Savva...you know. Even thinking of her doesn’t get me down
that much—in this precise moment.

But
then my phone buzzes.

And m
y elated mood disappears quickly.

Xavier: We need to meet. TODAY.

Blaze
: Why?

He calls.
“Chiquita. Que passa?”

“
Xavier.”

“
Wanna get a drink?”

“
No, I don’t.”

“
OK. Fine. Maybe one day.”

“
What do you want, Xavier?”

“
Just sayin hi.”

“
Well, hi.”

“
You gonna be so cold to me after all I did
for you?”

It takes all the will I have not to charge
at him on that one. “Xavier, what do you
really
want? I mean, I know it’s all great and grand that
you suddenly got me this deal at
House Market,
and now we’re
into
Sacrament.
But I
gotta wonder about it all. I mean, what’s in it for you? Why now?
Why after a year? Because you keep calling me. You keep hinting at
us getting together for a drink. Look, our days are over. You have
to accept that. They died with Savannah.”

He’s silent for a second.

“
I always stay in touch with old
clients.”

I almost
throw my phone against the wall. But I can’t
afford a new one—yet. “Is that all I ever was to you? A
client?”
You
make me sick
. “Like I
said, I appreciate what you’ve done for me. And if you wanna rake
in a cut from whomever you deal with in the background for my
music, do it. But that’s all it was to me. A favor.”

In an ingratiating tone, he says,
“Blaze, honey, you no need to
worry about Xavier. Xavier understands. I just lettin you know
that, if you
need
anything, I
here for you. OK?” His accent’s coming out, because he’s getting
into the role.
If you
need
anything
...

I shudder.
“Look, have you actually gone and visited her at
all? Put some flowers on her grave or something? I mean, do you
actually
realize
she’s
gone, and what our role was in making that happen?”

Silence.

“
Xavier?”

And, just like that, I sense Hyde
disappearing, and Jekyll entering. And maybe this is where I make
the mistake. No, I
know
this is
where I make the mistake. Because that’s always been my problem:
I’m too trusting. I’m always looking for the good in people. Always
expecting the best.

And endlessly getting the worst.

Jekyll
says: “Blaze, you’re...you’re making this hard for me. I
just want us to go back...back to what we had.”

“
Xavier, we can never go back—”

“
See me.
Please
, Blaze.
Please
, I’m
begging you. Look, you’re right, I got you the gig because I wanted
something. But would you believe that all I wanted was to be with
the only person who was ever a real friend to me?
Please. I’m
begging
you!
When Savva left, then Patryk... You’re all I have
left, Blaze.”

And I can hear the sincerity. Jekyll. No
evil whatsoever in his voice.

And I’m too
trusting
.

“
OK. Fine.
One
hour. Because I can’t afford more. I need to
practice.”

When he says, “Thanks, baby,” I can’t
figure out which of the two characters I’m talking to. And that
makes me nervous.

“
Xavier, don’t be high when we
meet.”

“
Honey, I’m never high. I don’t
do
drugs.”

OK, that made me even more nervous.

We go to the
Swallow Café
, a coffee bar with a huge blue swallow painted on
the brick wall outside, the words
ESPRESSO BAR
across its chest. Last time I was here, I recall
there being a laminated sign on yellow paper near the restrooms
inside which said: “CAFÉ” IS NOT FRENCH FOR “RESTROOM.” IT IS FOR
PAYING CUSTOMERS ONLY.

Xavier’s in shades (it’s cloudy outside so
I assume he’s hiding
red
eyes) and a purple-pink Panama hat, rosy dress-shirt, and his
signature cream Armani suit.

He doesn’t take the shades or the hat off
when we get inside.

A coffee grinder goes mad in the
background, then a milk steamer.
“At least we can talk privately,” he
says.

“
And it’s spacious.” I gesture around. “And
no one will give a shit what we’re talking about anyway.” I can’t
take my eyes off his shades. “Take your shades off,
Xavier.”

Hesitantly, he does. His eyes are white
as
china.
Too
white
.

“
You baked?”

A moment’s pause. Then, “I told you I
wouldn’t be.”

“
But your eyes look like they’ve been
treated with eye drops. And your pupils are a little
dilated.”

“
It’s dark in here.” He glares me down.
Only, it isn’t much of a glare. It’s more like a deadpan, stoned
gazed. I sigh. Shake my head.

I quickly remember
running around with Xavier and Savva in
the playground when were kids, how he used to throw mud on my
dress...

Different
times
.

And:

Things change
.

“
It’s not too late, Xavier. You know. To
get out of it. To get out of the life. It killed your sister.
Surely that should be enough for you to take stock and step back
from it.”