Carmela + Amos

Chapter 8 - Carmela

Dear Diary,

           We were two months into the tour when I walked in on Rodrigo doing coke again. He was backstage warming up with the band, but I was running late and had to catch a ride with Melody in the groupie van. I hated being stuck with them. The women constantly scrutinized me through their compact mirrors while touching up their caked-on makeup when they assumed I wasn't looking. They thought I couldn't hear their whispers over the stereo about how young I was and how it was a waste for Rodrigo to have married me. According to them, his big dick would be missed by many women on tour. They even had the audacity to giggle over memories of hookups with him from previous summers. 

At least Melody never indulged in their conversations. Instead, she'd chat with me. This time, however, she snapped at Aurora, who had spent most of the ride whispering loudly to the other girls about the time she gave Rodrigo a blow job behind the curtains minutes before he went on stage.

"I swear, I beat my record from the last time he blew his load," Aurora snickered, her eyes flashing to me and then back to the girls before adding, "I bet she can't make him come like I can." 

"Aurora, nobody gives a shit about your dried up, herpes-covered mouth!" Melody barked. 

"Excuse me?" Aurora blinked slowly, her hand frozen mid-air with an obnoxious shade of hot-pink lipstick between her fingers. "I have a cold sore. Not herpes."

"Newsflash, you dumb cunt, a cold sore is herpes. Now shut the fuck up."

"Make me."

"Listen, if Rodrigo were so impressed with you polishing his pipe, he would have wifed you, but he didn't. Instead, he wifed Carmela, which means she's a heck of a better fuck than you. Got it? So shut your infested mouth and find another dick to gossip about." 

With that, Aurora's jaw clamped shut, and she shifted in her seat to stare out the window. I had no idea why Melody defended me or why she went out of her way to spend time with me at all, but at that moment, she was the greatest friend I'd ever had.

When I made it backstage, the band was in a separate room with their equipment, running through songs and tuning their gear. Rodrigo, on the other hand, was bent over an amplifier, inhaling white powder.

There was a screech of guitar strings as Ben and another guitarist paused from strumming, creating a wake of silence when I entered the room. I could feel everyone's attention scorching my flesh, waiting for my reaction as I took in the scene.

"Wifey." Rodrigo straightened, wiping the coke from his nose, the crumbs sprinkling onto his Led Zeppelin t-shirt like talcum powder. "You're early."

"No, I'm late."

"Fucking Melody..." he mumbled, his eyes red, but then he held out the rolled dollar bill in his hand. "Want to try?"

"No," I clenched my jaw and stepped back.

"Come on, baby. You'll understand if you try."

"You're a liar!"

"Ah, come on. It's just this once. I'm nervous. This is a big venue, and they're going to keep getting bigger. You know I'm not used to all this extra shit our manager is arranging for us."

"You promised you wouldn't do it again."

"Carmela..." He crossed the room, holding out his arms. "Baby, it's just a little blow. Everyone does it. It's like drinking tea to calm your nerves. It's not a big deal."

"It is to me." I brushed his hands away.

"Come on. Don't be like that," he begged and wrapped his arms around me, kissing my neck.