Broken Record

Chapter 13: Stevie

Stevie was distracted. To be fair, Stevie was often easily distracted. But today was different. Today was Wednesday. The day of Benton's weekly session. She'd tried to forget about what she'd seen snooping on Mary's computer. She'd even gone for a run this weekend to clear her head when working out was never an activity she willingly engaged in. She wondered if it was a sense of boredom, security. The cushiness of serving out her corporate sentence leading her toward a new cliff's edge. Stevie was and always had been an adrenaline junkie and the question mark about Benton and his secret meeting got her blood pumping. Even the faintest possibility that it could be something more than a weekly therapy session or dinner date, drove Stevie into a salon product store a few streets from her apartment, to buy a high-quality black wig. The cut was severe, the front bottom edge of the hair hitting right at her cheekbones. She loved the sleek and dark look, an alternative to her usual pastel array of dye colors for her naturally pale blonde hair.

"Not vibing today huh?" Aero leaned back in his leather studio chair, kicking up one $3,000 studded designer boot dangerously close to the mixing controls. Stevie sighed and took her headphones off, knowing that her mental distraction was getting in the way of her creativity. She felt tense, filled somehow with an urgency for release. It was like all of her usual creativity was bottled up deep inside of her and something had clogged the hose that let it out into the real world.

"Guess not, my head's not in it," Stevie reached for a beer, tapping off the cap in the smooth way that Aero had taught her. He'd become like a cool older brother or a young Uncle. She couldn't decide which, but either way he felt like family. The only real friend she had since being sentenced to Los Angeles.

"Yeah, same. Had a shit weekend," he took a deep pull of his beer, the tattoos against his throat flexing and moving as he swallowed.

"Oh yeah? How so?" Stevie twirled in the leather chair opposite his, eager for some famous LA drama to distract from her thoughts of Benton and his secrets. The devil's secrets, she thought.

"My ex, she threw a whole scene down at Baker on Melrose. It's the only club I can go to where the patrons don't pressure me to play," he laughed, the sound dark and sad at the back of his throat. "Now she fucking ruined it for me, lumping me in with LA trash."

"Who's your ex?"

"Maria Brinkley."

Stevie almost spat out her recent sip of beer. Maria Brinkely was an actress on Homebound. The only mainstream TV show that Stevie allowed herself to watch. Because it was that good.

"I know, I know, don't say it," Aero waved his arms at Stevie's awed expression, "she's a real piece of work, trust me. There isn't a doorway her head can fit through."

"What a hard, hard life you lead, Aeronox." Stevie smirked at him, earning a light slap on the arm.

"Look, I'm a sad, broken man okay? Give me some pity." He smiled at her and she laughed, missing the banter of her friends back home. Even missing her sister, Olivia.

"What's wrong?" Aero noticed the change in Stevie's expression and she looked up from the mix table, smiling shyly.

"Nah, nothing. Just kind of miss my sister. Which is weird because I never thought I'd say that. She's annoying as hell and the total opposite of me."

"You have a sister?" Aero leaned back further, resting his head against his arm.

"Yeah, and she's a real piece of work, let me tell you. She'd give your Maria a run for her money." Aero snorted at that and offered Stevie his fist.

"Let's call it a day kid, you already have one song with a billion streams and another getting pretty close last time I checked." He stood and slid on his leather jacket, looking every bit the worldwide DJ producer sensation. Was there a part of Stevie that wanted that? The fame, the lifestyle, the notoriety? But then she looked back at Aero's eyes and saw the hurt and frustration there. Nope, life was already hard enough without throwing fame in the mix. He left the sound studio, leaving Stevie alone. She reached into her backpack and felt the soft fibers of her black wig. She'd do what Mary hadn't been brave enough to pull off yet. She'd well and truly follow Benton after work, even if it was just a selfish form of adrenaline and endorphins that she'd been lacking since her pirating days. The edge is what made her feel most alive, and she was hellbent on finding it again.