The Girl Next Door > jariana (COMPLETED)

twenty-eight

Justin

I don't think I ever recalled being bummed about leaving to go on tour, but I was. I was already missing Ariana and it wasn't even the beginning. Sitting in my truck, I thought about what we'd do the next time we were together. I wanted it to be memorable since I'd be gone for so long. The hot tub popped in my head, maybe Malibu or The Getty Museum.

I was seriously tired of everyone, but Ariana. Mike was turning into a total tool, and every day that went by I regretted choosing him to be in the band. Not only was he not agreeing with the creative direction I wanted to go in, he was constantly asking about or referring to Ariana, but in ways that I couldn't accuse him of coveting. He had the nerve to give me shit about how I was letting her influence me, as well as the bands direction.

I thought Mike would fit in. He had me sold in the beginning. In fact, I had to convince Bobby and Dump to let Mike in, now Dump was in the "I told you so" mode. Dump warned me that Mike was a total liability with his drug and alcohol use, but who was I to judge? I liked to drink and smoke weed now and then. I chalked up Dump's doubts to his recovery, not wanting to have those things near him. Now looking back I had blinders on, only seeing Mike's ability to play the guitar.

The silver lining in the whole increasingly toxic mess was Jeff Arnault, our new producer. He had an impressive roster of A-list solo artists and bands with hit singles notched in his belt. Jeff and Notting agreed with the new music, that's all that really mattered. I couldn't do it without the guys, but the push back and negative energy from Mike was not something that was conducive to creative flourish.

A bang at the tail end of my truck shocked me out of my daze. It was Dump and Sienna. "What's up man, why ya sitting out here?" Dump asked poking his head in through the passenger door and cigarette smoke gusted in with the breeze.

"Dude, get that cancer-stick out of here," I said rolling down the window farther, fanning my hand in front of my face.

"Aw man, sorry," he apologized, holding his cig back behind him. I guess being a recovering addict, Dump needed to keep one vice, a two-pack a day one.

Rolling up the windows, I reluctantly got out of my car, not wanting to deal with anyone, especially my mother after seeing her demeanor. The heat was intense enough that I started to perspire. I spotted Rachel pulling up and my stomach sank. Great, she was the last person I wanted to see. The guilt swelled inside me. I hadn't seen nor talked to Rachel since the whole Ariana encounter. I wondered what she was doing here. She certainly couldn't have been driving by. I looked over at Sienna, who gave me a shoulder shrug.

Rachel stayed in her car at the front of the studio, waiting for someone to acknowledge her. I approached Dump and Sienna and before I could mutter a word, Sienna came clean.

"Justin, don't look at me that way, she just wants to talk to you before the party tomorrow. I think she's pretty much over everything."

"Yeah, well," I mumbled, looking over my shoulder at Rachel's car, surprised to see Mike bent down talking to her at the driver's side window. "What? She hooking up with Mike now?"

"That guy? I'll lose what little respect I have for her if that's the case," Dump piped, flicking his cigarette butt in their direction. "Sorry bro, but Mike is on my last nerve, and Rachel for that matter. Oops, sorry," he said, covering his mouth. "I guess I can't go there." He gave Sienna a wry smile, throwing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for a quick peck.

"Don't be an asshole." She tried to untie herself from his grip.

"Aw, come on babe, you know she's a nutcase," Dump said, laughing.