Infernal Redemption

Chapter 1

This path feels like I have walked down this road before, but for some reason I can’t seem to quit.Most of you’ll know my name and fame but not all of you know the real Janae Davis, the bones and the blood shielded by this bright misleading exterior. There was a day when an angel walked into my life and handed me the key of luck. It was onlymuch later realisation bit mehard with the fact that the lucky key gave me everything I wanted but not everything I needed. We are all works of fiction, but the pages that I ink are the little words inscribed on every corner of every bone in my body. Janae Davis, sensational singer by day, depressive poet by night. See, the funny thing here is that I did try living without the pain but the grief and agony became so much a part of me that I almost felt incomplete without it. My lyrics are fuelled by saltine tears and my voice with all the sadness the seven seas could sustain.

At 22 I was signing myself with TL Records, and suddenly everything was shining under such a glorified light that I had to pinch myself ten times a day to believe that I was finally living the life I had always dreamed of. My manager/ assistant of about three years and the only person close to family was the only one allowed to waltz in and out of my house at all odd hours. Her bright red hair was flying all over my dining room at 1 am the day after I signed my deal.

“It just struck me.” Rose said heading straight for the wine glasses

“That it’s 1 am or the fact that you’re getting too old?” I whispered lazily

She gave me the look that said shut up and listen, “What song are you going to record first?”

“You know I’m meeting the producer tomorrow,”

 I knew her deep grey eyes wanted to go through my folder to pick a song. She had been to all of my previous gigs, but that gave her only a glimpse of the words that I had penned. I was very secretive of the words I wrote; in the sense that I wouldn’t sing them if I didn’t think they were exactly what I felt. My scribbles, my splashed ink and my poems were for my eyes only. Her fingers had been itching to pick the unseen and the unheard up to read them ever since she discovered my folder which contained my journal and other such papers.

“Why don’t you decide?”

After a long hard stare, she took the folder from my hand and said “You’re seriously letting me read this?”

“Hurry, before I change my mind.”

Of course things didn’t go the way we had hoped, they almost never do and thankfully this time it was for the better. My debut EP garnered so much fame that it was unfathomable. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the charts and sales.

I wanted to do toned down versions of the songs, but the producers went with something more or less upbeat and in about half a year’s time, I was touring nation-wide with the heartthrob of the country.

“Hey Angel, I’m Ryan.”

Ryan Cane, who didn’t know him? Ryan’s music was a raved worldwide but what made him so wanted were his darling looks coupled with that bad boy image. A girl could try to stay away but she couldn’t resist his charm. As for me, I thought he looked fine, alright and I was a fan of his music but I wasn’t floored by the mere image of him. My crush on Adam Thorpe surpassed the rustic charm of every male singer that is or has ever been. My knees would shiver at the sound of his voice, he was brilliant and insane all wrapped up in one and someday, he would be mine.

“Do you usually address women that way?”

“Nah, just the ones that look like a fallen Angel and you’re the first I’ve met. Tell me, do you have sisters clouding this planet? I’d love to meet them all.” His eyes shined brighter than his career but I hated his flirting.

“You need to get those fictitious sunglasses off, sugar. No angels here, only devils and their playmates.” I winked at him and pulled my hand out of his grasp and walked over to speak to Rose.

“What is your name?” he calls out after me

“For someone who has a certain distinction in story telling, you sure can’t read.” I look over and reply. If I was going to be on tour with a vain womanizer, I was definitely going to have my fun in teasing him. Rose stared at me like I had been hit by crazy in the worst possible way.

“That is Ryan Cane, nobody blows off Ryan Cane. You’re going to be in so much trouble, you realise that?”

“Oh relax, Rose.”

“Keep that smart mouth in check, you’re the opening act and they can easily find someone to replace you.”

“Something tells me, he won’t.” I whisper.

We were at the label head office and both our managers thought it would be a good idea for us to meet before we went on tour. We were in the lounge, sipping on hot cocoa on an unusually cold spring afternoon. I was eating the remainder of my marshmallows and Rose was a rambling wreck. She was adamant that I would do something to create a huge mess which will leave me with less than what I had started out to begin with. Hushing Rose I start discussing the meeting and interviews I had to attend for the next week until the tour started.

“Looks like a lot of interviews involve the almighty’s presence”

“He is the phenomenal and Janae, they want you’ll to be seen together, to tone down his wild wayfaring personality and to get you some popularity.”

“Rose, no. No bloody way.”

“But J, you must. The label thinks it’s the best thing to do. They aren’t forcing you’ll out on dates but they don’t want any animosity. It’s not the acceptable for two of their artists to be feuding in public. Ensure that the news is speculating about your status with Ryan and that should be enough. Plus you’ll be on tour with him, make an effort. Get to know him. Janae, for the love of god, do not tease this man. He’s the kind of man who always gets what he wants, do nothing to haul him over that furious lava. ”

“I don’t know the man to start a fight, but I do think he’s one pompous prick, but I’m in no position to judge his life choices. What time is the interview tomorrow?”

“I’ll see you at 8am, love” a quiet whisper tickled my ears. I hadn’t before acknowledged the density of his voice, so rich yet so deep and almost crude. The kind of voice rock stars have, the kind of voice that made you shiver.

Nodding in response to his closeness, I pushed past him, dragging Rose with me; I wanted to leave for my comfort paradise: home. That thought had to be crossed off my head, there was no resting, I had to be comfortable around Ryan if I had to be on national television with him. Before Rose could say what my mind had been thinking I say “Rose, I‘ll see you later.”

About 15 minutes of fast paced, unfading, backward and forward contemplation later, I walked to where Ryan was standing with his manager and said something absolutely idiotic “Do you want to go grab some coffee?”

“I’m drinking some, aren’t I?” Ryan continued to stare at me until he couldn’t hold it any longer and started smirking. God, that cheeky jerk. I turned around to walk away when he grabbed my hand and said “There is a spare room in the office here, let’s sit there and we can discuss tomorrow’s events.”

“Look, I just don’t want to say something that might embarrass you.”

“Hey, there is nothing you can say or do which might or will embarrass me. They think I’m a horrible human but I’ll tell you a little something? I am a good guy; I’m not what the media makes of me. They almost always click me at the wrong time.”

I half smile at him. We sat talking about everything, from our taste in music to his favourite nightclubs. He told me he didn’t like reading, that threw me off a bit but I wasn’t surprised. There were so many notions that I had passed which needed reversing. He wasn’t half the monster I thought he was. Sure , he was arrogant, but that was a trait which came with his territory. Talking to him was like talking to my best friend, easy and warming. For somebody so famous, he sure didn’t act pricey. Flirtatious? Yes, but he didn’t seem like a beaten up kid at all. He kept ruffling his hand through his near curly light brown hair and the corners of his thick pink lips curled, almost giving away a smile. At 6 feet, he was skinny yet not too skinny and unlike most musicians his age, he hated skinny jeans.