Blythe is like any other human being on this planet. She has a history. When her sister decides to drag her out to a party to help her relax she's not expecting anything more than a miserable time. By now she should know that the smallest things can bring huge changes to your life. William is going to open a whole new world to her. Can they escape that past together?
Blythe had argued with her mother for hours that she didn’t need a night off she was perfectly happy staying home. She had argued through dinner, through her sister curling her hair, and through getting dressed. She even argued from the passenger seat of her sister’s red charger as it was backing out of the drive way. Yet, here she was hair and make-up done up walking down the side walk of some rich neighborhood. The rock music from the so called “party house” they were heading to could be heard at the end of the street.
Blythe couldn’t decide if she felt more like a hooker or a college party girl. “Then again,” she mused, “not much of a difference there.” Aspen, her sister, had insisted Blythe wear one of her party dresses and had spent nearly half an hour simply standing in the closet trying to decide which one. In the end it was some red slut suit that was so revealing Blythe needed only turn to her mother and raise an eyebrow for her to agree. In the end Blythe had left the house in ripped jeans a tight fitting black shirt from a concert she’d been to when she was 20 and a brown faded leather jacket that had been around longer than the shirt. Aspen was giggling with two of her cohorts about the party while Blythe walked behind glad they weren’t attempting to talk to her as well. The music was obnoxiously loud at this point. Blythe rolled her eyes as the girls as they jumped excitedly in their too-high, high heels. They had reached the front of the house. Every light in the house was on the windows open, music blasting, and drunken idiots stumbling in and out of the front door. The girls had already rushed inside and disappeared into the crowd. For a moment Blythe considered going back to the car and sitting gout the party but with a deep breath she pushed herself into the crowd.
It was nearly midnight and Blythe was standing in the kitchen nursing a beer. Leaning back against the counter next to the sink Blythe found herself singing to the song that was currently blasting through the house. She off handedly wondered whose house this was. Aspen had mentioned that it was a popular band throwing the party but hadn’t said any more. That was Az always more interested in the party itself than who was throwing it. Just as Blythe was considering dumping the nasty beer down the drain something or rather someone plowed her into the counter. She gasped for breath and as the body in question moved away she nearly fell to the floor.
“Damn it! Man, I’m sorry. You ok?” She felt a strong hand on her elbow pulling her up and before she looked up she was being pulled out of the brawl that had broken out and flooded into the kitchen. With some difficulty her mystery attacker/savior managed to drag them both onto what looked like the back porch. Blythe plopped down on a chair and let her head roll back in exhaustion. As she stared at the roof of the porch, nasty beer still in hand -How that managed to survive she’d never know- she felt the stranger sit down next to her. After a moment of silence he asked, “What are we doing?” She turned to see he had his head reclined to stare at the roof as if mimicking her own actions. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve been trying desperately to avoid this party.” She was staring out across the back yard into the pitch blackness.
“Why?” The stranger sounded genuinely concerned.
“I’m not really a ‘party and get plastered with a hundred people you don’t know’ kind of girl.” She said with a sigh. She knew she was being a buzz kill and wished he wasn’t asking her questions that would make her sound so….boring.
“Then why are you here?”
“My sister and her groupie friends dragged me along.” She scoffed “You should have seen the dress she tried to get me in.”
“Not a dress kind of girl either?”
“No, I am. I just prefer my dresses to cover my breasts at least part of the way and not have a slit up the front of an already too short skirt that clearly says easy access.” She felt herself getting irritated with her sister now. “Sorry, I’m being a buzz kill and wasting your time. I’m probably not the sort of girl you’re looking for at this party.”
“You’d be surprised.” She heard him admit under his breath. When Blythe turned to respond she saw he was staring out into the blackness as well, with a distant look on his face like he was remembering things he really didn’t care for.
“Blythe.” She said holding out her hand, noticing for the first time that he was actually rather dashing. Yea, dashing was the word. Handsome was too common; he definitely had his own unique look but it looked good. He turned and smiled a super white smile and took her hand.
“Billy, it’s been a while.”
“A while since what?” Blythe questioned raising a brow.
“Since a woman had the gull to introduce herself and shake my hand.” Billy was dead serious but Blythe laughed at this.
“Sounds like someone’s on an ego trip.” But she grinned back at him anyway. He smiled and tilted his head a bit.
“You have no idea who I am do you?” he asked amused. Blythe sighed. She knew who he was just like she knew he didn’t mean what he said in a condescending way but that phrase just seemed to come off that way.
“Well,” she considered “We’re at a groupie infested party, rock music has been blaring all night, your name is Billy, and you look a hell of a lot like Billy Slate Morrison. So either you’re a damn good look alike or you are Billy Slate Morrison.” She gave him her own cocky ass look before winking. She felt her heart flutter a little bit after she winked because that was totally out of character for her. It must have been the evening air because she hadn’t had enough alcohol to make her this cocky. Billy seemed thoroughly amused by her antics.
“Two can play at that game.” He smiled “Hm…let’s see.” Billy put on his best Sherlock Holmes in thought face “By the tone of your voice you don’t like groupies,”
“Groupies don’t like themselves once they’re sober.” Blythe interrupted, “So you can’t really blame me for that.”
Billy let out a small laugh before continuing, “You don’t like groupies, you don’t like parties with strangers, I would say you’re conservative after your dress fiasco earlier this evening but you’re wearing a t shirt from one of my concerts,” He made a small hand gesture towards Blythe’s shirt and she looked down and then quickly blushed. “Well, well you are human inside that tough shell after all.” Blythe stuck out her tongue and blushed again. It had to be the night air because she never acted like this. It was Billy’s turn to raise his brow but he did so in a more debonair fashion than one would expect.
“Careful” He said his voice an octave lower. “I’ve been known to bite.” Blythe felt her stomach twist and her blood get hot. She wanted to say something but didn’t know what to follow that with. Finally she looked him square in the eyes and said “You’re more than welcome to try but I doubt I’m as easy to get to as the girls you’re used to.” He smiled that glorious, insanely white smile again and said “I know. That’s why I like you.”
“I don’t think you want to do that.” Blythe said quietly.
“What’s wrong with a man liking you?” Before she could answer there was a crash and the window behind them shattered. When Billy turned back to Blythe she was on the ground unconscious. He quickly dropped to her side and turned her to face him. She was out cold but worse when he pulled his hand away it was wet. He couldn’t see well in the dim light but he had a sickening feeling it was blood. With that Billy scooped her up into his arms and kicked himself through his own back door. With one glance around the room he spotted who he was looking for. Pete, one of his bodyguards needed only a nod of the head to know what to do and quickly started corralling people out of the house. It wasn’t fast enough for Billy who had become very impatient. He stepped up on the coffee table in the main room and screamed at the top of his lungs. “EVERYBODY GET THE FUCK OUT!” The DJ stopped and everyone turned to Billy like he’d gone crazy. “You heard me.” He said again “Get out of my effin’ house, now.” He watched as everyone started fumbling for the doors. ‘This is sure to be in a tabloid.’ He thought bitterly. ‘Crazed Rock Star kicks everyone out of his house while holding unconscious women.’ As gently as he could he set Blythe down on the couch before searching for his phone. He could tell that couch had to be uncomfortable and made a mental note to move her if the paramedics gave the ok. With that he dialed 911. Again, thinking how the emergency recording was likely to be replayed over and over in the coming days all over the media. He sucked in a deep breath and hoped his PR rep wasn’t going to be screaming at him in the weeks to come.
When Blythe came to she was in a dim lit room laying on something soft but her head hurt too much to keep thinking so she closed her eyes and thought about as little as possible. A few minutes passed and she heard a door open when she turned she saw a strange man in the doorway.
“Oh good you’re awake now.” He said cheerily. “I’m Mason, the boys’ doctor.” Blythe’s head was killing her.
“Who’s?” Was all she could manage. The doctor smiled kindly seeming to understand.
“Blythe?” he asked softly.
“Yes?” She replied weakly her head offering to explode in response to her exerted effort.
“I’m sure it hurts very much to move or talk or even think much right now but I’m going to ask that you listen to what I say and answer a few questions for me so that I can provide you with proper care. Do you understand?” Blythe managed a small nod. “Ok. I’m Mason. I work for the band Slate Grey. I’m their on tour doctor. William asked me to come and care for you after this evening’s incident. Can you remember what happened?” Blythe tried for a shake of her head but this was a horrible idea and instead went with a forced
“Understood. You were hit in the head by half a bottle of Jack Daniels. Well obviously it was the whole bottle only it contained half its usual contents.” Dr. Mason chuckled at his own joke apparently thinking himself quite funny. “Now, you may have suffered a small concussion but I think it unlikely. I have one more question for you then I will give you some pain medicine and come back in an hour after they’ve set in. The last question is how much you’ve had to drink this evening.” Blythe tried something new. She held her index finger about half an inch away from her thumb and held it up for the doctor. “Ok a little. How much is a little. Four?” Blythe made the gesture again “three? Two?” Again she gestured. “One?” This time she changed the gesture and made a slashing motion with her hand. “Half?” The doctor guessed. Blythe made a thumbs up. “You’ve had half a beer? You’ll have to understand I find that hard to believe. This is not the first of Mr. Morrison’s parties I’ve been called to. Most find themselves drinking much more than half.” Blythe made the slashing motion again to indicate ‘half’ and pressed her hands to her temples. Her head was on fire and felt like it was inside a pressure cooker or rather that it was the pressure cooker. She could hear the doctor’s pen scratching and then the clink of a glass. “Ok, Blythe. Two pills for pain. Water or pills first?” Blythe forced herself to sit up a bit and reached for the water. She took a small sip and popped the pills. The doctor stood to go but she reached out and brushed his arm. He turned back and she made a small gesture –touching her hand to her chin before pulling it away again- hoping he understood.
“You’re quite welcome young lady. I assure you that Mr. Morrison pays me more than enough to compensate for the occasional late night call.” Blythe was glad he understood and rolled onto her side wondering if all doctors knew sign language and with that she drifted back to sleep.
To Blythe it felt like mere seconds had passed since she’d last seen the doctor but he assured her it had been more than an hour. The pain medicine had done her wonders and the only pain she really felt was the actual spot where the bottle had connected with her head. Dr. Mason asked her a few questions about how she felt and if she really had only had half a drink and that led into another topic and before she knew it she was accounting much of her life to the kind man. He seemed very interested and even adding his own stories to the conversation. By the time he glanced down at his watch and said he needed to get going Blythe was certain hours had passed. “Well, I think I’ve kept William waiting long enough. If he has to wait much longer he just might fire me.” Blythe made a face and Dr. Mason assured her that it was unlikely the band could find another doctor willing to do what he did and not to worry his job was very secure.
“But what is he waiting for?” She asked.
“To see you, young lady.” He said as though that part were obvious.
“Yea, sorry, it must be the concussion because I still don’t get it.” Mason smiled at her childish tone.
“While I would assume it is normal for one to be anxious as to the well-being of someone injured in their presence but I think there might be more to it than that.” Dr. Mason winked “Well, best of luck with the little guy.” He said softly before opening the door.
“He’s my entire world.” She responded happily.
“I’m sure.” The doctor answered then with a glance out of the door he poked his head back in. “I believe there’s a gentleman caller at your door madam and he appears to have been here for quite some time. Shall I wake him?” Blythe laughed and nodded sitting herself up against the headboard. She hadn’t really taken stock of her surroundings but apparently she had been staying in someone’s room.
“Hey.” A low voice roused her from her thoughts. Billy was standing just inside the door not looking at all himself. Well, at least not much like the self Blythe had seen so far. He seemed nervous, like he was afraid to approach her.
“So how’re you doing?”
“Pretty good, your doctor’s a great guy.” Everything went quiet for a minute. Blythe started fidgeting with her hands before conceding “I should probably get out of your hair. I’m sure whoever wants their bed back and….”
“No, you’re fine. It’s my bed.” Billy rushed to cut her off. He was still standing close to the door. Blythe felt like a teenager as her heart fluttered at the thought that she’d been sleeping in this very handsome man’s bed. However, his standing was making her nervous. “Ok, well are you going to stand there all night like a piece of furniture because honestly your making me feel really odd.”
“Where should I go?” He said shrugging and raising his hands in defeat. Blythe glanced around
“I don’t know it’s your room. Sit where ever you want.”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He said carefully.
“Why would you make me uncomfortable?” She said slowly getting the feeling there was more to this than she understood.
“Er…I uh…I heard what you said to Mason about having someone who’s your whole world and I thought I might make you uncomfortable.” Blythe looked at him for a moment and then let out one quick laugh before shaking her head.
“You have heard of doctor patient confidentiality haven’t you?” She asked in a playful but accusing way. “And of course you only heard that part and nothing else.” This time she smiled to let him know she wasn’t angry.
“Well, it wasn’t like I was listening I just heard that part because the door was open when you said it.”
“Doc said you were sleeping.” She retorted. Billy shrugged.
“I was dozing. I haven’t been able to sleep all night; I was worried.” He shuffled his feet. He looked like an uncomfortable twelve year old boy.
Blythe laughed and said “Come on sit where ever you want. It’s not what you think. Totally, single.”
Billy must have regained his previous cocky attitude because when he sat on the bed he didn’t sit on the edge he slid right up behind her and laid back with his hands behind his head. Blythe had no choice but to accommodate him by laying back herself and truthfully she didn’t mind. They laid there in silence for a few minutes before Blythe asked “Do you like being called, Billy?” He turned to look at her but she was staring up at the ceiling head propped on her hands.
“Well, that is my name. What else would people call me?” He responded.
“Dr. Mason called you William. So if you’re name is William they could call you that, or Will, or Bill, or all kinds of things.”
“Yea, and they could all call me fuck head if they wanted, too.”
Blythe looked at him quickly thinking she had offended him but he was grinning his head off.
“If you don’t like Billy call me whatever you want it doesn’t make a difference to me.” He really was grinning like a lunatic she thought to herself.
“I like Billy. I just wondered if you did. I mean you started recording at what, 16? I can see Billy for a 16 year old but most people grow out of nicknames I could see where being in the spot light you wouldn’t have that chance.” It was quiet for a long time and when Blythe finally turned to Billy she found him staring back at her. She shifted a bit trying to be comfortable with his constant watching her but she just wasn’t getting used to it.
“You can call me Will if you want.” He said smiling
“I really like you, Blythe.” He finally said with a pleasant sigh returning his gaze to the ceiling. Blythe, however, let out a defeated sigh and turned back to the ceiling. Billy propped himself up on his elbow next to her.
“Hey, I just said I like you. I didn’t say hey I like you we should screw, or hey I like you by the way I just hit your dog with my car. If you don’t like me it’s fine.”
“It’s not that.” Blythe replied.
“Then what is it because I’ve known you less than a day you’re driving me crazy, deliriously, out of my mind.” Billy’s voice was tinged with desperation. So with a deep breath Blythe turned to him and said
“My life is complicated and dramatic. I don’t have the luxury of being able to drink, party, do drugs, and sleep with who I please.”
“That’s a little rude to stereotype me in with the rest …”
“What? The rest of the rock stars of the world?” Blythe scoffed sitting up. “Don’t try to pull that on me. I’ve only been listening to your music since I was eleven. I may not be the bands biggest fan or most wanted stalker but I watch the news and listen to the radio. I know of at least two times you’ve been in rehab for real and I was at this party tonight. There are things in my life too important to risk. The problem isn’t that I don’t like you. It’s that I do and I can’t risk liking you.” She hopped it was too dark for him to see her tears but when she turned back she saw something worse. He was hurt. Genuinely pained by what she had said, but she knew it was all too true. Blythe couldn’t take anymore disappointment in her life right now. With that she stood up and walked briskly to the door and then all the way to the front door. Just before she could open she felt a hand on her arm. She turned, tears still streaming. It was Billy, he placed one hand behind her head and ran his fingers through her hair before settling at the nape of her neck.
“I’m so sorry that your right.” He whispered. His voice was thick and he choked slightly on his words as if he were holding back tears. He leaned down and kissed her as if he would never see her again. ‘Which he probably wouldn’t.’ Blythe thought with a sharp pang in her heart. “Bye, Blythe. You’re an amazing woman.” He said when he pulled away. Blythe felt more tears coming and she rushed out the door before letting herself break down completely.