Chapter 40: Berzerk

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Chapter 40: Berzerk

Things had hardly improved by the time they’d flown from Dallas to New Orleans. Riley was still livid and flatly refused to talk to him unless they were onstage. And on the performance note, their skit had flopped. Instead of looking fearful, she couldn’t hide her anger towards him. It’d lost its wonder and joke. Even offstage he’d noticed she’d been putting distance between them. She sat as far away from him as possible on flights and they’d gone from sharing the same hotel bed nearly every night to separate rooms and locked doors. She wouldn’t even look at him.

It was driving him crazy. To think being physically apart from her was hard, this was just torture. At least when she was living in Miami and they were separated, he still felt her warmth through their phone calls. But this was just a cold existence, as if everything important had faded away. At this rate, the only moments he felt any sort of love was his morning phone calls to Hailie.

And if the situation with Riley wasn’t bad enough, he had Mark in his face at every opportunity. The guy was just as stubborn and vindictive as she was being. It was like being harassed by a high school bully: petty and annoying.

Speaking of which, Marshall’s phone buzzed out with Paul’s ringtone. Petty and annoying to the rescue, he knew it was only a matter of time before his manager called him. Slipping on his left Nike shoe, he reached back across the bed and picked up the mobile and lifted it to his ear.

“Yeah?”

Paul was so direct, that he knew shit was going down. “I need to see you right now. My room is two down from yours on the right.”

The connection was cut before he could even agree to another meeting. Sighing, Marshall stood and ducked down the hall, not even bothering to knock on the door as he entered. He was surprised to see Paul sitting at a wooden table, directly across from Riley and an empty chair.

When Riley met his eyes she scowled and gave Paul a look, “You didn’t say anything about him being here.”

Paul motioned Marshall to the chair, “Sit down. We need to talk.” Not wanting to argue with the sternest face he’d ever seen, he sat down, ignoring Riley’s irritated sigh. Paul dove straight into it.

“I don’t give a shit about what’s going on between you two personally, but the chemistry in your performance has died right off. It’s just turned into an unbearable corny mess. What’s going on?”

Paul gave them both hard stares and Marshall knew that now was a perfect opportunity for him. Riley wouldn’t get up and leave as it was unprofessional. He had her trapped, forced to listen to him. He kept his mouth shut while Riley covered the obvious mistake he’d made.

For a moment, he felt like they were in court. She was the prosecution, he was the defendant and Paul had somehow winded up as a judge. And the guy would know all about it, being a qualified lawyer. When Riley had finished, Paul looked at him, as if giving him the opportunity to bring his case before the court.

He glanced over at his girlfriend and almost felt sad, not seeing the twinkling in her eyes there always was when they made eye contact. “Riley…” He paused. “I don’t know what to say. Trying to get used to the difference in my relationship with Kim to you has been insane. I’m not used to the way we do things, especially going back on tour. I mean it when I say that I didn’t know what I was doing onstage. I was just trying to pipe up the crowd and I took it too far. I never intended to hurt you.”

Riley was staring at her lap. She looked like she completely understood where he was coming from but didn’t want to admit it. After a minute she lifted her eyes, but not at him, to Paul. She stood up and offered him her hand. Paul shook it.

“Sorry about my drop in performance. It won’t happen again.” As she turned to leave she held his eyes for a moment and gave him a small smile. He watched her leave, completely unsure of how to assess that situation. He didn’t even know if she was mad anymore…

****************

Nineteen Days Later…

Proof was glad to be down in Sunrise, Miami for the last two shows. With the weather cooling off up north, it was nice to have a few 80 degree days. The only thing was that performing onstage under blazing lights in warmer weather was a one way ticket to a sweat bath. With most of the tour behind them, it was almost sad to reach the end, but the last few shows were always the best because you made the most of it. It was always surreal to perform on stage to tens of thousands of people. It was something he never wanted to get used to.

Turning down the hallway, he spotted Marshall’s dressing room not far from the steps up to backstage. They had to be up there in twenty and he hadn’t come out, which was unusual. More often than not, they’d re-group before the performance and he hadn’t emerged. Slightly concerned, he approached the door and grabbed the handle, swinging it open, without warning.

As he put one foot inside, what he saw nearly made him fall over. Perched, or more realistically, pushed against the make-up desk was Riley, wearing even less that her crowd entertainment costume, Marshall standing in front of her. He had his head tipped back, as if he were in sweet bliss. And by the half a second eyeful that Proof got of them two of them going at it, he could only guess he was.

Riley noticed him and instantly look embarrassed. Proof spun out of the room as quickly as he entered and slammed the door shut. Hell. He could have gone his whole life without seeing that shit. Trying to remove the image from his mind, he slid down the wall onto the floor, legs sprawled out. After a minute or two, the door opened and Riley and Marshall both stepped out, lucky for him, with clothes on.

“I thought you guys were fighting.” He said.

Riley drew in a deep breath. Underneath the complete embarrassment that was clear on her blushing cheeks, she seemed conflicted. “We are.”

Proof opened his mouth, “Wait, what?” He frowned, trying to figure out that logic. “So you’re fighting…” He glanced at Marshall as the two of them sat down across from him. “But she’s fucking the shit out of you?”

Marshall rolled his eyes. “She’s not-”

“Dude, if you’re fighting anything like you’re fucking, she’s winning.”

Marshall punched him in the upper arm, “Don’t be a dick.”

“He’s right,” Riley insisted, raising a brow. “I am winning.”

“What do you want me to do?” Marshall stared at her, hopelessness in his voice.

Riley answered straight away, as if she’d been waiting for him to ask that. “I want you to do a nude run, backstage, during tomorrow night’s show.” 

Proof started laughing hysterically as Marshall threw her a wild look, “You can’t be serious.” 

Riley gave him an ‘I’m not joking’ look. “I’ve basically forgiven you but you embarrassed me, live and on stage. So I want you to be embarrassed. Call it sweet revenge.”

Marshall sighed, knowing she was stubborn and wasn’t going to budge unless he complied. “You’re crazy… this is ludacris.” Proof’s sides hurt he was laughing so hard.

He was still trying to pull himself together but he managed to squeeze out, “I’ll make sure the camera is charged!”

 He jumped up and as he walked down the hall Marshall called out to him, “Man, don’t!” 

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