Chapter 1

We met on the road. Of course. My life is a cliche. Whatever you are thinking of when you think of some mid level metal band is probably about right. Mostly anyway. The tattoos, piercings, black t-shirt, tour bus, ex-wives, strippers and groupies. All true. The only exception is I gave up drugs about ten years ago, and booze soon after. Sober or not touring had become a haze of sameness. I got on well enough with the band and never had a cold bed, but somehow it had all gone a bit sour. Meeting nothing but people who either hate you or are enamored with you they’ll do anything really fucks with your reality. When you’re young you believe the hype. Get high on your own bull shit. And after a while you stop to think about what you done with and to people and it doesn’t feel good anymore. You either break, become a monster, or you develop a callus.

That's what I did. How I survived. Sex had become an act akin to jerking off. Self serving and perfunctory. I knew my partners sometimes enjoyed themselves but I felt like that was on them. So after a while I just stuck with strippers and sex workers. People who understand a good show and have a level of detachment. Besides, they tended to be more interesting, have more character than your average joe.

That brings me to meeting her. I guessed she was in her mid thirties and stunningly beautiful. Honey colored skin, short black hair, a small collection of bad tattoos and athletic in a way only a pole dancer could be. And once you looked past the makeup and fake eyelashes, into those big, deep brown eyes there was wit and fire.

It was all pretty perfunctory to begin with. I’ve been to a thousand strip clubs and had a thousand lap dances. Sometimes I’d meet someone I like and they would travel with us for a while, but it was always a temporary arrangement. Until I met her. Cherish was her professional name and to her friend it was Cherry. Later I’d learn it was Gabrielle. Gabbi.

She was adventurous, fun and knew how to party. Boy she knew how to party. But there was something else, something different. She had had a tough past. That much was clear. But there was a tenderness under her hard exterior. She was also funny. Not a mean way, just a great sense of humor and a love for silliness. Both things my life lacked at that time. There were other things that I couldn’t put my finger on, but felt right in an ineffable way I had almost forgotten existed.

She toured with us for the next three months across the USA and South America. She was fun, and got on with everyone. Even though I didn’t drink I would never begrudge anyone else. I looked at that I had just had my allocation for this lifetime. And she loved to drink, and party. She would put on impromptu shows on the bus. I didn’t mind. She was proud of what she did and for good reason. Besides I didn’t own her, she was free to live her life. But each night she would end up in my bed.

When the tour ended I asked her to come with me. I had a house in LA and one in Chicago. They were both fine. One to be near the industry and another in my hometown, but I decided to go to my cabin in Maine. I need to be away from everything for a while. Compared to the other houses it was pretty basic. Don’t get me wrong, it was comfortable, power sewer, even a small studio. But not a mansion. And it was remote.

Before we left I laid it out. “Look. These last three months aren't my life. If you choose to come with me you have to know. I won't be partying, my life is pretty still. Especially out there. If you’re looking for the rockstar life; this ain't gonna be it. I like you, but I need to know you can handle it”

She gave me a wink and said, “I grew up in a small town sweetie. I love the quiet life. It may take me a minute to change gears, but I think I can get there.” She already looked thinner than when we first met. The three months on the road had given her the look of someone hitting too many bottles, too much powder and not enough food or sleep. I had my doubts but I also liked the girl and I had a sense she would be heading on a downward spiral if something didn’t give.

We flew to Chicago to pick up some essentials from my place there, including my truck and drove out from there. It took a week. As we drove, listening to the radio, staying at roadside hotels when we couldn’t find anything better. We had a good time and I found we worked well together. She was still drinking a lot, I noticed there was always a pint in her bag and would restock every time we stopped, but like I said, I wasn’t gonna judge. And she seemed to have walked away from drugs pretty easily.

It was a tight windy road into the cabin and I knew in the coming months it would get snowed in from time to time. A couple of years ago I had been stuck for the better part of a month, but generally it was only two or three days here and there. We wove in and out, rock face on one side and a lake on the other. It was beautiful country and it never failed to ease my mind. Gabriella on the other hand was squirming in her seat. She looked uncomfortable, like she was trapped and wanted to get out. To run. “You alright there Gabbi?” She shivered and said, “Please don’t call me that. And I’m fine. Just a little cold is all.” I left it at that. I turned up the heat and patted her on the leg and said. “Not far now anyway. We’ll have fire going with the hour.” Then I tipped her a wink and added. “Cherry.”

True to my word we were sitting by the fire within an hour. I had made sure the place would be fully stocked before I left Chicago. Firewood, food, and all the other essentials we needed. It was a long drive just for a roll of toilet paper or deodorant. The agent I used out here also knew to make sure I had a fully stocked bar in case I was entertaining guests. There were a dozen bottles of booze, gin, vodka whiskey, rum etc. and six cases of beer. No wine, I had never developed the taste for it and had never kept a cellar. On top of that there was enough food to feed an army for a year.

I think it was the standing still that set her off. While we were driving we were still on the move. She could relax. As soon as we stopped she was agitated. That first night she was up and down like a yoyo. I grilled steak with jacket potatoes and greens, but she barely touched it. She danced, turned up the music, constantly flipped for energetic tracks. And always had a glass of vodka in her hand. It was like silence and stillness terrified her. By the time we went to bed she was almost blackout drunk. As I tidied the kitchen I noticed the empty fifth of vodka in the bin and another open on the counter. The next few days were pretty rough. I’m pretty sure the drinking started before breakfast. She barely ate and was becoming harder and harder to talk to. This was not my problem. By the fifth night of this I had decided to take her down to Bangor Airport and put her on a plane to anywhere she wanted to go. She was falling down drunk. I put my arm around her. And was half leading her half carrying her to the bedroom when she turned those huge brown eyes on me. Despite the unfocused glaze in them, they were still beautiful. Beautiful and sad. I murmured something that I missed. “You’re gonna have to repeat that.” She simply said, “Please help me.”

I put her to bed. She sprawled out and her shirt rode up revealing an almost concave stomach and ribs. She was so thin she was skeletal. I went back out to tidy up and to think about what to do. I picked up the half finished fifth of tequila and emptied it down the sink. I went and inspected the bar and realized that was the last of the hard liquor. The only thing left was the beer. That was fine. Cold turkey was a tough slog. Beer would take the edge off, but I couldn’t see her drinking a carton of beer a night.

The next morning she woke up late and I was there waiting for her with coffee. I didn’t beat around the bush. “Did you mean what you said last night? About help?” She looked at me, blinking those soulful eyes. At first I thought she was confused. Had forgotten what she had said. Then I saw. She was blinking away tears. I handed her the coffee and said, “There's no more liquor unless you have some stashed, and I figure even if you do that won’t last long so that solves one problem. There is still plenty of beer if you feel like you need a drink. But, there are gonna be a few rules. If you leave to get more liquor, then stay gone. I want to see you eat three squares a day. No exception. And I’d like you to be up with me each morning and come for a walk down to the lake and back. I’m not good at this and I’m not real good at compromise. You can accept that or I can run you down to Bangor. I’ll pay for your flight wherever you want to go.”

The tears began to flow as she smiled and gave a firm nod.

That first day did not go well. She got up and joined me for breakfast. I don’t think she had a drink that first morning. I cooked bacon and eggs with toast and she ate like it was the first meal she had had in days. Thinking about it, it probably was. After breakfast I took her on a short walk down to the spectacular view of the lake. I could sense her distraction. She was going through the motions. Following the rules but not yet getting much out of it. As soon as we got back she cracked her first beer. The rest of the day she had one in her hand. True to her work she ate the two PB and J sandwiches I made her for lunch and the steak and salad I made for dinner. The beer certainly had a different effect on her that the spirits. Probably coupled with eating proper meals she was a little slower, not relaxed exactly, just less hyper and by eight thirty she was lightly snoring on the rug in front of the fire. I had a look at the beer supply and it seemed she had managed thirty bottles throughout the day.

I sat on the couch with a cup of tea and watched her breath. One thing that was very apparent was the round, full belly on her skinny frame. Full of food and beer. It gave me a sense of pride to be looking after her and that full belly gave me a sense of something else too.

*I know its a slow start but promise sex and weight gain in the next one. Let me know what you think*