Loving a Man Who Forgot Me Novel Chapter 3
This life took its toll and could seriously make you lose sight of a lot of things.
I certainly had, which was the primary reason for my recent bout of alcoholism.
In three days I’d turn twenty-six and my life was not what I thought it’d be back when we signed our first deal and released the first album. Far from it.
I didn’t even like half these people, and here I was, watching them all getting fucked up, trying to get laid, trading sex and drugs and love and money, everybody just trying to prove they were somebody.
A bunch of jokers I didn’t give two shits about, and not one of them besides Gabe gave a shit about me beyond what I could do for them or what being seen with me could do for them. That’s what being fucking Abel McCabe got me. And everything I’d worked toward—the fame, the money, the status, the acclaim—it was a bunch of fucking empty nothing.
Hadn’t always felt that way. Up on stage, in front of a sold-out crowd of a hundred thousand people all singing your song right back to you, was a rush. Nothing but you and the music and your fans. No other bullshit. You think you’re on top of the fucking world.
Ha, I was a naïve little shit. Just eighteen, thinking I was going to get everything I ever wanted.
Dad tried to tell me. He knew. He walked this road of fame and fortune long before I did.
But what kid on the verge of stardom wants to listen to their dad’s warnings about being careful what you wish for?
The bigger you get, the larger your star grows, the more everyone just wants a piece of it.
I used to think it was all worth it, sold away bits of my soul one platinum record at a time on my way to the top, but it wasn’t just bits of myself I’d lost.
How had my life become this string of regrets?
I knew exactly how.
A vice tightened around my chest and I threw back the last of my whiskey. I needed another. I made eye contact with one of the scantily clad waitresses moving through the exclusive upper level of the club and wiggled my glass at her. She happily sauntered over and plucked the empty glass from my hand.
“Just bring me the bottle,” I told her, slipping her a hundred.
“Anything else I can get or do for you?” She bit her lip and batted her eyes in what I’m sure she hoped was an enticing manner.
“All I want is the booze, sweetheart.” Not the least bit dismayed, she spun around and strutted away with my glass, the sway heavy in her hips. I only let my eyes linger on her ass in that mini skirt and heels for a second before I dragged them away, not the least bit interested in any other offer she might make. I was a married man, after all.
Fuck, she needed to get back with that whiskey quick.
“Shit,” Gabe’s muttered curse was loud enough to reach me over the music and drag my eyes over to where he was tearing himself away from his piece of ass. He rushed over and yanked on the arm of the girl who’d made herself comfy beside me on the sofa. I couldn’t remember her name, even though I was pretty sure we’d been introduced. Something with an ‘s.’
Gabe jerked her to her feet. “Hey!” she squealed.
He muttered a quick apology and then dropped into her place and turned to me. “Katya’s on her way up here right now.”
“Tell me you’re kidding?” I growled.
“I wouldn’t kid about this. Spotted her downstairs, headed this way.”
I cursed under my breath and jerked my gaze to the stop of the staircase. Sure enough, she appeared a moment later, a look of determination and annoyance fixed on her face.
Just what I needed.
I didn’t bother waving or shouting for her. It only took a second for her laser focus to zero in on me and that look on her face to become even more pinched. Shouldering past people, she marched over in her ridiculous heels and flowy dress.
I relaxed into the seat, casually draping my arm over the backrest of the leather couch, even though I was feeling anything but relaxed. Katya came to a dramatic stop in front of me, cocking one hip and resting her hand on it. “What the hell, Abel?”
“What the hell, Kat?” I parroted right back at her.
With a huff she slid her purse off her shoulder and pulled her phone from the depths of the designer bag I probably paid way too much for. She slid her fingers across the screen and then shoved the phone in front of my face. “You told me you were going out with the guys, and then I see you partying it up with sluts!”