#WritingWenches Three Way – Episode 9

The #WritingWenches three way is back. Our three-way write off involves authors each write a scene from a different character’s point of view in an ongoing story. The old adage goes that every character is the star of their own story–so we’re making that happen.

Maria, the physical therapist
Savior, the rock star who dated Maria before making it big
Serenity, the groupie girlfriend

This is the 9th installment of the Three Way. Previous scenes can be found:
1: Maria I 
2: Savior I 
3: Serenity I
4: Maria II
5: Serenity II 
6: Savior II 
7: Maria III 
8: Serenity III 
9: Scroll Down

Installment 9: The Three Way Write-Off, Savior

I slip out from under a redhead’s arm. It takes me a bit to remember who she was. Oh yeah, the girl who wanted me to check out her implants. I pride myself on being an expert on fake boobage, and that surgeon was an artist. The redhead is sleeping comfortably, but I have to make my way. We added a couple of bonus dates to the tour and I need to get back to the bus. A fast shower gets the girl’s smell off me. I can’t have Maria upset, not with how well my career is about to take off with her in the band.

It’s been two days since nitwit Serenity claimed to be percolating my child. Why does she think I want the paternity test? Gee, could it be that I haven’t been able to make swimmers in years? Getting a vasectomy was easier than defending against every rapid vixen that thought riding on Savior’s magic cock would somehow spring life into their barren wombs, not to mention spring my money into their wallets.

The redhead is awake and pouts that I’m taking off. “Thanks Darlin, I hope to see you next time I’m town.” I saw the latter without the stereotypical lying thing. I have every intention of calling next time I’m in town. I leave her a fifty to get a cab and breakfast.

By the time my driver drops me off at the band’s hotel it’s well past our scheduled leaving time. But I’m Savior, so the bus always waits for me. God, I’m a self-centered jerk. But, at least I’m the star jerk.

We get hotels when we don’t have a gig the next day. It’s good to be a star rather than sleeping every night in a crappy bus like the old days. I climb into the luxury coach we rent for this tour.  The rest of my band is here playing spades. Everyone except Maria, that is.

The keyboardist avoids my look. Her normal mode is to stare at me like I’m a god amongst men. What’s up with her? Is she judging me for the groupie? She knows I enjoy the perks of stardom.

“Where’s Maria, it’s time to hit the road.”

The keyboardist, who rooms with Maria when we get hotels, tosses me her keycard. “Miss Maria is running behind.”

Screw that. I hate waiting. It’s time to roll. I knock on her hotel room, but there’s no answer. I use the card to head in room. Maria’s suitcase is still here. The sound of the shower flowing comes from the bathroom.

I knock, but that’s met with her laugh. Well, maybe I should make the poor girl stop waiting. It’s obvious that she wants me, and the tour is wrapping up. I was hoping to keep her tension going until we could record, but she might die if I do that to her.

I push the door open and step into a cloud of steam. Maria’s outfit is hanging from the towel bar, right next to a man’s suit. My fists clench before my brain registers what is going on.

“Who are you?” a shaken man’s voice asks from the shower.

“Savior. Who the fuck are you?”

The man steps out of the shower and walks gingerly to me. He’s old. Like, gray chest-hair old. The man sticks his hand out to me. I ignore it. I don’t shake naked guy’s hands. Especially not one who violates what is mine.

“I’m Dante Shummer, I’m-“

I push him out of my way while saying, “A producer who makes shitty pop. I know the trash you put out.”

The steam clears enough that Maria’s nakedness appears. She’s not shy and covering up. I sense a trap. I also sense that she’s banging a producer. How morally devoid can a person go? “You’re supposed to be keeping true to the art. So what’s with floppy the aging clown here?”

“Dante is going to help me with me career.”

“That’s right. She’s a real talent. You have no idea how-.”

Dante is going to have a headache. I hate when idiots try to tell me that I have no idea. “Come on Maria, the bus is ready to leave.”

She steps out and wraps her arms around me. “What if I prefer to stay with him?”

The only thing he has going for him over me is money, and better clothes, and probably a better house. “Couldn’t you have just banged a fan instead? What were you doing, trying to make me jealous?”

“Uhhh, yeah.”

I grab a towel and help dry her off. We throw her clothes on and rush her out the door. I snag Mister handshake’s clothes. I leave his wallet—I’m no crook—but take the rest as penance. Enjoy explaining that one to the maids.

We climb on the bus and go past the band to my private bedroom—the only private room in the coach. “What was that little stunt?”

Maria isn’t taking my shit today. She holds her ground. “Stunt? I’m a grown woman. When I feel I need laid, I get laid.”

“No, that’s different. That’s more Serenity’s style than yours.” When I say Serenity she flinches. “That psycho planted something in your head, didn’t she?”

Maria shifts her weight back and forth.

“Out with it.”

“Serenity said that getting with guys would get you jealous. I’ve been so worked up that I needed a release. She suggested some cute guys on tour.”

She would. “And you ended up with the old guy because?”

Maria stands tall, shoulders back. “I’m my own woman. I’m not about to take her suggestions on men. So, I found someone on my own, and chose them.”

“One happened to be a producer. Let me guess, he said he’d make you a star?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Please tell me you used protection. Those producer-types are vile creatures.”

She’s across the room and smashing fists off my chest in an instance. “You are one to talk about protection. You knocked up your old girlfriend. Way to go brainiac. There goes any point in waiting on your dumb ass.”

I can’t help it. Laughter pours out of me like it never has before.

Maria shoves me so hard I fall on the bed. “What is so damn funny?”

“There’s something important I need to tell you.” I pat the bed next to me. She looks like she debates it before sitting. “I can’t get girls pregnant. I’ve been fixed for years.”

This time it’s Maria’s turn to howl with laughter. Good deal. I thought that Serenity was winning. I’m Savior. I always win.

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