King of Hills by Devlin Price - HTML preview

CHAPTER 51

Will you…?

It was a surprise I hadn’t been thrown in a pokey, it really was. I was certain I’d be behind bars for what I did to that Kathy chick, but instead there had been a case started against her for an attempted murder. I mean... how unlucky can one get? That kid’s gonna born in to a fucking prison, not that it was any of my business. I despised the girl, I really did, but as much as I hated her and kids in general, I couldn’t wish for that shit to a sinless soul. But... oh well.

Finally we had pulled up to a hotel that for an instance had a wonderful bed and sheets that didn’t have stains all over them. Right now booze wasn’t needed to forget about Pat’s hatred towards us and the fact that on normal occasions he’d hand us the most cheepest, most disgusting hotel suits imaginable to man, but right now, we were the faces of every heavy metal magazine, so he kinda decided to flip the switch and turn on his humanity not only for Paul, but for all of us. But then again, maybe that was because I threatened to kill him... Who knows...

I was lazily lounging on my bed, running my eyes over the newest issue of Metal Hammer, reading something about Linkin Park and their new sound, before I got bored mid-sentence and turned the page. It seemed like none of the bands could up with something now – we put everything we had in this record- was a standard phrase for fucking everyone! As I bit down on my apple, my phone vent in full destruction a.k.a. vibrate mode, causing me to nearly choke on my apple.

I emptied my mouth, before pulling the techniqual wonder to my ear, "Fried and Served take-away... What’s your order?"

I heard a light chuckle, before he answered, "I’d like to have a large portion of ‘you’ if that’s possible. But no chilly, you’re spicy as it is."

"Hmm... I’m afraid to say sir, but we don’t serve ‘you’s’ on the go." I smirked as I turned the page and saw an article about our band – The Beautiful Wasteland takes over the world.

"That can’t be true. I ordered the same thing just yesterday..."

"There must’ve been some kind of a misunderstanding. See, we don’t serve large portions of ‘you’, the best we can do for you, sir, is a medium fried with a large cup of ‘inside me’." I snickered, looking over the picture of my band.

He started laughing, "That’s a good one. You should write that down."

"Done and done... So what was that you wanted?"

"I’ve made a reservation at Bella Rosa for 6 o’clock. Wear something nice. A car will be waiting outside the hotel."

"What’s the occasion?" I rolled on my back, hypnotizing the white ceiling, remembering the dirty things he did to me yesterday.

"You’ll see." I could hear him smirk, if that was even possible and then he just hung up. Oh well...

I took the magazine back in my hands, before realizing he said the reservation was for 6 o’clock. Hesitantly my eyes slid over to my wristwatch. Five fucking twenty four PM! Are you fucking kidding me?

I jumped out of my bed, taking a real quick glance in the mirror, figuring it wouldn’t be enough with a little bit more than half an hour to get this hot mess to be less of a mess and more of a ... hot. I hadn’t washed my hair for days! Are you joking? ‘Wear something nice’ didn’t cut with my pale face, bruising eye since I had went head first against the drum riser just a couple days ago, and my stinky arm pits!

King and his fucking timing... Okay, I think I may have a time for a quick shower, I’ll be just in and out. Just like that... quick.

Yeah, no... I got a bit carried away with singing Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On until I realized I didn’t have that much time on my hands to be fooling the fuck around. At least I was smart enough to keep my hair intact... and dirty. A fedora will do, right?

Another fucking disaster happened when I realized I didn’t have anything that would fall under the category of ‘nice’. And shit, I have only ten minutes... Think, fucking think, Meg! Oh I know, the Frankenstein Bride’s dress I wore for the Halloween! Holly fucking hell, what the fuck is that? Why was something white and sticky—never mind. The ripped jeans it is. As I pulled the jeans over my legs, I grabbed my button up shirt, rolling up the sleeves, before I walked over to the mirror and powdered the shit out of my face, trying to conceal the bluish bruise under my eye. I draw a real thick line with eyeliner on my upper eyelids, before finishing it all off with a mascara. I stepped back to take myself in. Well... It could be worse, right? Oh who the fuck cares, I don’t have time anymore! At least I decided to wear my cheap and fake, but marvelous Christian Louboutin’s that will get me killed at one point.

Okay, ready to go! Oh, almost forgot – the leather jacket. Was it too much? Hells no, Meg without leather isn’t Meg.

It took me only ten minutes to get to the car, because I was almost tackled by a crowd of paparazzi’s. If it wouldn’t be for the driver, I’d be dead right then and there. I had been blinded by the flashlights even through my sunglasses and I really had no idea what routes we took to get to the restaurant, but when I got out of the car, I realized this may not be my scene. It all looked so... sterile. So fucking clean... Where’s the sticky surfaces and the cheap beer I like so much?

I sighed... Meg, do this for Ryan, remember, you love him.

I fixed my fedora as I walked in the fancy ass place. Even the waiters were better dressed than me! Okay, breathe in, breathe out... Be a Budha.

"Are you mis Hills?" Before I even managed to open my mouth, the host addressed me with a smile on his lips.

"Uhmm... yeah?" I frowned. How the fuck did he know who I am?

"Right this way, mis," He guided me to a table at the far end of the restaurant, but by a very huge window. "Here’s the menu, mister King said he’ll be running late so you should choose anything of your liking."

Mister... King? "Yeah... Okay..." I took off my sunglasses and hooked them behind the edge of my shirt.

"I’ll be with you shortly." And with that he left. Oh.my.god! Was he on crack? No one smiled meeting me up close dressed like I was going for a funeral outside our shows! I pulled out my phone from my pocket just to text King.

Dude, this place’s really freaking me out! Get here ASAP! The fucking door man or whoever he is smiled at me!

I took the glass of water and took a big gulp, not being able to relax since I felt every single soul staring at me. Should’ve wore something nice, should’ve... Yeah. Should’ve owned something nice! The phone indicated that I had received a text.

Chill doll. On my way, be there in less than five. Order something for me.

Order something...? Yeah, I remember how that turned out when I went to that fancy French place with Scott and little Boyd. I didn’t understand a single word the waiter said to me and just picked Caesar salad or something in the end. I glanced over the menu. The... what?

RYAAAAAN!!! There are fucking big words in the menu! I hit the send button, before trying to figure what does Chausson du Fromage de Chevere means... I frowned, taking another mouthful from my glass, before turning to a different food.

"Are you ready to order, miss?" the waiter was back and I was terrified to no limits just to try and pronounce the names.

"Yeah... I’ll have... no, I really am not." I sighed, hopefully looking up at his kind looking and old face.

"Should I come back later?" He smiled.

"I don’t think there’s a point for it, since I don’t understand a single word on the menu... Can you just get me a portion of the meatiest meat you have and another which consists of loads of cheese... I’m vegetarian."

"Of course," He scribbled something down in his notes, before leaving.

I heard that annoying doorbell ring right in the same moment as I opened the app for Temple Run. I raised my eyes to look Ryan looking practically the same way as me, mind the fedora. "What the hell took you so long?" I whispered, but in all honesty it was more of a shout than a whisper.

"Relax, I’m here..." he smirked, stripping off his leather jacket, before hanging it over the back of the dark chair. "So... did you order something?"

"Yeah, I did... and I never want to order things again!" I hissed as he sat down, looking very much out of breath. "Were you... running?"

"A bit," He raised a glass of wine to his lips.

"So... why are we here?"

"I’ll tell you after we’re done with eating."

I leaned back in my seat as I eyed him patiently, my eyes narrowing on him, "I want to know now." I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You’ll have to wait until later," He said casually, before looking down at his iPhone.

"Okay, you not telling me stuff is one thing, but burying yourself in that goddamn phone, like seriously, Ryan?"

"I’ll just reply real quick... and I’m done." He looked up, smiling warmly. What was that thing he’s doing just now? A smile? Where’s his infamous smirk? Devious Knox doesn’t do... smiles. Waiter, check please! I’m out! "Oh come on, turn that frown upside down!"

"King, you’re seriously starting to creep me out."

"Okay, so how was your day?"

"...fine?" I still had that frown on my face, which was growing only larger, "Now tell me why we’re here."

"You’re a bit impatient, don’t you think?" He chuckled lightly.

"You know I won’t calm down, before you spill what’s the deal."

"I know," He sighed heavily as he turned to the side and dug his hand in the pocket of his leather jacket only to pull out a small black box. Carefully he placed it in the middle of the table, "Well... open it."

Holly shit, was it what I think it was? "King, I’m... afraid. There’s a tiny bomb, ain’t there?"

"Just... Just open it."

The only thing I could do at this point was to stare at him, before my hand reached for the velvety thing. Oh Jesus Christ, I can’t do it... I really can’t, I can’t open the darn thing, it will blow up in my hand! Okay, breathe, Meg, just breathe...

With a great devotion, and a great sigh, I slowly opened the box.

"Oh hells no!" I exclaimed, seeing his face drop instantly. "You have to take it back from whatever hell you got it!"

"So that’s a no..." I could feel every eye on us now, but hell, I couldn’t handle my emotions. Did you see the size of that rock? Jesus. Fucking. Christ! And since when did they come in black? I couldn’t afford this thing even if I received the real percentage of what I earned and sold my liver on the black market!

"Ryan, this... this thing is too much..."

"You don’t like it, I get it," He snapped the box from me.

"What? No, I love it, it’s just... Do you have an insurance on that thing?"

"Do I need one?" A small glimpse of his casual dirty grin mirrored on his face.

"You sure do! I’ll lose it in a fucking heartbeat!"

"No, you won’t." He assured, taking the ring out of the box and taking my hand. "You do know what this means, right?"

"Yeah..." I sighed, "No oil wrestling for good old Meg..."