It's Not the Life It Seems

“Babe, you down here?...Seriously this isn’t funny any more!”

Honey heard Gerard wandering around the halls, but didn’t come out. She wanted to be by herself for a little longer, and for some strange reason, she didn’t want his sympathy. She didn’t want him to hug her, and tell her everything was going to be alright, that he didn’t care what anyone else thought.

Gerard walked to the foot of the stairs where Honey was hiding and stopped. Honey heard him give a frustrated sigh before climbing the stairs and out of her ear shot.

She knew that they would be on stage soon and decided that would be when she would emerge from her hiding place and re-enter the world, knowing everyone would be distracted by the show and she would hopefully go un-noticed.

“That girl has got to be around her somewhere. The producer said that we have to find her or our asses are fired, because apparently this drama is just going to be magic for the show,” Honey heard a voice saying as footsteps approached.

“Stupid little bitch, always got to have some drama,” Another voice said.

“Tell me about it. If it’s not one thing with her, it’s another,” the first voice agreed. The voices stopped for a moment, as they took a break and rested on the stairs.

“I wouldn’t say no to her though,” one of the two men said, and laughed. There was silence again before they finally started walking away, their footsteps echoing in the empty concrete hallway.

Honey sighed to herself and decided that she had been hiding long enough from the world that had been so cruel to her. She slowly crawled out, her limbs adjusting to the sensation of moving again and looked around her, spying a door with an glowing exit sign placed above it. Honey stood, brushing the dust from her jeans and walked towards the door, turning the handle and praying that alarms didn’t start ringing.

She stepped out into the cool night, finding herself around the side of the venue that the band was playing at. She didn’t think about her actions, instead went with her instincts which were currently telling her to leave this place. Honey ran down the drive, towards the road suddenly wishing she had worn a disguise of some form when a herd of paparazzi spotted her.

Honey ran faster, her boots thumping on the pavement soon to be accompanied by another ten pair of feet as they followed her.

“Fuck off!” she turned around and screamed at them, their camera flashes lighting up her angry face.

Honey turned around and once more set off running, the eager paparazzi paying no attention to her request. She ran to the road and quickly looked up and down it, seeing no cars coming and continued her way down the road.

God, what she wouldn’t give right now to be a nobody, somebody who the whole world didn’t watch and scrutinize. Somebody whose every move wasn’t documented and splashed across the covers of millions of magazines so that the housewives of the world could purse their lips and ‘tsk tsk’ at her latest incident.

She was over the fame. The thing that she had craved for so long was now something that she would want nothing more then to part with. Everywhere she went, someone was watching.

Honey saw the distant lights of a cab approaching and quickly raised her arm to hail him down. The cab slowed and pulled over to the curb of the road that she was standing on. Honey quickly opened the door and jumped in, the cab being surrounded by photographers in a matter of seconds. The cab driver turned around and gasped when he saw his special passenger, feeling quite overwhelmed by the number of paparazzi that were surrounding his ordinary vehicle.

“Where to ,love?” The cab driver asked, turning around in his seat.

“Just take me to the nearest bar,” Honey replied, not even thinking about her words but knowing that was were she wanted to be.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I am fucking sure. It is my life you know, and if I want to go to a fucking bar I will damn well go to a fucking bar,” Honey snapped, folding her arms over her chest.

The cab driver looked visibly hurt by her angry manner, but didn’t comment on it, opting instead to turn back around in his seat and pull his cab away from the curb.

Honey sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. That was out of line and I apologize for that. I’m just not having a very good day today,” she explained to him, feeling guilty for lashing out so easily.

“We have those, darl.”

Honey nodded in response and stared out the window, ignoring the fleet of black SUV’s that were following the cab. She brushed her shiny brown hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear as she reflected upon the life she was living.

This fame, that so many desired, consumed her. It was who she was, it controlled her life. And she was sick of it.

“There’s a small bar just up ahead, you want me to drop you there?” The cab driver broke into her thoughts.

Honey glanced up and saw the neon sign up ahead.

“Yes, please.”

The cab pulled up beside the bar, the cars that had been following quickly coming to a screeching halt as their owners jumped out with their camera’s at the ready.

Honey pulled the door open and swung her legs out.

“Thanks,” she said to the driver and handed him over some money to cover the fare.

“No problem. Just be…careful,” he said, a look of worry evident of his features. Honey gave a small smile, knowing that tonight she was going to be anything but careful. Because being careful is what everyone wanted her to do, and why should she do what they told her?

Honey heaved herself out of the cab, pushing her way through the growing number of paparazzi towards the bar, ignoring the logic in her head that was telling her not to go in there because these people will just be waiting for her when she came back out.

She pushed open the door, revealing a dark room with a few regulars gathered on the many bar stools. A jukebox was playing and there was one couple swaying on the wooden dance floor that was in the centre of the room.

Honey approached the bar, perching herself on the comfy stool.

“An apple martini, please,” she said to the barman that had come up to her. He looked at her in confusion.

“We don’t got those here,” he told her in his gruff manner, clearly having no clue who she was.

“Vodka on the rocks then.”

He nodded at her request and shuffled away to make her the drink. Honey smiled warmly at him when she saw he had not been scarce with the vodka, as he placed it in front of her. She handed him money, telling him to keep the change and keep them coming. She raised the glass to her lips, the liquid creating a burning sensation in her throat as she tipped it down her mouth.

Before she knew it, the first glass was gone and was soon replaced by a fresh new one.

“Hi there.” Honey turned to see a man who looked to be in his thirties leaning up against the bar facing her.

“Hello,” she replied politely, taking another gulp of her drink.

“So, what’s a gorgeous girl like you doing in a place like this?” he said, a sleazy smile present on his face.

Honey raised an eyebrow at him.

“What ever I feel like doing,” she told him, an angry glint in her eyes as she stared directly at him.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He offered, not being at all deterred by the ‘fuck-off’ face she had on.

Honey looked him up and down, barely stopping a sneer from taking over her features.

“I don’t think so.” Honey took another big gulp of her drink, finishing off the contents in the glass. She raised her hand to signal the bartender for another. He nodded in her direction, indicating he nderstood her request.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like you,” she told him plainly as the barman placed anther drink in front of her, not at all worried about the fast rate she was consuming them at.

The man’s face fell, his drunken mind finally registering her words and realizing he wasn’t wanted.

“You girls are all the same. You put it out there and then get so offended when we give you what you want,” he sneered at her, his drink slopping out of the glass as he struggled to keep it steady.

“You know what?” Honey said, slurring slightly on her words and pointing drunkenly at him, “fuck you.”

The man sent one more glare in her direction before turning around and returning to his friends, who had been the ones to dare him to talk to the beautiful Honey Meadows who had looked completely lonely sitting by herself at the bar.

Good riddance, Honey thought to herself as she watched him walk away, feeling herself being in a surprisingly feminist mood. Perhaps it was because men always seemed to want to be in control, and that was something Honey so sorely lacked in her own life.

Control. It was something she simply craved.