He rolled over in his warm New York hotel room and noticed she was gone. Good. He didn’t have to wake up finding her laying there next to him, smiling. He didn’t have to wake up and then have her start telling him how much the night before meant to them when they knew that the night before didn’t mean a damn thing to him. Not one damn thing.

Groupies. The best thing about being a musician. But sometimes the worst. An addiction. That’s what they were, an addiction. Just like drugs, alcohol or cigarettes. Probably the safest addiction there was, even though no addiction was safe. No addiction was good, and he knew that.

He was Brett Scallions, lead singer of the once not-so-popular band Fuel. But now, in 2004, six years after their first big CD was released, they were everywhere. MTV, VH1, magazines, T-shirts, hats, posters, etc. Everyone knew who they were and most of them wanted Brett as if he were some teenage heartthrob.

The thing was Brett was married. Almost two years and had a little boy at home with his wife, Lisa. But poor Lisa, Brett was out sleeping with other girls, while Lisa was at home, taking care of their son and trusting Brett.

He threw the blankets off of him and noticed the pair of pink, lacy, Victoria Secret thongs lying on the bed. He remembered her. Last night, showing him a good time. He picked up the thongs and threw them in the small wastebasket that sat in the corner of bathroom; he had no need for them.

He picked up his dirty clothes from the night before, which lay crumpled up next to the nightstand, and stepped into them. He reached into his back pocket to make sure his wallet was still there. He pulled it out and opened it to see how much money he had in there. Three hundred dollars and a photo-himself, Lisa, and their son, Ryan. He really missed them, he wish he didn’t have to do this. He knew that he didn’t HAVE to, but he couldn’t resist it. It was like he couldn’t stop. His guilt was really starting to catch up with him. He sat down on the bed and starred at the picture when he heard a knock on the door and then Kevin’s head poked in.

“Hey Brett. Come on down, the bus will be leaving soon and we cant afford to leave you behind,” he joked.

Brett sat on the bed, still starring at the photo. Kevin opened the door slowly and stepped in. He sat down next to Brett and looked at the photo. He knew…the whole band knew.

“Not again Brett. Please. Not again,” he said with deep concern in his voice.

Brett starred longer and tears began to form in his eyes. He stood up, shut his wallet, tucked it back in his back pocket, rubbed his hands over his face, and then through his hair. He let out a big sigh.

“Please don’t tell the others,” he pleaded. “Please, Kevin.”

“Brett, you need to stop. You have a wonderful and not to mention beautiful wife and the cutest little boy waiting for you at home. IF you don’t stop you’re going to lose that, and I know that you don’t want to.”

“But how do I stop? It’s like I can’t. I try to resist it, but I just can’t.”

Kevin got up off of the bed and started to head towards the door, Brett followed. They were heading out to the tour bus where Jeff and Carl were waiting.

“Just tell the girls that you have a family now. They should understand. If that wont work for you then just don’t go backstage. Don’t go to the after parties, just wait on the bus. Now, we have one show left tonight, in Harrisburg, our town. The town where your wife and song waits for you. Let’s see how you do.”

Brett and Kevin stepped off of the elevator and up to the desk. He placed his key on the counter.

“I’d like to sign out please,” he said to the secretary.

“Ok sir. I need your name and I need you to sign on this right here,” she said as she took the key and put his receipt on the counter along with a pen.

“Well,” Brett said to Kevin as h signed his name and handed the receipt to the secretary, “I’ll try tonight. I’ll try to fight it.”

Brett’s cell phone rang only minutes after he and Kevin got on the bus and headed from New York to Pennsylvania. He got up and moved to the back of the bus to talk. He always liked to have some privacy.

“Hello,” he said in almost a whisper.

“Hi daddy,” said Ryan, his 2 ½ year old son.

“Hi Ryan,” he said, smiling. “Are you being a good boy for mommy?”

“Uh-hu.”

“Good. I’m coming home tonight. It’ll be late, and you’ll be in bed, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Can I talk to mommy now?”

Lisa got on the phone with Brett, happy to hear his voice. Not having a clue about his secret life. She told him about how she couldn’t wait to see him. It had been almost six months since they had been together. As Brett sat talking to his wife that he didn’t want to lose he decided that he had to tell her.

...to be continued...

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