I had made a rule a long time ago that I would never, ever try to see what people were saying about me and the band. I avoided news and rumors about us because the opinions of thousands of people who knew nothing real about me meant jack shit.
It wasn't a compliment that people wanted to know what you were up to – it was stupid. It was empty because, at the end of the day, they got their shits and giggles at your expense and moved the fuck along. All you got was thousands of people judging you.
They were different, Abby's situation and mine, but there were enough similarities there to make me feel like I could relate. Being recognized had really fucked her up for a couple days. I couldn't imagine being that kid, having to watch your father murder your mother in front of you, and then try to murder you, too.
If she had turned out fucked up somehow, shit, no one would have blamed her. But she hadn't. She was the sweetest girl I knew and she didn't deserve any of that shit happening to her. Any of it.
She was doing a lot better now. Makani and I hadn't really left her alone much. She had made a couple more trips out to Polihua Beach and now seemed like she was back to her regular self again.
"You have to have some stories," I insisted.
"This is a five-star resort. We don't really get backpackers coming through with drugs and parties," Abby quipped.
"The worst debauchery in the world happens at places like this. What's worse than a creep with money?" I asked. They laughed.
"I don't really see it," Makani said, shrugging.
"Oh, you know who ha
s the real horror stories? Housekeeping," Abby said.
"Oh yeah, the honeymooners?" Makani said.
"What about them?" I asked.
"What usually happens on a wedding night?" she said, smirking.
"Aolani, our friend who works housekeeping, told me she found the mother lode of sex toys in one couple's suite. They were everywhere with lube all over the linen and the furniture was all skewed. They didn't bother to hide anything. She didn't know what to do, so she just lined them all up on the bed like pillows," Abby said.
"This is like a real vacation spot, though, you know? Like there aren't enough strip clubs here to really see how fucked up people can get," I said.
"Discretion is important. You're kind of paying for it when you pay for the hotel," Makani said.
Didn't I know it? Everybody who had been in my suite knew I was an addict. They had to know. I hadn't taken that many steps to hide it. I threw used needles in the trash with everything else. I had left my kit lying out so often, anybody who had really wanted to know what was in there would have been welcome to take a look. I had gotten rid of everything. Even the bag I used to stash it all in, gone.
"Do you get old, married business guys who are here on vacation with women who are obviously not their wives?" I asked. The girls laughed.
"Ugh, it's so upsetting. You should see the guys we run into when we go out in the city. They can't keep their eyes off your girl here," Makani said. Abby smiled shyly. Any guy who could had to be blind.
"Next time, I should join you guys," I said.
"Why? You're looking for a little friendly competition?" Abby teased.
"There's no competition, babe; I already won," I said smirking. Makani laughed and Abby rolled her eyes, smiling.
I heard the door behind their desk open and looked up, seeing the manager walk through it. He looked at me and it seemed like something clicked in his head as he did. He glanced at the girls before walking around the desk to stand near me.
"Mr. Stone," he greeted me. "Everything is well, I hope?"
"Everything's great," I said.
"Do you have anything planned today?"
"Nothing really," I said, looking over at Abby.
"There is a luau tonight," she mentioned.
"About that," Joseph said, pausing. "Something happened. We're down two performers. That shaves almost twenty minutes off the event run time."