Chapter 6

Shane stared at the empty sheet of paper in front of her. It was begging to be filled and yet Shane could feel the leaden weight of the pen in her hand. She slumped back in her seat and the pen fell onto the floor with a dull thud. Sometimes Shane wondered whether she was losing her talent, simply because she was losing her ability to feel. She was becoming numb to everything around her. She knew very well she was on the road of self-destruction and somehow she didn’t give a damn. She was long past redemption and nothing could save her. In the past she used to find consolation and reprieve from pouring her soul into songs, now even that was beyond her reach.

She heard the intercom buzz and she pressed the button. “Miss McCutcheon, there is one Cherie Jaffee looking for you,” There was no hesitation from Shane. “Send her up,” Moments later, she heard the doorbell ring and she opened the door. Cherie was standing there and seeing her standing there with her perfectly-manicured fingers and expensive clothes reminded Shane of why she had fallen in love with her. She was something foreign, something unattainable. They had met in a bar. Shane was singing to a crowd whose lack of interest did not deter her and her eyes had met Cherie’s across the room. Two lonely people from two different worlds and they had clung onto each other. She had thought she had found her kindred soul. Until one day Cherie told her she had long lost her ability to love and that the only thing she couldn’t live without was Steve’s money.

Cherie came in and her perfume wafted up to Shane’s nose. “I’ve divorced from Steve,” Shane didn’t say a word, she simply advanced up to Cherie with the sleek grace of a predatory animal. She lifted Cherie’s hair from her nape and brushed her lips against her neck. She could hear Cherie’s little intake of breath and she jerked her shirt out of her pants. She cupped Cherie’s breasts from behind and her thumbs flicked across Cherie’s taut nipples. She delved her hand down Cherie’s pants and her fingers brushed against her clit in light, teasing strokes. “Shane…..” “Tell me Cherie…what do you want from me?” “Shane…please…” Upon hearing her plea, Shane withdrew her hand and sat on her couch, facing Cherie. There was a confused look on Cherie’s face. “Tell me Cherie, how does it feel to have your hopes dashed? To be left hanging?” Shane said as she cupped her hands around her cigarette and lit it. Cherie buttoned up her shirt and lifted one elegant arch of her brow at Shane. Her features had hardened and she looked down at Shane with contempt and revulsion. “Fuck you Shane, fuck you….and I thought I was pathetic,” Her lips twisted into a smirk and she slammed the door hard on her way out.