“You do that,” Matt said. “How is it?”
“Being married?”
“Yeah,” Matt said. “I never thought you’d do something like that. I mean, you love gash as much as I do, right? And you can have almost any bitch you want. How is any one bitch worth it?”
“She just is,” Jake said, knowing that Matt was incapable of understanding. “There’s a lot to be said for being married. Laura and I have a lot in common. We’re both musicians, we both like to fuck. We love each other. It works out.”
“But isn’t it like looking at the same fucking porno mag every day?” Matt asked. “Doesn’t nailing the same pussy all the time get old?”
“Not really,” Jake said. “There’s more to a relationship than just pussy. Having meaningless sex was all right back in the early days, but I like the relationship part of being with a woman long-term. We’re a team and Laura is a great person to have on that team with me. She always has my back and I always have hers, no matter what. It’s us against the world. I like that.”
“Interesting,” Matt said thoughtfully, as if he were pondering the mating habits of African bush people during the rainy season.
“How about you?” Jake asked. “You and Kim still together?”
“We’re not together the way you mean it,” Matt said. “She hangs out at my house and we fuck, and I help her with her business. She has that porn company, you know. She pulls in pretty good coin with that and doesn’t have to fuck on camera anymore.”
“I’ve seen some of the videos she makes,” Jake said. “Good quality fuck films. I’m particularly fond of the amateur lesbian series.”
“Those are pretty fuckin’ hot,” Matt agreed.
“And they’re really amateur chicks?” Jake asked.
“Oh yeah,” Matt said. “It’s fuckin’ amazing how many hot sluts in LA are willing to get it on with another hot slut on camera. And most of them are doing it because they really want to try dyking out and this is their chance. They’re not doing it for the exposure, or the measly thousand bucks Kim pays them for the shoot. That’s what makes those videos so hot. They’re not really acting.”
“God bless America,” Jake said proudly.
“Fuck yeah,” Matt agreed.
They drove on in silence for a bit. It was not as awkward as it should have been. Matt was the one to break it.
“I heard that new tune you got going with Bigg G,” he said.
“I Signed That Line,” Jake said. “We’re getting a lot of airplay on the hards and the pops with that one. What do you think about it?”
“I really wanted to hate it,” Matt said. “You know? Because of our history?”
“Yeah,” Jake said. “I understand.”
“But I don’t,” Matt said. “It’s a solid fuckin’ tune. You guys did a good job of fusing the two styles of music. And you even pulled off modulating the key back and forth. That’s something I’ve never had the balls to even try ... but maybe I’ll give it a shot.”
“We put a lot of work into that tune,” Jake said, smiling a little at Matt’s praise. “The lyrics were definitely from the heart.”
“Yeah,” Matt said. “A punch in the face at National fucking Records and their first-time contracts.”
“You picked up on the meaning,” Jake said.
“Couldn’t help it,” Matt said with a shrug. “You’ve done some good work with your other solo shit too. A little mellower than I’m really into, but good solid tunes.”
“Thanks,” Jake said. “I’ve been listening to your shit as well.”
“And what do you think?”
“You were off to a good start with Next Phase, and I could see what you were trying to do, but you should’ve let them engineer that a little bit. It was hard to enjoy it raw like that. It was like a piece of pork loin that wasn’t cooked through, you know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah,” Matt said softly. “A common complaint about that CD.”
“The shit you’ve put out since then, though...” He nodded his head. “Solid, Matt. Really fuckin’ solid. Your guitar playing has evolved a lot since the Intemp days.”
“I think that’s mostly because I’m not tied down to a particular sound like I was with Intemp,” Matt suggested. “I can do all the palm-muted chords I want now. I don’t have to worry about how to fit a fucking piano into the rhythm.”
“That’s part of it,” Jake agreed. “But a lot of it is just your innovation. The stuff you do with the effects pedals is amazing. How do you get those kinds of sounds out of that old Strat of yours?”
“Experimentation,” Matt said. “I plug in all the effects pedals and start fucking around with different combos until something catches my ear. And then I start fucking around with that, trying different chords, different riffs, different solos and see what I can come up with.”
“I like it,” Jake said. “It’s very unique, very powerful at times.”
“It’s what I do,” Matt said. “I play the guitar.” He hesitated for a moment. “There’s something I want to ask you, while we’re talking about guitar playing.”
“What’s that?”
“Why didn’t you take credit for the guitar tracks on that beaner bitch’s CDs? Or on your own CDs?”
“You knew that was me, huh?” Jake asked.
“Of course I knew it was you,” Matt scoffed. “I’m fucking astounded that everyone who heard those cuts didn’t know it was you. Those riffs fucking screamed Jake Kingsley. And they were decent enough riffs too. Even the solos you did on some of the cuts—like the one in Playing Those Games—they’re nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed of them,” Jake said. “It’s just that they’re not Matt Tisdale riffs, not Matt Tisdale solos. I didn’t want the comparison game detracting from people’s enjoyment of the music. Especially if I’m not going to be coming out on top of that comparison.”
Matt considered this for a moment and then nodded. “I suppose that makes sense,” he said. “But you did take credit for the guitar parts in I Signed That Line. What’s the difference there?”
“A little agreement between G and I,” Jake said. “I’m playing some of his tour dates with him as a special guest.”
“I heard about that,” Matt said. “It must’ve felt good to step back up there after all this time.”
“It really did,” Jake said with a smile. “Anyway, since I’m playing some of the dates, G thought I needed to take credit from the beginning for the guitar tracks. I agreed to do that if he agreed to take credit for the piano tracks, and to play them onstage.”
Matt nodded. “That makes sense,” he said.
Another silence developed. The downtown high rises began to grow larger and larger before them. This time it was Jake who broke it.
“Hey,” he said, “you remember that time we went to Helen’s softball game in Ventura and that hoity-toity housewife bitch came up to Kim and asked her why she thought it was appropriate for a porn star to be there?”
Matt nodded his head enthusiastically, laughing. “Fuck yeah!” he said. “That trip was fuckin’ classic!” He turned to look at Jim, who had been silent as a mouse in the back seat. “That was right after Jake learned to fly. Helen was his instructor, and he was boning her the whole time he was taking lessons from her!”
“Not the whole time,” Jake said with a chuckle.
“Goddamn, did she have some fuckin’ titties on her,” Matt said nostalgically. “And she was a squirter too, right?”
“That’s right,” Jake said.
“Whoa,” said Jim, holding up a hand. “A squirter? You mean, like... really a squirter?”
“Really a squirter,” Jake confirmed. “When she came, it would come flying out at you and hit you in the face. Pussy juice, not pee. And if you were fucking her and she came, she’d leave a wet spot two feet wide.”