When Jon got to the hotel room, Dorothea appeared to be fast asleep.
“Thank God.” He thought as he crept past the bed and into the bathroom. Wanting to keep things quiet, he shut the door in an attempt to ward off the bright bathroom lights that could peek through, thus waking her up.
He truly did not want to deal with her now. He looked at himself in the mirror. He appeared tired, but not as bloated as he was a couple of days ago in New Jersey.
He touched his throat. It felt a little tender; he knew he had overdone it. Talking so much to Trina combined with singing for 3 hours straight didn’t help matters any.
Next to the sink, Jon had a small, black toiletry bag. He opened it, took out two cough drops and popped them promptly into his mouth.
The mint coating slowly dissolved his mouth leaving a cool liquid that felt fantastic on the back of his throat. He would need to talk as less as possible from this point on. His voice needed to work a lot over the few days. Any overuse could end this tour for months. A luxury he couldn’t afford.
Jon peeled off his clothes. A shower with its steam would work wonders for his voice. It would open up his throat, but most of all ultimately relax him a bit. He turned on the water and simply waited for it to warm up.
He quickly jumped in, letting the water wash over him. It temporarily took any pain or frustration he may have had that day down the drain.
Jon closed his eyes. He thought of how much fun he had on stage, the interview he had with Trina, hanging with Trina at the Bowery…Pretty much he was thinking of Trina all the time.
He felt such an instant connection with her. He wanted to stay to make sure that her review was the best she could do. He wanted to stay to see her smile, but mostly he wanted just to stay and talk to her. So far, she had been the most truthful person around him and the guys. He needed that now. He didn’t know if he could last on this tour much longer if he didn’t have that.
Jon took the body shampoo from the shower caddy. He poured it on himself from head to toe. The suds cradled into every chiseled part of him. From framing his perfects abs to down and around the small of his back, “ I wonder how she did with her review?” he suddenly thought. “She was so nervous.”
He went underneath the water once more, he turned the water off and grabbed a towel from the caddy.
He dried his trademark long hair. The sandalwood smell of the body shampoo lingered warmly to his skin.
He wrapped another towel around his waist, watching the small droplets dance around his legs. Now relaxed, he was grateful to go to sleep and deal with all the problems tomorrow.
When he opened the door, Dorothea was sitting up at the front of the bed leering at him. He took a deep breath and sat down at the foot of the bed. His blue eyes glared through with hers like daggers.
“I heard you in the shower.” She whispered. Jon rolled his eyes. “ Not now.” He told her.
“I’m sorry I interfered. “ She said. “I know you and watch what others do for you. I just assumed that I could help-“ she said.
”If you knew me. You know I can give a rat’s ass about what sells a magazine or a newspaper.” He interrupted.
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I love you so much.” She told him.
“Do you? Or do you like what you think I am?” he said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she said.
“Maybe I’m not that person. It’s like you believe what the magazines like Teen, Circus and Hit Parader are saying. “ He told her bluntly.
“It’s true. What they’re saying is true.” She said.
“Bullshit!” he snapped.
“There is more to me than my fucking hair and my ass!” he yelled.
Dorothea nodded. “I know that, but to keep you on top, I had to tell her off. She needs to keep to the profile of how you’re perceived. When things slow down a bit, then do those types of interviews. I don’t care.” She said.
“Since when did you start becoming my manager.” He asked.
“I’m not trying to be your manager. I’m watching out for you. I’m trying to make sure you make as much money as possible.”
“Or else what?” he interrupted.
‘For yourself.” She cried. He snickered and stood up.
“In the morning, I want you gone. When I get back to Jersey. I want your stuff out of the house!” he told her angrily. He began to walk towards the door.
“Where are you going?” she cried.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go to Obie’s room, maybe Richie’s room. Hell, maybe I’ll grab some clothes and go to Trina’s. “ He said sarcastically.
“Did you fuck her?” Dot asked him. “Was that what that display was for onstage?” she cried.
“We’re done. I don’t owe you a freakin thing.” He said.
“Yes, you do! You owe me everything! I stuck by you when you were a gopher in New York. Hell, I put up with you with that whole Diane Lane drama! Now you’re going to tell me to go because I’m watching out for you? Because I open my mouth and don’t take your bullshit? Fuck you! Have fun on the rest of this tour!” she said jumping out of the bed.
She was sobbing uncontrollably. Jon couldn’t help but to feel a mixture of sympathy and anger. She was right in a way. She didn’t have to stay through his different phases anymore than he did with her now.
Dorothea continued to pack with nervous intensity. She peered through the closet picking up anything she could. Jon stood motionless.
“The least you can do is help me. You want me gone so bad; or maybe that’s just little too much truth for you.” She cried.
Jon bent down, he began to help her; however he was silent, his eyes slowly filled up with tears. D Dorothea was going to pick up a shoe she had dropped when Jon reached for it at the same time. Her hand was underneath his; he loved how soft they were. He missed the feeling of being invincible whenever he held her. It was they against the world. Nothing could tear them apart.
He couldn’t help but to look at her huge brown eyes, streaming tears endlessly down her face. Jon took his hand from hers and began to wipe her face.
Still crying, Dorothea took her hand and placed it over his. “I am so sorry.” She whispered. “Please don’t make me leave.” She pleaded.
Jon slowly bent down, his warm lips brushed against hers, tasting briefly the salt of the tears. She took his arms and wrapped them around her torso. She missed being this close to him. Jon continued to kiss her, his tongue glided tenderly over her mouth; his breath so sweet intoxicated her.
Loving her taste, his kisses quickened, their breathing; although shallow, was now in unison.
His kisses now travelled to the nape of her neck. She held onto to him for as long as she could. Never had she ever wanted anyone so badly.
His hand went underneath hers touching her firm breast. Swiftly, she lifted her shirt off and threw it carelessly on the bed.
The tears of sadness had seemingly been replaced by urgency and hunger.
Jon pushed her down on the carpet. Dorothea buried herself into his chest. The smells of both sweat and sandalwood continued to consume her.
Involuntarily her hand traced around his chest. His hand covered hers, letting her feel his heart beat wildly. It was so loud that he thought it would leap out of this chest.
His kisses went down upon her chest and down her stomach.
The two of them felt so desperate, that she lifted her hips towards his, thrusting slowly. She couldn’t help but to beg for release.
Moving rhythmically with her, Jon loved the feeling of them together.
“Please Jon. “ Dorothea cried.
With one swift movement, he pulled own her sweats, and entered her. The swiftness combined with the sudden fullness of what he done made them both gasp for air. He braced his hands on either side of the floor. They began to pump slowly, familiarizing themselves with their body rhythm.
Jon continued to straddle the floor, thrusting endlessly inside her. He missed this with her; he needed to be even closer to her. He lifted her hips to his. She cried out in pleasure. He began to moan. His thrusts had begun to get more frenzied.
“Oh Jon…Oh...” said Dorothea pumping just as quickly as him now. He began to slow down a bit, she watched Jon lift his head as he as slowly came inside her. The blue eyes that were full of anger only minutes before had turned to warm and loving.
Dorothea felt her stomach turnover. She began to cry. She got up and put on her shirt and sweatpants. She began to look feverishly around for that shoe. Jon looked puzzled.
“What’s wrong?” he asked her. Raking his hand over his hair. “ I missed you so much.” She cried.
“I’m here.” He said tenderly. “I’m still Jonny; you’re Jonny. “ He told her.
Finding the shoe, she hastily put it in the bag and walked towards the door.
“You’re right.” She said.
“About what?” He asked.
“Just realized at that moment. How much we have grown apart.” She said. “When was the last time we made love like that?” she asked him. Jon looked blankly at her.
“That’s the point. You’re right Jon. It’s time for me to go. “ She told him opening up the door. Jon stared at her. Tears again began to well up in his eyes.
“Bye, I love you.” She said walking out the door.
He continued to stare blankly at the door. He was motionless. Jon loved her, but yet he couldn’t keep up something that wasn’t there anymore. He was nervous, saddened and relieved. Not to mention dead tired.
He lay down on the bed, hoping that sleep could shed not only new light on the past; but pave the way for the future.