Page 14 of The Jaded Notes

“Any songs I write about Livianna are for me to know, not the public.” My heartbeat hammers, control slipping by the second.

This Amanda chick doesn’t stop. “Cash, ‘Stripped’ was your breakout hit and was written by you. It’s a beautifully raw love song about how others tore your relationship apart. Many have speculated it was about your ex.

“I can only assume that since you wrote ‘Stripped’ a while ago and ‘Packed Train’ was written recently, your feelings about her have changed quite a bit.”

That does it.

“I’m out!” I rip off my headphones and storm out of the room.

There’s no way I’m gonna let someone else prey on me. I have the power to stop this. And for fucking once, I’m not gonna sit around and take it. It’s just one more strike on the “uncooperative” tally.

Why the fuck did I sell that song? Why do I always do something stupid?

Amanda wanted to stir up a scandal, and fuck if she didn’t deliver. The words to “Packed Train” run through my head as I march to the elevator.

Yeah, I was the first to hit that, called it divine.

Now I go through bodies, crossing all lines.

No backward glance. No midnight call.

You thought I’d fall, but I stand tall.

Yeah, you think you’ve got me figured out.

But I’m a storm women can’t live without.

Feel my fire, hear my sound.

Watch me rise. I won’t back down.

Your sheets still hum my every groove.

While some stranger fakes the moves I proved.

You lie there like it’s all cool, but we both know it’s all a ruse.

Cuz it’s my name on your lips. Yeah, it’s me you choose.

Ten miles deep in this sex-school grind.

Lessons learned, baby, I don’t mind.

I’m on a packed train of lace, leather, and fire.

No stops for has-beens and liars.

Packed train full of satin and skin.

With a rhythm of sin and the hunger to win.

Nooo, babe. I won’t slow down, not for you, not ever again.

Ohhh, babe. I’m speeding through a world where love is pretend.

No more room, no seats for sale.

Just smoke, steel, and a kiss farewell.