Hating the Rock Star

by Hamel, B. B.

  I know he’s right. He’s the only sensible one in the group, the only one holding us together. He can be high and mighty sometimes, but I know that deep down, Nathan means well.

  I still hate him for it.

  “Fucking shit,” I say. “Why can’t you just fucking—”

  A voice cuts me off.

  “Hi, guys.”

  We all look over. Grace is standing in the entrance, smiling awkwardly. The argument abruptly stops and I stand.

  “There you are,” I say. “We were getting worried.”

  “I, uh…” She trails off and shrugs. “Here I am.”

  “Welcome aboard the tour to hell,” Landon croaks.

  Chase grins at her and Nathan just turns back to his laptop. I walk over and take her hand.

  “Come on,” I say softly. “You can sit over here.” I lead her to the seat next to me.

  “Uh, thanks,” she says, sitting, and leans closer to me, speaking in low tones so the others won’t hear. “Look, I’m only doing this so that you’ll—”

  “I know,” I say back. “At the end, an annulment. Assuming you still want one.”

  She gives me a look, but doesn’t say anything.

  I grin at her. “Strap in,” I say. “This is going to be fun.”

  She puts on her seatbelt as the plane’s door closes and we get ready for departure, a grim look on her face.

  5

  Grace

  I spend the flight ignoring my husband.

  My husband.

  The words still feel weird. I sneak into the bathroom and look into the mirror.

  My husband. I say it out loud, whisper it, mouth it. My husband.

  It’s almost impossible to rectify the handsome, beautiful rock star sitting near me with those words. He smirks, laughs, jokes with his bandmates. He’s like a regular guy, except there’s something magnetic about him.

  I think everyone can sense it. Even the flight attendant, a really pretty, thin brunette girl, keeps giving him these looks. He seems oblivious to it all, but I notice it.

  Everyone wants to be around Joss.

  He’s the sun, and we’re his planets orbiting around him. He’s bright in the way that I’m not. But just being around him makes me feel a little bit shinier.

  Everyone wants his attention. I can see it in the way they subtly turn in his direction, speak his name, catch his eye.

  Everyone except for Nathan.

  I don’t understand the animosity between them, but I know I won’t figure it out on this flight. I don’t even bother paying any attention to it, although that’s a famous relationship. People have been speculating about the two of them for a long time, ever since Slide got huge. Nobody can understand why the lead singer and rhythm guitarist doesn’t get along with the lead guitarist. Why they seem to hate each other, even on stage.

  It’s a mystery, but it doesn’t matter.

  I have bigger problems.

  Joss leans across the aisle. “Having fun?”

  I frown at him. “Not really.”

  “Why not?”

  “I was kidnapped by a bunch of crazy rock stars and held hostage against my will, that’s why.”

  He laughs, genuine delight in his eyes. “Oh, you wish I took you hostage. Then there’d be ropes and gags and all that fun stuff.”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s all there is with you, isn’t it?”

  “Pretty much,” he says. “I know what I’m good at and I stick to it.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s not what you’re getting from me, okay?”

  He goes wide-eyed. “You think… you think I want to fuck you?”

  I’m taken aback. “I, uh, I mean—”

  “You really think I want to fuck you.” He laughs softly, leaning closer. “Listen, sweetheart. When I want to fuck you, I will.”

  “Why am I here then? Why are you making me stay your wife?”

  He just grins at me and turns away. I want to yell but I can feel Nathan’s eyes on us, so I pull myself into a little ball and lean against the window.

  If there’s a silver lining to all of this, it’s that flying in a private plane is really cool.

  And, of course, the fact that my rock star husband keeps giving me these looks that send shivers down my spine.

  * * *

  It’s a hot, muggy afternoon in Philadelphia. Fortunately, the airport is air conditioned. I escape the guys while they wait for the luggage and pull out my phone. I call my boss back at Somesuch, tapping my foot, nervous as hell.

  “What?” Barney Slater is a barrel-chested brute of a man with thin hair and narrow eyes. He’s one of the best known producers in the world.

  “Hi, Mr. Slater. This is Grace Carter, your intern?”

  Short pause. “Grace?”

  “Yes,” I say. “I mean, I was working with Slide last night?”

  “Oh, shit,” he says, recognition coming to him. “Grace, right, hello. How did that go?”

  “Well, that’s what I’m calling about.”

  “You didn’t fuck up the boys, did you?”

  I can’t tell if he’s joking. “Uh, no, sir.”

  “Don’t call me sir,” he says. “What’s going on? Spill it, kid.”

  I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a psychopath, so I just tell the whole story from the start. I can tell he’s annoyed at first but soon he’s dead silent. A few minutes later, I finish, a little breathless, my whole body tense.

  “So… you fucking married Joss Myers, huh?”

  “Yes, sir. I mean, Mr. Slater.”

  He sighs. “Why the fuck are you calling me, then?”

  I blink a little. “Uh, I don’t want to lose my job. Sir. Mr. Slater.”

  He barks a short laugh. “Are you fucking kidding, kid? You’re married to one of our biggest stars. You don’t have to kiss my ass. I should be kissing yours.”

  I stare at the ground for a second while that sinks in. “No, it’s not like that. I mean, it was a mistake. We don’t want to be married.”

  “Get a divorce. What exactly do you want from me?”

  “Just, uh, I have to go on this tour with the guys. And then he’ll divorce me.”

  “Okay,” he says slowly.

  “And when I’m done, I… I’d like a job, or at least my internship. I guess I’m asking you not to fire me.”

  He laughs again, but this time it’s more rueful. “Okay, kid,” he says finally. “I won’t fire you if you keep those boys happy. Make sure they don’t fuck this tour up. We got a lot riding on it.”

  I take a slow breath and let it out. “I can try.”

  “Don’t try, just do it. Keep them happy and keep them on schedule. If you can do that, shit, you’re not an intern any longer. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I say. “I’ll stay with them, make sure it goes okay.”

  “Keep me updated, kid.”

  “I will.”

  “And Grace—Good luck.” He laughs again. “With your marriage, I mean. Many happy returns.”

  He hangs up the phone.

  I groan a little, slipping my phone back into my bag. He must think I’m the biggest joke in the whole freaking world… and I think he’s right.

  I accidentally married a rock star. I’m his fake wife, his practical joke, his Vegas mistake. He’s dragging me around now because I’m not giving him what he wants, and he thinks he can force it out of me.

  Well, he can’t, and he won’t. I’m not giving in to that asshole.

  Still, I have to keep him happy, and the other guys. If I can keep this tour on schedule, I’ll have a real job waiting for me. A real job in the industry working for a record label I really love.

  It’s a dream come true. Minus the ring on my finger.

  “You okay?”

  I look up and Nathan’s standing there, a little frown on his face. I glance over his shoulder and the other guys are still grabbing their bags.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, composing myself. He hasn’
t said more than two words to me since this all started.

  “Look, about Joss,” he starts, and stops. He frowns, shuffles his feet. I can’t believe this handsome rock star is acting all bashful. “If you ever want to get out of here, just let me know, okay?”

  “Oh.” I blink, totally surprised. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  “I know he can be a little… intense.” Nathan laughs a little and glances back at Joss, who’s making a joke and hopping up onto the baggage carousel. Some nearby cops are eyeing him a little suspiciously.

  “He’s okay,” I say.

  “He’s not as bad as he seems.”

  I’m surprised to hear Nathan say something nice about Joss. “He can come off a little…”

  “Like a douchebag.” Nathan looks at me and grins. “And he is. Just, I don’t know. He means well. Wants to be better.” His face clouds over again. “He’s just not. Anyway, let me know if you’re sick of all this bullshit. I’ll get you home.”

  “Thanks,” I say again, totally mystified.

  He nods at me and walks off just as Joss comes wandering over.

  “What did Gloomy Gus want?” Joss asks me.

  I shake my head. “Nothing. Just seeing how I’m doing.”

  “And how are you doing, my little wife?” He reaches out and takes my hand, holding it up and inspecting the ring. “From what I can tell, you’re doing pretty good.”

  I pull my hand back. “I’m fine, okay? Let’s just get to the hotel and get you guys ready for the show.”

  He looks a little amused at that. “Yes, ma’am. Are you our tour babysitter now?”

  “Only if you keep acting like a baby.”

  “Oh, feisty. I like it.”

  We join up with the other guys and head out together. There’s a car waiting to pick us up, and it carries us through the city, weaving in and out of traffic.

  I keep avoiding Joss’s eye. Instead, I look out at Philadelphia. It’s a pretty cool city. I’ve never been here before, but I can see why people like it. Big, but not too big, and lots of stuff all over the place. People and cars and restaurants and stores. It’s old, a little dirty, but it has character. I’m charmed by it as soon as we start driving down its narrow, one-way streets.

  The hotel itself is in the center of the city, near City Hall. We pile out and walk into the lobby. I expect there to be paparazzi or fans or something, but it looks like business as usual.

  “Welcome to the road,” Chase says to me. Joss and Landon are joking about something I can’t hear.

  “Thanks,” I say. “I kind of expected, I don’t know, people taking pictures.”

  He grins. “That might happen later, when people start hearing all the tour dates. And only if the new record is any good.”

  “You aren’t sure?”

  He shrugs. “Hard to say. I think it’s good, but I made it.”

  “I haven’t heard it yet,” I admit. “When’s it out?”

  He looks at my watch. “A few hours ago, I think.”

  “Oh, wow. I’ll listen when I get to the room.”

  “Did she just mention a room?” Landon cuts in suddenly. “She’s staying with you, right, Joss?”

  Joss looks thoughtful as we hustle across the lobby. “She is my wife, after all.”

  “Don’t be a dick, Joss,” Nathan says. “Give the girl some space.”

  “I don’t know. Isn’t a wife technically my property?”

  I glare at him and Chase groans. “Bro, you can’t say stuff like that,” he says.

  Joss grins and shrugs. “I’m just kidding around, don’t be so sensitive.”

  “We could always let her decide,” Landon says. “Maybe she wants to stay with her husband. Have a little alone time.” He winks at me.

  “Oh, I get a choice now?” I ask. “I thought I was just property.”

  “Very smart property,” Joss says.

  “I think I want my own room.” I give him a flat glare.

  He grins. “You got it. Anything for my darling wife.”

  I roll my eyes and the guys laugh. Nathan’s smiling despite himself. I don’t know how Joss gets away with it, but even when he’s being a sexist dick, he’s still charming.

  We check in and Joss gets me a room near his. When that’s done, we head upstairs, and I’m thankful when I can disappear into my room for a little privacy.

  I flop onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. This happened so last minute that I don’t even have a change of clothes. I’m here with only what I was carrying like a crazy person. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

  At least I have my credit cards and my phone, although that’s nearly out of battery charge now.

  I roll onto my stomach. I remember what Chase said downstairs about the new album, and I can’t help myself. I use the last bit of my phone’s battery to stream the new Slide record, the one they’ll be playing on tour.

  From the opening chords, it sounds like them… but it doesn’t.

  Joss’s voice is the same, beautiful, full, powerful. But there’s an edge to it, like they took their normal music and made it sharper. Rhythms are faster, almost syncopated at some points, and Nathan’s guitar rips through short little solos and fills while Chase’s bass wanders all around.

  It’s melodic and strange and genuinely really, really good.

  The production is a little different. Their original album was raw, almost amateur, but people loved it anyway. This is cleaner, clearly recorded in a studio.

  That’s the only thing I don’t like about it: they’re missing that raw spark.

  A knock at the door pulls me from listening. I turn off my phone and pull out my earbuds just as my door opens.

  “Hey, what the—”

  Joss bursts into my room. The door shuts behind him.

  “Hey there, wifey.”

  “You can’t just come in here. Who gave you a key?” I glare at him.

  He grins at me. “I’m just making sure you’re settling in.”

  I gesture around me. “All settled. Anything else?”

  “One thing.” He holds something out to me. It takes me a second to realize that it’s a credit card.

  “What’s that?”

  “You need stuff,” he says. “Clothes, toiletries, all that. Go out and get it, and a suitcase.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Are you kidding? Whose card is that?”

  “Mine,” he says. “Seriously. It’s not the label’s, it’s my personal card.”

  “And you’re just… giving it to me?”

  “Sure. Get whatever you want.”

  I arch an eyebrow and take the card. “You sure about that?”

  He grins. “If you have expensive taste, little wife, go wild. You’re married to a rock star now, remember?”

  I stare at him, at a loss for words. He laughs and turns, leaving my room. I want to tell him to give me the key, but I don’t get a chance.

  I’m too busy staring at the card. Joss Myers it says on the front. American Express Black.

  Maybe being married to that jerk might come with some little perks, at least.

  6

  Joss

  Landon shakes up a bottle of champagne. “To making a fucking fortune!”

  He pops the cork, sending it rocketing across the room. Champagne sprays from the bottle and he keeps shaking it, spraying it at the screaming, laughing girls gathered around him.

  I watch from the other side of the room. For once, Nathan and I have the same idea: we both want to stay out of the celebration, at least for now.

  Chase has his arm around a pretty young brunette and when Landon finally stops spraying them down, he kisses this young blonde girl full on the mouth. She laughs and kisses him back as he roars and pours the champagne down his throat like an animal.

  We haven’t even gone on stage yet.

  The green room is packed with people I don’t know. The TLA in Philadelphia is one of the oldest and most popular venues in the area, and we easily sold i
t out. We could be doing stadiums, but it was actually Nathan that insisted on smaller spots.

  I agreed with him, for once. I don’t want to spend this tour singing to anonymous blobs in the distance. I want to see the fans, at least a little bit. The TLA is a great way to start this off.

  It’s a classic theater, mostly in red, with standing room in the front and some balconies toward the back. I’d guess it fits a thousand, maybe more. It’s definitely not the biggest theater in Philly but it’s not the smallest, either.

  Groupies swarm over Landon. “Look at this, bro,” Landon calls over to me. He laughs and shakes the bottle again, spraying the girls.

  Normally, they’d give him shit. But when you’re a rock star at your own gig, you tend to get away with shit like that.

  I give him a grin but go back to staring at my phone. Nathan gives me a quick look, a little confused frown, but I don’t read into that too much.

  I can’t pay attention to all this around me. I don’t know why. I have a beer and it tastes good but that’s all I have a taste for. This tall skinny dyed-blonde comes over to me with a little smile on her face. Her tits are huge and she’s clearly proud of them, considering they’re falling out of her top.

  Normally, I’d be into it. She’s clearly into me as she bends down to say hello. But right now all I want to do is to be left alone.

  “No, thanks,” I say to her.

  She hesitates. “I was just saying hi.”

  “No, thanks,” I repeat.

  She makes a face. “Asshole.” She wanders back into the crowd.

  “What was wrong with that one?” Nathan asks me curiously.

  “Nothing,” I say. “Just not interested.”

  “Pretty face, nice body, huge tits. And throwing herself at you. I mean, you saw the way she was looking at you, right?”

  “I wasn’t interested,” I repeat.

  Nathan shrugs. “Okay, sure, whatever.” He strums his guitar absently. “Just not like you.”

  “Whatever.” I turn back to my phone and drain down half my beer.