Hating the Rock Star

by Hamel, B. B.

  Nathan’s right, I don’t know what my deal is. Normally I’d be all over these girls, probably trying to get my dick sucked before going out on stage. Nothing like coming in a groupie’s mouth just before you go sing in front of thousands of screaming people.

  Even that doesn’t appeal to me right now.

  I sigh. Maybe I’m losing my edge. Normally I’d get hype before a show, start to get excited, but tonight… I’m just flat. Neutral. I’m happy to finally start touring some new material for once, get back out on the road and on the stage, but I’m not feeling that thrill.

  “Cheer up, man.” Chase sits down next to me. His girl frowns at him from across the room.

  “I’m fine,” I grumble. “Why do you guys keep checking on me?”

  “Because you look like a little baby that just had his binky taken away.”

  “Oh, fuck off, dick.”

  “Just saying.” He grins at me. “We all know what you’re missing.”

  “What? Crack cocaine?”

  “Nah. You just need your—”

  I don’t hear what he says next. It’s like the oxygen in the room gets sucked out in one giant rush. The world breaks down into a single point as Grace steps into the world.

  She looks fucking incredible.

  I knew she was pretty. Beautiful, even. Real fuckable. But holy shit. She’s wearing this dress, this fucking dress, lacy sleeves and skirt and a solid middle. It hints at cleavage, just barely suggests it. Her legs are long and smooth and her hair’s down in this absolutely fantastic cascade around her shoulders.

  Holy fucking shit. She looks beautiful.

  Chase is saying something else. I finally look at him. “Huh?”

  He grins and follows my gaze. Grace is standing in the doorway, frowning at the crowd of people.

  “Ah, there we go.” He stands up. “Problem solved.”

  “What?”

  He just walks away and I’m left there, dumbfounded. I stare as Grace walks into the room, spots me, and comes in my direction.

  She’s gliding like a fucking angel. All the other groupies pale in comparison, and there are some beautiful girls in this room. Grace just takes it to another level, makes my fucking blood boil, my cock get hard.

  I remember all over again why I decided to fucking marry her.

  “Hey,” she says, standing in front of me, arms crossed. I’m staring up at her and she just frowns. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” I say, blinking and getting myself together. “You look good.”

  “Yeah?” She looks down at herself, blushing a little. “I may have… gone overboard.”

  “Overboard?”

  “Your card.” She pulls it out from the bag hung over her shoulder. “Here.”

  “Oh, shit. Thanks.” I slip it into my pocket. “Am I poor now?”

  “Probably.” She sits down in the spot Chase just vacated. “I should probably apologize for how much I spent, but I really don’t want to.”

  I laugh softly. “You don’t have to. I’m sure I can afford it.”

  She nods a little but doesn’t look at me. “So, is it always like this?”

  “Like what?”

  She gestures at the crowd. “It’s like a party in here. With a lot of girls.”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s usually like this. Especially the first night.”

  “Lucky you, then.”

  I look at her, trying to read her expression, but it’s carefully neutral.

  “Not really. Lucky Landon and Chase, though.” The two guys are in the thick of it, drinking and laughing with the girls.

  She cracks a little smile. “They do seem to have fun.”

  “Landon especially.” I watch as he guzzles a new bottle of champagne before passing it to his girl.

  “Are you nervous?”

  The question catches me off guard. I’ve played so many shows now that nobody thinks to ask anymore.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I am.”

  She looks at me finally, mildly surprised. “Really? I was just asking to have something to say.”

  “I get nervous before every show.”

  She turns her body toward me, her back straight. I want to get her to loosen up a little bit, but I can tell that’s probably hard for her.

  “Haven’t you played a million of these by now?”

  “Sure, and at bigger venues, too.” I just shrug. “I still get nervous.”

  “Huh. Does it last the whole time?”

  “No,” I say softly. “When that first note hits and I start singing… it goes away.” I stare at her, but past her, seeing all those times I’ve been on stage. “It’s a weird feeling. One second, I’m terrified. All those people, staring at me…. Holding me up to this standard… and then, gone. It all disappears. And I’m just doing what I do.”

  She frowns a little as I focus on her pretty eyes again. “You’re a performer. It’s what you do.”

  “I guess that’s one explanation. I like to think it’s magic.”

  That finally gets a smile. “Magic? Don’t tell me you’re one of those.”

  “One of what?”

  “Oh, you know.” She waves her hand in the air. “You think the muse speaks to you, that sort of thing.”

  I laugh at her. “Of course I am. I make music for a living. I have to be a little superstitious.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to be anything.”

  “Maybe, but I am.” I lean toward her. “Don’t tell me you’re a skeptic.”

  “Of you? Most definitely.”

  “Ouch.” I’m grinning though, and her smile’s getting bigger. “Come on, you don’t think there’s something at least a little, I don’t know, unexplainable about creativity?”

  She hesitates a second. “Maybe,” she admits. “But magic? Muses? Not for me.”

  “Not really for me, either. Except for when I’m on that stage and I just… change. And all that bad shit goes away.” I cock my head at her. “If that’s not magic, I don’t know what is.”

  She looks confused and is about to respond, but Karl Bell suddenly bursts into the room.

  Karl is pint-sized. He’s five foot four, barrel chested, balding on the top, and hairy everywhere else. He’s like a tiny gorilla, if gorillas can be charming.

  He’s also our manager.

  “Boys!” he shouts. “Boys! Gather up, you little cocksuckers!”

  The crowd looks at him, still murmuring. I stand and glance back at Grace.

  “Who’s that?” she asks.

  “That’s our manager.”

  “Oh.” She blinks. “I didn’t realize you had one.”

  “He hates traveling with us, says we’re a bunch of fucking dickheads. Which is true.”

  “Oh.” Another little smile.

  “Anyway, him being here means we’re about to go on, so. Get a good spot.”

  “Okay. Well. Break a leg.”

  I grin at her. “See you later.”

  “Gather up, you bitch boys!” Karl shouts. Nathan sidles up next to me.

  “Can we fire him?” Nathan asks softly.

  “Only when he starts to fail us,” I say, sighing.

  Nathan grumbles, but doesn’t argue.

  We form up with the rest of the band. Karl goes over what we’re doing for the night, but I’m only half listening. I keep glancing back at Grace, and she’s watching me carefully.

  We’re ushered away. It’s always like this. We’re caught up in a stream, everything out of our control. When it’s time, we walk out onto stage, and the whole place explodes.

  Screaming, shouting. The lights blinding. We take our positions. Landon grins at me. I feel fucking sick.

  Nathan sets himself up. I slide my guitar over my shoulder and nod at him.

  Chase lingers back toward Landon.

  I look back at the boys.

  Landon winks at me. “ONE, TWO, THREE.”

  Music breaks from our hands, our bodies, flooding the hall with rhythm and noise
and everything else disappears when I open my mouth to sing.

  7

  Grace

  I make it up into the balcony just in time to witness magic.

  It’s hard to explain what a crowd does to a person. There’s an energy in crowds, especially at a show like this. Everyone’s feeding off each other, the energy slowly rising. When Slide steps out onto the stage, the energy seems to go totally insane.

  I can feel it. Even though I was just backstage with those guys, watching Landon chug champagne, Chase flirt with girls, Nathan brood over his guitar, and Joss stare at me like he doesn’t know what to do with me, they’re suddenly inhuman.

  They’re gods, they’re stars. They’re magic.

  I watch as they set up, get in position. Landon counts them down and the music spills out, pouring in waves.

  It’s the first track from the album, one of my favorites, catchy and beautiful and raw all at once.

  I know Joss is nervous. I know he had the jitters just minutes ago.

  When he opens his mouth though, that’s all gone. He’s not the same Joss from the green room. He’s something more.

  He transforms in front of my eyes, and I don’t know what to call it.

  Magic maybe really is the best word for it.

  This is why I wanted to get into the music business. There’s a lot of crap that goes along with all this, like in any business. Most people don’t see behind the scenes, where all the super boring hard work happens.

  But in this business, all that hard work turns into… this. Moments like this.

  Standing on a balcony, watching your favorite band play their new songs for the first time.

  It’s incredible. For the duration of the show, I totally forget all about the ring on my finger. I forget about being married, about being forced to come on this trip. I forget about Joss and everyone else. They’re not people anymore. I’m not Grace anymore.

  I’m a part of this crowd, the music, the show.

  I lose myself, and it feels incredible.

  I don’t know how much time passes. A couple hours, at least. They finish their set, play their encore, the most popular song from the last album, and it’s over. The house lights come up. The mood slowly shifts, the energy slowly dissipates.

  The spell breaks.

  I’m Grace again.

  I want to claw it back. I want that feeling again, almost desperately. People are filing out around me, rushing out to their cars, ready to go back to their lives. I have no life to go back to. I just want that moment, the lights down low, Slide playing their music.

  That feeling. That’s what I live for.

  I stand and sigh. I head back through the venue, showing the guards my backstage pass. I find the green room and slip in quietly.

  The guys are celebrating. Girls are everywhere, laughing and screaming. I see someone snort some coke. Alcohol is flowing freely.

  I don’t see Joss anywhere.

  “Hey! You!” Chase comes over. “What did you think?”

  He’s sweating and his eyes are huge. He’s clearly still riding that high.

  “It was amazing,” I say honestly. “Seriously, unbelievable. You guys were great.”

  “Shit, thanks,” he says, laughing. “We made a ton of mistakes. We’ll be even tighter next time. But god damn, that first show… it’s always the best.”

  “You really were awesome.”

  “Thanks, Grace. Joss is around here somewhere.” He gets pulled back into the crowd and I let him go.

  I wander toward a couch against the far wall. There’s a bucket with some beers inside it, so I grab one and crack it open. I’m not sitting there long before the short hairy man comes barreling over, flopping down next to me with a groan.

  “I’m too old for this,” he says. “Seriously, way too old. This is a young man’s game.” He looks at me sideways. Karl is almost handsome close up, with dark eyes and thick eyebrows. “Who are you?”

  “Grace,” I say, blinking.

  He frowns. “Grace… I’ve seen your name. They brought you along, didn’t they? Get you a room at the hotel?”

  “Joss dragged me along.” I decide to leave out the marriage part.

  “Huh,” he grunts. “Not like him. Joss usually finds his girls on the road and leaves them behind when he goes, if you know what I mean.”

  I wince a little bit. I keep hearing about Joss’s reputation, and I can’t help but wonder…

  “They were good,” I say, changing the subject.

  “They were,” he agrees. “They always are. It’s why I’m still doing this.”

  “What do you think of the new record?”

  “Magic,” he says, grinning.

  There’s that word again. “Yeah, I agree,” I say.

  “Look, I don’t know what Joss wants with you, but can I be blunt?”

  I nod a little. He leans toward me and his happy demeanor suddenly shifts. He’s serious, eyes squinting at me, slight frown on his lips.

  “Don’t fuck this up, okay?” he says softly. “Don’t fucking Yoko Ono this goddamn group. I don’t know why Joss is dragging you around like a pet, but fucking hell, girl, if you ruin these boys, I’ll ruin you. There’s enough shit between them as it is. This whole thing, it’s an ice sculpture in the desert. You get me?”

  “Uh, okay,” I say. “I’m not… I won’t. I’m not here for that.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He leans back with a groan. “Anyway, good show tonight.” He struggles up to his feet. “I’m getting out of here. Don’t let them stay out too late. Or do, whatever, not like you can stop it.”

  He shuffles off, passing through the crowd, and I watch him go.

  What did he mean by all that? Ice sculpture in the desert? Shit between them already? I feel like he just dropped a bomb and walked away, and now I’m stuck trying to pick up the pieces.

  “Grace!”

  I don’t have time to obsess, though. Joss is walking over toward me, a big smile on his face.

  I stand, smiling back despite myself. I want to be pissed, want to be angry. He did blackmail me into coming on this stupid tour, after all.

  But… it’s hard. Because he’s not Joss the asshole, at least not just that guy. He’s also that incredible man from the show just a little while ago.

  He’s sweating slightly, grinning just like Chase. “What did you think?”

  “Amazing.”

  He pulls me into a hug, which surprises me. He’s been so stingy with physical contact, although he hasn’t hesitated to make jokes at my expense.

  I flash back to that night, to our wedding. To that kiss, the way it felt, shivers down my spine…

  He breaks away. “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “You guys killed. Seriously, it was amazing.”

  He laughs. “We made some mistakes but overall, a good first night.”

  “Well, I was impressed. And the new album is really awesome.”

  “Thanks.” He looks genuinely delighted. “Hey, so, I wanted to talk to you about—”

  He doesn’t finish his sentence. This willowy girl, reed thin and almost ethereal, wearing an oversized sweater and short cutoff jeans walks over and touches his arm.

  “Hi, Joss,” she says in this sultry voice.

  It throws him off. “Uh, hi, Justine. Didn’t know you were here.”

  “Miss your first show? Never.” She leans forward and kisses his cheeks.

  I’m burning. I don’t know why. Jealousy floods me as he puts his hand on the small of her back and smiles. I don’t know what he’s doing, but he’s mine, he’s my husband, he’s—

  What am I doing? He’s nothing to me.

  Justine smiles at me. “Hi there. I’m Justine.”

  “Hi,” I say, shaking her hand like a moron.

  “Justine, this is Grace.”

  “Pretty name,” she says.

  So she’s nice and she’s gorgeous. Great.

  “Thanks,” I say. “My mom gave it to me.”

/>   Justine laughs and Joss grins. She turns back to him and touches his arm again. “Listen, can I talk to you? Please?”

  He glances at me, hesitating. “Can we talk later?”

  “No,” she says. “I’m sorry. It’s important.”

  He hesitates another second. Clearly he doesn’t want to go.

  “All right,” he says finally. “Lead the way.” He shoots me an apologetic look.

  “Nice to meet you,” Justine says to me.

  “I’ll be back.” He follows her away, back through the crowd, and out of the room.

  I stand there and watch them go. Every little comment about all the women he’s fucked comes back to me and I have to shove down my jealousy like a disease.

  I don’t know why I feel this way. He’s nothing to me. I hate him. But he has a way about him, a spell…

  I might be falling under it.

  “He does that, you know.”

  I nearly jump. Nathan cocks his head at me as he walks over.

  “What?”

  “Wanders away with the latest toy.” He tosses a look where Joss and Justine just disappeared.

  “Oh, are they…?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe. Although I doubt it.” He looks at me, face a little sardonic. “Been there, done that, so why bother again?”

  I feel a little sick. “Oh. He slept with her, before.”

  “Yep,” he says. “Most of these girls in here too, I bet.” He stretches a little bit. Of all the guys, he looks the least excited.

  Actually, he looks downright tired.

  “That’s just Joss. You get used to it.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Or, you won’t. Good thing you’re divorcing him, right?”

  “Right.” I feel stupid, numb. I’m only capable of one-word answers.

  “That offer still stands,” Nathan says softly. “Say the word and I’ll get you home.”

  “Thanks.”

  Without another word, I turn away from him. I walk fast, out of the green room, and toward the exit.

  I’m spinning. The spell’s broken. The magic’s gone.

  Joss is just the player asshole rock star again, and I feel like a moron.

  8

  Joss

  I look at my credit card statement online and can’t help but grin.