She had hair flowing over her shoulders like silk that bounced as she walked. Short shorts that made her long legs look even longer, and a skimpy little crop top, showing off some premium tits. She walked straight toward me and sat herself on my knee. I’d never met her before but she looked familiar. I think she might’ve been a model.
She didn’t talk, just fastened her lips onto mine. A few of the guys whooped and called but, for all that she was a looker, she had no technique. All tongue and brute force, no subtlety. Also, she had a faint taste of fish, like she’d been eating cat food.
When she stopped, I noticed those two fans standing near me. For some reason, it made me feel ashamed. Shame was a pretty unknown quantity in my life normally. I had no time for that shit. The blonde one looked disappointed though, and even though I shouldn’t have cared one tiny bit, I really didn’t want to disappoint her.
“Thanks for the party,” the blonde one said.
She didn’t look at me though. She kept her eyes on the door.
“Hey, guys, have I introduced my friends… ah…” I’d forgotten their names. No, I remembered. “Field and Flower? They are big fans of ours.”
The blonde kind of winced. “It’s Daisy. Daisy and Meadow.”
“I was close though.” I grinned but she didn’t grin back.
The leggy model chick still sat on my knee. “Well, bye then, if you’re going.”
I felt bad for the two of them so I slid the fish mouth off me and stood up. Well, I tried to stand up. The booze hit me as I stood and the room spun. I put my hand out to steady myself, reaching for the nearest solid surface. I think I grabbed one of the girls. I wanted to walk them out, be all polite and that kind of shit but I couldn’t walk. Hell, I’d be lucky not to throw up.
And they’d already seen me pissing.
Ha, that was funny.
“Don’t tell anyone about the pissing,” I said. But I must’ve said it louder than I intended. People looked at me. “Private joke.”
I think that all came out a bit slurred and wrong. Hopefully no one understood.
That ball sack journo came over though. He looked like he was going to ask the chicks about it. That guy bugged me. He bugged me so much. Stupid questions. Stupid interviews.
I didn’t mean to hit him, I just wanted him to go away. I swung and he kind of moved forward as I gained momentum. Next thing I knew, he was sprawled out on the ground and someone led me away. I turned back to check out my work. Nice going, the dude was out cold.
Chapter 6.Daisy
This day would go down as one of the greatest days in my life ever. Not only had I gotten to meet Devon, he’d personally invited us to go drinking backstage with him. And, if I ever doubted that it really happened, I had those photos on Meadow’s phone.
Once we got to the party room, Devon wandered off. Of course I couldn’t expect too much of his attention. We were nobodies and these other people were probably his friends. Meadow and I grabbed drinks and sat in a corner. My plan had pretty much ended there.
“So, what do we do now?” I asked.
“Enjoy the free booze and check out hot rockers,” she replied. I noticed she had her eye on Brett, the drummer.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t take my eyes off Devon, even if that did make me seem a bit freakish. I wanted to burn this whole night into my brain, recording it permanently with my retinas. I’d never get a chance like this again. Admiring someone from afar is great but admiring them from across the room is even better.
I tried to take in everything. The way his hand held the vodka bottle with his fingers splayed, the twitch at the corner of his mouth when someone said something that amused him, the way he sat with his legs sprawled.
The fact that I’d seen his cock didn’t even register on my brain. It was too huge, too immense. Not his cock, the seeing of it. Although, size-wise, it wasn’t too shabby either.
I shook myself to stop my thoughts. I could not be sitting in the same room as him, thinking about his cock. That was just dirty and wrong. I had to focus on the way his hair curled onto his face, the strong jawline — there was some tension there, even though he tried to keep things friendly. He leaned back on the sofa, interlocking his fingers and stretching his arms over his head. When he did that, a peek of his stomach showed. Oh, that stomach, those abs.
Then he leaned forward, grabbing the bottle again. He really did drink a lot. I wouldn’t judge him though. Maybe there was a reason for it. Maybe he didn’t normally drink like that.
My heart lurched when a strange woman entered the room. She was everything I wasn’t. Tall and sleek, like a greyhound, wearing skimpy little shorts. The whole outfit left nothing to the imagination but her boobs surely weren’t real. I wore my trusty old jeans and a band t-shirt. Not even a cute, fitted shirt but a men’s one that was a few sizes too big. I had my hair scraped back into a ponytail and the makeup that I’d put on would’ve sweated off my face long ago.
I’d dressed to be part of the crowd. I wanted to be comfortable and have a good time, with no intention of getting backstage to seduce rock stars. This chick though, her intentions were all about seduction. She plonked herself down on Devon’s knee and began sucking his face. It was heartbreaking to watch. All my fantasies and daydreams shattered as I realised that I’d never be that girl. This was as close to Devon as I’d ever get, closer than I ever thought realistic but still a million miles from what I wanted.
Without me saying a word, Meadow rubbed my arm.
“Wanna get out of here?” she said. “These rockers are getting boring and they are nearly out of booze.”
I nodded. Things were going to get much more heated with that chick on Devon’s knee and I didn’t want to be sitting around watching it. I’d rather go home and nurse my injured pride.
I got up and dusted myself off.
“We should say goodbye,” I said. “It’s only polite.”
“Are you sure you want to interrupt that?”
I didn’t and I didn’t want to linger where I wasn’t wanted. I’d say a quick goodbye, then leave. The Devon that I’d seen tonight did not match the Devon in my mind and I needed to rearrange the pieces of my dream. There was no insta-love, no being whisked away. I was still ordinary me and he was still rock star him.
I don’t know why people deserve more in this world because they are born better-looking. It’s just a freak of genetics, but that’s the way the world worked and nothing would ever change that.
As I got closer to Devon, I could see how unfocused his eyes were. He’d drunk a helluva lot. He held onto the girl’s waist but it seemed more to steady himself than with any lust.
I cleared my throat, trying to get his attention. The three other guys around him looked up, and that made me super self-conscious.
“Thanks for the party,” I said. That came out wrong. I should’ve said thanks for inviting us or something. I wasn’t good at this.
He introduced us to his friends, getting our names wrong. I wasn’t sure if that was on purpose, being nasty, or not. Surely not. He was drunk and had forgotten. I corrected him without thinking. After all, it didn’t matter. It’s not like we’d ever meet again. The sparkling promise of the night no longer glittered.
He went to stand up, moving the girl off his knee, and stumbled. He grabbed my arm. I wanted to reach for him but the girl already looked at me with mocking in her eyes. I just needed to escape.
Then he mentioned the pissing. Hell, why did he do that? He should’ve been embarrassed by that, not me. I hadn’t asked to see him piss. Faces turned to us. God, I hoped people didn’t think I’d been the one pissing.
A guy moved in closer and I tried to leave but Devon’s hand was still on my arm. I thought he stumbled when I moved but he was too fast. My mind didn’t compute until I saw the guy fall to the ground. Even in his drunken state, that was a mighty solid punch from Devon.
People swarmed around. Someone grabbed Devon. The whole atmosphere turned from fun to serious.
People backed away.
“Let’s get going,” Meadow said. “I don’t want to be involved in this.”
At first, I’d thought the punch was part of the backstage antics. Guys do that kind of thing. But the guy on the ground didn’t move. Blood covered his face. A few of the staff gathered around him and others escorted Devon from the room. Devon shouted something as he left but it wasn’t coherent. Within minutes, the party fell apart.
I followed Meadow out of the room wondering what the hell just happened. Devon had to have his reasons for acting like that. He hadn’t seemed angry or upset until that guy approached him, then he’d just snapped. I’d never know enough to work out what happened.
Then things got more crazy. A couple of guys had out cameras but security had whisked Devon off so fast.
“Come on, we need to GO!”
Meadow grabbed me and we took off in the same direction Devon had gone. Without saying a word, we both knew we’d never find our way out of there otherwise.
Luckily, we wore sensible shoes. Not good for seducing rock stars but good for running. I could hear people behind us. We’d caught up to Devon and his manager by the time we got to the door. The four of us all seemed to hurl through it together.
I’m not sure what happened next. Devon had somehow gotten his limbs entangled running down that ramp. Next thing, his arms were around me. I grabbed him so he didn’t face plant at the bottom of the ramp. My first instinct was to protect his face.
The two of us half-ran, half-fell to the bottom of the ramp and somehow ended up backed against the wall of the venue. Me, flat against the wall, Devon with his arms around me. The perfect moment, the moment of my dreams, except my back hurt like a bastard from that stumble down the ramp.
Before I had the presence of mind to make the most of this opportunity, a camera clicked. One of those pesky reporters had beaten us outside.
So, that’s how it happened. That’s how I woke up to find photos of Devon and I all over the Internet with me being named his “mystery” woman. I looked like hell in those photos, hell with crazy hair and smudged makeup, but holy shit, those were photos of me WITH DEVON!
Chapter 7.Devon
This place wasn’t so fancy, to be honest. I wasn’t sure why the manager had picked it. There had to be more upmarket places around. Pete had said this lawyer was good though. I wondered how good they could be if they didn’t have a shiny, expensive office building but maybe they were just cheapskates.
Or maybe it was some deadbeat relative of Pete’s. Would he do that to me? If I got jail time, it’d be his career on the line too.
It seemed ridiculous for that journo to make a fuss about a tiny little punch. Why didn’t he just hit back? Was he even a man? Take your punches and move on, that was my motto.
Shit, I was hungover though. I’d played the show, then spent the next day in bed, alone, in my new apartment. Even with a day of sleeping it off, my head punished me. I couldn’t drink like I used to.
A bunch of mishmash chairs sat around a cheap coffee table covered in dog-eared magazines. I picked up one of the gossip mags and flicked through it. It was a few years old. It had a photo of me with some girl. I had no idea who she was. Weird, that I’d be walking with my arm around someone that I had no recollection of. I had no idea where it’d even been taken. Was my life just a blur of girls and drinking and music? I guess it was. I guess I wasn’t too upset by that.
A kid of about sixteen sat opposite me. She stared at me through a mop of black hair. Her face was all Goth-white and panda eyeliner. She knew who I was but thought it’d be uncool to say anything. She had the sense to wear headphones. I should’ve brought something along to listen to and block out the world. She sat at one end of a sofa and a woman in a business suit sat at the other end, as far away as possible, as though they didn’t want to admit they knew each other. Mother and daughter, for sure.
At least she hadn’t whipped out her phone to take photos of me. The last thing I needed was pics of me sitting in the lawyer’s office floating around online.
I wondered what she was here for. Starting fires, I bet. She had that look about her. I could see her riding her bike out to some deserted barn and watching in glee as the place burnt down. When I thought about it, the idea held some appeal. Why had I never done that as a kid?
Troubled kids, who’d want to deal with them. Get them talking and you’d have a whole disgusting can of worms to deal with. All that repressed emotion and stuff going on their heads. I liked kids well enough, when they were fans and kept their distance but, up close, they were a bit frightening.
A couple of times, teenage fans had gotten backstage. Not just regular fans who wanted a photo and autograph, but girls who had issues. Total obsession issues, with the target being me. I like being obsessed over as much as the next guy but this was way over the line.
That line is pretty much the point that might involve physical damage to me. Whoa, the intensity of them. They’d declare undying love, then it’d be tears, the next minute some clumsy attempt at seduction. A whole world of trouble brewing just under the surface. They’d build up a fantasy about how I was and our lives together. Fair enough, I guess that was only human. But, for some, the walls between that fantasy and reality had crumbled down.
It could get really scary. Tex had that stalker fan who’d even attacked Ruby and she’d been an adult, in age anyway, not a teenager. At least my stalkers hadn’t gone that far.
Don’t talk to them, and for fuck sake, never, ever touch them. That was my motto. I got security or management to deal with them as fast as I could.
“But you understand me like no one else does…” they’d say.
“Yeah, well come back in a few years,” I’d answer.
Then they’d thrash around as they got carried out. It didn’t take much for that insane type of love to turn to hate and, when that happened, I could get seriously hurt.
I’d had enough of that screw-up intensity in my life, back when I was the same age and actually thought it meant something. Hell, I probably was worse than any of them. Everything had been so immediate back then.
She’d annoyed me to begin with. Too young and too silly. In the middle of rehearsal, she’d decide that Tex wasn’t paying her enough attention, so she’d get angry at him. Or do stupid things. Threw balled-up paper at him or flick rubber bands.
He’d roll his eyes. I’d have slapped her.
“Are you sure you want to be hanging around here, Jules? You should be at home, doing your homework.”
Tex had some crazy idea that he’d send Julie to college and she’d make something of her life. The idea was crazy because any fool could see she had zero interest in that kind of thing. She wasn’t academically-minded, not one bit. She’d been sharper than any girl I’d ever known though. But for all her front, Julie had serious self-doubts. I never even realised that until long after she’d died. She always acted so cocky and tough. She wasn’t tough though.
Julie had been troubled. Hell, she could’ve written the book on troubled teens, the how-to guide. She’d been through far too much, far too young. Their parents had been fucked up and after they died, her and Tex lived in even more fucked-up foster homes. Then he’d gotten out and taken her with him.
He’d worked a ton of jobs. Anything that paid money and was legal. While I played music for kicks, he had to pay rent, put food on the table and all that other adult shit.
Also, Julie had to go to school, that was essential, or they’d have taken her off him. But she hadn’t grasped that.
“School’s boring,” she’d say.
So, Tex would have to leave work to find her and drag her back to class. Or she’d be caught fighting and he’d be called in. I think the only reason they didn’t put her back in foster care was that she was a bit old and they didn’t know what to do with her. It meant Tex lost every job he’d ever had. Sometimes he’d last a month, sometimes only a few days, but you could bet eventually they’d sack him
. It all came back to the same thing.
I’d always thought of her as a huge pain in the butt and pretty much ignored her. It was Tex’s band and he had the drive to get to the big time, so having his kid sister hanging around was part of the deal but I didn’t like it.
A few years later though, when she decided she wanted me to notice her, she really made sure of it. We’d just signed up for our first tour, not headlining but doing support. It’d be massive. Excitement buzzed around the rehearsal studio. We were on fire, that’s for sure.
We took a break and I headed down the hall to the bathroom. Julie hadn’t been around much at that time. I had no idea why, didn’t care. I was just happy that she wasn’t messing shit up.
When I came out of the bathroom, she was waiting for me. She leaned against one wall but had her leg on the opposite wall so I couldn’t pass. A long leg, covered in torn fishnets. With her short skirt hiked up, it wasn’t hard to figure out what she was looking for.
“Congratulations,” she said.
She shot me a look that left with me with no question of what she was thinking. I tried to brush by, knowing that the only thing she had to offer me was trouble. She caught hold of me though.
“That’s not very friendly.” She pouted.
Her hold on my arms wasn’t firm but I made no effort to get away. She wanted something? Well, I’d give it to her. I pinned her against the wall and pressed my lips against hers. I figured I’d kiss her with such intensity, she’d go running. Whoa, that came back to bite me on the arse. She kissed back, all wound-up passion and urgent needs.
It was on. From that moment, to the day she died, no other woman existed for me. It was all fireworks and craziness. I couldn’t keep my hands off her.
At first, we tried to hide things from Tex but that was impossible. A blind man would have seen the way we looked at each. Tex didn’t approve but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t kick me out of the band, not with the tour about to start.
Bad for You (Fallen Star Book 4) Page 3
