Devon sat down beside me, almost touching me again.
“Do you have your phone?” he asked. “You’d better post some more photos online.”
“Huh?”
“You’re my fake girlfriend. That’s your job.”
Oh yeah. I got my phone out and he put his arm around me. That felt real. God, Meadow would be so jealous when she saw these shots. I could never tell her the truth. Well, maybe not never but not for a long time. She’d be more excited than I was because she didn’t know the dream was a lie. I wished Devon would stop reminding me of that.
The real life Devon was much more difficult to handle than the dream one. I had no idea what was going on with him. Hot one minute, cold the next. Obviously, he wanted to hide his feelings for me behind that bastardly front. I just needed to let him know that it wasn’t necessary. I’d drop the fake thing and be his real girlfriend any time.
Chapter 14.Devon
She was so keen. I kind of liked that, even though I knew I should discourage it. This girl, Daisy, had some good points when she wasn’t being crazy or crying. Like, she was easy to tease. Anyone could see she wanted pizza.
After she’d taken the photos, I moved away but I missed the warmth of her. Julie had never been warm. She was never warm enough. She’d always complained about the cold, always shivering. She needed the sun and the heat, sought it out like a lizard did. It was like the spark inside her that should’ve kept her warm had been extinguished.
Not that Daisy could compare to Julie. Julie had been… Julie. The one true love of my life. If I loved someone else, they’d never be Julie.
“So, tell me about yourself?” I asked Daisy, wanting to end the silence in the room.
She blushed. That was another thing I liked about her.
“I’m pretty boring,” she said.
I’d kind of figured that already but I wanted her to talk.
“I grew up in a regular family: Mum, Dad, a younger brother. Had a pretty uneventful life. Meadow and I became friends in high school and we both became FORSAKEN fans not long after. Even then, I thought you were the cool one.”
I nodded. She didn’t have to tell me that. No matter what people thought, Tex had never been cool.
“When I was 16, Meadow and I first got a chance to see you play. It was the highlight of my life. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”
“I bet you never imagined that you’d end up my fake girlfriend.”
She blushed again. Oh, she’d imagined stuff. She’d imagined all kinds of stuff. I was kind of interested in knowing what she’d imagined. I wondered if I encouraged her, if she’d tell me the kinds of sexual fantasies she’d had about me. I bet they were raunchy. Maybe that would take a few more glasses of wine.
“I work as a temp.”
“So, Daisy, what does a temp do?”
“Whatever people want.”
“Like a hooker?”
She almost spluttered out her wine. “Not like a hooker. I type things up and file them and photocopy stuff. It’s not that interesting but it pays the bills.”
She had a faraway look in her eyes, like there was some dream furled up in the back of her mind. Something other than those fantasies she had about me. Something that set her soul on fire but she kept hidden.
“What is it, Daisy?” I asked. I drew out her name and gave her that look that set her panties on fire. She’d not be able to resist me.
“What is what?”
“You want something more than this temp work. What do you dream of doing?”
She shifted in her seat, her arm resting on the back of the sofa. Suddenly something on that fabric caught her attention.
“Nothing.”
That got me intrigued. I had to know now.
“You can tell me,” I said. “I have connections. Maybe I can help you. This arrangement is only going to last three months but you might as well make the most of it. Get it to work for you.”
She gave a tiny shrug. Just a slight movement of her shoulders as though the matter wasn’t even worth a full shrug. Her mouth curled slightly at one corner. She wasn’t going to budge on this.
“What about you?” she asked. “How is the album going?”
Typical diversion tactic. It was odd for me to be with someone who didn’t want to talk about themselves though. Every groupie seemed to have some dream of breaking into something – acting or singing or just being a celebrity. That one chick, I can’t even remember her face but I sure as hell can’t forget the way she raved onto to me about how she wanted to be like the Kardashians. Hours and hours of it, until I threw her out.
“It’s going okay.” That was a lie. “Kind of. Say, what did you think of the show the other night?”
“It was brilliant, of course.” She’d turned back to me, smiling again now.
“Really? You don’t think it was missing anything?”
She tilted her head, thoughts clicking through her brain. I hoped she wasn’t just trying to find the right words to tell me it sucked elephant balls. Not that I cared. Okay, yeah, I cared. She was like a representation of my fans and I needed my fans to love me.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but it seemed like there was something about it… how do I put this? Like the emotional connection was a bit faked. There’s always been an undercurrent of deep sorrow in your songs, even the happy love-love ones. That’s still there but it’s not got the same intensity.”
“You’re holding something back.”
She screwed up her mouth, moving her lips around. She had really sexy lips. I’d not noticed it so much before. Soft lips.
“It was almost like the songs had been written by a Devon impersonator, not by you. Like someone had analysed your songs then tried to write one, rather than being the real thing.”
She’d hit it exactly. That was exactly the problem. That sorrow that Tex said I’d clung to; it was leaving me. I couldn’t hold it tight like I’d done before. I’d found myself going whole days without thinking of Julie, without wondering how she’d think or react in a situation. I didn’t want her to leave me but sometimes now, I couldn’t even remember how she looked. When I did, she was so young. Stuck perpetually in my mind at eighteen years old. Was that wrong and a bit pervy, that I was in love with someone that young at my age? She’d never grow older; we’d never age together.
Daisy gave a little laugh. “Don’t listen to me though. I know nothing about music. I just like listening to it.”
“No, really, you’re right. I’ve asked a heap of people and no one has said anything nearly as real.”
A lock of her blonde hair flopped onto her face. I wanted to twirl it in my fingers. Hell, that was the absolutely last thing I needed to do. I could almost feel how soft and malleable it would be. But I had to stop playing with her emotions. I’d been enough of a bastard to her already. I sat on my hands to control myself and then, luckily, the doorbell rang. The pizza had arrived.
After we’d eaten, I stopped playing around with her and sent her home. I didn’t know if I wanted to protect her or myself at that stage. She paused at the door, as though she wanted me to kiss her goodbye. Her gaze lingered. Her lips would be so sweet. Maybe I should.
No, I most definitely shouldn’t.
“Better get going,” I said. “The driver’s waiting.”
When she’d gone, I got out that bottle of scotch but then put it back in the bar. It’d been a long night and I needed sleep not booze.
Chapter 15.Daisy
I tossed everything I owned onto the bed. I had not one thing appropriate for going to a music awards night. Those women dressed like glamour-pusses. I was more like the big, fat tabby that sits on your lap and sheds hair all over you.
“How can you look so sad when you are dating DEVON? God, Daisy, all of your dreams have come true. And you won’t even tell me about the sex.”
“We haven’t done it yet. I told you that. We’re taking it slow.”
“How do you control
your urges around him? If it were me, I’d have to get straight to the point, on my back with my legs in the air.”
I gulped. I couldn’t let Meadow get anywhere near the truth. I had to control my urges around him. He wanted to tempt me, that much was true, but it wasn’t anything serious. If I took anything he said seriously, I’d look like a fool. He didn’t really want to have sex with me, even if he acted very similar to the way he did in my fantasies at times. That mixture of cockiness with the hurt in his eyes was a lethal combination. It made me forget all my common sense. After the games he played with me the other night, I knew I had to be careful.
“I’m the queen of self-control.”
“I bet you are the only girl in the world that would do that with him. That just proves it.” She nudged some of the clothes over and sat on the bed.
“Proves what?”
“That he loves you.”
I sat down on the bed too, squishing all the clothes, and picked up the coffee Meadow had brought me. It’d gone cold while I was trying all those stupid clothes on but I still drank it.
“Well, he can love me just as I am. I’m not cut out to be one of those girls. I’m the kind of girl who wears jeans and not even stylish, designer jeans at that. Maybe the black dress will do? I’m comfortable in it.”
Meadow picked up the black dress off the pile on the bed. She gave it a look and then tossed it back. Why? I liked the black dress. The black dress had seen me through every social event of my life for the past three years. Which, to be fair, wasn’t that many.
“Look at the magazines. Those girls he’s with, that’s what you need to aspire to be. You are going to some glitzy event. In a private jet. With all the glitzy people. You can’t just turn up in something with food stains on it.”
“You just said he loves me. If he loves me, he loves me like I am.” I knew Devon didn’t love me but I couldn’t say that. I’d not considered the needing to be all glam part of being a fake girlfriend. Even though I had that big lump of cash in my account, I didn’t want to waste it on something I’d never wear again.
“I’m sure he does love you just as you are...”
I sighed. “So, I can wear my jeans then.”
“But it’s not just about him. You’ll be on his arm. You can’t embarrass him. You can’t look like shit with all those cameras flashing.”
“Like shit?”
Wow, Meadow didn’t mince her words.
“You know what I mean. You aren’t the sexy kitten type normally. So, live a little, get a fancy dress. Get your hair done.”
I screwed up my face. I hated people messing with my hair.
“Hell, that reminds me. I have to check in with my peeps.”
“Your ‘peeps’?” Meadow laughed. “Peeps.”
“The fans. They want to know everything. But look at this mess. I’ll look like a total failure.”
“Hey, you know what you need?” she asked.
I could think of quite a few things that came under that category.
“What?” I asked, not really sure if I should open the gates to that answer. Meadow looked a bit scary, like she had something diabolical in mind.
“A makeover.”
I almost choked on my coffee. A makeover? Was this an ‘80s movie with a montage scene? A makeover was the last thing I needed.
“I’m not sure about that.” I knew I needed something but I wasn’t sure that Meadow’s idea of a makeover was it.
“Don’t panic. Nothing too dramatic, but look at you.”
“I look fine.”
“Um, yeah. You’ve been wearing your hair scraped back into a ponytail for months. You rarely put on makeup. And you’re constantly in jeans and oversize t-shirts unless you’re at work. You need to freshen up your image. You’re right. He might love the real you but you’re a rock star’s girlfriend now. People look at you.”
I didn’t want to be that obvious. The manager wanted me to be the regular girl on the street. On the other hand, I was letting myself get frumpy.
“Maybe I should get my hair done. But not today. Anyway, it’s a Saturday, what decent hair salon would even have an appointment available?”
Meadow whipped out her phone and began calling. She walked into the other room so I couldn’t hear her but I’m sure she mentioned Devon’s name and the awards show.
“The fancy salon down the street has had a cancellation. Come on, before you wimp out.”
I needed a haircut. I looked like I was in my thirties, not my twenties. There was only so much a hairdresser could do though. I’d always just be plain old me, ordinary and unglamorous. I’d never look like that girl in the skimpy outfit who’d been all over Devon at the backstage party. Being Devon’s fake girlfriend sure was shaking my self-confidence. If I wanted to go from fake to real though, I needed to follow Meadow’s advice and be the best me possible. I’d be so fabulous that Devon wouldn’t be able to resist me.
I got taken straight to the chair when we reached the salon. A guy named Anton, dressed all in black, came over and ran his hands through my hair, removing my hairband.
“We have our work cut out for us here, don’t we?”
I wasn’t sure I liked the way he said that. My hair wasn’t too bad. It was a little frizzy and hung in a limp mess. That’s why I tied it back, so it was out of my way and I didn’t have to deal with it. It wasn’t that bad though.
He asked me about layers and all kinds of things. I just agreed to everything he said. I didn’t really follow his fancy hairdresser talk.
“Rock star girlfriend, that’s the look we’re going for.”
I never knew it was a specific look. I thought it was just dating a rock star. Then some other girl came over and talked to me about colour.
“Honey blonde,” she said. “It’ll soften things and make your eyes pop.”
I assumed that was a good thing, even if it sounded painful. My hair was blonde enough, I thought, but the girl seemed insistent on highlights. I wasn’t sure how to say no to her. She just took over and, before I knew it, she slapped colour on my hair.
Then it was hours of sitting around with chemicals burning into my brain. Followed by washing and cutting. I couldn’t hear anything over the noise of the dryers, and all the magazines were full of celebrity gossip. Every time I saw a picture of Devon with a girl on his arm, I threw the magazine down and picked up another one. I went through a lot of magazines.
A girl brought me over a coffee and cookie. That made me realise how hungry I was. I sent a message to Meadow:
Get me out of here!
She’d gone off to do her own thing while I got primped.
Just when I thought they were nearly done, another girl came over with a hairdryer.
“Now to style you.”
For hours and hours, while my stomach rumbled, the girl combed and teased and sprayed my hair. I was pretty sure there was something in the Geneva Convention covering this treatment. Eventually Meadow came in with a sandwich for me.
“We’re nearly finished,” I said.
The hairdryer girl shook her head. What else could she do to me?
Finally, it was done.
“Holy shit, Daisy, that looks fantastic.” Meadow was really overreacting but it did look great.
“No more scraping it back,” Anton said. Then gave a little shudder. “You look red carpet ready now.”
The colour looked amazing, I had to admit. Devon had to be impressed. And I was really starting to look like one of those magazine girls. My hair looked “just out of bed” tousled but in a way you’d never actually look getting out of bed. Despite that, it felt stiff and unnatural. There were bits pinned up into a big bouffanty thing, then other bits all wildly curled around my face.
Then I got the bill. Ouch. That was a huge amount to spend on myself.
After that, Meadow dragged me off to get my eyelashes extended and my nails done and a bunch of other things. I think mainly she wanted to do it for herself. She was more of
a manicure and fussing around kind of person than I was. The eyelash extensions did look amazing though.
“Just think how much time it’ll save you, not having to do mascara and shit in the morning.”
“That would be zero time because I don’t use mascara.”
They did look amazing though. My eyes really did pop. Well, they looked huge, like big, brown Bambi eyes. I was so over all this though. I wanted to have a nap, not get beautified.
“Now, we need to get you into some new outfits,” she said.
As we walked down the street, a few guys turned to give me a second look. That was weird. Normally, I never got noticed. It wasn’t like they were noticing me, but my haircut and my false eyelashes. Those kinds of fake things that were attached to me. I said that to Meadow.
“Nah, they’re noticing you because you’re walking with a bounce in your step. You look better so you feel better and that makes you look even better. That’s how it goes. Confidence is sexy.”
I never had that kind of confidence though. Sometimes, when I spent a lot of time on myself, I knew I looked okay but even then, it felt like something temporary. I didn’t have that kind of thing inside me that took being attractive for granted.
I’d not been that interested in dating. I’d had a few boyfriends but no one that I’d cared too much about. They’d just been friends that I fooled around with. When the relationships broke up, I’d even felt a sense of relief that I’d now have more time to myself. It wasn’t that I didn’t want a boyfriend, I just didn’t want someone to infringe on me. That whole “being swept away by love” thing seemed awful. I didn’t want to be shaken to the core of my being, I wanted to be comfortable.
Not one of those guys had ever measured up to my true love. They never had soulful eyes with a roguish sparkle.
Imaginary boyfriends were so much better than the real thing. While I struggled to find things to talk about on real dates, the conversations I’d had with Devon in my head were amazing and articulate. He’d say exactly the right thing to make me feel better. He’d stare, long and lingering, into my eyes. If I wanted my world shaken, I’d put on his music, loud in my headphones. A private kind of thing. No other man could offer me as much.
Bad for You (Fallen Star Book 4) Page 7
