Rock Fever

by Theresa Hodge

  I was determined to please my boss and at the same time have a lot of fun in New York. I decided I would spend just two nights there; I had already done some researching. There was an economical hotel where I had booked a room. I could help out with the expense in any way that I could.

  I decided I would make use of my solitary time to write something mind-blowing about the Trash Monkeys.

  I felt elated and excited that Penny was offering me this opportunity to cover the headline. It meant the whole world to me, and I was determined to return with a hit story.

  I packed several pairs of my undies, a nightgown, two changes of clothes, and my earpiece. I also carried with me my laptop, which could come in handy, and my notebook.

  “New York here I come,” I spoke aloud, grabbed my handbag, luggage, and marched out of the door full of excitement and hopefulness. I psyched myself up that I would have nothing less than a successful trip. After all, success was my motto.

  I slid into my ride, it was a blue convertible. I had bought it secondhand just six months back. I had not gone to work the other day with it because my gas gauge had been near empty and I didn’t want to be late for work. But now I am driving it to the airport to park it so I can catch the two-and-a-half-hour flight from Jacksonville, Florida, to New York. Rainbow City doesn’t have its own airline. I have to travel to JAX which will be a direct flight to JFK. There will be a rental car waiting for me on arrival, that will make it easier for me to get my job done.

  I couldn’t stop thinking of what the concert would be like. The Trash Monkeys was the first rock band that I enjoyed; they were so unique, and the blend of their voices was magic.

  “Illicit,” I murmured and started the car.

  A lot of things played in my mind, like what sort of hit story was I going to get out of this rock band? They were quite decent, no shady past, and none had been involved in a scandal as far as I knew.

  I always focused on celebrities this way, trying to see where their strengths and weaknesses would help me to understand they were real people behind the fame. The reality of life was that even professionals like myself could get wrapped up in all the hoopla every now and again. I needed to keep a level head and not become all fan-girlie.

  “Aim for greatness, Kira!” This conversation with myself was a push before getting on the keyboard to type up my assignments.

  Trash Monkeys. Their name sounded weird. Why would someone, even a band of their magnitude, want to be addressed as a monkey? Although monkeys were cute and scientifically proven to be as smart as man, I had a problem with the Trash title even if the band was the best thing since sliced bread was invented. I had to admit that I had listened to all twelve songs on their album, and there was nothing trashy about any of them.

  I took a deep breath and focused on the road, ignoring the mild flashes of the midday roadworks that I ran into along the interstate toward JAX.

  ***

  I was an hour into my flight and I still had no idea on what to write.

  I felt I should call Edel or Tom and ask their opinion about the band but decided against it. My boss had entrusted me with this job. It was a personal assignment targeted at my promotion, so I had to prove to her that I deserved it.

  A couple of hours later after I’d picked up my rental car, my tummy churned as I passed a signpost that read: Welcome to New York. I couldn’t describe the level of excitement I felt when I saw that. I was so damn hungry! I craved for burritos but knew I wasn’t getting any. I didn’t want to chance getting an upset stomach.

  It was time to rest, stretch my legs a little bit before continuing on this journey.

  I took a turn and rode into a gas station called Grub Mart. It was quite modern, but thank God the car lot wasn’t too full as I snagged a parking spot. I noticed they had a store, a mini supermarket full of goodies.

  Yeah, right. I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t going to miss grabbing some unhealthy snacks to eat. I would just run some extra miles when I returned home.

  “Good day, ma’am, welcome to Grub Mart.” A scrawny-looking girl welcomed me with a smile.

  I liked the way her hair was dyed. She looked like someone with a healthy dose of confidence, because she was not afraid of showing off her pink hair color. The cashier’s bold personality drew me to her instantly.

  “Hello.” I flashed my teeth into a friendly smile.

  “Hello.”

  “I need twenty-five in gas, among other things,” I said as I glanced around the parking lot.

  From the way she gawked at me, I guessed she knew I was a traveler.

  “Sorry, I know I’m staring.” She smiled before opening my tank and inserting the pump.

  “Not a problem. People tell me I have a familiar face.” I laughed.

  You see, I loved talking to random people. It always opened me up to a story because at the end I was going to learn something new, something different.

  “Are you just passing through?” She asked.

  “Yeah, I came here to attend a concert,” I replied curtly.

  At the mention of a concert, her eyes grew wide, and her slim, oval face split apart as her lips curled into a smile.

  “I bet you it’s the Trash Monkeys, right?”

  I nodded.

  “I love those guys, and they are awesome. We have their flyers everywhere.” She said this with a high degree of excitement. “I would kill for a date with the lead singer, Blade Benefield. He’s super-hot!”

  “He is, isn’t he? Tell me what you like about them.” My curiousness was me trying to get some points for my writing.

  “They are just cute, but I love Blade Benefield the most. Don’t all women want to kiss him? He is every woman’s wet dream. He’s got the body, the money, the voice, and—” She bit her lip before she spoke again. “From what I heard, he’s packing. If you know what I mean.”

  “Oh wow.” I raised my brow knowing she was saying something that was personal. I wondered how many women were privy to Blade’s private parts. I flushed at the thought.

  “I hear he is good in bed, too…”

  Now that was a story. “How did you come by that bit of information?”

  “I don’t know, I just heard it from a girlfriend who ushered at an event they performed. She just told me. Maybe they had a fling, who knows? Candice can be a wild one.” She shrugged.

  I just knew by the tone in her voice that she was not sure of what she was saying. That was not what I wanted. I was not a gossip monger and I just wanted a big story that would encourage people and other celebrities or guard them against making any mistakes. I needed hard facts.

  “Thanks.” I took out some money and gave it to her.

  “Wow, you tipped me?” She looked excited.

  “Of course. You’re good at what you do,” I replied and strolled into the Grub Mart. I loved giving tips whenever I had extra cash on me. People deserved that, especially those who enjoyed what they were doing. Especially those who welcomed customers with a huge smile and went out of their way to make them comfortable.

  I grabbed a can of Pringles and a bottle of Coke. I took a chicken sandwich and a chocolate bar which I would nibble on while writing. I had a sweet tooth on occasion; I just loved stuff that would energize me.

  “Thanks,” I said, paying for my purchases.

  Leaving, I waved at the sales girl and slid into my ride. She gave me one last farewell wave back with a big smile attached to her thin lips.

  “Phew.” I turned my drink up to my mouth and took a healthy swig as I drove away. I found comfort in the way the fizz burned the back of my throat to settle in my belly.

  The conversation I had with the girl had just sparked my curiosity. I knew the names of the Trash Monkeys, but that was all there was to it. I didn’t know much about their private lives but I needed to find a way to get to know them on a deeper level.

  I was going to start from somewhere…the sexiest of them all. I needed to get to know Blade Benefield on a personal leve
l.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  FIVE HOURS LATER

  I had checked into the cheap hotel I had booked online, The Travel Lodge Inn. I had taken an energizing nap and drank enough of the bottled water to keep me relaxed after my long journey.

  I was done bathing and now I was heading out towards the venue of the concert. My phone was well-charged, and I took along my jotter as well. I was going to kill two birds with one stone.

  I would try and interview as many people as I could but I really wanted to get closer to the band…especially Blade. Maybe I could get a one-on-one story out of him if I was lucky.

  I wore a short leather skirt that revealed my bare legs. I just wanted to fit in with the crowd. The skirt stopped midway up my thighs, and I added a short crop top with a denim jacket. I wore wedge-heeled sandals that would enable me to walk well.

  Even now, as I looked into the mirror, I knew I had killed it.

  I let down my wand curls; they tumbled against my back. I decided to go gothic with my makeup. So, my brows were dark while my lips were blue. I looked sassy and I knew I would fit in with the crowd.

  Finally. I was ready and grabbed my perfume, Midnight Lace, and gave myself a spritz. I always wanted to smell good.

  I hurried out of the hotel room. I hailed a cab; the concert venue was only a short distance away from my hotel, and I arrived in fifteen minutes. I paid and thanked the driver before getting out of the car.

  After I handed over my ticket at the booth, I walked into the open park. I was awed by the turnout. I estimated there were over fifteen hundred people, and more were still coming in.

  “Whew!” Sweat wet my brows. I had never been a crowd person but I had to start somewhere.

  There was a stage that separated the band from the crowd, who were designated to the area with larger canopies.

  Soft music hummed in the background. It was a love song from the band’s previous album piping through the speakers. This one could make someone weep.

  My nose took in a plethora of smells. Tobacco, stale beer, and nicotine. Guys smoked openly, and some even made out with the girls they’d come with. Wow, this was going to be a hell of a night.

  Where was I even going to start? I surveyed the people I could see; some were quite high on something.

  “Would you like something to drink?” a guy asked me, standing nearby. “There’s an open bar over there.” He nodded over to the right.

  “Thanks, but I got it,” I politely declined and strolled over to the bar to order me a margarita.

  The next minute I was sipping the drink, which helped me to relax. When I was done, I walked to a stand and dropped the plastic cup in the trash can. Luckily for me, I found two people—a curvy brunette and an Asian guy—talking about the band. This was my golden opportunity.

  “Um, excuse me, guys?” I smiled and did a little introduction which brought their attention to me immediately.

  “I’ve read some great stories from Daybreak Journal,” the shorter guy, who was Asian, remarked.

  “Thanks. I would love to ask a few questions about the band. What do you think about the music they make? Do you think Illicit deserves the hype it’s getting? Who’s your favorite Trash Monkey?”

  The brunette answered. “First of all, I don’t even like the Trash Monkeys, nothing personal. I am not a fan of the music of any genre. I just came here because a guy named Brandon Kim, who happens to be my friend, invited me.” She pointed at the Asian guy next to her.

  “Oh?” My face fell. I was hoping she would give me something more.

  Brandon hit her lightly with his elbow. “I love the Trash Monkeys. They are the future of Rock and Roll kings. They are gifted and multi-talented. Not many rock bands can do what they pulled off in their latest album. They blend rock with electronic, jazz, soul, and even hip-hop. I love their style. They are musical geniuses.”

  I didn’t need a magician to tell me he was a big fan.

  “Wow. What’s one thing that you feel the Trash Monkeys could work on?” I asked.

  “Ahh— I don’t like the newest member of the group, Steven Radcliff. He comes off as arrogant, but my best member remains Blade Benefield. I feel there wouldn’t be Trash Monkeys or Illicit without him. He even penned Illicit himself.”

  I was satisfied with his response, but once again, I needed to do my research thoroughly on the band members.

  “Thank you. Have a nice time.” I smiled and walked away.

  What was it about Blade Benefield that made him so special?

  “Excuse me. I am Kira from Daybreak Journal. Please, I’ll be quick with my questions.” I blocked a tall, wiry guy and slender lady. Her hair was dyed in an array of rainbow colors.

  “Nice to meet you, Kira, you got to be quick. I was chilling with my guy,” she replied.

  “Okay. Sure, I’ll make it quick.”

  Briefly, she told me her name was Kelsey.

  “Tell me, Kelsey, who is your favorite Trash Monkey and why?”

  Her eyes were fidgety, and she kept turning back like someone was watching her. “Are you kidding me?” Her voice grew loud, and this attracted some attention to where we stood.

  I swallowed.

  “Blade, of course. He is the ‘IT’ guy.” She shrugged.

  “Why is he the ‘IT’ guy?” I asked.

  Her brows came together in confusion. “I don’t know, man, I just like his voice, and he is smoking hot. I would fuck him.”

  Whoa. I couldn’t believe the woman said that in front of her man. The woman walked away from me once she was done answering my questions. Had she said she would fuck Blade Benefield in front of her boyfriend? Man, that was bold as hell!

  A while later, I was getting exhausted and a little bit overwhelmed; I had not met anybody who had given me something that would secure me the big breaking news.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a massive giant of a guy standing far from the others. He was fiddling with the buttons on his phone. He had this Viking look; abnormally tall and roughly bearded with icy-blue eyes.

  I was a dwarf before him.

  “Hello, I am Kira from Daybreak Journal and I would love to ask you a few questions,” I said this with my best smile. My cheeks had started to ache from all the smiling I was doing.

  I hoped I was imagining this guy threatening me with his looks and probably punching me in the face for disturbing him.

  “Oh, I am Vance Kuhns.” Vance smiled.

  I felt relieved.

  “Do you live around the area, Vance?”

  “I came all the way from Austin, Texas. I know it’s far, but I would travel anywhere to see the Trash Monkeys live. I love all of their songs, but like everyone, Illicit stood out for me. I also love the team spirit I see among the guys,” he replied in a thick southern drawl.

  Vance mentioned ‘team spirit’, and that gave me something to think about.

  “That will be all, Vance, have a swell night.” I waved at him and walked into the large canopy, straight to the front. I wanted to have a good look at the band, especially Blade Benefield.

  I had to cut Vane’s interview short because the concert was about to begin. I rushed into the huge canopy straight to the front where I could have a better view of the Trash Monkeys live and in person.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  KIRA

  The atmosphere suddenly became heated with screams, shouts, and smoke screens when the Trash Monkeys hit the stage. The first song to be played was none other than Illicit.

  The crowd went wild. Blade stepped forward and took charge of the microphone. The lead guitarist struck a high note, leading the song all the way through.

  I was awed by the love the audience was showing them. People sang along and cheered as Blade led the song.

  I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t know what to do at this point. I found it odd that I was admiring the guy that many women openly ogled. I had nothing against him but I was the kind of girl who was not easily drawn to popular
opinion. I had to agree this time around that Blade was hot.

  He was tall and broad-shouldered; even the leather jacket that covered the baggy clothes he wore could not hide his well-muscled physique. He had long black hair that was generally pulled back into a ponytail, which gave him the ultimate bad-boy look.

  Fire flickered in his eyes, and passion as he sang with everything in him. Now this was something I loved. Nothing thrilled me more than seeing people do what they liked.

  Though the crowd went frenzied with the song that was being rendered, my eyes were on the members of the band. Now was an excellent time to observe them and how they reacted to each other on stage.

  A sexy blonde woman in a pair of tight jeans, leather boots, and fitted crop top stood next to Blade. I felt slightly jealous, and this worried me. She was the only female in the band. Her name was Tricia Truitt, and she was the sister to Jasper Truitt, the lead guitarist.

  Tricia was the bassist. I didn’t know why I didn’t like her; maybe because she kept throwing lovesick gazes at Blade. All she did was swing her hips seductively to the rhythm of the music and glance Blade’s way with a curve to her red-painted lips.

  There was a tall, muscled, freckled redheaded guy, and he played in his boxers and an old tee-shirt. I saw him as someone who was comfortable in his skin. The stage and the fans were his world, and he would not let anybody tell him what to do. He was Starburst, the drummer. He was sexy in his own way, I supposed.

  Blade sang with a deep tenor voice, something alternative to bass. But he didn’t sing alone, and an alto voice blended smoothly with his. And it made me wonder why the Asian guy had asked for Steven Radcliff’s removal from the band. The guy was right, he had a solid voice. Though not as fantastic as Blade, but I had no doubt he deserved the given spot in the group.

  He was also the backup guitarist.

  I could see the way the Trash Monkeys exchanged looks of commonality and I noticed how they grinned and nodded at each other. I felt harmony play in their music; there was team spirit.