CLASS ACT (A BRITISH ROCKSTAR BAD BOY ROMANCE)

by Julia Gardener

  She took the paper and commented. “That’s better, Heath. You’re making fewer mistakes.”

  I leaned back and put my hands behind my head. “I always knew I was a genius. I just needed to roll up my sleeves-”

  “I didn’t say it was great,” she said my chagrin. The woman had an uncanny ability to deflate me. “Just take these lessons one at a time. Before long, you’ll notice the progress you’ve made.”

  The only thing I wanted to take was some groupie on the dresser of my dressing room. Hell. I was even in the mood to fuck Charlotte. Something about her chaste, professional look drew me like a moth to the flame.

  It had been years since I had to work towards a sexual encounter. These days, women just opened their legs up for me on command. I could use the challenge.

  I imagined a woman like Charlotte preferred romance to the direct approach. With a few candlelit dinners, she would be dying to join me in bed. I already could see the look of desire in her eyes.

  “Heath, pay attention to me!”

  I snapped awake to see a sour expression on Charlotte’s face. “What were you saying again?”

  She groaned. “I asked about your teachers back when you were young, Heath.”

  “What about them?”

  “Did any of your teachers notice your difficulties in class?” she asked. “Did they try to give you extra attention or after school help?”

  “I went to some underfunded elementary school in the bad side of the city,” I scoffed. “The teachers cared more about their smoke breaks than they did about any of us.”

  “Did you get any support for your hobbies and extracurricular hobbies?” she continued. “How about your interest in music?”

  “The only thing they supported was a split lip when I mouthed back too much,” I said to Charlotte’s horror. “I always knew music was in my blood. I just didn’t need my teacher spilling it to see for myself.”

  The woman seemed uncomfortable with the topic. “You must have shown talent at an early age.”

  “Talent?” I chuckled. “No, I was pure shit until I met Howard. Still, I knew I wanted to be a musician since I was a lad. Just strumming an out of tune guitar in bed made me feel… it made me feel like a normal boy…”

  “How about your parents?” she inquired. “Did they support your interest in music?”

  “They were even worse,” I said grimly. I recalled the nights when my father would beat me and my mother would watch on with indifference. “The only reason they got married was because they conceived me after a drunken one-night stand. If they didn’t get a tax break for raising me, I’d probably end up dumped off in an alley.”

  “I’ve done some research… on your parents,” she said after a pause. Not too many people knew about my fucked up parents. I preferred to keep it that way since the media would have a field day. Jared or the other band members must have filled her on me. “Your father had a criminal record. Your mother had some misdemeanors.”

  I gave a cynical laugh. “Parents of the year, right? He was a loan shark for some small gang and she was a street hustler. Dad would’ve spent most of his life in prison if the jailhouse wasn’t so booked. He got off early more due to budgetary issues than anything else.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “Dad got killed in a drunken brawl after the local football team lost,” I continued. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer man. “Mum always lived in the bottom of a bottle. It wasn’t long after her liver gave out.”

  “Do you ever miss them?”

  “He beat me every other night while mum watched with some cheap ale in her hand,” I stated plainly. Charlotte’s expression turned to that of horror. “When he wasn’t busy thrashing me, the man told me I was a piece of shit who wouldn’t amount to anything. Funny thing is, I believed him for so many years.”

  “I’m so sorry, Heath,” she whispered. “I didn’t-”

  I spat back. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

  “It’s empathy, not pity,” she replied, her eyes glimmering. Charlotte reached across to grasp me hand. It calmed me even if my rage just boiled under the surface. “I shouldn’t have probed that hard. Please, forgive me.”

  “Well, the door is open,” I grumbled. I didn’t know how we got from the subject of dyslexia to my fucked up childhood but we managed to do it. “Why not walk through it? What else do you want to know?”

  “After your parents died, you were sent to an orphanage,” she continued. “What was it like? Did the people in charge support you?”

  “Some of the best years of my life,” I reminisced with a small smile. “We were all poor as fleas but it didn’t matter. I felt like I was part of a real family for the first time in my life up to that point. I had chores to do but I did them with a smile. The matron in charge would chew me out if I misbehaved too badly. The other orphans were like my brothers and sisters. It was something out of fucking Harry Potter!”

  “Did anyone notice your problems with reading?”

  I nodded. “Ms. Fincher, that was our matron, sat me down every night and helped me read at a passable level. I never had the stomach for learning but I tried for her sake. Howard did his best to help me as well.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He showed me to make music,” I answered, my voice growing soft. “My brain couldn’t handle words but I was born to read musical notes. Howard helped me go over the patterns and symbols. He taught me what they meant. Funny thing is that reading lyrics on sheet music was never much of a problem with me.”

  Charlotte brought a hand to her chin. “Interesting… did Howard have a musical background?”

  I nodded. “His parents were as sweet as mine were savage. They were a good, honest couple that ran a music shop under the house they owned. That is until a damn fire broke out in their home and left Howard orphaned.”

  That whole family was mired with tragedy. Two good parents were taken before their time. Their son soon followed just when his music career was about to take off.

  How did a fucking guy like me live on when Howard got scattered his ashes scattered over the Irish Sea?

  “Do you think it will help if we did some writing exercises on sheet music?” Charlotte asked, breaking me out of my morbid thoughts. “It’s unusual but I try to approach my students’ challenges on an issue by issue basis.”

  “It’s worth a shot,” I replied with a shrug. “Besides, you’re the boss.”

  She reached out to place her soft hand over mine. “I like to think of us as partners working towards a common goal.”

  “Partners then,” I said, turning my hand over and gripping it. She blushed at the gesture. “You know, I haven’t had a partner since Howard. My new bandmates are just associates.”

  I wanted to trail my hand down her legs and feel her warm flesh between my fingers. That woman seemed like she was born with a chastity belt on her. It was time that she loosened up.

  “Have you ever thought about adding another permanent member or two?” Charlotte asked, retrieving her hand from my touch. Fine, I could work with someone who played hard to get. “Double Damage is a very unusual rock band in that you’re the only real member. Even the name refers to you and Howard. What you have now is effectively a solo career.”

  “I told management to fuck off if they so much as changed the name of the band by a letter,” I stated adamantly. “Howard was more than just some brilliant musician who played alongside me. We did everything together. We wrote music together. We took shifts driving our van across England looking for a new gig. We even shared half a frankfurter from a roadside shop because we were too damn poor to afford anything else. Those types of partnerships don’t grow on trees.”

  Charlotte put the worksheets back into her bag. “Have you ever given someone a chance in order to develop a long term relationship?”

  “Do you mean for my professional life?” I smirked. “Or my personal life?”

  She groaned. “You know what
I mean.”

  “These days, the only person you can trust is yourself,” I replied coldly. “Look no farther than my management. Those backstabbing bastards are having me do primary school work just to play my music.”

  “Heath you’re the most critically and commercially rock star the world has ever seen in year-”

  “I’m the most successful serf they’ve ever seen,” I said bitterly. “I’m on a five year contract with a company that takes delight in knowing that I can’t read. Every minute of my life is on some schedule. Honestly, I envy you, Charlotte.”

  The woman’s eyes widened in shock. “Me?”

  “You get to travel to different places,” I began. “But it’s all on your terms. You’re the one in charge.”

  “It hasn’t been a pleasure cruise,” she giggled. “I’ve been to war-torn countries and taught war orphans with bombs going off in the background. As hectic as this tour has been, I feel blessed to be in an air-conditioned bus.”

  “I guess that doesn’t leave you much room for a boyfriend,” I teased. “Or something more… long term and intimate.”

  Another fit of giggles took her. “You’re on the mark with that. I just love working with new people too much to settle down in one place. How about you? Have you thought of retiring and settling down?”

  “I’m performing until I’m in a wheelchair,” I said with a half-smile. “Maybe even then. It’ll probably take death or dementia for me to stop performing.”

  “How about just starting a family?”

  “No, Howard was the one who always dreamt of starting a family,” I revealed with a sigh. He had always been the family man of the duo. “The man wanted to find a nice girl and settle down with a plot of land in Scotland. He still planned on making music in his middle years. However, it would be as a writer or producer rather than a performer…”

  “Ever think of becoming a just a producer?” she suggested. “Between you and Howard, there have been over a dozen songs that have topped the charts. Just about everything you touch has been gold. I’m sure they’re a lot of musicians dying to have you write and compose for them.”

  “Howard was the real musical savant,” I answered. I was rarely a modest man but I always gave my old partner his dues. “The work I’ve done since his death is just a pale imitation of his brilliance.”

  “It still sells well if the music charts are any indication,” Charlotte replied. “Don’t let this tutoring stuff discourage you. You’re still Sterling Records’ golden goose.”

  “I feel like they’re just going to gut me and take those eggs straight out me,” I groaned. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”

  Charlotte’s eyes glinted in the light as she said. “Heath, what keeps you going in this business? It doesn’t seem like it’s solely the money.”

  “I got a ball and chain of a contract if you haven’t noticed,” I grunted. “I’m their workhorse for another five more years.”

  “It can’t be just a contractual obligation that gets you on stage.”

  The woman had a way of reading me in a way no one did since Howard. “Contract or not, I have to perform for my fans. Some of them have been following me since my first performance in a Liverpool bar. It’s their support that keeps me fed, clothed, and able to make music. Besides, I have to show up to work or the record doesn’t make money.”

  My teacher frowned. “I know tours bring in a great deal of revenue these days. It must be very stressful to be on tour all the time.”

  “Tours keep the lights on,” I answered in agreement. “If you forget about the ticket sales for a moment, you can make a fortune just off just the merchandise. Then, you add in sponsorship deals into the mix and you end up with a tidy bit of money.”

  “It all seems like a well-oiled business.”

  I gave her a cynical laugh. She didn’t know the half of it. “Howard always said we’d be set for life if we could trick someone into paying us to do the thing we love. If only he knew what kind of devil’s bargain we’d have to make…”

  “It funny,” she began. “Before I met you, I thought being a wealthy rock star would be an incredible life.”

  “It has its moments,” I offered. “Playing in front of a live audience is a dream come true. It’s one of the few times I actually feel like I’m in control of my life.”

  Charlotte didn’t reply. Instead, she leaned forward towards me. I could smell her sweet perfume.

  Her lips were inches from mine.

  Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Jared appeared with an irritable look on his face. Managers always had a habit of intruding you on the worst possible moment. “What the hell are you doing here, Heath? It’s almost time for the show!”

  “Acting like a good student,” I grinned, putting on my jacket. “Relax, you’ve been my manager for five years. You know how the routine goes.”

  Jared grumbled something under his breath and left.

  It was time to earn my pay.

  Turning flush, Charlotte gathered her belongings and said. “Good luck, Heath. Break a leg.”

  I shot back a brilliant smile. “I like my legs as they are, thank you very much.”

  After saying goodbye, I walked towards the stage with an extra spring in my step.

  Tonight was going to be an extra special performance.

  I just knew it.

  I had never been to a rock concert before tonight.

  My idea of a good time was to curl up next to a book with a glass of hot chocolate. For a sheltered academic, I was as far away from my element tonight as possible. For that matter, the Dell Music Center didn’t serve any hot chocolate.

  I could feel the energy radiate from the frenzied crowd beside me. I saw signs from women professing their everlasting love for Heath. I saw effigies of the rock star and the other members of Double Damage. It was almost as if a religious mob had swarmed the arena to worship their demigod.

  When Heath and the others walked onto stage, the crowd erupted with rapturous applause. They hadn’t even played a song and the crowd had gone insane. I could feel the vibrations from their jumping in my box seat.

  I was lucky to be in the VIP section away from the crowd below. I don’t think I could’ve survived a minute in a mosh pit. I sat with the rich and well-connected. Most of them were executives from Sterling Records’ American branch. I decided to sit back and listen to them play their first song.

  “…using tender words to salve my soul…”

  It was Double Damage’s first real hit titled Tender Words. It was a fan favorite that made its appearance in just about every concert. This arrangement was a bit modified due it originally being conceived as a duet between Howard and Heath.

  “…your tears, burning their way down my cheek…”

  The crowd was on their feet. Women wept as Heath sang beautifully. The song was about how a woman’s words could heal heartbreak. The rock star said each word as if he was whispering them directly to each individual woman in the venue.

  It was a bit cheesy but I couldn’t help but tap my foot to the beat. The band may have had fights with each other in the backstage. However, they worked as a team when it mattered the most.

  Heath may have struggled with schoolwork but he was a born showman. He moved onto the next piece which involved him playing a guitar. The man was as skilled with an instrument as he was with a microphone.