“…the only thing left is cold ashes in the tray…”
With casual ease, he simultaneously played and sang. I didn’t know how he had such a strong, clear voice after years of hard drinking. Maybe, the drinking was what gave his voice such a sense of command.
The rock star looked like a Greek demigod descending from the heavens. In a large telescreen, I could see the luster of his sweat-stricken skin. His eyes were closed as if caught in the act of making love. The sweat of his face fell down his neck and onto his exposed chest.
If his voice drew in women like Greek sailors to a siren, then his body sealed their faith. Like a siren, Heath sang and sang. The rock star performed like it would be his last show.
You would have never guessed that man could be an arrogant jackass. You would have never known that most adolescents could read better than him. Or that he was an orphan who had dealt with years of emotional and physical abuse.
Song after song, Double Damage mesmerized the audience. The bandmates may have been difficult with each other backstage but they brought it here. Ryan, Dave, and Tyler backed up Heath all the way.
There was a woman sitting next to me. She was a daughter of a millionaire who bought her way into the VIP section. Heath had reduced her to tears. Her expensive looking mascara was utterly ruined from her bawling.
I couldn’t blame her.
Heath’s sheer virility made me hot under the collar. I crossed my legs like I needed to waddle to the bathroom. I felt as if the man was giving me lap dance in public. It was strange to think of a student this way.
I was here to teach him.
I wasn’t here to be seduced by him.
I was so lost in his performance that it was a shock to me when it finally ended. I felt exhausted as though I had run a marathon. My mind reeled from my first rock concert.
With the encore finished, I followed the other VIP members to the backstage. It was one of the perks of buying a VIP ticket. Or, in my case, being a contracted worker for Sterling Record.
I didn’t know whether all rock concerts were like this or Double Damage was simply extraordinary. I had always been more of a fan of operas and classical music. They were elegant if boring affairs. They didn’t have the sheer energy of a rock concert. Or the frenzied fan girls for that matter.
The strangest thing was that everyone here had only had a glimpse of the man known as Heath Lawrence. These people didn’t know about his tumultuous childhood. Or the pain his best friend’s death caused him. They only saw a manufactured image of him by Sterling Records.
Hell, even I barely knew anything about the man. Each day was a new revelation. I always had to reinterpret the man after each conversation I had with him.
Who was Heath Lawrence?
Did I really know what kind of man my student was?
I had merely scratched the surface.
Another day, another victory.
The applause of the crowd was a drug I was in constant withdrawal from. I’d even say I liked it better than a good fuck. It even had the same elements. I started with some foreplay to loosen up the audience. Then, I moved in when they were all hot and sweaty. I took them from the crest of one climax to the next. Finally, I finished them off with an encore performance.
Thankfully, there were other people there to handle the cleanup.
I may have been bound by a contract but I was in charge here.
Pleasing an audience was a lot like pleasing a woman. You have to keep them happy and they would keep you happy in return. Nobody would pay money to come back time after time to a shit show.
I had seen quite a few beauties in the crowd. Some of them held up marriage proposals. Too bad I wasn’t exactly the type to go steady. I was much less promiscuous in my professional relationships than I was with my personal ones.
Not that I was in the mood for any groupie willing to spread their legs.
Strangely enough, I had thought of Charlotte throughout the performance. My teacher had been on my mind since our last conversation. From time to time, I even glanced at the VIP booth where she sat at.
She was probably backstage with the other special guests. I wondered what she thought of my music. I hadn’t been so self-conscious of my performance in years. I usually had a simple policy. If you didn’t like my music, I’d give you back your money and tell you to fuck off.
I walked with the others to the backstage. From there, we would go to a small media event with the press. There would be as much free liquor as there would inane questions from reporters. “You did well, Ryan. You really pulled through for us.”
The drummer smiled knowing that he had been a last minute replacement. “Thanks, I’m just happy I could play, Heath.”
Tyler elbowed him in the ribs. “That’s high praise coming from Heath.”
Dave laughed. “Enjoy it while it lasts!”
I rolled my eyes. “I can’t wait to get away from the two of you. In fact, I can’t wait for this press party to be over.”
“Got a honey waiting for you backstage?” Tyler smirked. “Just save some for the rest of us.”
I could get a damn harem waiting at my beck and call. However, I wasn’t in the mood for a screaming fangirl. I wanted someone quiet and smart. It had to be someone I could have a decent conversation with.
Someone like Charlotte.
Tyler shot me a concerned look. “Hey, Heath? Where are you off to?”
Dave chimed in as well. “Isn’t too early to meet with the VIPs?”
I waved off their concerns. “I have some… homework to take care of.”
The two guitarist shared a dumbfounded look.
“Well, more women for the rest of us,” Ryan joked. It earned him a playful slap on the shoulder by Tyler. “We’ll meet you at the press party.”
I wasn’t in the mood to make small talk with lusty fangirls. Honestly, the whole playboy act was getting a bit stale. You could only have so many one-night stands before it wore out its luster.
Unfortunately, they had other plans.
“On my God!” a girl said as a gaggle of her friends cut off all angles of escape. “It’s Heath!”
“You look so much hotter in person!”
“That performance was amazing!”
“I cried so much!”
“I hadn’t cried like that since the end of The Notebook!”
“Please marry me Heath!”
“Pleased to meet you ladies,” I said, trying to keep my composure. I didn’t know how they kept slipping past security time and time again. “But you should be in this area. It’s restricted to staff-”
“I jumped the gate to get here!” one of them squealed. “I don’t care if I go to jail. I got to meet Heath Lawrence!”
I brushed one girl aside to make myself an exit. Perhaps it was a bit rougher than I intended but I was no mood for it. “Sorry, but I have an important meeting to attend to. Glad you enjoyed the performance.”
The girls snapped photos of me with their phones. By morning, there would be stories about how much of a rude asshole I was. Not that I cared at this point.
My bandmates would’ve been bewildered by my decision to ignore a group of cute girls. I could’ve sweet-talked them into coming with me to my dressing room. I could’ve shagged them one after the other.
Yet, I only thought of Charlotte.
I didn’t know what it was about her that attracted me. Sure, I liked a woman who played hard to get but there was something else about her. I had never told another soul so much about my life since Howard passed away.
It felt so easy to talk to her about my past. She didn’t judge me or call me a delinquent who deserved to be beaten and belittled. She didn’t pity me for being some unwanted orphan.
Or maybe it was the fact that our professional relationship couldn’t last. We would part ways in three years. It would be even earlier if I didn’t pass my first exam in six months. Considering my current academic abilities, it was practically a death sentence. T
hat damn contract meant I would lose my job.
It also meant that I would never see Charlotte again. There wouldn’t be a reason for her to tolerate my presence if Sterling Records wouldn’t pay her. Hell, no soul alive would stay with me for very long unless that got a nice paycheck for their trouble.
Eventually, I found my teacher nursing a glass of club soda with the other VIPs. The woman was a born wallflower who didn’t mingle with the others. With luck, we could go somewhere more private.
However, Jared noticed my entrance. That manager had an uncanny ability to corner me when I wanted to do something else. “If it isn’t the man of the hour. The press party is waiting-”
“Don’t care about the press party,” I said rather curtly. Another group of VIPs and managers swarmed around me. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-”
“Heath, one of the Sam Ash executives wants to talk to you about a new deal.”
“Rolling Stone wants to do a spread on you.”
“Rock & Folk is here from France. They want a special interview with you.”
“Adidas wants to extend our contract with them,” one said. I didn’t know how or why a rock star got shoe deals like a basketball player. “They just need us to drop any Nike endorsements.”
“The governor of the state wants to meet with you, Heath,” another chimed in. “His daughter is a big fan of you. He’ll pay us to have you at her birthday.”
God, they were even worse than the groupies. At least I could fuck them. In this case, management fucked me and made me ask for seconds.
I pushed myself through the crowd and made it towards Charlotte. Thankfully, my bodyguard, Mr. Han, stepped in to help me. For a short guy, he sure knew how to control a crowd.
My teacher giggled at me as Mr. Han swatted off a junior manager. “It looks like you’re just as popular backstage as you are in the front.”
“Story of my life,” I muttered. “How are you holding up?”
Charlotte took a breath. “My first rock concert has been… an interesting experience.”
I asked for her opinion. “Did you enjoy the show?”
She smiled. “I loved it.”
I smiled back. “Come on, let’s get some privacy.”
I followed Heath to the back of the venue. I was so exhausted from the event. This was just as a guest rather than a performer.
I couldn’t imagine what it was like to do this for a living. Double Damage was known to go on lengthy tours. Like clockwork, they would get up early, practice, do a sound check, play at the venue, and meet with the press. Then, they would go back on the tour bus and repeat it.
I looked so out of place in this rock concert. I wore a modest button down dress and a long skirt. In spite of my young age, I looked more like a mother chaperoning her teenage daughter.
It felt like I was dressing conservatively to thwart what little prurient interest Heath had in me. I wanted our relationship to stay strictly professional. If anything, it seemed to make Heath more interested in me. Not that I minded the attention. It’s not too often a sexy British rock star asks you to have a private conversation with him.
The rock star poured himself a glass of champagne and led me out of the after party. He chuckled and said. “I tell you, these parties are the worst part of touring.”
We entered a balcony that overlooked the outdoor venue. I scanned the horizon before I replied. “I thought you’d like the free booze.”
“Only if I don’t have to pay for it by listening to idiots,” he muttered. “These parties are just business meetings with better catering. The people here make me want to shoot myself. I don’t know whether I hate the managers or the marketers more.”
The other band members had told me this was when groupies came to spend a night with Heath. “Did you meet any interesting women?”
He leaned against the railing and took a swig of champagne. “No one was interesting as you, Charlotte. Sure you don’t want something harder?”
Turning flush, I said. “I just have to get my lesson plan in order. We just have so many subjects to cover in such a short period of time.”
Suddenly, there was a serious expression on Heath’s face. His charming grin was long gone. “Charlotte, be straight with me. What of my chances of passing the GCSE?”
“I’m not too familiar with the British education system and its qualifications,” I replied, delaying the answer. He wasn’t going to like the answer to his question. “Your arrangement is most unusual in that-”
“What are my chances?” he interrupted, his blue eyes glaring at me. “Don’t act like my record label and keep secrets from me.”
“As of now, I’m not even sure you could finish the test in time,” I answered, looking downcast. On the other hand, rage flashed in Heath’s eyes. “These tests are made for people who are finishing their secondary education and heading to college. Your current skill level is somewhere between an elementary school and secondary education. Based on the British learning system, I would say it is second form at best.”
Second form would put him at the skill level of an average twelve year old.
“Those fuckers are setting me up to fail,” he yelled, throwing the champagne glass against the wall. It shattered into several pieces. “They’ll milk me dry for a couple of tours and then cut me loose!”
I placed a hand on his shoulder as if to keep a wild dog on a leash. “Don’t give up hope, Heath.”
“Hope? There wasn’t any to begin with,” he spat back. “I’ve always been a living, breathing bag of money. My record label lied to my face. My own parents’ treated me as a fucking tax break. You’re on a damn fool’s errand trying to educate me.”
“You have to try,” I said, not letting go of him. “You can prove them wrong. We can do this.”
“What the point?” he said, slumping down onto the floor. “I’m already living on borrowed time. You said yourself, I’m as smart as a boy whose balls haven’t dropped yet. I can barely read better than a toddler. Why should I even try?”
“Because you love performing,” I replied, joining him on the floor. “Because you’re an egotistical perfectionist who never settles for less. Because you want to show those bastards in management that they underestimated you.”
It got a small smile off him. “Woman, you know the right things to say to me…”
“I won’t lie,” I said, biting my lower lip. “It’ll be an uphill battle but we can do this if we work together.”
Heath leaned against me. “What the hell? It’s not like I have anything left to lose.”
God, the man looked so gorgeous. His hair was a wild mess after hours of performing. His sweat shone under the moonlight.
Yet, I was seeing a different side to Heath. After our conversation, his eyes looked strangely somber yet all the more attractive for it. He looked less like a Sex God, which he still was, and more of a regular human with his own doubts and insecurities.
I knew it was inappropriate but I never wanted a man as badly as Heath. He wasn’t just your average, every day student. The man was a fucking rock star. I wanted to go town with him in bed.
From the expression on his face, Heath had similar thoughts. His eyes eagerly drank in my body as if I was some sexy diva instead of a frumpy tutor. His lips yearned for mine.
CLASS ACT (A BRITISH ROCKSTAR BAD BOY ROMANCE) Page 6
