by Nora Crystal
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Rock Bottom Love:
Rockstar Romance
By: Nora Crystal
Get the Prequel “Rock Candy” for FREE at https://rockcandy.acidaliapublishing.com/freebook
Table of Contents
ROCK BOTTOM LOVE
HERE IS A PREVIEW OF “ROCK CANDY” BY NORA CRYSTAL
Rock Bottom Love
Ch.1 Jean
“You need to get out of this room and get some fresh air if nothing else," Sheila was a better friend than she had been a mother. She was always pushing me to stop studying and get out of the house. This time it felt like she might be right. Of course it wasn't until she put me in front of a mirror that I realized how bad things had gotten. I was so pale I had almost gone translucent.
School had taken over my life. I had always been a bit of a keener, but law school was different. I was still top of the class, but that feat was taking every part of me. I hadn’t gone out or done anything just for fun in a very long time. As I looked into the mirror I remembered my last night out.
It was with my boyfriend Jeremy. We went to a Chili’s and fought about how we never go out. That was the entire conversation, and then we were so mad by the end that we didn’t speak to each other until we said good bye at the door to my dorm. I thought about it for another minute, because I was pretty sure those were the last words we had spoken to each other in person.
“You need to start taking care of yourself,” Sheila said as she wiped spaghetti off my chin with her thumb.
“I am almost at the end,” I protested. “I am so close to graduation and then I already have a position at Mellon, Zedller, & Shiefle. My goals are months away from coming to fruition, I can’t lose focus now.” It was hard for me to understand my mother’s problem today, until she flipped on the bright lights over the bathroom mirror, “Ahhh! Oh god!”
How did I let it get this bad? I looked like an albino raccoon. There was a chunk of my shoulder length brown hair that was shooting up over my head like a tall, skinny Mohawk. I started trying to push it down when Sheila threw me into the shower.
"This is no time for half measures," my mother warned me. "We are about to accomplish something you have always dreamed about." I looked around the corner of the shower door. "We are going to see They Might be Rock Hyenas live!"
I ducked back into the shower with a scowl on my face. Sheila knew about my history with that band. I loved them, but horrible things happened every time I went to go see them. Dogs died, grandmothers fell ill, and friends were lost forever to the disputes that this band had caused. I was too near the end of my law degree to risk anything putting it in jeopardy. The disaster that accompanied their concerts was always different, and I wasn't about to risk failure.
"This is different though," Sheila said as she sat on my bathroom counter. "This is not an official concert. It's a warm up gig for a possible reunion tour."
"They broke up?" I asked spitting the shower water out of my mouth.
"Come on!" Sheila yelled, "You used to be a fan. You used to care about these guys."
"I am a fan," I said as I thought about the group and the deep connection I had to the music. I had loved ‘Banging on the Walls’ since it came out when I was 14 years old. "I am just a very busy fan. I can't believe it though, how long ago did they split?"
"When you started into law school, so I guess about four years ago." Sheila sounded down, my scholarly lifestyle always had this effect on her. She felt like my schooling was my way of rebelling against her. My mother had been the singer in a rock band, and then a song writer. Rock, and pop music were a big part of her life, and when she heard me say that I wanted to be lawyer, it was like a shot to the heart for Sheila.
“Well, I can’t go,” I said as I got out of the shower. “I have papers and studying, and a million things to do that I can’t just drop right now.”
“I can’t tell you how disappointed I am,” Sheila said. “I thought that I had raised you better. You won’t go to rock shows, I can never take you out drinking, and you made it through college with your purity intact. Who does that?”
“Dedicated students, mother.” That always got her. She hated a lot of things, but being called mother was worse than a paper cut to the ear. I got dressed in the closet thing I could find. Truthfully, I didn’t even look in the closet. I just pulled out a floral sun dress and threw it on.
“I saw Jeremy out,” Sheila said, looking to get a dig back at me. She was always telling me that Jeremy was going to leave cause he was bored. “He was with his new girlfriend…”
“What?’
“Yeah he has moved on,” Sheila smiled.
“He can’t move on, we’re still going out,” I said, but there was very little emotion in my voice. I knew why he was gone. I hadn’t even noticed him leave, so how attached could I have been.
“He sent you a break up text a few months ago, when I was over.” Sheila seemed delighted to have Jeremy out of the way. “I deleted the message and decided to wait and see if you would even notice.”
“A few months ago?”
“Back in November,” Sheila laughed evilly.
“It’s March!” I yelled as I looked at the calendar to make sure. “I have been single for five months?”
“You didn’t even really like him,” Sheila said flippantly as she sat down on the bed. “You just thought he was a good match for you. His father was a lawyer, he’s in med school. You were in love with him on paper not in real life.”
“And you think you can just decide these things for me?” I asked. She was right. I knew that she was right, because I wasn’t even upset. Jeremy had been a place holder, and I was being unfair to everyone keeping him around. He was right to leave, and my mother had saved me from months of anguish that I would’ve forced myself to go through, for a guy I didn’t care enough about to notice.
“Yes, dear.” Sheila put her arm around me, “Now, we need to look at this situation a little more closely. We are both single, it’s the beginning of spring break, we have concert tickets. I think it’s clear what needs to be done.” I started to shake my head no, “Oh yes honey, what you need a reverse intervention. It’s time for sex, booze, and drugs, and time for a little whatever.”
That was my mother’s biggest hit as a song writer, ‘Time for a Little Whatever’ it was sort of her catch phrase. It just meant go with the flow, but it with Sheila at the helm it always meant trouble. I sighed and looked down at the ground. She had made her point. I was already starting to give in.
I hadn’t always been this lost in my schooling. I was always driven and dedicated, but I used to make time for family and friends. It was just law school. It was so hard to get in, and then it was hard to even keep up. We were always being ranked and judged. Our grades were always made public throughout the law school. I needed to be the best it was like a sickness.
“All right, I‘ll go,” I relented. Sheila had been staring me in the eyes for the last two minutes without blinking. She was just going to keep staring at me until I gave in. “What do they even look like anymore, I mean they aren’t teenagers anymore.” Sheila didn’t even hear me she was too busy dancing aro
und me jumping up and down.
“We have to get into the car now if we’re going to make it,” My mother said as she ran her fingers through my wet hair. “The concert is in Jacksonville.” I couldn’t believe that my mother. She was always making plans like this. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my coat. “You’re not wearing that are you?” Sheila asked.
I looked over at my mother. She was dressed in a black leather skirt, a bright pink tube top, and a leather jacket. Her long blonde hair was flowing over the back of her jacket. She looked like she was headed to a concert. I looked like I was headed to church, or maybe like I was headed out to go shopping. Either way, I was not dressed for a rock show.
“I am going under duress,” I said as I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. “I will wear what I want to wear.” My mother opened my drawers and grabbed a few random articles of clothing. I wasn’t even looking.
“Just in case you change your mind,” She said and we headed off to start the long drive to Jacksonville.
Ch. 2 – Travis
“Why are we back here, Tray?” Hank said from behind his massive drum kit. Back in the day he had been famous for his long drum solos, but rehearsal was only five minutes in and he was already sweating.
“We are getting the band back together,” I shouted enthusiastically. I needed to get the others behind me. I could already tell they didn’t want to be here. “This is a reunion tour, but I wanted to get back in the studio and jam. I want to give the people something new.”
“And you think that is going to be a big selling point?” Mikey said. He was still tuning his bass. He hadn’t stopped tuning it since we got started and I was pretty sure he was just stalling. “This is a reunion tour, they want the old hits.”
“I want to give them the old hits and a few new ones,” I said. I knew I had lost them. “Come on guys, this used to be fun.”
“Yeah well, you used to write better songs,” Randy the rhythm guitarist said as he ran through some scales. “I mean ‘Seal of Love’ what is that?”
“I don’t know.” I walked over to Randy’s stand and looked at the music sheets in front of him. “Where did this come from?” I asked, but I was already staring down Gil, the new agent that we had been given specifically for the reunion tour.
“You said you were okay with it when I suggested using the song mill,” Gil was cowering, honestly cowering as I walked over to him. I threw the sheets in his face. It was unfair of me. I wasn’t even really mad at Gil, it was that he represented a step down for the band and for me personally. When I was 16 and on top of the rock world I always dealt with the best agents. Gil was an adjustment.
“So now you’re trying to buy songs?” Hank looked over at me accusingly. I glared back at him. I couldn’t believe what he was saying after living for so long on the strength of songs that I had written.
“I’m sorry, this is my fault,” Gil mumbled from the corner.
“It is your fault Gil!” I yelled, “And it is my fault, because I’m not used to dealing with a second-string manager!”
“I’m standing right here,” Gil whined.
“That’s why he said second string,” Randy laughed. “You wouldn’t’ve been allowed to look at us back in the day.” We all laughed at Gil. It was petty and unnecessary, but I needed something for the guys to unite behind. If it needed to be hating Gil, then so be it.
Gil stormed off and we all doubled over. “What was the deal with this song mill, do they only write songs about aquatic mammals in love?” Hank asked. I grabbed the sheets and started to read. There was one about a seal and one about an otter, and that’s when I remembered the email.
“No, I just thought that Gil would know I was kidding,” I laughed as I told them about the email where I told Gil I would only accept song mill songs that involve puns about animals in love. “Bob would’ve known I was kidding.” I thought about calling the old manager to let him in on the joke, but he was no longer taking my calls. I had trashed my last hotel room as far as he was concerned.
“So, I am going back to my original question, why are we back here?” Hank asked as he lazily twirled a drum stick in his hand. “We are all stinking rich, we are playing a crappy second string tour, I mean where are we even playing tonight?”
“Leviathan Tech,” I mumbled. It was too embarrassing to say out loud. “This is a warm up gig. Most of the tour will be at semi-respectable places…”
“And you aren’t playing tonight anyway,” Gil said as he came back into the room. “Tonight the label wants you to meltdown on stage. You need some drama to really sell this tour to the younger audience.”
I stared at Gil. I was trying to decide whether he was kidding me. It did sound exactly like our new label. Frantic Records was owned by our old label, and they were essentially the retirement home of rock. It was the label that the main label sent you to when you were no longer relevant. They had been putting out stories linking me to a young model for months now in hopes of selling tickets, and now they were upping the ante.
“The story line is that Christy broke up with you and you are too depressed to continue rockin’ on,” Gil said making the ‘rock on’ sign with his hand. It always looked so horrible when a suit tried to be cool. It pushed me right over the edge. I don’t even know how the bottle got into my hand. I cracked Gil on the back of the head. I took him down and hit him five or six times in the face.
I had been the lead guitarist, and lead singer of a hit rock band since the age of 16, it was hard for me to gauge my response to things. I often found myself flying off the handle at managers and agents, really any of the ten percenters were in trouble.
“What are you doing?” Hank said as he pulled me off of the limp manager. “Is he breathing?”
“Yeah, he’s bleeding real bad though,” Randy said as he helped Gil back to his feet.
I had seen the flashes. I barely noticed them, but as they continued to go I started to notice the bursts of light from inside the sound booth. I looked over to see a photographer flashing pictures of the scene.
“You can’t act like this anymore,” Hank said as he held me in place. “We have put up with your shit for long enough. The label let you do whatever you wanted, because you were a star, well guess what, you’re not a star anymore!” Hank’s mouth was only about an inch from my face. I could feel his anger and his spit. “When is the last time that you wrote a hit song?”
It was a low blow, but it was the truth. I hadn’t written any hits in five years, and I hadn’t written anything nearly as good as ‘Banging on the Walls,’ well, since that song was written. It was a song about my parents’ divorce and it was about something real that had happened in my life. I felt the emotions, and the pain helped me to write an amazing song.
I wrote a few other hits, but they were all based on my real feelings, and real things that were happening in my life. Nothing real had happened to me in a long time. I was insulated by the record label, they protected me from consequences and real life, and suddenly I didn’t feel anything. I had started creating my own drama, just to try and feel something, and that is when They Might be Rock Hyenas broke up.
“Why can’t you control yourself?” Mikey asked. He was still tuning his bass. He wasn’t even looking up at me. He was just listening to his bass, while all of this nonsense went on around him.
“It’s not like I am trying to do this,” I said as if that excused me from anything. “I have lived like this forever, what am I supposed to do?”
“You need to grow up,” Hank said. “Stop making these really pathetic excuses and grow up.” Hank led the charge out the door and everyone else followed. “I will do this tour, but only if you cut the crap and control yourself. If you freak out tonight we’re done.”
I sat down on the piano bench as I watched the others walk out of studio. I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and I waited for lyrics. I was in pain, I felt betrayed, or something I knew it. My fist hurt, that was for sure. Fist, fist, cease and d
esist! Nothing… I stared down at the paper and hoped that I would be able to get that magic back.
“Don’t worry about those guys,” Gil said, still holding a t-shirt firmly on the top of his head to staunch the bleeding. “All we need is a little buzz, and we could sell a reunion tour even without the rest of the band.” I looked at Gil incredulously, mainly because I had forgotten he was even there until he started talking, but also because his idea was so stupid.
“Did you not hear what the guys said?”
“Not really, but my ears are ringing, and I have a weird taste in my mouth,” Gil said as he stood up and took a few uneasy steps over to where I was sitting. “I think the main thing to remember is you’re the star, people will come to hear you no matter who is playing behind you.”
I was so sick of hearing that.
Ch. 3 – Jean
"So, did you transfer?" Monica asked as Sheila and I walked to the parking lot. "I haven't seen you since las semester." I smiled weakly and kept walking. It was a weird feeling to be a stranger on campus, and Monica was the third person to say something about not seeing me this semester. I live in the dorms, granted I don't have a roommate, but I still must leave the place sometimes. I was getting scared. I had become some sort of hermit and I didn't like it.
"We need to walk faster I whispered to my mother as more and more people started to stare. It was like I was on display. I could feel the eyes and hear the whispers.
"It's the crazy girl from 2 e," they were saying. I didn't need to hear it to know what they were saying. They all thought that I was a myth. Really this had been a problem throughout my schooling. I wasn’t a party girl, it was kind of like being a vampire. My schedule was just different than everyone else on campus. I definitely accomplished my learning goals in undergrad, but I missed out on a lot of the social elements.
I could see my mother’s car from a mile away. It was a yellow Volkswagen Beetle with brightly colored flowers painted all over it. I had always asked her how she could call herself an original thinker, having such a stereotypical car. “Some things are stereotypes for a reason,” Sheila would always say. We hopped into the car, I could feel the excitement starting to build.
