Between a Rock and a Hard Place

by Jenna Galicki

  “The whole plane probably heard us,” Tommy said. “I thought this was going to be a quickie. We’ve been in here for a half hour. And it stinks of sweat and sex.”

  Jessi started to worry that maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Their love making wasn’t restricted to a time frame. There were no scripted encounters. It was spontaneous and nothing could dictate its course. She opened the door a few inches and squeezed into the cabin without making eye contact with anyone. She kept her head down and focused on her feet as they took her back to her row. Tommy and Angel should have waited longer, but they followed her out of the bathroom only a few seconds apart.

  As soon as they were seated, Jimmy casually walked by with an unknown female passenger on his arm. He stopped by their seats and smiled as big as the Cheshire cat. “Very nice.” Then continued toward the lavatory.

  Damien and Alyssa snickered in their row and Jessi peeked at them through the opening between the seats.

  “You wanna be next?” Damien asked Alyssa.

  She raised her eyebrows and flipped her long black hair over her shoulder. “You’d have to wash that bathroom down with a fire hose before you’d get me in there. I can’t even take a piss now that they desecrated it.”

  Jessi laughed and they caught her spying on them. Embarrassed, she clasped her hand over her mouth and faced forward in her seat. There were rustling noises and Alyssa and Damien were whispering. Jessi snuck another peek and saw Damien had his seat reclined flat. Just before she turned back she saw Alyssa duck her head under the blanket that covered Damien’s lap.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The band’s arrival at Heathrow caused an uproar. The fans were secured behind a long barricade, while a separate, smaller area was sectioned off for the paparazzi. Blinding flashbulbs lit up the airport the moment they stepped through customs. Screams from the fans nearly sent an unsuspecting elderly couple into cardiac arrest. Angel took it all in. This was the city he was most anxious to visit. It was the birthplace of punk rock, a genre that was ingrained in his blood. He studied the fans and their punk rock attire. He loved the cut up T-shirts that were held together with safety pins, the plaid leggings and the colorful hair and makeup that surrounded him.

  He watched Jessi with the fans. She was inspired by their fashion and took dozens of photos with her own phone. An excited glow emanated from her face. She was in her element and his heart swelled with love for her at times like this. Her graduation, the extravagance of her store and the success of its grand opening were long overdue.

  Security hustled them out of the airport and escorted them to an exquisite limousine. Jimmy dove inside and went straight to the bar. He poured himself a short glass full of vodka with ice and a splash of water before he leaned back in the seat and spread his legs out in front of him. “This is the life, man, first class all the way.” It didn’t take long before he started tapping the seat to the beat of the music that played on the JBL stereo system.

  Angel saw Alyssa cringe. The flight was rough on her and Jimmy’s jittery mannerisms and constant movement was annoying the hell out of her.

  “Why the fancy car?” Damien asked.

  Angel shrugged. “I have no idea. I was expecting a Suburban.”

  “We’re rock stars now.” Jimmy took a long swig of vodka. “Fancy cars and expensive liquor – that’s the way it’s gonna be from now on, man.”

  Angel knew who was behind the generous means of transportation and accommodations as soon as he walked into the elegant hotel suite. Tommy and Jessi wandered around the elaborate room, but Angel went straight to the bottle of champagne on ice and the small card next to it.

  Thank you for making the Asia tour something I’ll always remember. Best of luck in Europe. We’ll be there before it’s over. Wouldn’t miss it for the world! Love, Audra and Kira

  They were the most endearing girls he’d ever met and he owed them a huge debt of gratitude. His phone buzzed and he thought it was going to be one of them, but it was Marissa.

  “¡Hola!” he cheerfully sang into the phone.

  “Get Damien and Jimmy. I’ll be there in 30 minutes.” Her voice was curt and irritated. There was no greeting or pleasantries, and it was unlike Marissa to be rude.

  “Is something wrong?” His merriment was quickly replaced by defensive sarcasm.

  He heard her draw on a cigarette. It was another out-of-character action on her part.

  “I’m introducing the band to your new tour manager, but first we need to have a little discussion that’s not for his ears. Just make sure Damien and Jimmy are there before I am.”

  Then the line went dead.

  Marissa’s face was rigid as she brushed past Angel and into the suite. Angel was left holding the open door while she marched over to the couch where the rest of the band, plus Jessi and Alyssa, were gathered and tossed her brief case on the coffee table. When she realized Angel didn’t follow her, she turned and scowled at him. “Close the door.”

  Angel glared back at her, annoyed at her brash attitude and wondered what caused it. He had never seen her anything but poised and professional before.

  Her eyes never left him while he walked the short distance from the doorway to the couch. She jabbed her index finger in his direction. “I went to bat for you with Mr. Abelman. I put my career on the line to save yours. Do you know how hard it is for a woman to rise to the top in a male dominated industry? I worked my ass off to prove myself worthy of Mr. Abelman’s respect. He trusts and values my judgment.” She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at everyone. “Why are you constantly trying to prove me wrong? Mr. Abelman is not in the habit of giving second chances. He’s a proud man with an impeccable reputation.”

  Angel wasn’t sure what caused Marissa’s tirade, but it unnerved him and was cause for alarm. He exchanged worried glances with Tommy and Jessi while he waited for Marissa to continue.

  “I just got a phone call from the airline.” Marissa made eye contact with each one of them, before her eyes rested on Angel. “Your actions were deplorable! Do I need to remind you that you’re famous now? Your conduct reflects on Falcon Records. Every single passenger in the first class cabin was offended by your lewd behavior and complained to the airline.”

  “Every passenger?” Jimmy stuck his chest out and wore a smug grin. “I think one girl in particular would have called to thank them and write a letter of recommendation.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Jimmy! This is serious. You’re lucky that I was the one who booked the tickets for you and got the call because anyone else would be on the phone with Mr. Abelman right now. I suggest you all act a little more responsibly. And another thing.” She retrieved a sheet of paper from her briefcase and shoved it at Angel. “What the hell is your underwear doing on eBay?”

  Angel stared down at the eBay advertisement. There was a small photo of his and Tommy’s underwear lying in the sand on the beach in Hong Kong, and a fuzzy photo of the two of them wrapped in the blankets walking back to the hotel.

  “You’re lucky your heads are covered in that photo and no one can prove it’s you.” Marissa glared at everyone. “You’d better be on your best behavior from now on. I guarantee you that your tour manager isn’t going to put up with – ”

  The knock on the door silenced Marissa. She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “Not a word of this to anyone.” She smoothed down the front of her jacket and glided toward the door with her usual grace.

  “It’s very nice to finally meet you face-to-face, Mr. Jackson. You’re right on time.”

  He was quiet for a moment and gave Marissa a brief smile while he shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, and call me Angus.” He was probably expecting a stuffy, conservative business woman behind the no-nonsense voice he dealt with on the other end of the phone, not a young, attractive woman.

  Marissa escorted him to where everyone was seated. “Gentlemen, this is Angus Jackson. He’s been with Falcon Records for a little over two years, stationed he
re in our London office. He’ll be managing the European tour. He’s a stickler for order and continuity, so adhere to the schedule and try not to give him a hard time.”

  Angus Jackson was tall, in his late thirties and obviously a British national. His accent was fluid and melodic, pleasant to the ear. The breezy tone of his voice contradicted with his tough exterior.

  Angus lifted his chin as he purposely assessed each one of them. Not a hint of a smile or an ounce of friendliness was readable. He could have been a guard for the Royal Palace with his stone-faced indifference.

  Angel watched him closely. Angus weaved through them, pausing every few seconds as his eye rested on something that caught his interest. He stopped at Jessi. “So you’re the big clothing designer from New York.”

  Even though his comment was more of a statement than a compliment, Jessi was flattered and flashed a dazzling smile, which Angus didn’t bother to return. “Thank you. I just opened my own retail store last week.”

  Angus continued his assessment of the band without responding to Jessi. He took a step toward Damien and stared up at the rebellious mohawk. Damien’s imposing glare challenged him, but Angus returned an approving nod of his head and moved on.

  Angus stuck his hands in the pockets of his slacks and leisurely strolled a circle around Angel, giving him the once over. By the tightness of his lips, Angus seemed less impressed. “Very old school punk rock. The Joey Ramone look is a tad bit dated, but it works.”

  Apparently this new manager had plans for a makeover. Angel didn’t know whether to be more insulted at being told his look was dated, or flattered for being compared to Joey Ramone. He chose the latter.

  A snort left Angus’ nostrils as he made his way over to Tommy.

  Tommy planted his feet shoulder width apart and stuck his chest out, ready for a confrontation.

  Angus Jackson cracked his first smile. “Tommy Blade. The man with the golden hair and the golden guitar. I’m looking forward to hearing you play. I’ve been around music my whole life and I’ve never seen nor heard anything like you. You bring a unique sound to punk rock with those intricate guitar solos. Who would have thought to infuse heavy metal into punk rock the way you do?” The smile left his face. “But why don’t you cut that bloody hair? And a Rob Zombie T-shirt? At least wear something that represents the punk rock genre.”

  Tommy cocked his jaw and straightened his shoulders. “My background is hard rock. I blend it with punk rock. That’s what makes me different. And I’m never cutting my hair.”

  “You don’t have to go as radical as Mr. Diamond’s mohawk or colored hair.” Angus extended his arm toward Jimmy, “Have a gander at Mr. Wilder.”

  Jimmy, who was bored with Angus’ critique and sat on the couch methodically tapping his foot, stood up at the mention of his name.

  “Sit back down, mate. You’re good. The pork chop side burns are splendid. Rockabilly influenced punk rock.” Angus turned his attention back to Tommy. “Chop off that bloody rocker-do and blend into the image of the band, for fuck’s sake.”

  Tommy gritted his teeth. “I’m not cutting my hair.”

  Angus nodded his head, at no one in particular. “Alrighty then, we’re done for today. Get yourselves settled in. Do some sightseeing tomorrow and enjoy it, because the following day we have our first gig, and I want everyone at the venue at 10:00 a.m.”

  “Isn’t that a little early?” Damien asked.

  “No. I want to get a firsthand listen to Immortal Angel and we have to do a sound check. I know young rock stars like to party, but you aren’t going to have any free time. You’re going to be working while on tour. Falcon Records wants to put together a second album before the tour is over. We have studio time booked throughout Europe to coincide with your days off.”

  They exchanged uneasy glances. Touring was hard work and exhausting. The small amount of free time was often used for luxuries, such as sleep and relaxation. So much for Angus’ light and breezy accent. The man seemed like he was going to be a major pain in the ass.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jessi jumped out of the taxi and ran into Trafalgar Square. When Angel caught up to her, she was in front of the massive fountain gazing up at sky. “This is what I always dreamed about,” she said, “traveling the world, visiting foreign cities and marveling at the culture and landmarks. I can’t wait to see priceless works of art in the National Gallery. I want all of us to walk across Abbey Road and I want to shop at Burberry and Vivienne Westwood.”

  She smiled at Angel and he felt a sense of warmth in his chest as he read something in her eyes. She walked up to him, never breaking her gaze or smile, and put her arms around his neck. “If we never met you, if you never called me that day and set up an audition for Tommy, we wouldn’t be here right now. We wouldn’t be famous and we wouldn’t be whole. You made Tommy happy in a way I never could and you make me happy. I love you, Angel.”

  She placed a long closed-mouth kiss on his lips. He was about to give her a deeper kiss, but regrettably, she pulled away and flew into Tommy’s arms. She was talking quietly, so Angel really couldn’t hear much of what she was saying, but it sounded like she was commenting on how amazing their life turned out.

  Angel never realized how much she meant to him until they were separated last month. He depended on her for so many things, but most of all it was her companionship that he missed. They shared their love of fashion, fame, arts and culture, and they shared the man they loved. Tommy brought them together, but their relationship blossomed and flourished. She made his life full.

  Damien, Alyssa and Jimmy stepped out of a taxi to join them fifteen minutes later than expected. Alyssa paused to look around the wide open space, not in awe like Jessi, but with mild interest. Her long dark hair was stark black in the daylight, darker than Angel’s. It emphasized her fair complexion and complemented her ruby lips.

  “Why are you staring at me?” she asked.

  Angel stumbled for an answer. “I . . . wasn’t.”

  “I can’t believe you’re making us go to a museum. Me and Damien aren’t exactly connoisseurs of fine art.”

  Jessi looped her arm through Alyssa’s and pulled her toward the National Gallery. “Come on. It’ll do you good to look at something besides porn once in a while.”

  Angel turned to Damien. “Were you having second thoughts about going to the museum?”

  “Not really. It’s not my thing, but it won’t kill me.”

  “It’s my fault we were late,” Jimmy admitted. “I got a beat in my head and it wouldn’t go away. I had to record it.”

  Even though fame hit Jimmy the hardest, he never lost sight of his dedication to the music. Angel often worried about Jimmy and his playboy lifestyle, bedding an assortment of woman and partying in clubs until dawn.

  A sweet guy, with immense talent and zero responsibilities in life, Jimmy had the potential to succumb to the dark side of fame and fortune. His overindulgence of women and alcohol could prove to be a lethal mix. So far, Jimmy had managed to walk a slim line on the right side of the fence, but he could easily sway in the wrong direction. Angel needed to remind himself to keep an eye on his drummer.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Iconic in its glory, the London’s 02 Arena sat at the edge of Peninsula Square on the River Thames.

  Angel embraced Tommy’s hand. “Do you remember when we talked about this day, in my apartment? It was a dream, a fantasy, and here we are.”

  Tommy’s eyes opened with child-like wonder as he took in the impressive venue through the window of the limousine. “I remember, but I honestly never thought we would be at this point so soon. I can’t believe we’re really going to play here tonight.”

  The car stopped and Jimmy stuck his head out of the window to talk to a group of girls who were wearing Immortal Angel T-shirts. Before the car slowly crept away, two of the girls stole a hug and a quick kiss. When Jimmy stuck his head back in the window, his slicked up pompadour was disheveled.

>   Angel laughed. “I didn’t think that thing moved.”

  Jimmy combed it back into place. “It’s all about hair product.”

  Angel shook his head at the irony. He was the only gay man in the group, yet he was the least preoccupied with his hair.

  The limo pulled up to the back entrance of the 02 Arena, where fans gathered in hopes of getting an autograph, a photo or even a glimpse of Immortal Angel before the show. The band stopped to momentarily sign some autographs, but Angus pushed them along. “That’s enough, now. We can’t talk to everyone, you know. We got a show to do.” Angel tried to protest, but Angus was relentless. Even Jessi was corralled into the venue.

  Angel peeked out from the side curtain at the enormous arena. He never expected to fill a stadium the size of the 02 Arena. Hell, he never expected to book the 02 arena. Even though Immortal Angel boasted four number one hits off their debut platinum album in the United States, they were still a newcomer on the music scene and this was a venue that prided itself on booking the most sought after talent.

  Damien joined him at the side of the stage. His mohawk caught on the heavy velvet curtain and he flipped it away with annoyance. He poked his head out to observe the audience and whistled for emphasis. “That’s a helluva crowd. I gotta say, this is one of the highlights of my life. My crowning achievement. Besides winning over my girl.”

  The usual hard façade that Damien always wore quickly melted away and there was real emotion on his face. It was a mixture of humbled disbelief and gratitude.

  Angel put his hand on Damien’s shoulder. “We may have had a rough start and the band suffered a few setbacks, but we’re not a garage band. We’re all stars in our own right. Together, there’s no holding us back. We haven’t reached the top yet. We’re still on the up rise. There’s no telling how far we’ll go in this business, but I know there’s so much more ahead for us. I knew we just needed to get our music in front of the right people. You were there from the beginning. You were the foundation of this band, Damien. It was just me and you sitting on that scruffy old couch, in your rundown apartment, writing songs.”