Wilde Velvet
By
Deila Longford
2013
Blog: http://deilalongoford.blogspot.co.uk/
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Deila-longford/341582502598985
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DeliaLongford
Acknowledgments
This book is dedicated to my loyal fans
I love and adore each and every one of you…
One
The crowd is busy –crap my heart is about burst. I peek through the black curtains and I see the faces of the impatient club-goers. They don’t look impressed as they wait for me to grace the stage. I never get nervous, but tonight my anxiety levels are through the roof. I moved to Los Angeles about a year ago. So that I could pursue music and my time here in tinsel town, has been far from glamorous. I live in a run-down apartment building on the west side of town. I share my tired, two bedroom apartment with my best friend, Sydney. I love music and I have been singing and writing songs for as long as I can remember. Music completes me. I love the feeling I get when I hear a new song for the first time. It’s like no other feeling that I have experienced. I adore music. It’s my passion. My world and its everything that I live for. So when I was twenty one, I decided that I needed to branch out and try to fulfil my dreams.
I am originally from Dallas. I was raised by my mom. I have never met my dad. My mom said that he was just a sailor on leave and she hooked up with him, and I am the result. I guess it’s been kind of tough growing up without a dad. But I don’t feel as if I have missed out on anything. My mom and I were inseparable. We always did everything together and I know that it wasn’t always easy for her to raise a kid on her own. But she did the best that she could. We never had much money. My mom would work two jobs so that we could make rent. Our car was always in the shop. I didn’t have expensive clothes like all the other girls in school. But that didn’t bother me. My mom taught me to look on the brighter side of life. We could have had it much worse, and my mom always taught me to be thankful for the things that we did have.
When I left Dallas my mom took it really badly. She was used to me always being there. We did everything together and when I left, a little part of her died. It still pains me when I call her. I miss her so much, but I needed to get away. My life in Dallas was … complicated and I couldn’t stay in that city for a moment longer. So I packed up my entire life and I moved to California. I was lucky that I managed to find an apartment and a job. I work during the day as a waitress in a small, but elegant restaurant. My nights are consumed by going out and playing small gigs. I spend most of my free time at the beach. I love the ocean and I have to admit that since I moved here, I love this city.
“Ashley!” My best friend Sydney shouts as she rushes towards me. Her long black hair is flowing as she marches in my direction. Her dark eyes are narrowed, and her lips part as she grows closer to me. “You ready?” she exclaims when she finally reaches me. I smile at her as I try to hide my anxiety. My heart is in my mouth as I gaze out at the sea of dark suits. Oh crap they look so business like and I am terrified to sing in front of them. I try to compose myself. Calm down Ashley.
I pull the curtains closed and Sydney and I walk over to the back of the waiting area. I scan the faces of all the other musicians who are also waiting to play. A few of them stick out from the crowd. A tall skinny guy with jet black hair is strumming on his guitar. Over at the other side there is a boy band. I smile at them. They look as if they have raided Vanilla Ice’s closet. There is a long table that’s filled with bottles of water. My throat feels a little dry. So I reach out and lift a bottle of Evian from the surface. I pour the water down my throat, and then I focus my eyes on Sydney. She looks very excited, nervous and worried all at the same time. She is dressed in her typical ‘EMO’ clothing, which consists of a black t-shirt and dark skinny jeans with a studded belt. She has on her favourite shoes, her black and white Chuck Taylors. Her long black hair is poker straight and her eyes are thick with eye liner. She is very curvaceous and I keep on telling her how amazing she would look in a nice dress. But dresses and feminine things aren’t really her scene. I am not exactly sure why we are best friends. We have nothing in common. We don’t like the same music. We don’t have the same interests. I like to hang out at the beach and go swimming. Sydney likes to stay indoors. She hates the sun and I worship it. Sydney loves to draw and I can’t stand it. We are so different, but somehow we are best friends.
We met about a month after I moved here. Sydney’s a waitress at a coffee shop on Sunset called ‘Flavour’. I was exploring the city and I came across the sweet coffee shop. Sydney served me. We got to talking and she told me that she had a spare room. I was staying in a motel at this point and I was desperate to find a place. I was a little worried at first. Sydney’s appearance was a little intimidating and I had never really met anyone like her before. But she was so friendly and welcoming. I have a hard time warming up to new people. But I somehow instantly clicked with Sydney. I moved in the next day, and we have been friends ever since.
“You look nervous.” Sydney says as she pushes her hair away from her face. I glug down my water in a violent manner, God I wish this was stronger.
“How can you tell?” I say sarcastically. Sydney chuckles and then she tries to reassure me that everything will be okay.
“You’re gonna be awesome. You have an amazing voice. Now go on and kick some butt!” I laugh at her joke and then I nervously tie my caramel coloured hair into a loose pony tail. I can hear the crowd starting to cheer and my heart level increases. A guy with earphones around his neck and a clipboard in his hands is heading my direction. He marches over to me and he locks his eyes on mine.
“You’re on first. Come this way.” He says as he abruptly pulls me by the arm. I rip my arm away from him and I follow him. Stomping my feet as I try to keep up with his pace. He leads me to the side of the stage and he begins to write something on his pad as he explains what he expects me to do. “Now, you only get one song so make it a good one. You’re on in three minutes, so get ready. I’ll introduce you. What’s your name again?” He says as he pulls his eyes away from his writing.
“My name’s Ashley Scott Harper,” I say as I nervously bite my lower lip. The guy smiles at me and then he rushes past me onto the stage. The crowd roars at his appearance and he taps the microphone before he speaks. My heart is racing. Focus Ashley. This is your dream come true.
Once a month, ‘Club Vixen’ hosts a special night for up and coming new talent. It’s a very tough to get on the line up, but my friend Zane knows Paul -the guy who owns the bar. Zane’s mom is married to Paul’s dad. So he was able to pull a few strings to get me a spot on tonight’s line up. Paul is very well respected in the music world. He knows everyone, and all of his friends are either music producers or musicians. I have only ever met him once. He is charming, kinda cute and he did ask me out. But, I politely refused. I was worried that I might have offended him by turning him down. But I was glad when he declared ‘NO HARD FEELINGS’.
“Please welcome to the stage, Miss Ashley Scott Harper!” The guy shouts through the microphone. The crowd roars and that’s my cue. The black curtains drop and I am standing looking out at the crowd. My mind begins to rush, and I see the black suits of the music moguls sitting at a large round table. I nervously bite my lower lip, and I can feel my hands starting to shake. But I remember how bad I want this, so I compose myself and I glide onto the stage. A spot light is shining on me, and there is a standing microphone and a stool. I smile at the crowd and I laugh when I hear a few whistles and cheers from the guys in the front row.
“Nice Legs,” one of them shouts. I smile and glance
down at my legs. I was at the beach today so I’m really tanned. My little white shorts look sheer against my skin and my bright yellow crop top shows off my slim waist. I sit down onto the stool and I pull the microphone towards me. I love the feeling of being on stage. It’s amazing, I live for music. I do open mic nights almost every night. I adore being on stage and sharing my music with people. It makes me feel, special and needed. A song can help you through so much. You just have to believe in it. Music has gotten me through so much pain. If I could just help one other person through a tough time, then that’s what makes everything worthwhile.
I look at the music executives and then I close my eyes. The guy from earlier runs onto the stage and he hands me my guitar. I sling the strap over my shoulder and then I begin to play. The crowd quietens as the sound of my guitar strums through the entire club. I close my eyes as my lips part to let out my sound.
“Da Da Da Da
The smell of your skin lingers on me, now
You're probably on your flight back to your hometown
I need some shelter of my own protection baby
Be with myself in centre, clarity, peace, serenity.
I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, myself and I
We got some straightening out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've gotta get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Don't cry, Don't cry, Don't cry”
I finish the song to a roaring applause. My heart is pounding in my chest, but in a good way. I stand up and take a bow, and then I reluctantly pull myself off of the stage. I run backstage, and everyone is clapping as I walk past them. I smile as I rush into the bar. I’m searching for Sydney and I see that she is already at the bar. I run over to her, and she wraps her arms around my neck when I reach her.
“You were awesome. That song was chilling. You rock!” I laugh at her. Thank God it went good. My head is spinning and everyone around me is applauding and telling me how good I was. I am so flattered and excited. But I am nervous as I see a chubby African American guy walking towards me. He is a music mogul. I can tell because he was one of the dark suit wearing guys at the table. I can hardly see straight as I watch him walk over to me. He reaches me and he immediately holds out his hand for me to shake it. I firmly shake the guys hand and then he begins to talk.
“I’m Don Phillips. I’m the CEO of BeatBox records. I just wanna tell you that your performance really impressed me.” Is this for real? I shake myself. Stay calm Ashley.
“Thanks, I’m Ashley it’s nice to meet you.” I say in my most professional voice. I want to scream. The CEO of BeatBox records was impressed by my performance. This isn’t real. I must be dreaming.
“I would love to hear you play again. Would you mind dropping by the studio tomorrow?” I can’t hold back my smile.
“Sure, I would love to.” I gush. The guy laughs and then he focuses on his vibrating Blackberry.
“Okay, be there at eight. I gotta run.” He answers his phone as he walks away from me. I collapse on the nearest bar stool. Sydney flops down next to me. We are both speechless. I can’t believe that this has happened to me. This could be the break that I have been waiting for. I am so excited, anxious and nervous. I need my meeting with him tomorrow to go well. Music is my world. I have dreamt about this so many times. I have wanted this for so long. Music means everything to me and I have to make this work. Tomorrow could be the start of my dreams. I need to pull off the performance of my life.
Sydney orders us a couple of beers and then she turns to face me. Her eyes are big and glossy. She is smiling from ear to ear, beaming as Mr Phillips’s words ring in our ears. The barmaid slides two bottles of Corona along the wooden surface of the bar. Sydney and I both grab our drinks and down them in an instant. My mind is rushing. I can’t believe that I have a meeting tomorrow at BeatBox records.
“Can you believe what just happened?” I say, as I place the bottle down onto the surface of the bar. Sydney narrows her eyes at me.
“Of course I can believe it. You have the most chilling voice. You’re amazing.” I slightly blush at her words. Sydney has always been supportive of me. She really is my best friend. I was lost until I met her. I didn’t know anything about this oversized city. Everyone thinks that Los Angeles is all about ‘Hollywood, but that’s not true. There is so much more to LA than just the movies. There are so many different cultures with all sorts of different people. I was amazed when I first moved here and if I am honest, I still am. I was so lucky that I met Sydney. She gave me somewhere to stay and she welcomed me as her friend. She showed me the city and she introduced me to so many interesting people, like Zane. He is amazing, really kind and very sweet. He and I get on great and I have enjoyed getting to know him. My life is so much better since I moved here. Don’t get me wrong, I really miss my mom. But things in my life were complicated and I never allow myself to think back. I have endured so much pain in the past that I am washed out. I gave up a stressful, heart-breaking life, so that I could live drama free and pursue my music. I don’t regret moving here. It was the best decision that I have ever made.
“Thanks, but I’m nervous. What if I blow it?” I rest my heavy head against the surface of the bar and I let out a deep exhale. I feel Sydney’s hand against my shoulder and I look up to meet her stare.
“If you sing like you did tonight, then you will blow them away.” She’s right. I need to stay positive. Mr Phillips wouldn’t have come up to me if he didn’t think that I was talented. He must be interested in me and he did say that I impressed him. I laugh and Sydney chuckles with me. Then she jumps off of the bar stool and says. “I gotta pee.” I nod and I watch as she rushes in the direction of the bathroom. I sit up straight in the stool and I begin to scan the faces of the club-goers. Everyone is having such a good time, and the guy that’s playing is really good. He is singing ‘I will wait by Mumford and Sons’ he sounds awesome. I focus on his face as I begin to mouth the words. He has a really powerful voice and I could listen to him sing all night long. I begin to sway in my seat, and my body temperature rises. It’s so hot in here, I need another drink. I spin back around to face the bar, and I’m startled when I see a guy standing really close to me. He is massively tall with dark greased hair and big brown eyes. His skin is golden and his fashion choice is out of this world. He is wearing dark slim fit jeans, which are tucked into brown Gucci high-top sneakers. His dark blue t-shirt is visible under his dark brown leather jacket and his outfit is tied together with a matching Gucci belt. He has a very beautiful face. Nice full lips and a perfect nose. His skin is luscious and his hair is immaculate. He smells incredible and he looks very … European. He is staring at me, and I realise that I am staring back. I quickly drag my eyes away from him, but my subconscious is angry with me. I’m forced to look at him again. He lightly licks his lips as he reaches out his hand. His dark eyes meet mine, and as his lips part, I make a wager with myself. I bet he’s Spanish or Italian.
“Hello, may I buy you a drink?” I am shocked; he has a fluid American accent. My eyes focus on his and I smile at him. His hand is still extended towards mine, and I feel stupid that I haven’t shaken his hand. I reach out and I place my hand into his. I jump. His touch his electrifying. I quickly pull my hand away from him, and I readjust myself in the stool. Mr handsome is still staring at me. He is very intimidating and very smug. His full lips part again. I am getting the feeling that he is a little impatient. I feel my cheeks firing up as I catch him staring at my legs. I feel really uncomfortable around him. I can’t accept his offer to buy to me a drink. I slowly climb off the bar stool and when I stand fully in front of him, I really appreciate how tall he is. I am five-six and I have three inch heels on and I still feel dwarfed by him. I try to maintain my composure as I politely refuse his offer.<
br />
“Thanks but I’m good.” I say in a firm voice. I flash him an awkward smile and I turn to walk away from him. I’m surprised and a little concerned when he strides towards me and pulls me back around to face him. My heart starts to pound as he begins to talk.
“Why won’t you let me buy you a drink? Have I done something to upset you?” His voice is smooth and all-American. I shake my head; he should have a foreign accent to match his looks. I pull my hand out of his and I look up into those eyes. He smiles at me, and he looks really young and playful. I can’t deny that he is a stunning guy, but I am just not interested in getting to know him. My main rule for my new life in LA is that it has to be a guy-free zone. I am not looking for love or that one prefect guy. I came here for one reason –music. I am not going to get distracted by some gorgeous guy. I have come so far. I can’t go back to my old ways, not now. Things in my life are starting to turn around and who knows; maybe tomorrow my life will change forever.
“How could you upset me, I don’t even know you? Now if you’ll excuse me.” I spin around, but he pulls me back again. My heart is racing, this guy is so annoying.
“Get to know me. My name is … Jonathan. But my friends just call me John.” I roll my eyes at him. He is so annoying, why won’t he let me leave? I am used to guys hitting on me, but this guy is taking it to a whole other level. I need to get away from him. He could very easily be the distraction that I am desperately trying to avoid.
“Look it’s not personal. I just gotta go, but it was nice to meet you … John.” He bites his lower lip and he runs his fingers along his jawline. I am little mesmerized by him, but I’m forcing myself to act cool.
“Okay then leave!” He says in a bitter tone. I am a little startled by his firmness and I don’t feel comfortable around him. “Better yet I’ll leave!” He says through a set of pearly white teeth. I watch him, stunned as he pushes his way through the busy crowd. I flop back down onto the bar stool, and my hands clasp together. What was that? Who was that guy? I try to compose myself as Sydney sits down next to me.
Wilde Velvet Page 1
