by RH Tucker
She smiles, then glances down at her wrapper. “Anything else? I feel like I’ve been talking about myself during this whole lunch.”
“You’re fine,” I tell her. “I could listen to you all day.” Her eyes jump up and meet mine, this time forcing me to look away, internally screaming at myself for saying that out loud. Shaking my head, I try to recover. “I mean … um, yeah. Other than those things, I don’t have time for a whole lot. What with work and college.”
She seems to have recovered herself, though I don’t know if she was as surprised by my comment as I was. “That’s right. What are you going to school for?”
“Teaching. I want to be a music teacher.”
Her lips spread in a wide grin. “Austin, that’s amazing. Me and the guys got together in middle school, but I had this music teacher at Karmichael High my freshman year. She was so encouraging; I can totally see you being like that.”
“Thanks.”
“What’s your family think?”
“My mom’s a teacher herself, so she loves it. My dad, not so much.”
She wrinkles her nose. “What does he do?”
I swallow a lump of nerves that instantly appear. Do I tell her? I know if she doesn’t hate him, she thoroughly dislikes him. What would she say if I was to tell her he’s my dad? Especially after the fleabag comment a moment ago.
I don’t want to chance it. I like being around her and getting to know her. I’d hate for her to look at me differently because of my stupid father. “He’s in business,” I answer. She waits for me to explain. “Um, he’s based here in the city, but he’s on the move all of the time. He has clients all over the world.”
She grins. “Clients and business? What does he do?”
“Um … he runs an agency firm. He and his agents represent, uh, certain celebrities.” It’s basically true.
“Oooh,” she coos with a smile. “Confidentiality and all that. I get it. Peter doesn’t like us talking about other bands he reps.”
“Right.” I let out an uncomfortable chuckle. “He’s the reason I have the job I have. He kind of put in a good word for me.” Again, it’s basically true.
“So, you’re working at Rich Records, but you want to be a music teacher. Careful, Austin. This music business can eat you up and spit you out.”
“You seem to have done okay.” Holding a French fry, I wave it around the restaurant, smiling. “Look at where we are. You can eat double bacon avocado burgers anytime you want.”
She grins. “That is a perk.”
She takes a sip of her soda while I continue to stare at her. Shawn was right. I am totally crushing on this girl. I knew how pretty she was, but what’s impressed me the most is how down-to-earth she is. I’ve met some pretty famous people, and most of them have some level of professionalism mixed with pleasantness. But it’s mostly because they have to be. If they’re a jerk and let that show, it’ll get around the business and eventually hurt their career. They’re nice because they have to be. Jade is nothing like that.
I didn’t see the diva-like attitude she displayed with Shawn, but even that is understandable to me. She wanted to keep a low profile and was freaked out when the photographers showed up. But she’s been more than cordial with me. She’s been friendly. And honest. She doesn’t have any kind of attitude from being one of the most well-known rock stars in the world. And being with her today, she’s been entirely at ease.
“What?” she asks, catching me staring.
“Oh, nothing.” I look away, scratching my neck.
“No,” she replies, smiling. “What?”
Meeting her gaze, I wish I could see those emerald eyes locked behind her sunglasses. “Seriously, it’s nothing. I just … you’re not what I expected.”
“Expected?”
“Not that I was expecting anything. What I mean is … You’re friendly and warm. You’re not the—” I cut myself off and then look around, whispering, “You’re not the Queen of Kings some might expect.”
“Is that a good thing?” she asks with a slight giggle.
I lift my shoulders, smirking. “I think so. Kristen.” The use of her first name inspires a smile from her. “I gotta say. I kind of like calling you that.”
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t know. Everyone calls you Jade. And I know it’s your name and everything like that, but … Kristen is simple. Easy.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.”
Picking up a fry from the table, I throw it at her, laughing. “It’s a compliment. Hey, you could be a total snob when you’re in public, but I’d never know it. Jade could be a diva. But this person? Kristen?” My eyes linger on her, and her skeptical grin has morphed into a curious one. “Kristen is kind. I like talking to her.”
Reaching over the table, she takes my hand. “Thank you.” My eyes remain locked on her, my smile staying in place. Her head moves, glancing down at our hands. Shyly, she pulls her hand away, looking at her tray of scattered fries and a burger wrapper. “I’m full.”
I let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, me too. I should probably let you get back to work.”
I can’t shake a memory. Listening to her play her song on the first day I met her, I was drawn to her. Utterly mesmerized. But at the time, I thought it was simply her soft voice mixed with those powerful lyrics. That I had been charmed by her song.
Talking to her now, feeling her hand over mine, I know it’s not just her music. It’s her. But she has a boyfriend. She’s a superstar. And if those reasons weren’t powerful enough to jolt my system awake, and remember we live completely different lives, my father should be. She hates him. And she has no idea I’m his son.
13
Jade
This past week I’ve been able to get in some good sessions in the recording studio. Lily—who’s running late to meet up with me right now—accompanied me one of the days. The other days I’ve been by myself, and it’s been refreshing. I loved having Maddox in the studio with me before Bret showed up, but ever since then, I haven’t wanted to see either of them. Bret texted me more than once, asking if it’s okay if he shows up. I told him no the first time, but have ignored his other messages. And I really don’t want to hear Maddox complain anymore about Bret.
Oddly enough, since that day and the argument, I’ve also had a different thought: Austin.
It started innocent enough. I mean, it is innocent. I didn’t do anything or say anything. Okay, I have been secretly anticipating him coming in to check on me in the studio. He’s only done it a couple of times, and we chat for a few minutes before he lets me do my thing. It’s not like I’m cheating on Bret because that would be crazy, I’m not even thinking about doing anything like that, I just …
I’m rambling.
What I’m trying to say is when Austin offered me a break that day, and when we went out to get a couple of burgers, it was just a nice lunch away from the studio. At least, that’s how it started. But somehow by the end of the lunch, it felt … different.
I had a couple of boyfriends before Bret, but it was never anything serious. With Bret, even though we have music in common, we don’t really connect on other things. He’s all work all of the time. And I get it. I know how bad he wants to break out with his band, and I understand that that’s important to him, but even being with the Kings, other things have always been important to me, too. Not just music.
I love certain times I get to hang out with Maddox when it’s only us. It didn’t happen much, but every once in a while, we’d hang out on the tour bus and just watch a movie. Or go back home to Karmichael and visit my parents and the few friends I’ve kept in contact with from school.
I love my girl time I have with Lily. It’s those little things that people can take for granted that I tend to long for more and more. Being at lunch with Austin, I felt that. It doesn’t hurt that he’s cute, too. But, seriously, he has this calming effect around me. After eating with him, I can totally see the McConaughey point Lily was
making. The actor seems so relaxed, and Austin reminds me of the same thing.
Maybe the thing that’s drawn me to him most is not only how easy it seems I can talk to him, but that he listens. I’m sure the guys would listen to me, but all we usually talk about is music or touring. It’s been so long since we’ve just hung out or played music for ourselves.
And Bret? Everything I tell him, it seems he always tries to use it as a way to further his career. I want to believe that he doesn’t do it on purpose—like he’s deliberately ignoring my thoughts and ideas—but sometimes I can’t tell. I’ll mention something that’s not even related to music or the business, and he’ll somehow ask how I can use that in my music. Or on tour. Or with recording. Which inevitably returns back to him and if I mind if he uses something, or goes somewhere, or if I can get him a meeting with someone.
Austin lets me talk, probably too much, and he never asks me about the next step in my career. Or what my future touring schedule will be, or which producers I want to work with. He just lets me talk about normal, everyday things. And he listens. His brown eyes stay on me, nodding along to whatever I’m saying, or he laughs at some lame joke I make. It feels like I’m his entire world for those small moments, and no one else matters to him but me.
Okay, Jade. You might be getting ahead of yourself there.
It might sound overdramatic, but that’s really how it feels. He doesn’t care what I’m talking about, he only cares that I’m there with him. It doesn’t matter to him that I’m Jade Barkley, the Queen of Kings. As a matter of fact, I’m still smiling a week later, remembering that he said he likes to call me Kristen.
Hitting the record button, I head into the recording studio. I take a seat on the stool, pull the microphone closer, and strum my thumb over the guitar strings. Picking at them, something takes over, and out comes a rhythm that is softer than the other stuff I’ve been playing.
You don’t want the starry life,
And you don’t want to tie me down.
I’ve been through the rocks and now feel like clouds.
You look from the outside, but don’t make a sound.
I don’t know how you see me now,
And I don’t know why I feel this way,
All I know is you know my name.
Still playing the guitar, I tap the wood paneling, pulling up a beat, feeling weirdly at ease at this different sound.
“Who knows your name, Jade?”
I look up and see Lily smirking at me from behind the glass. “Hey, you finally showed up.”
“I know. Sorry, I got stuck in my biology professor’s lecture.”
“It’s all good.”
“So … who knows your name?”
I bite my bottom lip, setting my guitar down. “No one.”
“Right.” She narrows her eyes at me. “It wouldn’t be a certain someone, would it?”
“Of course.” I jump at the opening she’s giving me, smiling. “Maddox knows everything about me.”
“You know that’s not who I’m talking about.”
“No, I don’t know that.” My brow furrows. “Who are you talking about? EJ? Derrik? Bret?”
“Definitely not Bret.”
I roll my eyes at her comment, making my way back into the mixing side of the studio. “It’s just a song, Lily.”
Leaning against the mixing board, she cocks her head to the side. “And the next thing you’re going to be telling me is you’re working on a lyric that involves avocados and bacon.”
“Bacon goes good with everything.”
We both start laughing, and I take a seat in the chair, fidgeting with one of the levels on the mixing board. I told Lily about eating lunch with Austin, but I didn’t say anything else or act like it was more than it was. At least, I don’t think I did.
“I’m sure Austin would go good with everything, too.”
“Lil!” I scold her, slapping her arm. “Come on, it was just lunch.”
“A lunch you said you felt totally at ease at.”
“Because I did.” My fingers nervously tap the wooden table.
“And you felt like for the first time in a long time you were talking to someone who honestly wanted to listen to you.”
“He did.”
“You see where I’m going with this, don’t you?”
“I see that you’re being crazy, is what I see.”
“Fine, fine.” She waves her hand in the air. I don’t know if I should believe that she’ll drop it. Every once in a while, Lily will get a thought in her head and won’t let it go. “What are we doing tonight?”
“I wanted to hit up my brother’s gig over on Venice Beach. It’s some kind of beach party Adam Coleman is throwing, and Maddox is deejaying it.”
She paws at the air, purring. “I’m so glad your brother is friends with Adam Coleman. I could stare at that yummy piece of man candy all day long.” Her playful tone halts and her face drops. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“I can’t make it tonight. I just remembered I’m supposed to go to my aunt and uncle’s anniversary party.”
“Aw.” I frown. “Don’t worry, I’ll send you pics of Adam so you can drool over them before you go to sleep.” We both start giggling, and I hit the lights to the studio. Flipping up my hoodie, I put on my sunglasses. “How do I look?” I ask.
Although the paparazzi have died down some since they were tipped off, a few still linger outside. They continue to take pictures, but the less they can get of me, the better.
“Like a stalker.”
“Perfect.”
14
Austin
Okay, I have to admit something. The glitz and the glamour from celebrities doesn’t really faze me. Put me in a room full of actors, rock stars, or even national sports heroes, and I’m fine. I was in the room when my father signed a deal for an artist to perform at the Super Bowl. The very next day, I watched him make a deal with a seven-time Grammy award winner. I’ve seen all of the stars, and it doesn’t affect me. I’ve come to learn that people are people. Some are more well-known than others, but if you strip that all away, they’re just like everyone else. They all have dreams or desires.
That being said, getting into fancy celebrity parties is certainly fun. Which is what I’m doing now. An artist for Rich Records wanted to get access to a huge beach party being thrown by Adam Coleman, a big-time Hollywood actor. The artist was coming out of the studio when she asked if I knew anyone who could get her in. It’s a frequent card people like to try and pull on me. I’m the boss’ kid, so they think I might be able to get some special privilege or entry into the hottest parties or concerts around. I usually can.
It wasn’t a big deal, and as I was telling her it’d be no problem, and I’d make a call, Shawn overheard the entire thing at the front desk. As I pulled out my phone to get her on the list, he wiggled his eyebrows at me, a huge grin in place, and then proceeded to beg me to come to the party and bring him along. After protesting that I didn’t want to be around and try to act like I was schmoozing all the guests, I finally caved. He’s my best friend, and he never asks for anything. But I could tell how bad he wanted to go. I’ve been to a couple of Adam Coleman parties, and they can be, in a word, epic. Since Shawn is not only my best friend but also my roommate, I figured why not.
So here we are, on the boardwalk of Venice Beach, atop a brand-new rooftop club. I’ve noticed Maddox Barkley a few times, but I keep telling myself it’s because he’s Maddox Barkley of the Kings of Karmichael. Not because he’s Jade’s brother.
“Austin!” An attractive, blonde pop star wraps her arm around my neck, kissing me on the cheek. “I’ll be in the studio next week!”
I smile at her, the scent of alcohol on her breath causing me to shake my head. “Hey, that’s great, Bex.”
“My manager said your dad wants to bring in Gabe Philips to produce my next record. I can’t wait!” She drunkenly kisses my other cheek, then runs away.
Shawn sl
aps my shoulder. “You see! You always get the good ones.”
“Shut up!” I push him, laughing. “I didn’t get anything. You know damn well she, like all the others, only try to schmooze me and everything else because of my dad.”
He smirks, lifting his shoulders. “I know. Hey, I’m gonna hit the restroom.”
“Yeah, man.”
Shawn takes off to the bathroom while I continue to mingle around the club. Waving to a couple of more people I recognize from the opposite side of the room, I see Maddox again. And again, I wonder if Jade is going to show up. I have to stop thinking about her. She has a boyfriend.
“Hey,” I hear a voice behind me, then feel a slap across my shoulders.
Turning around, I see the cosplay rock star who was talking to my dad. “Oh, hey …”
“Bret.”
“Right. Austin.” I extend my hand to him, and he shakes it. “How’s it going, man?”
“It’s going great.” He’s holding a red cup, and his words almost mix together. He’s not drunk, but he’s definitely under the influence. “Hey, so are you like, a producer or something?”
“No, why?”
He fidgets with his hand, nervously looking around the club, taking another drink from his cup. “Oh, I just figured you were with Mr. Richards, since you were all dressed up and everything. Are you, like, a marketing manager? Do you work with distribution?” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out a CD. “I always keep a demo on me, and I’d love for you to give it to Mr. Richards. I know I’ve given him one already and we have a deal set up, but I really want to make sure he knows how bad I want this. I’m serious, I’ll do whatever it takes. Anything. Anything at all.”
I chuckle, pushing the CD back to him. “Dude, dude. It’s all good. Look, I don’t work with acquisitions or anything like this. He’s my father.”
“Oh.” A soft, glazed look falls over his eyes. A new expression appears on him that says he doesn’t know why he’s talking to me. Then, like all the others, he realizes I’m the boss’ son. “Oh! My man, you gotta get this to your pops, then. I’m telling you, it’s punk and I know Rich Records doesn’t usually sign punk bands, but we’re the shit, man. We’re the next Ramones.”
