Big on Education

by Laurie Ames

  He didn’t die. In fact, he succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. He escaped from rehab. And years later, he found out that he was the only sixteen-year-old, in fact, the only teenager, who had ever successfully escaped from that camp.

  ***

  It was that same kind of gritty determination that had helped him transform from a rebellious, homeless spoiled kid trying to make his mark in the world to a successful world-famous rock star with nothing left to prove.

  “Well… are you going to drink it?”

  JD opened his eyes to see Frank sliding onto the stool on his other side. Frank was a brilliant band manager, and one of the shrewdest guys in the music industry. He had gotten it into his head that he would have stood a chance with Caitlyn, had JD not come into the picture and screwed up the possibility of romance blooming between Caitlyn and himself.

  “Well, are you drinking it?” Frank asked again.

  JD couldn’t answer. He never knew for sure if he was going to swallow the seductive contents in the glass or not. The devil on his left and the angel on his right would always argue until the last moment when he would get up and walk away. So far, he had always walked away.

  He sidestepped the question, giving Frank his crooked, cheeky smile that always infuriated Frank. “I just like to smell it, Frank”.

  “Smell it, huh? Tell me JD, you have not touched a drink for … how long?” Frank asked.

  “It will be one year, end of this week.”

  Frank whistled out loudly in mocking wonder. “That’s a long, long time JD. You must really want to drink what’s inside that glass, am I right?”

  JD just gazed into the shot glass. When Frank saw he could not get a rise from him, he changed tactics.

  “Miranda called me.” Frank said.

  JD inwardly sighed. Here-it-comes, he thought as he steeled himself for the verbal acid rain.

  “She wants you at the record company offices at 9am on the dot and not a second later. Or the whole deal is off. Don’t fuck it up!”

  JD felt a slither of anxiety slide up and down his spine. He needed this deal desperately. The indie record label founded and run by Miranda Palmer was his big break and only chance to make it back into the music industry. No record label wanted to sign a band with a lead singer who was unpredictable. Despite being sober for a year, the record companies had not yet forgotten the alcohol-induced, PR nightmare escapades that JD had reveled in. Now clear headed and sober, he realized he had burned a lot of bridges.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

  “You better be, JD. This is your last fucking — “

  “Last fucking chance. I get it.”

  JD had enough of this conversation. He wanted to get up but Frank stopped him with a firm hand on his arm. He was holding JD so tight that it could be interpreted as making a veiled threat. JD pulled to break away but Frank didn’t let go. This was the way bar brawls begun. He knew this because he had been in enough of them before.

  He briefly closed his eyes and collected his thoughts. “Frank, if this is about Caitlyn, I’m sorry. I honestly did not know that you were interested in her.”

  “Forget about Caitlyn.” Frank said as he laughed harshly. “Actually, you already did, didn’t you?”

  JD could feel liquid anger boiling to the surface, about to erupt.

  “Let go Frank. Now!”

  Frank saw something on his face or heard something in his voice and quickly let go of his arm.

  As JD walked out of the club, he admitted to himself that he would have given anything to have just one drink. But he knew very well that today of all days, “just one” would not be enough. So he quickly walked out of the club, Frank’s words following behind him.

  “Remember, it’s your last chance JD. Nine o’clock sharp.”

  Chapter 3

  I got an idea / Go tell the superstar / All his hairs are turning grey / Star-spangled fear / As all the people disappear / The limelight fades away. - Hymn for the Dudes

  JD was proud of himself. 8.45 Am. Fifteen minutes early. Five minutes later though, he begun to regret his punctuality.

  Chantal, the receptionist was being very enthusiastic towards him. Apparently, she was a big fan and she told him, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted to show her appreciation for the good music he had given her and the world in general. He thanked her, and then very diplomatically attempted to resist her advances. That’s when she dropped the subtle approach.

  “JD, I want to taste your dragon tattoo and follow its path.” She breathed, looking directly at the region around his groin.

  “I...err” he was literally at a loss for words.

  “You know, I love reading Celebrity Ink magazine… I adored your dragon tattoo and the way it snakes below your waist.”

  He laughed nervously, hoping his question would distract her from the dangerous path her hand was taking towards his waist. He asked “Do you have any tattoos?”

  “I have many tattoos. All over my body. I have a tattoo of a daffodil. I want your dragon to breathe fire onto my daffodil.”

  JD would have found the situation funny if it wasn’t so scary. Scary because Chantal was dead serious. He was no stranger to women offering themselves up to him. It simply came with the territory. Even after a year of being persona-non-grata of record companies, his former rock-star status still managed to get women all hot and bothered. He remembered something one of his band members had said, “You can take the rock star out of the rock star business but you can’t take the rock out of the rock star.”

  He had never understood the pull that his career had on women, or to be more specific, on women’s libidos. He had just accepted it as part of his job and had grinned and bore it, even enjoyed it most of the times. However, there was no way he was going to accept Chantal’s advances. She scared him. His instincts were screaming that something wasn’t quite right with her.

  “Don’t be scared JD. I won’t bite…unless you want me to,” She giggled.

  He tried to move away from her without making it too obvious. “Chantal, will Miranda be much longer?” Please, please let her be on her way here right now!

  “Oh, she’s on her way. She’ll be here in five minutes.” A smile slowly appeared on her heavily made-up face, and it was all JD could do to not run out of the room.

  “You know, five minutes is enough for me to make you very happy.” She wiggled her trimmed eyebrows suggestively. “And you don’t even have to worry about making a mess. I will swallow it all.”

  JD gulped convulsively. Chantal was not kidding. He could see it in her eyes that she was very willing and very eager to deliver on her promise. The thought of her mouth on him made the meager contents of his stomach threaten to travel back up his esophagus.

  “Your shyness is so hot!” Chantal was mistaking his resistance for shyness.

  “Don’t be shy pretty boy!”

  Due to years of practice, he used his will power to keep the contents of his stomach in his stomach and a disturbing memory of a hot night in a dark alley with two street bullies in the “not now” file in his head.”

  “Chantal, stop!”

  “Oh! I love a man who is playing hard to get!” She suddenly dropped on her knees and begun fumbling with his belt buckle.

  JD couldn’t help the fear-filled f-word expletive that exploded out of his mouth.

  “Not in my office you won’t.”

  JD looked up to find Miranda, his new boss, looking at the compromising situation he found himself in, with a disapproving look on her pretty face.

  “Miranda, I can explain. This is not what it looks like.”

  Miranda looked at Chantal who was still kneeling before JD, her hand still on his belt buckle, an unrepentant look on her face. Miranda sighed.

  “Chantal, how many times have I told you not to welcome our clients quite so enthusiastically?”

  Chantal giggled and finally, mercifully stood up. “Sorry Miranda. But I couldn’t help myself. It’
s JD. The JD!”

  “I am perfectly aware of who he is. All the more reason for you to behave yourself. Now get us some coffee.”

  “Right away Ma’am!”

  Miranda looked at JD. He was still frozen in the same position, totally at sea, not knowing what to say or do. Then Miranda smiled and something in JD melted like a puddle. That smile unexpectedly transformed her face from cute to absolutely gorgeous. She looked amazing. Tall, slender, and jeans so tight they must have been painted on. She was wearing a designer punk t-shirt that was slashed down the front, allowing a perfect view of the flesh curves of her breasts in a black bra. She was sexy as hell while giving off a vibe that said “Don’t you dare fuck with me.” JD was infatuated.

  “Hey JD, sorry about Chantal. She has a thing for rock stars.”

  “That’s okay. I’m used to that stuff. Kinda goes with the territory.”

  “Oh really?” She said raising an eyebrow.

  “What about you? Do you have a thing for rock stars too?” asked JD.

  Chapter 4

  “Music executives develop and sell music. They oversee virtually all aspects of the recording process. Their influence is wide, but their tenure is short-lived if they fail to deliver chart-topping hits. It’s a tough competitive business.”

  ‘Do you have a thing for rock stars too?’

  It was not just the highly inappropriate question that got Miranda off balance. It was the way her new client was asking it, with that sexy voice that hinted at hot sweaty, passionate sex. It was that intense look on his face that seemed to be riveted on her, like there was no one else on the planet but her.

  Miranda had heard stories and interviews about JD’s magnetic personality, about the way he could unconsciously suck someone into his personal space. All one could do was revolve around him, like a satellite orbiting, held to him with his own unique brand of gravity. Experiencing it first hand was disorienting, exhilarating and at the same time frightening.

  She shook her head to clear the heat that had suddenly engulfed her. JD interpreted the head shake as an answer to the question he had asked.

  “So that’s a no? Such a pity.” He spoke in a low, soft voice that made Miranda think of a secluded beach, a blanket under the stars, his hard-masculine tattooed body on top of her…

  He was blatantly coming on to her and it was lighting a fire under her libido. She cleared her throat and walked briskly towards her office, suddenly needing to find refuge behind her big oak desk. She had to place a barrier between this magnetic man and herself, to restore the balance of power. She was in charge of his career and had to be the one in control. ‘I've got to somehow keep this relationship platonic,’ she reminded herself over and over as she sat down behind her desk.

  Chapter 5

  One Year Later

  The music got louder as Miranda got closer to the recording studio. She opened the door and stepped inside. JD and his band – Abe, Simba and Joe - were behind a glass screen, with JD shouting out instructions and his band members nodding in acknowledgement. On tour, there would be a much bigger team including backup singers, sax players and violinists, but this would be recorded as more of an acoustic set.

  Miranda was proud of her accomplishments for the past year. She had invested a lot of time and money into this man. It had been a hard year of conscientious work to get to this point, especially keeping things strictly professional between JD and herself, this despite the mind-addling mutual attraction. There was the other burden of keeping an eye on JD so that he wouldn’t relapse and making sure he attended his AA meetings. Then there was dealing with promoters, radio show hosts, social media strategists, photographers, album cover artists. She was exhausted but in a good, satisfying way.

  Collins, one of the recording studio staff who happened to also be her ex, pulled out a chair for Miranda behind the mixing desk and sat down beside her. She looked down as he scribbled in a notepad then looked up at JD’s side profile as he talked to the band members. He was wearing a tight, short-sleeved black t-shirt emblazoned with the name of a popular heavy metal band at the front. A part of the dragon tattoo could be seen on his forearms and his guitar was stretched across his chest. A cord trailed from the acoustic guitar, hanging behind him, leading to an amp. The band members nodded at whatever he was saying and he turned to face the glass, as he swung the guitar around in his hands. He started to strum the guitar and Collins turned up the sound on one of the dials in front of him.

  Miranda recognized the tune. It was an acoustic version of one of his earlier hits. JD stepped up close to the microphone, his lips touching it as he started to sing. His voice filled Miranda up, warm and soulful. She became mesmerized, frozen, unable to tear her gaze away.

  JD looked up and it was like an electric shock as his eyes penetrated Miranda. They became locked in a stare with each other. It was a passionate stare, a stare that revealed a need for each other.

  Then JD suddenly looked back down at his acoustic guitar. Miranda could tell he was purposely avoiding meeting her eyes again. The song finished and JD turned back to his band members, as though Miranda was never there.

  Miranda suddenly felt overwhelmed. Tears pricked her eyes. She glanced at Collins and was surprised to find him calmly watching her.

  “Miranda, it’s been one year. When are the two of you going to admit that you have feelings for each other?”

  Miranda stood up, nervy with embarrassment. “I should get back to work,” she said, fidgeting.

  “Right,” Collin replied, shrugged and looked down at his hand, his pen hovering over a blank sheet in his notepad.

  Miranda walked to the door, but then stopped to glance back at JD for a moment. In that same instant, JD met her eyes again, his expression intense.

  As she turned and walked to the door on shaky legs, she had one thought repeating over and over in her mind. ‘Please don’t let me fall, please don’t let me fall, please don’t let me fall!’

  She let herself descend into the welcoming arms of the mountainous paperwork in her work tray and the vast emails in her inbox. Several hours later, she stopped for a growling stomach and wondered if JD and the other band members might be hungry by now.

  She went to the kitchenette and prepared some sandwiches to hold their appetites as she prepared a modest meal for them. She was determined that on her watch, JD and the other guys would eat healthy. As she prepared the sandwiches, she listened with pride at the music coming from the recording studio. It sounded mind-blowing! His voice was incredible! And she had been a part of making all this happen.

  By the time she was taking the sandwiches to the recording studio, the music had stopped. Collins was still sitting at the mixing desk, although the only dial he was touching was the volume. He got up quickly to hold back the door as Miranda nudged it open with her right shoulder, tray in hand.

  She couldn’t help but glance over at JD. He was looking annoyed behind the glass. He nodded at Miranda, acknowledging her presence, and swung his acoustic guitar off his shoulder. The other band members stayed behind the glass as JD entered the room.

  “I’m tired of this!” he growled as he grabbed his cup of coffee. “You can take that in to them,” he said to Collins. Collins picked up the tray and Miranda grabbed one sandwich for JD before Collins took the rest to the band.

  “I think it’s sounding great,” she said as she handed JD the sandwich. He didn’t even look at it.

  “It sounds like crap,” he snapped.

  “Here. Maybe you’ll feel better after eating something.”

  “You think a sandwich can just fix everything?” he bellowed.

  Miranda’s eyes narrowed in anger, staring him down.

  “Stop looking at me that way! Just…stop looking at me. Aaargh! I can’t fucking concentrate! I’m going to bed!”

  All she could do was look at his departing figure as he stormed out of the studio.

  Chapter 6

  His subconscious must have had enough. It
was the combined stress of a whole year of yearning for Miranda plus another month of endless song writing, recording and rehearsals. Not to mention the constant internal battling of his indecision and doubts.

  Do I still have what it takes to record a number one album?

  Do I still have what it takes to go on tour?

  Do I still have what it takes to get a phenomenal woman like Miranda? Have I lost my swagger?

  And the nightly job of trying to keep his nightmares at bay. His “not now” folder was threatening to overflow and when he fell asleep, his subconscious decided to give him some much-needed release…

  ***

  “Babe, who have you been aching to fuck for the past year?”

  “You Jason Dunford. It’s always been you, no one else. Now shut up and make hot passionate love to me!”

  His tongue started to part her swollen lips, searching for her clit. Miranda gasped and grabbed a hold of the sheets. Her legs parted wider to allow his tongue better access.

  He licked up and down and circled around her clit. At first, he lapped tenderly but as Miranda’s cries became louder and as her trembling body lifted up off of the mattress, his licking became faster, harder…

  Miranda came hard, her juices pouring as she screamed out her orgasm and shuddered. But he didn’t stop. He just kept on licking, his jaw tight as he ate Miranda out. She screamed yet again, her eyes closed tight…

  “Look at me when you cum!” he ordered as his fingers replaced his tongue.

  Miranda moaned loudly and rotated her hips towards his hand, attempting to get his skillful, teasing fingers inside her. Every single inch of her body was trembling under his touch. Her breathing became raspy as he toyed with her sensitive clit. She whimpered and slid her trembling hands from his hair to his broad shoulders and gently raked his tattooed skin with her nails. Her hips began moving to a tempo that was as old as time.