CLASS ACT (A BRITISH ROCKSTAR BAD BOY ROMANCE) (7 page)

I had taught students in plenty of strange and difficult conditions. I had taught in Burma when a civil war raged on. I had taught in Uganda where running water was a luxury. However, I had never taught a student during the middle of a countrywide concert tour.

With what little time he could spare, Heath had given me a whirlwind tour of his rock band as we entered Philadelphia. Double Damage was a strange band to say the least. It would be difficult to even describe them as a typical rock band. For one thing, it technically only had one member.

You see, most rock bands typically have four members. Take the late and great Queen for example. Freddie Mercury was their charismatic front man who took charge of the lead vocals. Brian May handled the guitar. Roger Taylor played the drums. John Deacon, my personal favorite, took care of the bass guitar. Double Damage wasn’t set up like this.

The group started as a duo with Heath Lawrence and Howard Lane. Most of their early songs were guitar duets. They had a rotating list of collaborators to handle other instruments and backup vocals. However, the two were the only core members of the group. That was until Howard’s untimely death due to leukemia.

Now, Heath was the only remaining member of the band in what was a solo career for all intents and purposes. He had fought against management changing the rock band’s original name. Even in death, Howard’s legacy would live on through the band.

Nevertheless, Double Damage had attracted quite a cast of eccentric characters.

Heath was of course the prima donna of the bunch. He got special treatment wherever he went. The man had his own hotel room when the rest of the crew had to share rooms. Heath even had his own private tour bus. He got all the glory and the girls.

Thankfully, the remaining musicians were more down to earth.

Relatively speaking.

Tyler was the lead guitarist. He had been the longest serving collaborator with Double Damage. The man had played for them back when they were an indie group trying to make ends meet.

Tyler’s accomplice in crime was Dave. The man handled the bass portion of the equation. As expected for a bassist, he was covered from head to toe in tattoos like Flea from The Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Rounding out the team was Ryan as the drummer. He wasn’t originally supposed to be here on the tour. However, the original drummer fractured his hand in an accident and couldn’t play. An admirer of Double Damage, Ryan was more than happy to fill out the vacancy. Not to mention that he had stood in for Double Damage before as a backup drummer.

I guessed they were all hired because they were so used to Heath’s antics and could tolerate his caustic personality.

Then, there was Jared who wasn’t an actual musician. Instead, he came from management. Not only was he Heath’s personal manager but also one of the managers for this tour in America. As far as I knew, this man held everything together. This included Heath’s career which was precariously balanced on a knife’s edge these days.

He was the one who approached me to tutor Heath. Jared seemed like a decent enough man if a too little focused on money and schedules. During our interview, he spent more time texting on the phone or having phone calls about his stock portfolio than talking to me.

Rounding out the team was Mr. Han. A former soldier in the Chinese army, the veteran was the head of security for the group. He made sure everyone who met Double Damage was vetted and the arenas they visited had proper security.

He must have done a background check on me as well. Heath had specifically told me not to piss him off since he was a black belt in various martial arts and a crack shot with a gun. Mr. Han was one of the few people who could get the notorious playboy to behave.

“So you must be the one teaching Heath his ABCs.”

Tyler’s voice broke me out my thoughts. I saw the handsome guitarist sitting across me on the tour bus. I gave him a smile. “We’re working on more advanced topics.”

“Not by much I imagine,” he said, his Irish accent betraying his Gaelic roots. Some gorgeous woman was half asleep on his lap. “Heath’s a musical genius but he’s got no mind for numbers. And he’s a prick to boot. A talented prick but a prick, nonetheless.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m used to problem students.”

“At least, you’re riding with all the other peasants,” he chuckled. The woman on his lap stirred awake and took him in for a brief kiss. I suspected she wasn’t officially part of the tour. “Heath only used to let his old pet dog, Susan, ride with him. And all the other bitches he likes...”

I looked at the woman next to him. “Did he treat Howard the same way?”

Tyler smiled. “No, he always knew how to deal with Heath and his bullshit. God, I miss that guy.”

“You knew him then?”

“I worked with Double Damage back when they were playing for a half-pence a day in some hole in the wall in Liverpool,” he said proudly. It must have been a decade ago. “Heath had a temper but Howard could defuse him like a one man bomb squad. The two couldn’t be any more different but they were the best of mates.”

It was something chewing over. “The opposite of Heath Lawrence? So Mr. Rogers?”

“Nothing that extreme,” he laughed. “Aye, Howard was a smart lad. He even had a Ph.D. in music theory and mathematics when poor Heath could barely add up the week’s groceries. A damn shame the cancer got him when it did. We lost someone truly special that day.”

That didn’t sound too unusual. Brian May from Queen was an astrophysicist and mathematician with a Ph.D. “I would’ve loved to meet a man like him.”

Tyler continued. “He and Heath were like night and day. They still manage to make this band of theirs to work.”

Suddenly, the bus came to a stop. I turned to the guitarist and asked. “What happened?”

He picked up his belongings. “We reached our destination. Let’s hope Heath isn’t hung over.”

I glanced out the window to see Heath leave his bus. “He looks sober enough…”

Dave the bassist chuckled. “Let’s see how long that lasts!”

As if on cue, Heath entered the ‘peasant bus.’ His dark hair was slicked back with designer hair gel. He wore a pair of faded jeans and an unbuttoned shirt. Bare muscle and dark tattoos could be seen on his exposed chest. “Come on, get up! We got a show waiting for us. Up!”

Tyler raised an eye. “What’s gotten into you?”

Ryan the drummer added. “Isn’t this usually the other way around? You were half asleep last time.”

Dave laughed and shot me a wink. “Did that new teacher of your promise you extra points if you behaved?”

“Oh, fuck off Dave,” Heath hissed. “I just want this fucking tour over with so I can skip back over the pond and get back home.”

Tyler smiled. “I’m sure they’re dying to have you back after you shagged half the record label’s management.”

“None of the fans give a fuck about you,” Heath growled. “I’m the man they’re here for. Count yourself lucky that you’re even able to play on stage!”

Ryan joked. “You never let us forget, Heath.”

“That’s because I’m the one who’s putting food on the table,” he retorted. “Now let’s get this fucking show over with.”

It was a strange exchange in the city of brotherly love.

The rest of the crew grumbled and got their belongings. I left to get a breath of fresh air and stretch my legs. Jared briefly talked to Heath about some business issues. I wondered if his studies were now a legitimate business conversation topic.

Soon, Heath passed by me and whispered. “We have some time to go over a lesson. Follow me to my bus.”

I shot him a look of surprise. It was strange for him to take initiative. Not that I minded. “Okay…”

Together, we boarded his rather messy private bus. I tiptoed over empty beer bottles before taking a seat across from him. The man slumped against his chair as I rummaged through my documents.

“What’s on the agenda, teacher?” he probed. “That writing exercise from earlier was like swallowing glass.”

I smiled as I took out blank sheets of paper. “Then get ready for a second serving.”

He groaned. “I should’ve kept my damn mouth shut.”

“Writing is just like any other skill,” I replied, handing him the worksheet. “You have to practice it before you get good at it. I’m sure it’s the same with your guitar playing and singing.”

He took the worksheet from me. “How long will it take for me to get well at it?”

“As long as you need,” I answered to his frustration. “It could be a few months. It could take years even. You just have to take it one day at a time.”

His first exam would arrive in six months. At his current skill level, he would fail the GCSE in a spectacular fashion. With Heath likely suffering from dyslexia, it was likely going to be an uphill battle for him to even get a passing grade.

Heath sighed as he put paper to pencil. “I guess we’ll be working together for a very long time.”

“Don’t rush ahead, that’s how you made mistakes last time,” I critiqued. Heath doubled back and started again. “It doesn’t have to be unpleasant. Just don’t treat me like you do your bandmates.”

He gave a short laugh. “You need a thick skin if you want to be play on stage, especially with a man like me.”

“I heard about Howard and how he got a degree in music and mathematics,” I mused. “He sounded like a really talented man.”

Heath looked up from his writing exercise for a moment. “Like I said, he was the brains of the operation. He had the willpower to buckle down with a book each night and go to a university.”

I caught a glimpse of his piercing blue eyes. It felt like a bullet passing through my heart. The very breath in my throat flowed like sand.

That man bled charisma. He was the complete package from his striking eyes to his sexy body. His voice could make women moisten their thighs. No wonder he found his purpose in life by becoming a rock star.

He poked me with his pencil. “Charlotte, are you on the level?”

I blushed as I said. “Come on, that writing exercise isn’t going to finish by itself.”

For the next few minutes he wrote and I instructed. He was a poor student but not necessarily an unmotivated one. With some hard work, I think he had a shot of doing well enough to earn his certification. Nonetheless, it would be an uphill battle.

After he finished, Heath nursed his writing hand. “Damn, I’ve had practice sessions less strenuous than that. Makes you want to leave the all the writing to the media.”

I sucked in my lower lip before speaking. “Heath, do you like being in the media’s spotlight all the time?”

“I’ll admit it comes with benefits,” he said with a small smile. Soon, it turned into a frown. “I’ll also admit it does get to you sometimes. I can barely go out to buy groceries without some blogger writing about it. I like having time to myself. Even these damn lessons feel like a relief.”