Rocked in the Light (7 page)

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Authors: Clara Bayard

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College

BOOK: Rocked in the Light
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“On a break from an interview.”

“Ugh. Sorry.”

I shrugged. “It’s okay. Hey, um…how are you doing with everything?”

“Okay, I guess. It’s hardest on Rick.”

I tensed at the sound of his name.

“Listen, I know he’s been a real fucker lately. But…” He stopped and looked around. “Never mind. I shouldn’t say anything.”

“It’s okay. You can tell me.”

“No, no, I can’t. It isn’t my place. But I will say this. He’s better with you, Julia. I know it can be hard to tell, but trust me. I know him. He’s a pain in the ass but…give him a chance.”

Sighing, I fiddled with my hair and avoided his gaze. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but it isn’t like that with us.”

Matthew put his hand on my arm. “Yes, it is. I see you. Both of you. Stubborn and growling at each other. But there’s more there. A real connection. Don’t let your stubbornness kill it. His, either.”

“I…okay.”

“Just tell me you’ll talk to him, okay? And soon?”

“I will.”

“Good. Well, you better get back to your interview.”

“All right.” He was ten feet away before I added, “Thank you.”

Going back to finish my interview was the last thing I wanted to do. My mind was full of roiling confusion. Work and life and friends and sex and all of it. Too much. I wasn’t equipped to deal with this stuff. What I needed was simple. Write songs. Sing songs. I could rock almost any musical style but I had no idea how to deal with people for real.

But Matthew’s words had punched a hole in my armor. And now sappy, weepy, useless, inconvenient feelings were seeping out, taking over.

I shoved everything down, forcing it away from the front of my mind and off of my face. That was another thing years in the business has taught me. How to put a mask on. So I did, and then walked back outside with a spring in my step and a smile on my face.

Robert was chowing down on some chips and guacamole, and scribbling in his notebook. I’d noticed he hadn’t taken his computer out once we left the hotel. Probably to help me relax, think of us as just friends having a chat. Clever. And sneaky.

“I’m back,” I said, sliding into my seat.

“Great. Help yourself to the food if you want.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t take a bite. There was no way I could eat anything with my stomach in knots. “So, where were we?”

“Actually, I think we’re almost done for today. We’ll have more time to chat tomorrow before your photo shoot.”

“Oh, right.”

“I did have one more thing.”

“Okay.”

“To prepare for this interview I went back and read a bunch of quotes from you when you were a kid. You said once that when you grew up you wanted to be a famous singer. Touring the country and singing songs you wrote. And here you are, doing just that. So tell me, Julia Clark. What’s it like to achieve your dreams at twenty-one years old?”

I chuckled. “I’m sure I was a lot more grandiose in the direct quote. Man, I was such a driven little shit. But to answer your question, it’s amazing, of course. It wasn’t easy to get here and it’s going to be ever harder to stay here, but I’m willing to do the work. Willing to do what it takes.”

“So what’s next? Do you have another dream? Something to do before you turn twenty-five?”

“Well, a Grammy would be nice. Really, no, I’m not sure. Right now I’m focusing on what’s right in front of me. And that’s thousands of miles and dozens of cities.

“But that’s the thing about dreams, right? When one comes true you just come up with a new one. Or, I do. Even when I was an eight-year-old in a cereal commercial, seeing myself on television for the first time was crazy. And what I wanted. Once I had it I figured out the next step. Granted, I don’t know what could possibly be bigger than this, but trust me, I’ll figure it out and let you know.”

“Any ideas?”

“Aside from that Grammy? Maybe headlining my own world tour.” I laughed. “But really, for now, I’m just taking it one city and one day at a time. Trying to make every show even better than the one before it.”

“So you are still striving.”

“Of course. I have to. It keeps me going. Keeps me from stagnating, getting bored.”

“Does it keep you from appreciating where you are, always trying to do better?”

“No. Absolutely not. Maybe for some people. But I’m a shark in that way. I have to keep swimming or I’ll die.”

“That must be hard on your personal life, being so driven, as you put it.”

“Sometimes, maybe. But as long as I can find people who can keep up, we can swim together.”

“Fantastic. Thank you, Julia. That’s all for today. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“All right.”

We bid each other goodbye and he left. I stayed there, looking out at the pool. It was starting to get crowded, but I spotted Matthew stretched out on a lounge chair. I waved as I picked up my phone and dialed my mother’s number to let her know the interview was over. She, of course, wanted to know everything he asked and how I answered. I gave her vague information, but inside I was thinking about something else altogether.

What I’d told Robert was true. I never stopped moving. But I didn’t ever think I’d find someone – a friend, a family member or a lover – who could keep up. But on the road, for a time, I had found more than one friend, and a guy who excited and infuriated me like no one else.

I never felt safe with Rick, exactly. We spent too much time screaming at each other for that. But I was also never bored. Never ashamed to be myself. And maybe that’s what sharks need more than safety. Another shark to swim next to.

I lump formed in my throat and I realized I didn’t want to lose this. Rick, the rest of Dream Defiled, everything. Not just for my career, but for my heart, too. That knowledge felt like a ton of bricks landing in my lap. It was terrifying. Having everything I ever dreamed of meant now I had so much more to lose.

But that wasn’t going to happen. I wouldn’t let it. Not this shark. I’d fight and scratch, just like I always did. But this time it would be to protect what I have. And that meant talking to Rick. And helping his band get their shit together if I could. It was daunting and scary. And worth it.

Six

I spent the rest of the day trying to get Rick alone, but I failed. Repeatedly. I tried his room, but it was empty and he wasn’t answering his phone. Then when I headed over to soundcheck I found out he’d just left. I ran into Joe backstage but didn’t want to ask him. The guy looked fully miserable.

“Hey,” I said, heading to my dressing room.

He slouched against the wall and smiled weakly. “Hi Julia. What’s happening?”

“Not much. You guys did soundcheck early, huh?”

“Yeah.”

I hadn’t spent much time with Joe since everything got weird, but the change in him was drastic and depressing. His easy smile was gone. There were dark circles under his eyes and the magnetism that made him a star was all but missing.

“You okay?”

“Sure. Same shit, different day.”

“Joe, look. I don’t want to pry or anything, but if you’re not okay, it won’t just get better by pretending it doesn’t suck.”

He sighed and crossed his arms. “I know.”

“I know we’re not best friends or anything, but I am a good listener. If you need it. It can help to talk to someone who isn’t super close to you.”

“Thanks, but I’m okay. Just tired, I guess.”

“It’s more than that. I’m sure you know people are talking.”

He nodded. “I’m tired, Julia. Exhausted by everything. Even my band. Especially my band. This is all I ever wanted but now I kind of want to run away. Hop on a plane and go see my girl, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand.” I didn’t, actually. Not for a second. He was the lead singer of the biggest band in the country right now and he wanted to leave that all behind to hang out with a college student? Liss must have been made of magic. That, or things between him and his bandmates were worse than I thought. Either way, it was bad news.

“I gotta run. See ya later.”

“Bye, Joe.”

I went on to my dressing room and found one of the wardrobe people waiting for me. Apparently one of my suitcases had gone missing and I didn’t have anything to wear tonight. Someone was off trying to get an emergency dry cleaning, whatever that meant, but in the meantime I had to figure out a backup plan.

That took forever and by the time I’d eaten and showered, there wasn’t a free minute to talk to Rick. I was annoyed, but somewhat grateful for the distraction the show provided. My set went well and the crowd was amazing.

Since I was up first, I had some time after coming off stage to hunt Rick down before they had to start. I made my way to his dressing room and opened the door.

“Hey,” he said, casually. He was in just jeans, freshly out of the shower and it was a struggle to not drool.

“Have a sec?”

“Sure.”

I shut the door behind me and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

He cocked his head to the side and took a swig from a bottle of beer. “For what?”

“Being a selfish bitch.”

“Can you narrow that down for me?”

“The last time I talked to you, I was terrible. And I apologize.”

“Really? This isn’t a trick?”

“No. You were right. I was only thinking about myself. This tour is a huge deal for everyone, and we’re all stressed. There’s no point playing the ‘who needs this more’ game.”

“True.” He walked over and stood close, looking down at me since I’d kicked my boots off after my set was over. “Your timing is fucking miserable, Julia.”

“What? Why?” Shit. Had I screwed up again?

“I gotta go get ready. We’re on soon.”

“I know, I won’t keep you.”

“You don’t get what I’m saying.”

“No, I don’t.” And it was starting to annoy me a little.

Rick smiled slyly. “We had a fight. Now we made up. But I don’t have time for the all-important make-up sex.”

“You…what?” I burst out laughing and smacked his arm. “Asshole. I thought you were actually still pissed at me.”

He wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck and rubbed gently. “I wasn’t really pissed at you before. Just…a little fucked in the head lately.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do, just let me know.”

“Mmm. I have a list of things you can do. But like I said, it’ll have to wait until after the show.”

I rolled my eyes and rose up on my toes to kiss him. “Go to work, sex maniac.”

He laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

The knot in my stomach began to loosen. Things weren’t perfect, but I felt like I was finally living like a regular person. Noticing and caring about more than just myself. And admitting when I was wrong.

The next morning I had to get up really early for the photo shoot. By early I mean actually in the morning. Well before noon. Horrible. I was sitting in the makeup chair, freezing to death because they chose a warehouse that I think was actually some kind of meat locker to shoot in.

A production assistant kept bringing me fresh cups of coffee I had to sip through a straw. Every time I took a sip it burned and annoyed me. So glamorous.

“Honey, you’ve got to stop snarling like that,” the makeup artist chided me.

“Sorry.”

“I’ll be done soon. Then you can get dressed and stop shivering.”

“That would be nice. They use this place a lot?”

He smiled. “Sure. I’ve done a couple shoots here this year.”

“With actual models? Don’t they die from the cold? At least I’ve got some padding to keep me warm.

He laughed loudly and almost dropped the brush he was holding. “Grumpy but funny. I like you.”

“Are we working or socializing back here?”

I turned and saw publicity hell-spawn, Christine, standing behind me with the photographer.

“Almost finished.”

Christine hustled over and stood next to me. “You look fantastic, Julia. So fresh and young.” She giggled and went back to talk to the photographer.

I looked at the makeup artist. “What the hell is she talking about? I’m twenty-one. What, do I usually look like an old crack whore?”

We shared another laugh as he finished up. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I looked pretty fucking hot. We hurried over to wardrobe and they wrestled me into a gorgeous dress. It was way too small, so the entire back was kept together with tape, clips and very careful shallow breathing on my part. I didn’t care. The damn thing was apparently worth ten thousand dollars. If I had to drape it over my arm I was wearing it.

At some point I was artfully draped over a graffiti-covered car hood in the middle of the set. A small army of people buzzed all around, fixing a stray hair and adjusting a strap. Blotting my lips and moving my left leg a quarter of an inch. I felt a little bit like a marionette. But a super sexy one.

Between each setup the photographer’s assistant would show me a few of the photos they’d taken. It was awesome. She asked what I thought, if I liked this series more than that one. If I wanted to try a certain outfit in an area. It was a real collaboration. My mother didn’t get to decide anything. The label wasn’t choosing my shoes.

Strangely, tossing my head and throwing smoldering looks at the camera over my shoulder was making me feel powerful. I felt like a star.

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