I've never been good at the whole stress management thing, and now more than ever I knew I needed a crutch to lean on, someone who was good at it. My major failing? I'm a rock star, and friends don't come easy when there's every chance that their every move will be publicized. So I had no crutch and wasn't likely to get one anytime soon. So, I sat in an off beat coffee shop, not too far from the recording studio, G-Major alone. I had run off after finally finishing my first album so I could celebrate the right way. Darius Mills ran G-Major and his idea of celebrating was a live performance, followed by a large party with all sorts of music execs, and then, of course, probably ending with a typical Jude Harrison screw up. Not this time.
My party this year was a two man show, just me and my regular extra-cream, no sugar coffee. Mounted on the wall across from my tiny two person table, was a flat screen t.v., standing out in stark contrast to the old, vintage look of the place, and giving off a blueish glow in the dimmed room. A tabloids channel was on and a blond woman was behind the desk. My head snapped up, as if my subconcious already knew what was coming, and my eyes fixed themselves to the glowing screen.
"Tonight on the DownBeat, we have startling news about up and coming Rock Star, Jude Harrison. These photos were taken just yesterday. They depict the seventeen year old in full make-out mode with a mystery man outside of the Inferno night club. What has our princess been up to?" She questioned. I stared at the photos on the screen. There was no way the girl with her back to the camera was me. Her hair was two shades lighter red than mine and she was about five inches taller, plus I could never get a guy like the one she was tonguing. He was tall, with broad soldiers, and dark brown, ruffled hair -most likely from the girl attached to him-, he was clearly of good build, and something about him struck me as familiar. Then the woman came back on. "We went undercover to find just who this man is, and the news is even more shocking. Jude Harrison's hunky date, is none other than the Producer and Boyz Attack, once lead singer, Tom Quincy, also known as Tommy Q and a notorious player. Is this how Jude plans to announce a relationship? The major shocker? Tom Quincy is twenty three years old, which makes what these two are very close to doing, illegal. Watch out Quincy or we'll be seeing you in court. We'll have more on this story as it develops, for now I'm Sandra Carst signing off, back to you Jim." I stared at the screen for a few more minutes. Knowing that despite my ploy to not do something that would get me in trouble, I was already in trouble, times ten.
I cringed as my phone went off in my pocket, slowly I picked it up and stared at the caller I.D. It said DARIOUS in big angry letters. I flipped it open and read the text message. "MY OFFICE NOW" was all it said. I groaned and set a tip on the table, slinking out of my seat and slinging my bag over my left shoulder. I grunted at the added weight of textbooks, my journal and school work. Stuff I really should be catching up on.
The shork walk to G-Major was crisp, as new falling snow littered the ground and a sharp wind blew through Toronto. Winter was in full swing and I shivered as I entered the G-Major office and let the warmth of the room envelop me. It was a big building, with vibrant colors, medals, achievements, and trophies adorning the walls, and a very serious atmospere. Usually I ruined that last bit.
I sneaked through the room, hoping to go unseen, and into Darius's office, peeking out the door as I closed to it make sure no one was looking. I didn't need others in the office questioning me just yet. That would have to wait till later.
"Harrison." Darius's rough voice commanded from behind. I slowly turned around and then froze.
He was there. Tommy Q was staring at me with his head tilted to the side, an amused smile on his full lips. His hair was just as messed up as in the pictures only now it was slightly wet from the snow and stuck to his forehead. I sucked in a startled gasp, my eyes wide. Deer in the headlights was an acutely accurate description.
"Jude," Darius continued, completely oblivios to my shock. "Why didn't you inform me of your romance with Tommy?" He asked politely, I could still detect the undercurrent in his voice though, that said you answer me or you don't have a career anymore. The only problem? Both Tommy and I were staring at him, shocked that he actually bellieved the press.
"I wouldn't date Punk Princess over there if you paid me!" Tommy spat, now focusing his muderous glare on me. "This is all your fault, ratings were down and you just needed a scandal didn't you?" He sneered.
A fire ignited in my chest and anger bubbled to the surface. "And I wouldn't date a has-been-still-a-wannabe, producer if my life depended on it. And for your information I wouldn't pass myself off as the cheap red head you couldn't keep your hands off of, because that would be lower than my standerds can go. Fortunately we can see that's not a problem for you." I shouted back, taking a step closer.
Darius appeared between us, holding out his hands as if to break up a fist fight. And by the way I was fuming that was sure to come next. "Alright. We have to fix this." He commanded. "It's obvious you two aren't connected in any way shape or form, it would take an idiot to think you were at this point." His eyes narrowed and he glared at each of us momentarily. "And I hope this isn't just some major acting scene and you aren't pulling my chain. Because if you were niether of you would have have a place in the Music Industry again. Am I clear?"
I jerked my head yes and Tommy muttered something that sounded agreeable but was undecernable other than that. "Good. Now, we have to deal with this tabloid issue. They're having a field day. I'd like to disscuss this in a civilized manor, but we can't do that if you two are acting like three years old clawing at each others throats." I now realized he was being patronizing, and chalked it up to one of the things on the very long list of things I didn't like about him. "Can you not fight for five minutes while we settle this?" He questioned. In response I plopped down on one of the cushioned chairs around his desk, and Tommy silently sat on a stool. Darius nodded.
"Okay, here's what we're going to do. Now, don't freak out, but I think we should try this whole dating thing." Before either of us could protest his hands were up in the air, eyes demanding silence. "And announce it to the news. About a week after, Jude will write a break up song and publicly announce that its's over. I don't want to hear any compliants, buts, ifs or ands." He finished, sitting down on the edge of his desk.
"I have a girlfriend already." Tommy growled angrily. Darius shrugged, I snorted.
"The tie-died red head?" I questioned with a smirk, he glared and then a snarky smile spread across his lips.
"No actually, her best friend." He replied sharply. I clenched my teeth. Jerk.
"Darius what makes you think I can dredge up enough feeling for that....thing," I said disdainfully, "to write a heartwrenching break up song."
Tommy replied. "Oh don't worry about it being heartwrenching, it's more likely to be gutwrenching like everything else you produce."
"We'll see about that." I replied, already running words through my head. Hmm, what rhymes with Dickheaded Jackass From F-ing hell? I slumped further into the chair and ignored the rest of the conversation, only pulling out important details. Announcement this Frday at my next concert. Fantastic. Until then we were to be seen together. Which Darius seemed to think meant we should...like....hangout or something. I shuddered at the thought. Sure Quincy was gorgeous, until he opened his mouth, and inserted his foot.
Finally we were let go and I went to leave, but as soon as we were out of Darius's line of sight Ouincy's hand circled around my wrist and he yanked my into a vacant studio. "What the hell?!" I snapped.
He expression was stony. "You and me, forget it. I don't want this shit. Darius can go fuck himself. I say we bounce. Go our seperate ways, you never have to see me, I never have to see you again. Let this whole fendy frenzy blow over. I get to go home to my women and you can go home to what ever highschool football jock you managed to dredge up."
I stared at him, trying to comprehend whether or not he was serious, his facial features didn't chance, so I took that as a yes. "Look, you might only know Darius as a big Corporate hauncho but he's my boss. I disobey, I get fired. No more Jude Harrison rock star for me! You get it, I don't give a fuck what you do, but I need this. So you've got me tagging along." I couldn't believe these were words coming out of my own mouth, but they were, and they were all true. Once I commited to comething, I never gave up. Hence my career in music.
"Well, I guess I should have expected this from a stuck up pop washout." He sneered, his tone condesending.
"And I should of expected the guy who walked out on his band to take the easiest way out of things." I retorted sharply.
He chuckled blackly. "Oh well, let me make this a whole lot harder on both of us, shall I? No more easy going Tommy." He took a few steps foreward and I braced myself for a slap, a punch, a push, a shove, something violent and forceful.
I didn't expected his arm to snare my waist and pull my body up against his, or his lips to simultaneously come crashing down on mine. I definitely did not expect to melt into his arms, or for my own arms to automatically weave themselves around his neck, my fingers tugging gently at his hair, or as a matter of fact, for the kiss to be so god damned good.
When his lips finally left mine, whether I had removed them or he had I wasn't quite sure, my breathing was hard and ragged, and I greedily sucked in oxygen. My brain finally caught up to my actions and began a steady stream of profanities. "Fuck." I muttered, pulling away.
Tommy laughed again, and his body being so close, I could feel the rumble of his chest. "Not just yet, dinner first." He winked and I took an entire step back, right out of his embrace, not without effort though. "Well Harrison, how was that for taking the easy road?" He commented leaning back against the studio's wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
I shook my head. "You jackass." I snapped, before storming out of the room and slamming the door shut behind me.
I marched through the building, ignoring the curious glances and outright stares my furious expression was getting, and into the first empty studio I could find. I whipped open the door to the recording area and slammed that too, before collapsing into the corner of the far back wall. The dark red room stared back at me questioningly, as if asking what I would do now, and for once I actually had an answer. With a fluid, practiced motion, my journal was out of my bag and in my lap, pen poised over a new page.
I scribbled away, adding things, than taking them out. Waiting for all the words to fit together perfectly. Finally it had come and I hummed a few notes, before I sang through the beginning. (A/N: This is the songs Bones by Little Big Town)
"What goes around comes around
Feel it breathin' down heavy on you
You made that bed you're layin' on
Deeds that you have done
Now you can't undo" Pictures flashed through my mind, headlines from tabloids, images of him and a new girlfriend every week. I channeled the urge to punch him into the chorus. I knew Little Tommy Q was just a giant wimp, and that fueled my rage as more words leaped from my flowing hands and then I was singing that too, soon the entire song flowed freely from my lips.
"You've got bones in your closet
You've got ghosts in your town
Ain't no doubt, dear,
They're gonna come out
They're waiting for the sun to go down
You can't hide from your demons
Feel them all lurking around
You're runnin' scared cause
You know they're out there
They're waiting for the sun to go down
It's a long and hard row to hoe
When seeds that you sow
Grow by the wicked moon
Be sure your sins will find you out
The past will hunt you down
And return to tell on you
You've got bones in your closet
You've got ghosts in your town
Ain't no doubt, dear,
They're gonna come out
They're waiting for the sun to go down
You can't hide from your demons
Feel them all lurking around
You're runnin' scared cause
You know they're out there
They're waiting for the sun to go down
Oh, it stands to reason
Every dog will have his day
Your day is leaving
Better hold on tight
Here comes the night
You've got bones in your closet
You've got ghosts in your town
Ain't no doubt, dear,
They're gonna come out
They're waiting for the sun to go down
(Waitin' for the sun to go down)
You can't hide from your demons
Feel them all lurking around
(They've got ya runnin')
You're runnin' scared cause
You know they're out there
They're waiting for the sun to go down
They're waiting for the sun to go down
Down
What goes around comes around
Feel it breathin' down heavy on you" With a sigh I let my energy out. The song was finished. My anger ebbed away and I felt relief wash over me. This always happened when I wrote songs, I needed them to keep me sane sometimes.
Suddenly clapping echoed through the room, a slow, critical, sarcastic clapping. I slowly raised my head and expected to see Quincy. Instead someone I had never met before stood there. She had long black hair, slanted eyes, olive toned skin, and a wicked grin on her face. "Oh wasn't that just fabulous." She cooed over-enthusiastically, her tone just as bitingly cynical as her smile. "Little ole' me getting to hear the Jude Harrison sing a brand new song, never before heard of in a private audience." Her smile turned practically evil. At least that's the way I saw it. "To bad it was horrible, lacked any content, she sings like a cat in a blender, and I'm tempted to spit on her Salvation Army clothing." She snapped. I SO did not need this right now. In an instant I was on my feet, my face inches from hers.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" I demanded, frustrated that all my anger was boiling back the surface. Can you believe Quincy kissed me!?
"I'm Evlyn, or a.k.a. your worst nightmare." She replied sharply. "Now get the hell out of my recording studio."
I raised my eyebrows challengingly, before whipping around, grabbing my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and turning back to her. "Gladly, there isn't enough room in here for the both of us and your ego anyway." Then I left G-Major entirely. I seriously needed more coffee.