Curt sat perched on the edge of the bed, a cigarette dangling from
his full lips. He wore only a pair of soft, black pants, his long, light
brown hair tumbling down over his bare shoulders.
Stella stood in front of the mirror that was placed on top of the heavy oak dresser. This room was no different from any other in the hotel. Curt didn't ask for anything special. In Stella's opinion, this room was plenty special, just because Curt was in it.
The small radio on the dresser was tuned to a local pop station. They were playing a new song. She didn't know who it was, but it was rather catchy. She hummed along as the man sang "ten feet tall better walk it back down" and then switched the radio off.
She pulled a tank top trimmed with lace over her head, and tugged it into place, securing it over a lacy maroon bra. She ran a hand through her hair, which was cut to about her ears, and naturally black, though she had dyed a lock that fell over her eyes a vibrant green. She had already done her makeup, so slipping in her earrings, she felt ready. She turned to see Curt watching her, breathing out a little puff of smoke.
"Kinda liked what you had on under that top," he said softly, still looking at her as she stepped towards him.
"I know you do, but I can't very well go out like that," she responded, sitting on the bed next to him.
He cocked his head to the side and tapped some ashes from the tip of his cigarette onto the floor. He spoke, one eyebrow lifted a little, making a face Stella knew all too well.
"Where do we have to go?" Curt asked before leaning over and kissing her gently on the neck, just below her earlobe.
As if on cue, the phone on the nightstand rang. Curt straightened back up and flipped his hair back from his face. His eyes were not yet made up, and yet they were still shocking and electric when they swept up her body and over to the nightstand.
He stood and took a step towards the nightstand. He smashed his cigarette into the glass ash tray sitting on the stand with one hand, grabbing the phone just after its second ring with the other.
"Hello."
"Curt. What are you up to?"
Curt turned to Stella, mouthing the word "manager" to her before he spoke.
"What do you want?"
The other man responded, ignoring the gruffness in Curt's voice.
"There's someone I want you to meet."
"Who is it?"
"His name.is Brian Slade," he responded, saying the name slowly and with emphasis.
"Sounds special," was Curt's quick reply. Despite his sarcasm, he was intrigued. He didn't want to be bothered, but this guy knew better than to bother him for nothing.
"I'll have all the info sent to your room. Get ready. I won't be able to join you."
Before Curt responded, the line went dead. The bastard didn't know the word "goodbye" and never did. Common courtesy was not his forte.
Curt sighed and placed the phone back on the hook. He spun around to face Stella, his hair flying out as he did. She looked back at him, now curled up at the bottom of the bed.
"What'd he say?" she asked, not moving.
"Wants me to meet someone. I want you to come. It's some guy, Brian Slade."
She murmured the name he had just said softly to herself, stretching out on the bed.
"He's gonna send someone up to get us. I gotta change."
He went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of pants. Because of the angle he stood at, Stella couldn't see which they were. She knew pretty much his whole wardrobe.
Still facing away from her, Curt unbuttoned his pants and slid them down over his slim but sturdy hips. He let them slip to his ankles and then stepped out of them. He was now completely nude. Stella had never seen a pair of his underwear, and doubted he even owned any.
She rolled onto her stomach on the bed and propped her head up on her hands, gazing at the familiar body that she loved seeing so much. She looked at him, watching the muscles in his back ripple as he bent over to step into what she could now see was a pair of copper colored leather pants. Tight, of course.
He eased them up and buttoned them, and then looked over his shoulder and threw Stella a smile before opening a drawer and pulling out a black tee shirt.
He pulled the shirt on and swept his gaze over the top of the dresser. Seeing only Stella's open makeup case, he pointed at it and looked over his shoulder at her.
"Can I?"
She nodded a yes and continued watching what she felt was the most beautiful man in the world as he picked up her black eyeliner and brought it to his face.
He had stepped in front of the mirror, so she could now see his face reflected in it. Beautiful, she thought, just perfect.
A knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. She got up and went to the door, leaving Curt doing his eyes.
She opened the door a crack. A bellhop who looked about 16 smiled weakly and handed her a slip of paper folded in half. She thanked him and closed the door.
Standing behind the door, she unfolded the piece of paper and looked at it.
"Whats it say, baby?" Curt asked.
She turned and walked over stand next to him, reading out loud as she went."
"It says, time to go. The cab outside will bring you to the restaurant. Good luck."
Curt stood still for a moment and then grumbled, "cryptic bastard."
Stella turned to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She leaned her head up and kissed him gently on the lips. In her big boots, it was much easier for her to reach his face. Without them on, she had to be on her tippy toes to be able to kiss him when he was standing up.
He kissed her back, placing his hands on her hips. Stella reached up a hand and ran it through his soft hair. She kissed him again on the lips and then moved to kiss him on the cheek.
"Ready, honey?" she whispered in his ear, then placed a gentle kiss on his earlobe.
"Sure thing, babe," he said, taking her hand in one of his and starting towards the door. With her free hand, Stella grabbed her bag as they walked by where it sat on a plush chair pressed against the wall.
Sure enough, the cab was waiting right outside for them. Curt smoked a cigarette on the way to the restaurant, dangling his hand out the partially open window to get rid of the ashes forming on the end. Every now and then he'd pass the cigarette to Stella, who would take a quick drag and then pass it back to him. She wasn't a smoker herself, but she didn't object to it occasionally.
When they reached the restaurant and tried to pay the cabbie, he said that he had already been paid, and that they should go right inside, the host was expecting them.
They walked in and were ushered to a table in the corner where two men sat. One was older and wore a plain striped suit. Stella nearly gasped out loud when her eyes fell on the other man. It was the man she had seen watching her and Curt that night at the concert, she was sure of it.
The man in the suit asked them to take a seat. Curt pulled a chair out for Stella, and then sat down himself. Once everyone was seated, introductions began.
The man in the suit introduced himself as Jerry Devine, and asked that they call him Jerry. The other man, was Brian Slade himself.
"Pleased to meet you both," Stella said, and Curt nodded.
A waiter came over and poured red wine into four glasses that sat on the table. Curt wrinkled his nose a little, but didn't complain. He didn't usually drink wine, but alcohol was alcohol, right?
Jerry began to talk about "the business" and how hard finding gigs could be these days, and how difficult getting signed to a record label could be. It was a very eloquent one sided conversation, because no one else could get a word in if they wanted.
Curt was listening to Jerry, picking up his wine glass and taking a sip every now and then. Stella looked from Jerry to Curt, and then to Brian. To her surprise, he was sitting across the table, blatantly staring at Curt.
She watched him for a moment more, and saw that he had continued to just stare. She decided to take advantage of the situation and use this time to examine him, since he obviously wasn't seeing anyone but Curt.
He had strong cheekbones and a perfectly shaped mouth. He had a perfect nose and beautiful blue eyes. His longish hair was falling, soft and shiny, around his face. His face was girlish, but it was obvious that he wasn't a woman. He was just androgynous. He had a certain air around him, a cool confidence. Stella got the impression he didn't hear the word "no" often.
Jerry finally paused to inhale, and Brian cut in. Curt's glass had just been refilled for the third time.
"Curt, is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need help with?"
Curt thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know."
"We can work together maybe. We can work something out."
Curt looked at him questioningly, then responded.
"So you're saying.you could be my main man?"
Brian nodded, saying, "basically, yes."
"Well then, maybe we can work something out," Curt said, a smile slowly spreading over his face. He looked at his watch then said, "we'll be in touch. You obviously know where to find me."
The ride back to the hotel was silent, Stella sitting staring out the window, Curt smoking.
Back in the room, Stella dropped her bag on the floor and flopped onto the bed. Curt came over and tried to touch her shoulder, but she wiggled away.
"What's wrong, honey?" he asked gently. She shook her head in answer, not looking at him.
"What's wrong?" he repeated.
"I don't trust him," Stella whispered, her face now partially buried in the covers.
Curt sat down on the bed, a little clumsily due to all he had drank, then scooted up so that his face was level with hers. He touched her hair gently.
"Why not? He didn't seem bad."
"I didn't say bad. I didn't say anything. But I think quite a bit. I think he's a fake and a manipulator. I think that once you're in with him, you're trapped. Yes, he's intriguing, but I don't trust him," she whispered again, this time with her head turned so he could see her. She looked at him, then closed her eyes, still lying facing him.
Curt scooted forward and kissed her on the lips, then kissed each of her eyelids, still smoothing her hair with one hand.
"It's ok baby. We'll figure something out. Don't you worry. It's not like we're dealing with a black widow or anything. He's just another singer."
Stella muttered something, which sounded to Curt like "so it seems", but he couldn't be sure. Not wanting to upset her more, he didn't respond, but instead curled up next to her, wrapping his arms around her.
Stella stood in front of the mirror that was placed on top of the heavy oak dresser. This room was no different from any other in the hotel. Curt didn't ask for anything special. In Stella's opinion, this room was plenty special, just because Curt was in it.
The small radio on the dresser was tuned to a local pop station. They were playing a new song. She didn't know who it was, but it was rather catchy. She hummed along as the man sang "ten feet tall better walk it back down" and then switched the radio off.
She pulled a tank top trimmed with lace over her head, and tugged it into place, securing it over a lacy maroon bra. She ran a hand through her hair, which was cut to about her ears, and naturally black, though she had dyed a lock that fell over her eyes a vibrant green. She had already done her makeup, so slipping in her earrings, she felt ready. She turned to see Curt watching her, breathing out a little puff of smoke.
"Kinda liked what you had on under that top," he said softly, still looking at her as she stepped towards him.
"I know you do, but I can't very well go out like that," she responded, sitting on the bed next to him.
He cocked his head to the side and tapped some ashes from the tip of his cigarette onto the floor. He spoke, one eyebrow lifted a little, making a face Stella knew all too well.
"Where do we have to go?" Curt asked before leaning over and kissing her gently on the neck, just below her earlobe.
As if on cue, the phone on the nightstand rang. Curt straightened back up and flipped his hair back from his face. His eyes were not yet made up, and yet they were still shocking and electric when they swept up her body and over to the nightstand.
He stood and took a step towards the nightstand. He smashed his cigarette into the glass ash tray sitting on the stand with one hand, grabbing the phone just after its second ring with the other.
"Hello."
"Curt. What are you up to?"
Curt turned to Stella, mouthing the word "manager" to her before he spoke.
"What do you want?"
The other man responded, ignoring the gruffness in Curt's voice.
"There's someone I want you to meet."
"Who is it?"
"His name.is Brian Slade," he responded, saying the name slowly and with emphasis.
"Sounds special," was Curt's quick reply. Despite his sarcasm, he was intrigued. He didn't want to be bothered, but this guy knew better than to bother him for nothing.
"I'll have all the info sent to your room. Get ready. I won't be able to join you."
Before Curt responded, the line went dead. The bastard didn't know the word "goodbye" and never did. Common courtesy was not his forte.
Curt sighed and placed the phone back on the hook. He spun around to face Stella, his hair flying out as he did. She looked back at him, now curled up at the bottom of the bed.
"What'd he say?" she asked, not moving.
"Wants me to meet someone. I want you to come. It's some guy, Brian Slade."
She murmured the name he had just said softly to herself, stretching out on the bed.
"He's gonna send someone up to get us. I gotta change."
He went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of pants. Because of the angle he stood at, Stella couldn't see which they were. She knew pretty much his whole wardrobe.
Still facing away from her, Curt unbuttoned his pants and slid them down over his slim but sturdy hips. He let them slip to his ankles and then stepped out of them. He was now completely nude. Stella had never seen a pair of his underwear, and doubted he even owned any.
She rolled onto her stomach on the bed and propped her head up on her hands, gazing at the familiar body that she loved seeing so much. She looked at him, watching the muscles in his back ripple as he bent over to step into what she could now see was a pair of copper colored leather pants. Tight, of course.
He eased them up and buttoned them, and then looked over his shoulder and threw Stella a smile before opening a drawer and pulling out a black tee shirt.
He pulled the shirt on and swept his gaze over the top of the dresser. Seeing only Stella's open makeup case, he pointed at it and looked over his shoulder at her.
"Can I?"
She nodded a yes and continued watching what she felt was the most beautiful man in the world as he picked up her black eyeliner and brought it to his face.
He had stepped in front of the mirror, so she could now see his face reflected in it. Beautiful, she thought, just perfect.
A knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. She got up and went to the door, leaving Curt doing his eyes.
She opened the door a crack. A bellhop who looked about 16 smiled weakly and handed her a slip of paper folded in half. She thanked him and closed the door.
Standing behind the door, she unfolded the piece of paper and looked at it.
"Whats it say, baby?" Curt asked.
She turned and walked over stand next to him, reading out loud as she went."
"It says, time to go. The cab outside will bring you to the restaurant. Good luck."
Curt stood still for a moment and then grumbled, "cryptic bastard."
Stella turned to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She leaned her head up and kissed him gently on the lips. In her big boots, it was much easier for her to reach his face. Without them on, she had to be on her tippy toes to be able to kiss him when he was standing up.
He kissed her back, placing his hands on her hips. Stella reached up a hand and ran it through his soft hair. She kissed him again on the lips and then moved to kiss him on the cheek.
"Ready, honey?" she whispered in his ear, then placed a gentle kiss on his earlobe.
"Sure thing, babe," he said, taking her hand in one of his and starting towards the door. With her free hand, Stella grabbed her bag as they walked by where it sat on a plush chair pressed against the wall.
Sure enough, the cab was waiting right outside for them. Curt smoked a cigarette on the way to the restaurant, dangling his hand out the partially open window to get rid of the ashes forming on the end. Every now and then he'd pass the cigarette to Stella, who would take a quick drag and then pass it back to him. She wasn't a smoker herself, but she didn't object to it occasionally.
When they reached the restaurant and tried to pay the cabbie, he said that he had already been paid, and that they should go right inside, the host was expecting them.
They walked in and were ushered to a table in the corner where two men sat. One was older and wore a plain striped suit. Stella nearly gasped out loud when her eyes fell on the other man. It was the man she had seen watching her and Curt that night at the concert, she was sure of it.
The man in the suit asked them to take a seat. Curt pulled a chair out for Stella, and then sat down himself. Once everyone was seated, introductions began.
The man in the suit introduced himself as Jerry Devine, and asked that they call him Jerry. The other man, was Brian Slade himself.
"Pleased to meet you both," Stella said, and Curt nodded.
A waiter came over and poured red wine into four glasses that sat on the table. Curt wrinkled his nose a little, but didn't complain. He didn't usually drink wine, but alcohol was alcohol, right?
Jerry began to talk about "the business" and how hard finding gigs could be these days, and how difficult getting signed to a record label could be. It was a very eloquent one sided conversation, because no one else could get a word in if they wanted.
Curt was listening to Jerry, picking up his wine glass and taking a sip every now and then. Stella looked from Jerry to Curt, and then to Brian. To her surprise, he was sitting across the table, blatantly staring at Curt.
She watched him for a moment more, and saw that he had continued to just stare. She decided to take advantage of the situation and use this time to examine him, since he obviously wasn't seeing anyone but Curt.
He had strong cheekbones and a perfectly shaped mouth. He had a perfect nose and beautiful blue eyes. His longish hair was falling, soft and shiny, around his face. His face was girlish, but it was obvious that he wasn't a woman. He was just androgynous. He had a certain air around him, a cool confidence. Stella got the impression he didn't hear the word "no" often.
Jerry finally paused to inhale, and Brian cut in. Curt's glass had just been refilled for the third time.
"Curt, is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need help with?"
Curt thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know."
"We can work together maybe. We can work something out."
Curt looked at him questioningly, then responded.
"So you're saying.you could be my main man?"
Brian nodded, saying, "basically, yes."
"Well then, maybe we can work something out," Curt said, a smile slowly spreading over his face. He looked at his watch then said, "we'll be in touch. You obviously know where to find me."
The ride back to the hotel was silent, Stella sitting staring out the window, Curt smoking.
Back in the room, Stella dropped her bag on the floor and flopped onto the bed. Curt came over and tried to touch her shoulder, but she wiggled away.
"What's wrong, honey?" he asked gently. She shook her head in answer, not looking at him.
"What's wrong?" he repeated.
"I don't trust him," Stella whispered, her face now partially buried in the covers.
Curt sat down on the bed, a little clumsily due to all he had drank, then scooted up so that his face was level with hers. He touched her hair gently.
"Why not? He didn't seem bad."
"I didn't say bad. I didn't say anything. But I think quite a bit. I think he's a fake and a manipulator. I think that once you're in with him, you're trapped. Yes, he's intriguing, but I don't trust him," she whispered again, this time with her head turned so he could see her. She looked at him, then closed her eyes, still lying facing him.
Curt scooted forward and kissed her on the lips, then kissed each of her eyelids, still smoothing her hair with one hand.
"It's ok baby. We'll figure something out. Don't you worry. It's not like we're dealing with a black widow or anything. He's just another singer."
Stella muttered something, which sounded to Curt like "so it seems", but he couldn't be sure. Not wanting to upset her more, he didn't respond, but instead curled up next to her, wrapping his arms around her.