Disclaimer: Instant Star does not belong to me. Only this idea does.
Author's Note: Big thanks and alotta love go to my beta! I'd be nowhere without cha!
Moving OnIt was a week after my interview on Rock the Mic, when Georgia had set up an interview and photoshoot with Rolling Stone. This was one of my biggest career moves. The interview was "no hold back", which was an iffy move on my conscious. I didn't like having my personal life spread all over the media. I had enough problems with all the tabloids due to Eden. And, yes, I know that's fame for you, but it made me uncomfortable. Nevertheless, my hands were tied, like usual.
But luckily, I wasn't they only one being interviewed for this article. Ryland Michaels and I were sharing the interview and the cover for the October issue. Ryland Michaels was the name in rock music since his debut in 2002. He was the front man of the rock/metal band Shattered. I was a fan some of the time. So, when I entered the photographer's studio, my heart was pounding with apprehension and excitement.
"Jude!" A voice exclaimed to my right as I paused and looked at the shoot set-up.
I turned and saw Rich McBain, the photographer for the day, striding towards me with Ryland. I surveyed the rocker, feeling a bit nervous. He was absolutely gorgeous! The boy had a heart shaped face surrounded by straight, shoulder length brown hair streaked with thick chunks of red. His lips were full and kind of pouty; they were the kind that screamed "Kiss me!" And his eyes were wide and a nice shade of green. I tried to act normal when the pair reached me.
"Jude Harrison, Ryland Michaels, Ryland Michaels, Jude Harrison." Rich said by way of introduction.
Ryland's eyes were unreadable and had a smug look to them. They met mine and he smirked.
"Hey."
"Hey." I echoed, unable to form any other greeting. How lame am I?
Rich ushered us forward and led us to the dressing room area.
"So, for the shoot, we were thinking Cinderella-Gone-Goth for the cover." He gestured to the two clothes racks that were in-between to doors, "Jude, you're wearing the little blue number, Ry, the tux. You're rooms are labeled. I'll see you in make-up."
I went to my rack and pulled out a sky-blue dress. I eyed it warily. Rich wasn't kidding when he said "little number". I glanced at Ryland, who was eyeing his black tux with disgust. I flashed him a sympathetic smile and went into my dressing room.
The dress fit me like a glove, but I could actually breathe in it! Thank God for small favors. I found a full-length mirror in the corner of the room and checked out my reflection. The dress had think spaghetti straps that went around my neck like a halter. The top of the dress ended a few inches under my collarbone. Which was nice, to tell you the truth. But the hem of the dress hit the top of my thighs. Which was a little too short in my liking, but again, my hands were tied. Overall, not to sound conceited, with my hair color and blue eyes, I looked good.
If only Tommy could see me right now. I thought, then mentally kicked myself, feeling guilty. I told myself I was going to move on. Well, a girl could try.
I stepped out of the room and went into make-up, finding Ryland and Rich chatting. Ryland sat in a chair, while Rich stood, leaning against the wall. The photographer grinned from ear to ear when he saw me.
"You look great, Jude!" He said looking pleased with himself, "I'll go check the shoot. Have fun kids."
I took my seat as the man walked away. My eyes scanned the room and I noticed that Ryland was watching me, his eyes too intense for me. Instantly, my hackles rose. I know this sounds stereotypical, but I am a fiesty redhead. I met his gaze with my own.
"Gotta issue?" I demanded as my sometimes make-up artist, Amanda, stepped in between, and moved my chair toward the mirror, interrupting our stare.
"Just enjoying the view." He replied.
I didn't answer for two reasons. 1) Blood-red lipstick was being applied to my lips and, 2) I was surprised to hear that from him. I didn't except it from the stoic, sometimes bad-boy of rock, who loved his music more than life. They only other guy that had said stuff like that to me was Shay. And I had expected it from Shay when I met him, knowing he was a natural born player.
After ten minutes, make-up was finished being applied. I caught my reflection in the mirror and saw that I had dark charcoal gray eyeshadow on my eyelids and superheavy, thick black eyeliner. I smiled to myself. I could've put my own make-up on. But, hey, why stop Amanda from doing her job. My usual hairdresser, Holly, came in. She didn't do much. She left my hair down, but intertwined a black tiara in my hair that was made with spikes and blood-red roses.
"You look fantastic!" she gushed and moved so I could see the completed look.
I had to admit I did look awesome! I wish Tommy could really see me now. I thought automatically. Damn it! I cursed to myself. I really need to get him out of my head, and out from under my skin. But when Ryland's face appeared behind me in the mirror, all thoughts of Tommy left my head as our eyes locked. I smiled as I noticed he had a black crown on his head.
"C'mon Princess, we have a slipper to fit."
The slipper in question was a thigh-high stiletto-heeled boot that ended just an inch under my skirt. I was ordered to recline in an evil-looking throne and look smugly at the camera when the pictures started being taken. My "Prince" was on one knee in front of my seat, zipping up my boot to my knee. Talk about an awkward situation. With my skirt being short, I was almost positive that he was looking up my skirt. Not very Prince-like behavior.
When the shots were finished, Ryland didn't move immediately, I knew that my suspicions were right. So, I pushed him flat on his ass with a "soft" tap of my boot to his shoulder. He looked at me in surprise, then burst out laughing. He had a nice laugh.
"Sorry, Red." He amended.
I raised an eyebrow. " Did you just call me 'Red'?"
"Yeah." He laughed again, "Didn't know what else to call you."
"No... that's okay. I kinda like it."
He smiled, flashing two rows of perfect, white teeth. It was a carefree smile that looked positively happy. A rare thing to see from him; he frown in almost every picture I had seen him in. It made my heart jump in my chest. He just won me over with a smile. I am so cliché!
m/m/
Hours later, the interview was over and I was in Ryland's studio. We had talked candidly to each other when we took a break, after finding out we had a surprising amount in common. I felt like I had known him all my life. So, when he offered for me to hang out, I couldn't help but accept.
Inside the doppelganger of my studio at G Major, we jammed to "classic" rock music. He was doing the vocals to "Master of Puppets" by Metallica and attempting to sound like James Hetchfield. I was playing his guitar and having a blast. I was comfortable around him, which was nice for a change. I had always been apprehensive around Shay when we had dated and I nervous around Tommy every day because of my crush on him.
We took a break and sat down in chairs opposite each other. Ryland smiled at me, but it was bordering on creepy. He had something up his sleeve.
"What?" I asked, feeling self-conscious.
"Push play on that stereo behind you." He told me.
I did and was floored to hear my voice. It was my latest single, Skin.
"I heard that on that TV interview you did and it blew me away." He explained, "It oozes with betrayal and pain, with a dash of angst. What made you write it?"
I sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."
"C'mon, Red." He said gently, "I've had my share of heartbreak and other issues...you can trust me."
Trust is such a funny word. But maybe I could trust him.
"If I tell you this, you have to tell me something personal as well."
He looked oh-so solemn and placed his hand over his heart. "Deal."
So, I told him everything. About Shay, about Eden, about my dad, and about having to lie to my mom, then about my dad's departure. I left out the Tommy thing, it was my cross to bear in private. When I was finished, I cried. I felt like such a big wuss, but Ryland wiped away my tears with his thumb.
"Sorry." I mumbled.
"I know what that's like." He said slowly, "My Dad also, had an affair. But the heartless bastard decided to do it, while my mom...was...dying."
He paused and exhaled heavily before continuing.
"Then after she died, I got emancipated and a month later, my girlfriend of two years announced that she was leaving me for my producer..."
I was surprised when he bowed his head, his hair blocking my view of his face. I reached out and lifted his chin. He was actually crying. Ryland cleared his throat and I took back my hand. He wiped his face with his hands and cleared his throat again. Then, true to guy form, he looked at me and said:
"Don't tell anyone I did that."
I laughed humorlessly and moved into his lap and hugged him.
"You're such a guy." I told him.
"Thank you for noticing." He said.
And then, he kissed me. As the kiss lingered, I began to cry. Ryland didn't understand my tears, but comforted me without question. And that's when I knew and I felt it in my heart that it was time to leave thoughts of Tommy behind me: It was time to move on.