Bad Boy Rock Star

By: Candy J. Starr

When I got to the café, I sat in a corner booth with red vinyl seats. Planters of ferns hung from the ceiling and I wasn't sure if they were going for a retro '70s look or if they just hadn't redecorated since the '70s. The counter with its tempting display case of cakes ran along one side of the room, the booths along the side and tables at the front looked out onto the street. There were more tables outside but they were always full of people who might be hipsters or might be homeless. I couldn’t tell the difference.

I'd never even been to this part of town before I'd had to move here. I didn't realise it existed. But the rent was cheap and they hadn't asked any questions when I moved. They just took the money and gave me a key.

I opened the file and checked the papers. I'd gone through them before but hoped I'd find something, anything that meant I could make money. It seemed Megastar Management had once been a money-making concern but then Dad had turned his attention to other things and the business just floated along. The only acts still on the roster were Storm and some oldies that never played any more.

The only real asset of the company, if you could even call it an asset, was the Storm contract. It had to be worth something. I'd started on Plan A, now I just needed to work on Plan B, just in case.

As I sipped my coffee, I wondered if I could do this. I didn't know anything about managing a band. How much could they earn from playing a bar like they did last night? How many people were there? Who had even been organising this stuff for the past year?

"Hiya, what are you doing?"

Angie slid into the booth. She was all grins and wearing another Storm t-shirt, her hair in pigtail bunches all over her head, and bright blue lining her eyes.

She'd talked my ear off on the bus ride home, mostly fangirl gushing, then we'd got off at the same stop and realised we lived really close to each other. Still, when she'd said "see you around", I hadn't expected it to be quite so soon. She would be much better at managing the band than me and I wondered if she had any money.

"Okay, since you need some help, I've set up a web site." She pulled out her phone and showed me what she'd done. It looked fantastic. I grinned, then remembered.

"Didn't they have a website before?" God, who doesn't have a website in the 21st century? No wonder these guys made no money.

"Yeah, they had one but it was shit. It looked like it'd been made in Geocities and was never updated."

"You know we have no money to pay you."

"That's okay," she said. "I'm happy to do it. For love. Love of a groupie for her band is the purest love of all, right. You don't expect money or even for your love to be returned. All you want is for them to keep on doing what they do. Okay, and maybe one day notice you in the crowd and realise you are their one true love and live happily ever after…"

I laughed. "Do you think anyone is going to live happily ever after with Jack Colt?"

She waved to the waitress for a coffee and sighed.

"Word on the street is no. Word on the street is that he has a two week limit. That's the longest any woman has caught him for. But hey, maybe two weeks is better than nothing. It would be the best two weeks of my life."

The waitress sat down the coffee.

"You having another?" she asked me.

I looked at my empty cup. I wanted more coffee. I really needed more coffee. Screw it. Coffee is an investment, right. You can't work without coffee, so, if I deprived myself, I'd end up not making a profit. I understand business. You only get out if you put in.

"So," I asked her, "Have you ever dated him?"

She leaned on the table with a wistful look in her eyes. "Not yet, but you know what they say – it doesn't matter if there's a queue, so long as it's moving."

I laughed. She didn't mind laying it all out there. It was something I could never do. Even when people asked me about Tom, I never liked to talk about my private business.

She folded her hands and I noticed the chunky silver rings on her fingers. I looked at my hand with just the thin band that was my grandmother's left on it. It'd been her wedding ring.

"He thinks he's a badass. Is he really that amazing?"

"Hey, he kissed you too. Didn't you feel it? The thunder. The bolts of lightning. They are called Storm for a reason! That welling up like fireworks about to explode? The sounds of cannons firing… POW! If he can do that with just a kiss, imagine what his cock is like."

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