My Night with a Rockstar

by Mankin, Michelle

  ROCK F*CK CLUB, Girls Ranking the Rock Stars, Book 1

  ROCK F*CK CLUB, Girls Ranking the Rock Stars, Book 2

  ROCK F*CK CLUB, Girls Ranking the Rock Stars, Book 3

  ROCK F*CK CLUB, Girls Ranking the Rock Stars, Book 4

  ROCK F*CK CLUB, Girls Ranking the Rock Stars, Book 5

  ROCK F*CK CLUB BOX SET, Books 1-5

  ROCK F*CK CLUB, Girls Ranking the Rock Stars, Book 6

  Once Upon A Rock Star:

  The Right Man

  The Right Wish

  The Right Wrong

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  (Burners #0.5)

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  Going to the upcoming music festival leaves me with mixed feelings. I love all the bands, but I loathe one of the singers. The one who ripped my heart out, tossed it to the floor, and ground it down to shreds with his heel as he walked away.

  But I’ve got a plan. A little tit for tat. Let’s see how much Lucian Cordero, lead singer of Burners, likes being on the receiving end of a “hit” and run.

  Revenge will be a dish best served burned.

  Aria

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Aria, it’s a fantastic idea,” my roommate and best friend Lana replies.

  I take a minute to close my eyes and gather myself as Lana makes me up with eyeshadow and liner. I haven’t seen Lucian Cordero in twelve years. We were once inseparable, in love, and best friends. Then he left me with a Dear Jane song. Granted, I knew he was leaving to go on tour, but to end things completely with a song? Fucking coward.

  I snort, and Lana mimics me. “Thinking about he-who-shall-not-be-named?”

  I huff, my nostrils flaring. If I could, I’d breathe fire every time I talk about him.

  I scoff. “A Dear Jane song. Who does that?”

  “He who shall not be named is who does that because he’s an asshole.”

  “Damn right, he’s an asshole.”

  “If he planned on walking out on you completely, you’d think that would’ve been something he mentioned before he spent three days in bed fucking you goodbye,” Lana seethes.

  “My point exactly.”

  “Open your eyes. Lashes time,” Lana instructs.

  “Ugh. I hate this part.”

  “I’m not putting mascara on. I’m using falsies.”

  That’s not much better. I don’t like people touching my eyes. It’s a thing. I get panicky and lash out—with words or a fist, it depends on who’s doing the touching. I manage to get through it without punching Lana.

  “I told you it wouldn’t be that bad.”

  I nod. “And so you did.”

  “And then going to the show won’t be that bad either,” she replies.

  “I’m not so sure about that,” I admit.

  “Why don’t you flip it around on him.”

  I give her a look. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he left you with a Dear Jane song after your weekend-long goodbye. Why don’t you use him for a night and leave him with a Dear John letter? Granted, you won’t be able to cut a record and have it become a number one hit, but it’ll hit the mark.”

  The suggestion hits me like a shot of adrenaline. My heart beats a mile a minute, my hands begin to sweat, but the panic doesn’t announce itself. Instead, a smile stretches my lips.

  Lana laughs. “Like that idea, do you?”

  “Oh, I love that idea. I’ll get one last fuck for closure, and this time I’ll be the one walking and leaving him behind.”

  “Will you be able to?”

  “What?” I ask.

  She gets serious. “Leave him behind. You’re still hung up on him—”

  I shake my head. “This will give me the closure I need. But can I write a Dear John letter slash song before we have to leave?”

  “I’ll help you. Then we’ll get dressed to kill and rock our asses off.”

  “I still can’t believe you won these tickets,” I tell her.

  “I called every fucking time they had the tickets up for grabs. Thank you, by the way, for upgrading us to first class. Coach would’ve done me in with all those wailing kids.”

  I choke out a laugh. “I thought you were going to go back there and stuff your sock in their mouths or something.”

  “I don’t do kids. No, thank you.” She visibly shudders, and I snicker.

  “They’re not so bad.”

  “You can have them. All of them.”

  “Why don’t we just focus on getting through this day and forget about kids.”

  “Good plan.”

  She goes to get some paper and a pen as I think back to that song.

  Air, I can finally breathe.

  I feel so empty when you’re not here with me.

  We walked the line, then we crossed it.

  Consequences be damned, we didn’t give a shit.

  Life is good, happiness with you.

  You stand by my side in everything I do

  But, baby, you’re standing still, and it’s time to go.

  I’ve gotta sing and put on a show.

  It’s time for me to say goodbye.

  It’s time for me to get high.

  It’s time for me to party all night.

  It’s time for me to stand in the spotlight.

  You see what’s real down to the heart of me.

  Sometimes what we want just can’t be.

  I’m being pulled away, I need to go.

  And, baby, I know you’ve got to stay.

  It’s time for me to say goodbye.

  It’s time for me to get high.

  It’s time for me to party all night.

  It’s time for me to stand in the spotlight.

  I’m going now, you’ll be on my mind.

  ‘Cause, Baby, you’re one of a kind.

  I gave you my heart, it’s forever yours.

  The hardest thing I’ve ever done was to walk out that door.

  It’s time for me to say goodbye.

  It’s time for me to get high.

  It’s time for me to party all night.

  It’s time for me to stand in the spotlight.

  And he recorded it. The Dear Jane song, though he titled it It’s Time. Now it’s my turn.

  I don the sexy outfit Lana insists I wear. As I zip up the second knee-high boot, then stand in front of the body-length mirror on the door, I grin. Lucian’s never met this side of me before; he left before this side emerged. His loss. But tonight, he’s only going to get a taste, and I’m going to walk away, leaving him thirsty.

  Lucian

  “Big fucking crowd,” Justin mumbles as we watch Weathered, a new and upcoming band, blast out their latest hit.

  I nod. “They’re good.”

  “Not as good as we are,” I hear someone say behind me. I turn, and there stands Xander Mackenzie, the drummer for the bestselling band Falling Down.

  “What’s up, man?” I ask, doing the fist-bump thing.

  “Nothin’ much. Thought for sure you’d be the headliners,” Xan tells me.

  “Nah. Your latest is kicking our ass. We’re still working on some new stuff,” I reply.

  Jesse, Ben, Kennedy, and Ethan walk up, fist bump, and keep on walking.

  “Gotta go,” Xan tells me with a half hug and a thump on the back.

  “Damn,” Justin whines. “No hot chicks.”

  I chuckle. “They’re all paired up except Kennedy.”

  “Fuck that,” Justin tells me with a shudder.

  “You say that now, but one day there’s going t
o be a girl who you’re going to want to keep.”

  He shrugs. “Maybe, but until then, I’m gonna enjoy my share of the fair ladies who wish to share my bed.”

  I roll my eyes. A new chick every other night, sometimes every night. It’s gotten old. I’m a shitty match for anyone, especially the one I left behind. Every time I tried to contact her, she changed her number or moved. The last time she moved, she moved somewhere I can’t find her. She was from SoCal at one time, but if she’s still here, I don’t know where. It’s impossible.

  “We’re up next,” Kael tells me. He’s our rhythm guitarist. His twin brother Gage was our lead guitarist right up until a couple months ago when we had a freak bus accident that shattered his hand. Now we’ve got Meggie Melody, formerly of Blush. Our drummer chose the family life right after the crash, so we picked up Meggie’s other half, Trace Styx. We’ve been working well together, and we’re pretty psyched to get into the studio.

  I hop up and down, shaking out my hands and fingers, then lean my head to the left and right. I bend forward and reach for my toes, then stand up straight and twist side to side. It’s my pre-show ritual. I don’t know why I do it exactly or how I got started, but it both amps me up and focuses me.

  “It’s hot as fuck,” I tell Kael as he hands me a water bottle. I snag my wrist bands and tie my bandana over my head, securing it in the back. Tonight we’re gonna sweat our balls off, and the bandana will stop it from getting in my eyes.

  “Where’s Tabitha?” Justin asks. I just shrug. “What’s the point of having an assistant if they’re not going to actually assist? She should be fixing that shit for you, so you know it won’t come off.”

  “I’m a big boy. I don’t really need her to tie my do-rag.”

  Justin snorts, and I roll my eyes.

  “Who the hell came up with that name?” Trace asks as he steps behind me.

  “Who cares?” Meggie asks.

  I point at her. “Exactly. This is why you’re my favorite.”

  Trace side-eyes me, and Justin snorts. “We all know I’m your favorite.”

  Meggie snorts in reply.

  “The crew is kicking ass for this one. Setup hasn’t even taken the full thirty,” Kael informs me.

  “Good, good. We can go on a little early. Sing an extra song.”

  We put our hands together. “Let’s rock this joint!” We holler together and make our way to the stage.

  Aria

  Lana elbows me. “Here they come.”

  “I can see.” My stomach is up in my throat, and I’m sweating profusely—it’s not just from the heat. Nerves.

  “You okay?” she asks.

  I turn to face her, grabbing her arms. “What made me think this was a good idea? I’ve never been good at confrontation. What am I thinking of trying to pull this off? I mean, for real. I should just let it go. Forget about the past instead of focusing on revenge. Right? Right?!” I ask, giving her a shake—or is that just my hands shaking from nerves?

  She grabs my shoulders and gives me a jolt. “Snap out of it! You’ve got this!”

  I look up at her. Lana’s a tall five-eleven while I’m a mediocre five-three. “Yeah. Yeah. I can do this,” I reply, mustering up all the false bravado I can.

  “Well, there he is. Let’s see if he picks you out of a crowd from twenty rows back.”

  “Oh, god.” Please no. I want the element of surprise… but even if he spots me out here, I’ll still have that.

  “Just sing and dance. Sex it up,” Lana instructs, doing precisely that.

  When the music starts, I put earplugs in. I can’t listen to their music without hearing his voice, and hearing his voice sends me into one of two things: Either a rage or a full-on ugly cry. There is no in-between.

  I can still feel the beat, and I begin to sway to the music. I close my eyes and begin to dance. Lana grabs my hand, and my eyes open, looking at her. She’s all smiles, in complete bliss, and I smile back. To hell with it. I pull out the earplugs and join her in singing the lyrics.

  It’s when the song ends that Lucian commands my attention.

  “Hello, LA! How you all doing tonight?” Everyone screams—of course. Lana included. “How did you like Weatherly? They’re the burning up the charts!” More screams. Lucian takes a drink from his water bottle—at least I think it’s water in there. You never know.

  “Hey! Do you all know our newest band members?” Screams. “Let me introduce you properly! On lead guitar, we’ve got Meggie Melody!” Meggie raises her hand and bows a bit. “She’s a spitfire, and she can rip on that ax! Show ‘em a little something, Megs.”

  Meggie plays a fantastic solo, her fingers flying across the board.

  “She’s fucking amazing!” I yell.

  Lucian’s head whips around, and he scans the audience.

  “Oh shit. Did he hear you?” Lana asks as I duck in behind the dude in front of me.

  “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Don’t think,” she replies. “Let him see you.” She smirks.

  “Not just yet.”

  Meggie finishes up, and we all clap and cheer.

  “And how about our drummer, Trace Styx!” Cheers and screams. “He’s big, and he’s a wizard on the drum kit. Show ‘em what you got, Styx!” Lucian urges.

  Trace whales on the drums, showing off his natural skill. It’s mesmerizing watching his sticks fly around. When he’s done, he stands and spins his sticks around his fingers like they’re extensions.

  “Dope!” Lana shouts.

  I just let out a scream. There are no words to measure that level of talent—all of them. As Lucian introduces Kael, then Justin, the crowd goes even wilder. As I watch him, I realize he’s in his element. This is what he was born to do. What he was made for. I almost want to forgive him for the way he left since I understand the reason, the need, the thrill. But almost isn’t happening today.

  The move on to play another song, and we dance it out. Song after song after song. God, he sounds good. So sexy and tempting. Watching him move across the stage, engaging the fans, rolling his hips, stomping to the beat, even a little headbanging, it’s turning me on. I’m so excited and, I’ll admit, wet. He always could arouse me with just a look or a few words.

  The rasp in his voice, the tone. If I were to try to compare him to someone in the industry, I’d have to say his voice is on par with Adam Gontier previously from Three Days Grace and now leading Saint Asonia, maybe mixed with John Cooper, who’s the lead singer for Skillet. He’s definitely a combination.

  It’s only when he starts the next song that I look to the stage and see him staring right at me. The fucker. It’s the Dear Jane song.

  Lana and I stop dancing. I cross my arms over my chest and cock out a hip. Yeah, I’m pissed. I’m annoyed that he’d think that’s an appropriate song to play right now. Like, what the fuck?

  His brows bunch, and he frowns. I roll my eyes and scoff.

  “Did he really think you’d fall all over yourself when he plays the song he left behind along with you?” Lana seethes.

  “Apparently.”

  “He has no idea what works for the ladies.”

  I laugh. “Only in bed.” He definitely knows his way around a bed.

  I flip him off, with both hands, and Lana does the same.

  I mouth to him, “Fuck you and your fucking Dear Jane song!”

  He flinches back in surprise and stops singing. He motions for the band to stop.

  He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wrote this song before our very first tour. I wrote it for a special woman who’s actually in the audience today. No, no, I’m not going to point her out. But I just found out from her flipping me the bird she’s not a fan of this song. She thinks it’s a Dear Jane song when it’s anything but. It’s supposed to be a song to tell her there’s no forgetting her. She’s my air as the first word states.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Fuck you and your shitty song you wrote thirteen ye
ars ago!”

  People around us look at Lana, and I groan. She couldn’t just keep quiet. Nope, now we’ve got everyone looking our way. I tug on her sleeve. “Stop!”

  She glares at me. “No. He’s not going to romanticize this bullshit.” Then she yells again. “I’d believe she was your air if you’d tried reaching out to her once in the last thirteen years—oh, other than through your agent and PR!!”

  Her face is red. I give her my water. “Calm down. Dear God in Heaven, this is not how I imagined this going.”

  “I did contact her. Every letter was marked Return to Sender. She changed her number. Then she moved multiple times until I couldn’t find her anymore. I tried,” he tells the entire crowd.

  I rest my forehead on Lana’s arm. “Stop, please. Let’s just go.”

  “Oh, hell no. You’re going to do the fuck and chuck tonight. It’s going to kill him a little inside, and he’s going to go crazy when he’s unable to find where you live,” she laughs.

  “Let’s lose our VIP passes,” I mutter after the band starts another song. Every few seconds, he moves his attention to the fans—where it should be, and during one of those episodes, we give our VIP passes to the dudes behind us. It’s a bribe. They saw our names and were going to provide Lucian with all the information. Now, we don’t have to worry about that. They’re wearing the passes.

  “Oh shit,” Lana groans, then points to the side.

  Security is coming our way.

  “Oh, fuck me.”

  “Exactly,” Lana says with a wiggle of her brows.

  My smile slowly makes itself known. “For as embarrassing as that was, things appear to be working out in my favor.”

  “Indeed they do,” she agrees. “Now, let’s go get your rockstar-slash-bedmate for the night.”

  Lucian

  We walk off stage, and Justin’s all grins. “Dude, Aria’s here.”

  I nod. “I saw her. I also saw her flip me off.”