by Gabrielle G
“Dan, I’m ready if you are,” Larry, the sound engineer shouts my way.
I throw a thumbs-up and sit on the middle stool, my guitar on my lap.
“You know the drill?” the guy behind the lights says.
Do I know the drill? Twenty-five years of concerts and he asks if I know the drill? I raise an eyebrow to Lars sitting next to me, and we try not to laugh and be the amateurs this guy thinks we are. We start with “You’re Not Mine to Love,” our first hit song—the one we wish we could stop playing, but we know our fans are expecting to hear.
“Perfect,” the engineer interrupts us after the first chorus. “Next?”
We continue with “If Only I Knew,” but we play it country style instead of rock. This time I don’t touch my guitar—I let Art and Lars play—and I just sing, my hand tapping the beat.
“We need to change up the sound on that one.” Larry stops us quickly.
I turn to Lars then Art. “What do you propose?”
“Tell me something, Dan.” Larry says.
“Like a story?”
“Yeah. I need to check your voice without instruments to balance it with the guitars. How did you meet Lars and Art?”
I clear my voice. “Well, we were in music class, and the teacher asked who played an instrument. I raised my hand. These two assholes did as well. I said I was playing piano, guitar, and that I could sing. Art said he played guitar and bass, and Lars started this long list of instruments from ukulele to violin and never stopped bragging. The teacher had to shut him up. At lunch, we talked. I was new in the school, but they knew each other from elementary. After school that day, we went to Lars’s house and played together. Tada.”
“Shit, you speak fast!”
“I know. Do you have what you need?”
“Yes, perfect. Sing for me again now.”
We start the same song over, and we’re not half done when Larry stops us.
“We’re good. Now the piano and voice together please.”
I walk to the piano and get lost in the lyrics of “Once You Were Gone.” I’m thinking of Anna and how sad it is that this song is her favorite. I shouldn’t give it all right now, it’s only sound check, but I can’t stop. My fingers are flying on the keys, I feel every word deep in my core, and a tear falls from my eyes. I’m choking up, but it’s the last chorus, so I give it all my heart.
“Once you were gone, I lost my star,
Had to go on, couldn’t get far
You’ve broken my heart, you’ve shattered my soul
I had a hard time climbing up that hole.
Hold on by a thread, alone in the dark
I lost myself, I lost my spark.
I wanted to die, you left me to drown,
That’s what happened once you were gone,
Once you were gone.”
I stop and swallow the emotions. Breathing deeply to control my racing heart, I bring my shaking hands to my lap. The room is silent. All I can hear is the slight buzzing of the mics.
Lars gets up from his stool and slow claps. Art follows, then all the roadies and staff join in. It takes me a moment to come back to myself.
“I’m so glad I recorded that!” John, our manager, exclaims. “Please tell me I can upload the video to social media?”
“Fuck yeah,” Lars shouts.
I look at Lars, dumbfounded. “That good?”
Art nods. “That has to go on our album as a bonus soundtrack.” He taps my back.
I get up, still shocked by all the emotions swirling inside me, when I sense my phone vibrating in my pocket.
Anna Love: Julie, Naomi and I are coming tonight, but please no more kissing…
I smile at my phone. I didn’t plan to kiss her, but I couldn’t help myself. Her lips are the perfect shade of red, and I wanted them on me. It was a lousy first kiss, just a peck, but it was still our first kiss. I needed to be sure she would come tonight. I needed to be sure she wouldn’t say no, that she felt whatever the fuck is happening between us.
Me: You’re no fun, love!
How am I supposed to show her how much she wants me if there is no more kissing? I heard her moaning last night, but she doesn’t seem to want to jump on the Darling train. I don’t think she would be against a night of passion, but she isn’t one-night-stand material for me. She’s ambitious, beautiful, smart, and all I need.
Nevertheless, I still want to find out what she sounds like under me. Asshole for asshole, I decide to lay out what I want, hoping she won’t sell my text to the press or tell me to fuck off…
Me: What if I promise not to fuck you tonight, not to kiss you either but to make love to you next time I see you? To bring you where no other man has ever brought you and to make you come like you never have before. Would that be okay with you?
Anna Love: *blush emoji*
Me: See you tonight?
Anna Love: Of course.
“Let me guess, Anna?” Lars stands beside me, trying to peek at my phone. I angle it so he can’t see. “What’s going on, Dan?”
I beam. “I think I found her.”
“Her? As in…?”
“The one who’ll lock me down.”
“Hmmm.” Lars taps his index finger against his lips. “If you hadn’t said so about Blossom, this would be more convincing.”
“Come on, Blossom was over ten years ago, and she inspired one of our best songs.”
“And almost destroyed the band by sending our lead singer into a depressive episode for months. That fucking hole you were singing about? It was hell. You have no idea what Art and I went through trying to help you.”
“Fuck, Lars! So I can’t fall in love because you’re afraid of how I’ll end up once we’re done? What if it never ends? Don’t you want me to get married and live happily ever after?”
“You want to fuck her? Go ahead. But don’t tell me she’s it or whatever other shit when you don’t know the girl. I won’t let another woman destroy you.”
“Anna is different.”
He sneers. “How?”
“She’s not here for the fame.”
“Right, so she doesn’t care you’re Dan Darling?” he says in a sharp tone.
I run my hand through my hair. “Well, yes…”
“She was at the show yesterday, but she won’t be tonight?”
“Only because I insisted she comes tonight.”
“She’s not bringing friends who will enjoy the VIP passes you requested?”
“Come on, Lars, we’re leaving tomorrow, and I needed to see her. Would you have preferred that I cancel the show to spend the evening with her?”
His eyes widen. “Cancel the show? Next, you’re going to tell me you stalked her and found out where she worked so you could deliver the tickets yourself.”
“Well…”
“Jesus, Dan! I’m going to take a nap. I’ll meet you in a few hours for the band supper.” He walks away, mumbling to himself.
Art approaches me and slides his arm around my neck. “I’ll talk to him. He’s just worried because you’re an oversensitive, romantic rock star.”
“Thanks.”
“Now show me a picture of that pussy who already holds you by the balls.”
“Don’t call her pussy,” I growl.
“Did I say pussy? I meant lady. Tell me she’s bringing some friends so I can have some fun tonight? Do you want me to ask John to put them on the list for the after-party?”
“Yep. But Naomi is for Lars. From what I saw, she’s exactly like he likes them.”
“Fuck, I love you, Dan Darling!” He brings me in a hug. It’s his way to counter Lars assholeness.
“I love you too, Art Sweet.”
“And I love you assholes!” Lars shouts from somewhere offstage.
“We love you too, Trouble! Find me once you’ve had your nap and you’re less cranky so we can play some football,” I scream back.
“Soccer!” Art and Lars yell at the same time.
Art shov
es me. “Twenty-five years we’ve been telling you it’s called soccer here.”
“And the same amount of time I’ve told you that you’re both wrong,” I volley back.
I spend the rest of the day preparing for the concert, following my rituals. Work out, hot tea and lemon, football/soccer, high protein snack, meditation, massage. It’s time for me to have supper with my buddies, like we do before every show, but they’re both busy with their own ritual of having sex with whomever they found this afternoon. At least today they’re not in my suite. They are making progress.
The downtime gives me a chance to think about what Lars said. I understand his worries, but I also know she’s it. I can’t understand it—we haven’t had sex and I barely know her—but she’s the one. I’ve had thousands of girls since Blossom, but none of them have made me feel the way Anna does. This ache in my gut tells me she needs to be mine.
And that’s when inspiration strikes. I grab my pen and the little journal I always keep nearby and write down the words that come into my mind. They pour out like water from a tap.
Barely know you
But I fucking want you
Not only to spend the night
I can’t keep you out of my sight.
I hum, knowing I need to record the sound. I don’t want to lose the song I’m writing, the sound I’m envisioning. I record my hum on the app, sing the words into my phone. I wrote a fucking ballad.
Once I’m done, I text Lars. While I write the lyrics of our songs, he mainly composes the music. Sometimes Art does too, depending on the instrument.
Me: Got a song. Stop licking pussies and come to my room now!
Lars: Will be there in 5. What instrument?
Me: Whatever you want. It’s a ballad.
Lars: Violin?
Me: Don’t push it.
Lars arrives with his guitar. I let him look at the lyrics, listen to the humming and the singing. That’s how we work. He has to see if he connects with what I did. He rolls his eyes, but he picks up his guitar, presses record on his phone, and nods to me to start singing. And the magic happens. My best friend is a fucking genius. I wrote lyrics in less than an hour, and he creates the music in thirty minutes.
We listen to what we recorded, and we’re thrilled. It’s a hit for sure.
Lars beams. “Art can do some great shit on the bass. I’ll have it written by tomorrow, then we can record it once we’re in LA. I’ll see if Art’s done his dick workout so he can add to it.”
I nod.
He’s on the threshold of my room when he turns back to me. “I’m sorry for before. I’m just worried.”
“I know.”
“You’re sure you’re fine?”
“I am. I might buy a house here.”
Lars smiles. “Okay. How did you sleep last night?”
I know what he’s doing. He always asks the same things when he thinks I’m on a high. I feel fine. I feel awesome. His eyes fall on my bouncing knee. I force my hand on my thigh to calm myself down.
“I don’t sleep much anyway.”
He nods. “She must be pretty special for you to be able to write a song so fast.”
“In fact, bro, it’s your speech that inspired me.” I wink at my friend.
“Shit, I should get on your case more often then, because I’m pretty sure this is the hit of our next album!” He laughs.
“Let’s hope Art likes it. He’s not known to like ballads.”
“But he knows a great song when he hears it, and that’s an amazing song. Do you have a title?”
“‘Instalove,’” I say, imagining the green-eyed beauty I met at the bar yesterday.
Lars smiles back. “‘Instalove’ it is.”
7
Anna
Favorite Brother: What are you doing?
Anna: Getting ready to go to the Darling Devils sold-out show.
Favorite Brother: Wow, can I use your new boyfriend? Can he come sing at the bar?
Anna: Not there yet. He only delivered tickets at my office this morning.
Favorite Brother: Do you like him?
Anna: I don’t know him.
Favorite Brother: Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît pas…
That is so my brother, quoting a French philosopher from our days in the American high school in Paris. The heart has its reasons that reason knows not.
I dial him right away, getting close to the mirror to apply eyeliner. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that sometimes you don’t need to know someone to have a connection, to feel something, to fall in love. Your heart knows better than your brain. Follow it.”
“You told me the exact opposite last night!”
“No, I said not to uproot your life. Don’t rewrite your history with your ex because of the last four years. You were happy at one point. Remember that.”
I rummage through my cabinet to find my mascara. “I’m pretty sure you told me last night not to do anything for love. Reminding me not to live in fantasyland…”
“Well, I don’t remember.”
I laugh. “You’re a mess, Ol!” Blush and lipstick.
“I know.”
“We both are, you know. I went to therapy for years and I’m still a mess. When I saw Scumbag last night, I could have punched him. We have issues. It’s okay. It just makes us special.”
“If you say so…”
“I know so. I’m sorry, but I have to go get dressed, because I’m not going there in my panties.”
“Anna! You need to stop oversharing.”
I laugh.
“And please, think about the boozy weekend, okay?” he says.
“Promise. I’ll come to New York as soon as I can!”
“Love you, sis. Have fun tonight!”
“Love you too, Ol. Talk soon.”
Looking at my closet, I’m anxious. Finding the perfect outfit isn’t easy. I want to look cool but sexy. Digging deep into my clothes, I find a black pencil skirt and an old Rolling Stones T-shirt, my black leather jacket, and heeled ankle boots with open toes. Perfect.
Anna: Would that do it? *image attached*
Rock Star: Is that a Stones T-shirt? What the fuck? Don’t you own one of the Darling Devils?
Anna: Shit! I meant to text Jules. Sorry.
And no way I’m telling him why I’m not wearing my DD T-shirt.
Rock Star: Never be sorry for texting me, Anna Love. And yes, it’s perfect. *heart emoji*
Julie, Naomi, and I arrive at the Metropolis a little before the doors open.
“So he just showed up and gave you tickets?” Julie asks.
“Yes! He even had her favorite pastries delivered beforehand. It was swoonish!” Naomi answers for me, putting aside her dislike for Julie for a moment.
I grimace. “It was stalkerish!”
“No, you’re not saying Dan Darling is a stalker. I know you haven’t been romanticized in a long time and you prefer not to be involved, but what he did is not stalkerish. He liked you last night, found you, and made sure he could see you tonight. If you’re not doing something with him tonight, I will!” Julie pops her hand on her hip and glares at me.
“Don’t you dare,” I say between my teeth.
“Oh my, you’re territorial.” Naomi laughs.
“So do something about it. Personally, I want to fuck Art. He has the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen,” Julie announces.
“Perfect,” Naomi says, “because I call dibs on Lars! His face is a pussy magnet!”
“Oh my God, do you hear yourselves? You’re fucking groupies ready to jump the bones of a rock star!”
“We just know when to jump at an opportunity.” Julie laughs.
She’s still laughing, almost snorting, when a huge guy in black approaches us. He looks at his phone, then at me, and gives me something that might be his equivalent of a smile.
“Anna Spencer?” He points at me. “Please follow me with your guests.”
“Cool,” Julie mout
hs while we follow him inside then backstage.
The security guy stops in front of a door with Dan’s name on it. “Miss Spencer, Dan Darling would like to have a minute of your time.”
I wince in the girls' direction, but they both nod their encouragement for me to go in. “Will you be okay?”
Naomi grins at something over my shoulder. I turn and see that Lars and Art have arrived.
“Yes,” she says before making her way toward them.
“Have fun,” Julie shouts before running after Naomi.
I’m so glad they’re bonding over the events of my life.
The colossal guy jerks his head for me to follow him before he knocks on the door.
Dan is bare-chested in front of the mirror. He has the perfect muscular chest without being the Hulk. A compass decorates his right bicep. A beautiful six-pack shapes his abdomen. My eyes don’t have time to continue their exploration as he puts a T-shirt on quickly, too quickly for my liking, and turns toward me. His face lights up, his dark blue eyes shining with amusement, and his perfect teeth appear between his perfect lips, enhancing his perfect cheekbones, his perfect broken nose, and perfect hair. Perfect. I moan.
“Hey, Anna love. Glad you came.” He strolls toward me.
I stand shyly, not sure what to do. Dan takes my hands, kisses my cheek, and raises his perfect eyebrow. Shit.
“You seem nervous.” He squeezes my hand.
“Just not sure what I’m doing here.” I bite my lip.
“Well, I needed to give you something.” Dan grabs me by the waist and brings me to the sofa, where he sits me down next to him. “How was your day? Did you work on the plan for my house? You have all the budget you want, you know. Well, after I talk to Lars.”