The Rock Star Next Door, A Modern Fairytale

by Lily Silver

  “And not showing up for contracted work is your idea of being spontaneous? Try doing it at Burger King, you’ll be fired, bam.” Jessie slapped the counter to emphasize her point. “I keep defending you to the others but you’re pushing yourself out of this band. You’re lucky you haven’t been axed already. Charlie was ready to hire a model to play your part in this--” She gestured to their gypsy costumes.

  “Well, there you go.” Kyra made a low bow, sweeping her hand out expansively, “See, it doesn’t matter after all if I’m here or not--as long as they have you!”

  “Two minutes, ladies.” The stagehand poked his head inside. Jessie watched as Kyra stalked out without another word to her. She was grateful she didn’t have the opportunity to speak her mind to that selfish bitch.

  Jessie spun about, placing her back to the door. She couldn’t fall apart--not now. She had to go out on the set and perform. She couldn’t cry. It would ruin her makeup. She couldn’t scream as she wanted to. She couldn’t go out there and slap Kyra silly.

  “Ms. Kelly.” The attendant intoned from the doorway.

  “I need a few minutes.” She managed in a gravelly voice. “Please, just five more minutes.” She spoke to the image behind her in the mirror. The woman nodded.

  Focus. Jessie commanded herself. The Sorcerer, tall, sexy, sensual, blue eyes hypnotic . . . She imagined Lex, instead of the male model that had been used in the video, a mere shadow compared to the true wizard of her soul. She imagined the true sorcerer who wooed her into his lair, her Lex dressed in the black flowing robes, his eyes ablaze with passion, beckoning her to come to him. It was a delicious fantasy. She reveled in the guided image, attempting to lose herself in it so she could go out on stage and perform the song with that imagery firmly in her mind.

  “Jess.” Jack stood in the doorway. “Are you okay?” His green eyes, so like her own, probed into her soul.

  Jessie entered his open arms. She was comforted by the sixth sense they shared as twins, the uncanny ability they had of discerning pain in the other.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Kyra and I just had an argument.”

  “What did she say?” Jack insisted. “Spill it.”

  “She said I lost Lex because I’m a coward. Because I don’t live in the moment, like she does. And that I’m a control freak, I drive all of you too hard.”

  “That bitch. Screw her. Hell, somebody’s gotta steer this plane or we’ll all crash and burn.”

  “She’s right.” Jessie admitted. “I am a coward.”

  It made sense now. She was punishing Lex for something he did centuries ago, in a past life. For something he didn’t even remember. She didn’t know how it all turned out back then. Lex said he lost her; she died. That’s all he remembered of their past love. Maybe she died before he had a chance to make everything right in that life, and that was the reason he was trying so hard to reclaim her in this life.

  She was a coward. Jessie wanted to be with Lex, but maybe, just maybe, she was expecting him to be too perfect in this life; to promise her a happily ever after in a time and place where that kind of relationship didn’t exist any longer.

  “Look, we have to go onstage. I’ll deal with it later, okay?” Jessie told her brother.

  The look in his eyes told her he knew better, she was hurting, and he wanted to help her fix it. “They’ll wait. We’re the stars, remember.”

  “She’s leaving the band, Jack. She’s leaving us.”

  “Big surprise.” He scoffed. “Nice of her to tell you just before stage time.”

  “She didn’t mean to, I forced her. I was trying to get her to realize the responsibilities we all have to StarSign, MTV and the upcoming winter tour.”

  “Don’t waste your breath. It’s a relief, trust me. For all of us.”

  “She’s pregnant. She’s going off to Las Vegas Friday to get married, whether the shoot is finished here or not. She’s leaving us, for real, just like that.”

  “I’m sorry, Jess. I’m sorry you’re hurt over this.” Jack brushed her arm in a soothing gesture. “But it’s not a surprise to rest of us. We’ve been expecting this for a long time.”

  Jessie studied her brother’s eyes, realizing he was sober at the moment, a rarity. “Jack . . . ? Have you guys been conspiring . . .?” She couldn’t say it. It was too nasty.

  “I wouldn’t call it that. We’ve just prepared ourselves for the inevitable. Max and Charlie saw this coming. They hired a model. If Kyra doesn’t finish her contract with MTV, we’ll just reshoot the scenes with the model in her place. Don’t try to tape us all back together again. Let go, let her go. It’s time, Jess.”

  The director appeared at the doorway to give them an impatient look.

  “Okay, we’re ready.” Jessie assured him and took her brother’s arm.

  As they made it through the studio to the set, Jessie passed the amplifiers behind Kyra, and Jack grabbed her elbow, stopping her. Silently, he pointed to the cords behind Kyra, the one leading from her instrument to the speakers.

  Her instrument was not plugged in. She would appear to be playing but no sound would come from her speaker. The studio, and no doubt the guys, planned it that way. Kyra didn’t know the new music, having missed so many rehearsals and recording sessions, so another guitarist had been hired to fill in her tracks on the CD. Kyra didn’t realize that she was being given the opportunity to appear on the special with the rest of the band, a last act of goodwill on their part.

  Jessie felt a surge of anger. They were all trying to include her, but Kyra didn’t even want to be here. So be it. Jessie took her place at the head of the band, slipped the guitar strap over her shoulder and stepped up to the microphone.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Burning, searing pain. Robbing her of her breath, of her life.

  Jessie sat up in her bed, gasping desperately for that sweet, life giving air that had been denied her lungs for too long. Duncan, her Scottie, nuzzled her with his wet nose.

  Panting, fighting that sick, numb feeling in her limbs, Jessie flung the covers aside and snapped on the light next to her bed.

  It felt as if she’d just been snatched from death. She was suffocating in her sleep. This was the second time in the past week she’d awakened like this, her lungs starved for air, and her heart racing as she tried to push back the fear.

  Jessie swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat forward with her head cradled in her hands. It was unbelievable. She kept dreaming about dying. She was dying in that revolting dream. Painfully so. And yet, she couldn’t really tell what was happening to her in the dream. There was the agonizing pain and yet she couldn’t breathe. It was like she was suffocating, drowning or having the life crushed from her.

  She gasped aloud and pushed her bangs off her forehead as she tried to remember more. Lex had been bending over her in the dream. Only he wasn’t Lex, he was Gaston, the troubadour. He was stone faced. His eyes were liquid. He was holding her across his lap and pleading with her not to leave him. Jessie sat up straight and grabbed her cell phone. She pushed the button and was about to press speed dial when Jack came rushing into her room.

  “What’s the deal?” His face was like chalk. He looked as if he’d just witnessed her death. “Jess, are you okay?” His voice trembled.

  “I just had a bad dream.” She informed him, grateful for his intuition.

  The house phone rang. They stared at one another, each panicked as their minds moved down the same dark path. No one called their beach house at 2 a.m.--no one except their crazy mother. Marcie Kelly hadn’t called for over a month, not since they changed the number, locking out the dragon once again. Jessie didn’t want to talk to her parents about her break up with Lex. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. And she didn’t intend to tell them she was back with Lex again. If she did finally agree to marry him, they’d read about it in the gossip rags, because she wasn’t going down that road a second time.

  The phone kept ringing
. And ringing. Finally, the answering machine kicked in. Even with the number change and the impossibility of it being Marcie with another suicide threat, Jack and Jessie remained perfectly still, baby rabbits hiding from the wolf.

  Steve poked his head in the door. “Hey, I think you guys should hear this message.”

  “If it’s Marcie--“ Jack began, his face turning red with fury.

  “No, it was your Aunt Rachel. She called Max and he gave her our house number since it was an emergency. Your dad’s in the hospital.”

  Dad? Jessie’s heart rose to a new level of panic. Dad had cancer, leukemia. They said it was in remission, but that was before their mother went on her latest broom ride over the wedding. Stress wasn’t good for cancer patients. It was deadly. The stress of living with Marcie when she was flying high on one of her schizophrenic episodes had to be hell on him. She looked to Jack, uncertain if she could face the horrible news that their dad, the one person in their family aside from Aunt Rachel who had been a source of calm--of sanity--might be dying.

  Jack was staring out the window, lost in his own thoughts as he contemplated the same frightening scenario--of actually losing the sane parent--the one who did care about them when they were growing up.

  Seeing Jack was paralyzed with inaction and liable to go snort a line in the next moments, Jessie followed Steve out of her room. She was determined to deal with the crisis for both of them. She would call Aunt Rachel back. Aunt Rachel wouldn’t call them like this if it weren’t an emergency.

  As she stepped into the hall, Steve leaned close. He took her hand, clutching it hard, and then he pulled her close. “They think he’s dying, Jess.” He whispered so Jack wouldn’t hear. “And it ain’t from the cancer, either.”

  “What? What happened?”

  “Your mom . . . um . . . she tried to shoot herself with his gun, and . . . he tried to stop her . . . the gun went off . . .”

  Jessie screamed, and nearly sank to the floor. “No--no--“

  Steve caught Jessie and held her, preventing her from sinking to her knees in near hysteria.

  Not like this. Not her father--killed by her crazy ass mother. No, it would not do. This had gone on long enough. That woman was clearly dangerous, to herself and to everyone around her. This had to end.

  She went downstairs with Steve’s help as he kept his arm about her waist. She didn’t want to talk to her aunt with Jack nearby. She wanted to hear the voicemail message, so she let Steve help her down the winding wrought iron staircase.

  The machine on the kitchen countertop was flashing, signifying a new message. Jessie stood before it and leaned forward with both arms extended over the cool granite stones. She was barefoot, dressed only in her blue silk camisole and matching pajama pants. The stone tiles were cool against her feet, helping to ground her in the sobering reality of this waking nightmare. She sighed, braced herself, and then pressed the button to play the message.

  Aunt Rachel’s voice filled the dimly lit kitchen as the night light was the only illumination in the room. It was just as her friend reported. Their father was in the hospital. He’d been shot accidently by his own pistol when trying to wrestle it from their mother’s hands. He’d been shot in the chest. They were doing surgery on him right now at Luther Hospital, but Aunt Rachel thought they should prepare themselves for the worst Nothing was said about their mother, whether she’d been taken into custody or not. Steve opened the fridge and pulled out two cans of coke. He slid one across the counter to where she stood.

  “I’ll book us a flight.” He said, snapping the top open on his can. “You might ask Lex to watch the dogs for us till we get back.”

  Tears were running down her face. Steve was still here. He was still one of her people. The only one left among the band, aside from Jack. Steve didn’t even ask if she wanted him to go with them. He just knew the answer, like any true friend would.

  “Want me to call him for you?”

  Jessie nodded. She couldn’t speak, and yet, somehow she had to find the courage to tell her brother that their mother may have killed their father. She gasped and snuffled as a flood of tears overwhelmed her. Steve handed her a kitchen towel and pulled his cell phone out of his jean pocket. He pressed speed dial, and immediately the caller on the other end picked up.

  We have an understanding. Lex had said regarding Steve. So, Lex was on his speed dial. Even though she and Lex lived next door to each other, she realized Lex had a man on the inside here to keep an eye on her; Steve.

  As her friend explained the situation to her lover, in the most oblique terms possible, just that her dad was in emergency surgery, not the gory details of their family squabbles, Jessie worked on summoning the strength needed to call Aunt Rachel’s cell number.

  She brushed at her eyes with her palms and played the message again. This time, she took down the number on the pad beside the phone. Hopefully, Aunt Rachel would be able to answer. Jessie didn’t know if the hospital would allow the use of cell phones, as some didn’t. She dialed the number. After three rings, her aunt picked up.

  “Jack?” Aunt Rachel asked when she answered, obviously recognizing the number.

  “No, it’s me, Aunt Rachel. Is there any news on the surgery?”

  “Oh, honey, no. I’m sorry. He’s still in surgery. It doesn’t look good. Can you kids come home? I think you should be here, if nothing else, for Michelle’s sake. She’s pretty upset, as you can well imagine. You can stay at my house. With the boys out on their own we have plenty of room.”

  Dear, sweet Aunt Rachel. No judgment. No resentment. Jessie hadn’t spoken to her aunt for at least eight years, not since they ran away from home. And still, the love, the acceptance in her voice was unshakable. It made Jessie start crying all over again.

  “Um . . . yeah, we’ll catch a flight out, but we’re bringing friends, so . . . we’ll just stay at a hotel.” She sniffled and sighed, trying to keep her tears in check as she ended the call.

  The dogs went ballistic at the sound of knocking on the basement door leading to the beach. Duncan and Ozzy went flying down the spiral stairs to the lower level, barking first with venom that was quickly replaced by unbridled joy. It was Lex. She could tell by Ozzy’s pathetic whining, a well known trait the little pug displayed whenever the little beastie was exploding with happiness over a returning friend. She heard Lex’s soothing voice as he talked to the dogs and then his steady footsteps on the metal stairs.

  Jessie swiped at her eyes quickly, before he could see her tears. She gulped at her coke, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  He came through the living room in search of her. Seeing her standing at the kitchen counter next to the black fridge, he hurried to her side and pulled her into his arms. He didn’t say anything. He just held her, really tight against him, somehow sensing that she needed his strength at the moment.

  Jack came came trudging down the metal steps. He was fully dressed, as if expecting they would have to make a mad dash for the LAX in the next few moments. He was dressed in Rock Star mode; torn jeans, black T-shirt, black boots, and a leather jacket. He even had his Ray-Bans in place. A duffel bag was slung over his shoulder as he swaggered into the kitchen. “Hey, Jess. Get dressed. I called the airport, flight leaves in an hour.”

  That was new; Jack taking charge. She pushed away from Lex’s embrace. “Okay. Jack are you clean? We’ll have to go through security. You can’t be high and you can’t be packing anything.”

  His gaze dropped, and she knew he wasn’t sober. So much for Jack leading the troops. He had the right idea, just didn’t think it all through very well. “Sorry. Forgot.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Steve and Lex said in unison.

  Jessie puffed out her cheeks and released a long, weary breath. She looked up at the ceiling, striving with all of her might not to let loose and let Jack have it. Now was not the time to blow up at him.

  Lex pulled out his cell and walked over to the sink, giving them his back as
he made a call. Jessie took that opportunity to go upstairs and change.

  It was 7 a.m. by the time they made it back to Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Lex arranged for a private plane for them, his private plane, so Jack wouldn’t have to go through LAX security. He also booked rooms for them at the hotel and insisted on accompanying them. Max came to the beach house to take charge of the dogs and assured Jack and Jessie the MTV producers would understand the delay, given the tragic circumstances.

  Jessie and Jack met Aunt Rachel in the surgical waiting room. A petite, slender blonde, she was still a very attractive woman, even well into her fifties. She was older than their mom by several years. Rachel was the beauty of the family. She inherited the refined features of their grandmother while their mother, unfortunately, inherited their grandfather’s coarse and rough facial features.

  Aunt Rachel hugged them both. The sweet reminder of her acceptance reached across the years to embrace them. Michelle was sleeping. She stirred as soon as she heard voices. Steve nodded to their sister, who recognized him as a longtime friend of her siblings. Steve sat down next to the TV and started channel surfing. Michelle caught sight of them and her eyes filled with tears. Seeing Michelle choked up made Jessie’s eyes prickle and sting in response. Michelle hugged her hard in an embrace that smacked of desperation, given their estrangement of the past several years. In truth, Jessie found her sister’s emotional embrace suffocating.

  “How is he?” Jack asked, his voice like gravel. He looked to Aunt Rachel for the answer as Michelle just burst into tears.