Rock Hard International Billionaire

by Paris Rose

  I was shaking as we made our way back to the living room, but I didn’t know why. I took the last sip of my whiskey, and it made me feel calm and peaceful. I felt myself melt into the sofa as Axel plugged in his amp and strapped his guitar on. My heart raced as he skillfully produced a hard and heavy riff with a hypnotic melody. I felt like the music was lulling me into a trance. There was nothing like having a private concert put on by one of the members of your favorite rock band in your own living room.

  “I liked the way you reacted to that one, but I’d like you to hear the other two as well.” Axel looked up at me as he finished playing.

  “What? What do you mean you liked my reaction? I didn’t even give you my feedback yet.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. I can tell what you’re thinking and how you feel by reading your body…and your eyes. Your eyes say a lot. They are usually hazel, but now they are bright green.”

  “That’s not the music, it’s the Macallan, Mr. Presumptuous Rock Star.” I smirked.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well let me play another piece for you. I am confident that it will have your eyes changing a different shade of green… envy green. After this one, if you don’t wish you were me or don’t wish you could be with me, I have not done my job.”

  Axel started to strum the guitar strings slowly and delicately. The music began to build gradually, then all of a sudden, he stopped, raised his head, and looked directly into my eyes before unleashing a loud, hard, and intense crescendo of music. I got chills and my hair stood on end. His gaze penetrated mine as he continued to play with an intensity that I was surprised he was able to sustain. He then brought the tempo and the volume down, and I released a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. I was mesmerized.

  “That’s the one. I’m not even going to play the other one for you. This is the one I’m going to use on the album. Your reaction was priceless. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl’s eyes get so wide without me even touching her.” Axel laughed arrogantly.

  “I’d like to knock you off your pedestal right now, but that was a damn good riff. I can’t take anything away from you despite your cockiness.”

  “Well, thank you for providing your honest feedback.”

  “Thank you for sharing your music with me. As much as I hate to admit it, tonight is a special treat for me. I guess I have been kind of lonely lately.”

  Axel took off his guitar and stretched out his arm so that it was resting on the couch behind me. “I’m actually sorry to hear that. Do you need to talk?”

  “No, you wouldn’t get it. You’re an artist just like Christoff is, so I know you’d probably relate more to his perspective. I feel so selfish even secretly wishing that he would put me before his work more often. As a career woman myself, I realize that Christoff would not be where he is today if he did not put his work as a priority. But I do miss him, and, when he gets distant like this, it makes me feel like there is something wrong with me. We’re actually on a break now, and I feel like it’s my fault, like I drove him away or something.”

  “Oh no, Gia, I’m sure that whatever happened wasn’t your fault. Christoff can be difficult to deal with at times, trust me on that one. I’ve known the man for over ten years. Music is important. It is my greatest love, and I think that everyone in the band would say the same thing. But you deserve love, too, Gia, and you should never feel like you don’t deserve to be number one.” Axel placed his hand on my thigh. His touch was strangely comforting.

  “Thanks, Axel. I’m sorry for dumping my problems on you. I’ll be okay. How are you doing? I heard from the guys that you just went through a pretty bad breakup.”

  “Yeah, I’m still trying to shake that one off.” Axel shuddered. “Actually, I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “I understand.” There was a moment of silence between us. I felt really connected to him, and I was really grateful that we could be there for each other when we both needed it most.

  All at once I felt Axel’s hand on the back of my neck. I let him guide my mouth to his. I was shaking when our lips met. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in to him. I melted into his embrace with little resistance. He kissed me more aggressively as he leaned in to me, forcing me to lie back onto the arm of the sofa. Everything happened so fast. I let out a ragged breath as he lowered himself on top of me. I became so excited that I started to perspire. He ran his fingers through my hair and kissed me on the neck as he rubbed his hardness onto me. I could feel him throbbing through his jeans. I squeezed his rock-hard body as he drove his tongue into my mouth. I was so tightly wound with frustration that I became completely undone as Axel’s hands started to explore my body. Ah, this is what it feels like to be wanted.

  He skillfully unhooked my bra and massaged my breasts slowly and sensually as he thrust himself against me. I opened my legs and pushed against him in return. I moaned as he circled one of my nipples with his tongue, and his hands traveled to my ass. The rush of sensations was overwhelming. All of a sudden, I felt like I just fell off the edge of a cliff with no parachute. My heart sank in my chest. I was physically aroused beyond belief, but mentally I came to my senses. I was fooling around with the love of my life’s bandmate. The realization made me feel sick. I went numb as his mouth continued to explore my body.

  “Axel, we can’t do this.” I whispered. For some reason, I couldn’t find my voice. I wriggled beneath him. I took a deep breath. “Axel, stop.” I spoke loudly and firmly this time.

  He was in such a fit of passion, he must not have heard me. He started to pull down my pants. I tried to sit up, but he pushed me back down and pinned me to the couch with his weight. I struggled to keep my pants over my hips, but he just knocked my hand away and ripped them down further. He shifted his weight as he undid his own belt.

  “No—get off of me!” I screamed and pushed him with all of my strength. He lost his balance and fell off the couch.

  He glared up at me as he sat on the floor panting. I put my bra back on and adjusted my clothing as I tried to catch my breath.

  “What’s up? Why’d you stop?” Axel’s tone was tense.

  “That can’t be a real question.”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  “Axel, I’m in love with Christoff, and you’re his bandmate and one of his best friends. We can’t—”

  “We can’t what, Gia? We can’t give in to what I know we both want? Why not?”

  “Do you care about Christoff at all?”

  “Obviously you don’t, or else you wouldn’t have been all over me.”

  For a moment, I was speechless. When I found my words, my voice came out in a roar.

  “Get the fuck out of my house, you asshole!”

  Axel sat in silence for a few moments before rising to his feet and straightening his clothes. “It’s not even your house, Gia. Don’t be delusional. If it wasn’t for Christoff, you would not be living in a beachfront mansion in Malibu. Don’t forget that. You should consider yourself one lucky groupie.”

  “I’m not a groupie. I’m his girlfriend!”

  “Are you now? I thought you said you two were on a break. Which is it, Gia? Are you together or are you not?”

  “That’s none of your business, Axel. Just go!”

  “Fine, have it your way. Go ahead and sit here alone in the dark and pray Christoff takes you back. I wouldn’t tell him about this if I were you.”

  “You better not speak a word of this to anyone.”

  “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.” Axel dramatically held his index finger to his lips. “Shhh…” He reached forward and caressed my cheek. I instantly jerked back. “Bye, Gia. Don’t miss me too much.”

  I sat in silence as I watched Axel pack up his guitar, finish his whiskey, and walk toward the kitchen. I felt a lump grow in my throat and tears well in my eyes. I held my breath until I heard the kitchen door close. As soon as I knew Axel was out of earshot, I let out
a guttural scream and flung myself face down into the couch. I was so angry with myself. I was beyond upset, but I wouldn’t allow myself to cry, because I knew this was a mess of my own making. I struggled for air, and I started to feel dizzy and nauseous. All of a sudden, I started dry heaving. I stumbled over the amp as I bolted down the hall. The room started spinning, and I felt my face flush. I stumbled into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face before crumpling into a ball on the floor. I closed my eyes, hoping that the nightmare that I had created would somehow magically disappear if I lay there long enough.

  Chapter 7

  About a week and a half had passed since I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Although I felt like the most unworthy person on the planet, I had somehow been graced with the opportunity of a lifetime. I had been chosen to be an on-air correspondent for the live coverage of the annual Ultimate Rock Festival. I was so excited. It was a three-day event at Malibu Bluffs Park. I was glad to have my own trailer in the middle of all of the action. I couldn’t believe all of the cool interviews I was going to get to do. This was a dream come true. If I nailed this, there was a good chance someone important could see it and I would land more gigs or, perhaps, my own show.

  I didn’t feel like going over to the makeup trailer, so I reapplied my own lipstick and powdered my face. I walked over to the crew and asked them for an update of what was going on. They told me I would be live on air with Crank when they finished their set in about ten minutes. I was crawling out of my skin with excitement. I had knocked the ball out of the park in all of my earlier interviews, and I was feeling pretty confident about this one. Crank was a super talented progressive rock band. They were gradually changing the face of the music scene. I really respected them, but I didn’t follow their music that closely. My mind started to race. I couldn’t even remember the name of their most recent album. I wish I had listened to their set instead of primping in my trailer. I knew the lead singer, Daniel Meyers, was engaged to Vanessa Robertson, a talented songwriter from the east coast. If I wasn’t mistaken, their wedding was next month. I couldn’t remember anything about the other guys. For some reason, I was even drawing a blank on their names. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I knew everything about the music business, and I often annoyed people who weren’t in the industry with my endless trivia. Now, when it really counted, I was drawing a blank.

  I decided to run back to the trailer and Wikipedia Crank on my smart phone so I would at least have some idea of who I was talking to. I grabbed my phone out of my bag and saw there were two missed texts. I instinctively checked them. My stomach flipped when I saw they were from Axel. The first text said, “I’m sorry for some of the things I said last week. I was just frustrated because you got me all riled up and didn’t let me finish the deed. I really didn’t mean to offend you. I only wanted to help you feel better in Christoff’s absence. Will you forgive me?”

  All of my guilt and self-loathing came rushing back to me at the sight of Axel’s text. I clicked the other text; it was Christoff. My stomach was in knots. “I’m back in the US, visiting friends in New York. I’ll be back home in a few days. We need to talk. I have some things I want to say.”

  Ohmigawd! Does he know?! I was thrilled to hear from Christoff, but part of me was sick with grief. My mouth was dry, and my stomach felt queasy. Why did all of this have to happen now? I heard a violent rapping on the door of my trailer. I was so startled that I squealed out loud. I gingerly peeked out of the door.

  “You’re on!” It was one of the production assistants. He looked like he meant business.

  “Do I have time to grab a bottle of water?”

  “No, we’re live, and they are about to cut to you. The band is coming over now.”

  “Shit!”

  “Go… now!”

  “Okay, I’m moving.” I was so flustered, but I’ve always been a professional. Although I preferred studio recordings, live television gave me a rush that almost nothing else could compare to.

  Someone from makeup darted into my path as I walked toward the camera. She stopped me and made a veil over my eyes with her hand before assaulting me with half a can of hairspray and tossing my long sandy brown locks over my shoulders.

  “It isn’t perfect, but it will have to do,” she muttered under her breath.

  Great, I know nothing about the band and my hair is a mess. Perfect circumstances for my lucky break. I took a deep breath to try to center myself as I stopped on my mark in front of the camera guy. I made it there just in time. The band was coming up behind me. I turned to look over my shoulder and called out to them.

  “Crank! Crank! Giavanna Johnson reporting live from the Ultimate Rock Festival. How are you guys doing tonight?!”

  “Awesome!”

  “Killer!” The guys spoke over each other as they each high-fived me.

  “That was an awesome set you guys had there!” I gushed with showbiz enthusiasm.

  “No, it wasn’t. We had sound issues for the majority of the set, and we got heckled by our so-called fans,” the drummer quipped. He seemed pretty bitter about it.

  My heart skipped a beat as I tried to think of a way to redeem myself. “Well, I still thought it was good. Does that make me your favorite fan?” I smiled. The drummer just folded his arms and didn’t give me anything I could work with, but luckily the lead singer, Daniel, saved the day.

  “Don’t mind John. He always finds something to be pissed off about after every show.” Daniel cut John a snarky glare. John gave Daniel the middle finger, which I hoped production was able to blur out in time. “I’m glad you liked the show, Giavanna. What was your favorite song?”

  I took a deep breath as I tried to prevent my voice from shaking. “I can’t really choose just one. I actually like them all. What was your favorite song that you performed tonight? Which one gave you chills?”

  “I’d definitely say ‘Captivate.’ That song is always exciting to perform, but here in the outdoor arena, with the sun setting, and one of the biggest crowds ever, it was definitely a performance that I won’t forget.”

  “Awesome. You guys are such professionals, the way you pulled through even though there were tech issues, and you still stayed in the moment, enjoyed your craft, and moved the crowd. That’s stellar.”

  “Thank you.” Daniel beamed, and some of the other bandmates chimed in their gratitude for my kind words. John just grunted.

  “So, Daniel, you have a really big wedding coming up in a few weeks. Are you excited for the big day?”

  Daniel clinched his jaw and gritted his teeth, and John and some of the other bandmates started laughing.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Daniel seemed perturbed. I was certain that my confusion showed clearly on my face. “You call yourself a journalist, but somehow you didn’t hear about that no-good whore cheating on me with my so-called best friend and former bandmate from that shitty indie rock group Dial-up Modem? We called off the wedding three days ago!”

  I was so wrapped up in my guilt from fooling around with Christoff’s bandmate that I’d had no idea what was going on with anyone else in the world. I felt like an idiot for bringing the issue up, and I took Daniel’s wrath personally, since I had practically done the same thing as his ex-fiancée. I would have given anything to be anywhere else but on live TV with the angry victim of a very public infidelity. But I had to be a professional. No matter what, the show had to go on. I put my own emotions aside and tapped into my compassion for Daniel’s situation.

  “That must have been devastating. Has performing helped you cope with the situation?”

  “No, but drinking and fucking other girls has.”

  “Oh, so would you say your status as a rock star has allowed you to heal more quickly?”

  “What the fuck is this, the Dr. Phil show? I don’t want to talk about this shit. We have an afterparty to get to anyway. I’m out.” Daniel started to walk away, and the rest of the guys followed his lead. The guitarist grabbe
d my mic and quickly plugged their latest album.

  “Crank-Break Stuff, in stores now! Make sure you get a copy.” He held up the peace sign before catching up to his bandmates.

  “And this is Giavanna Johnson wrapping it up with Crank. I’m about to go see who the last show of the night is on Stage E. Whooo! Until then, have a goodnight!” I did the best I could to save my epic fail of an interview. I waited until I saw the “cut” signal before I passed off my microphone and stormed off to my trailer. Could this week get any worse?!

  I couldn’t wait to get back home. I really wanted to hide out from society. I needed to prepare for Christoff’s return. I hadn’t decided if I was going to tell him what happened with Axel. I knew I shouldn’t. No good could come of it, and we were on a break anyway. But I was sick with guilt. I wondered if revealing the secret would lighten the heavy load I was carrying. Even though I wasn’t Catholic, I had the overwhelming urge to go to Confession. But I didn’t want to hurt Christoff to selfishly relieve my own guilt. I decided not to respond to any of my text messages until I had a clear head. I knew the remainder of the festival coverage would be a challenge. The situation in my personal life was weighing on me so heavily that I couldn’t even enjoy one of the highlights of my career. I would give anything to undo that night with Axel and to repair what Christoff and I had. I felt like I was missing my other half. But I couldn’t focus on my home life. I’d been called upon to do a job this weekend, and I was determined to do it well. I was going to be the best Ultimate Rock Festival Correspondent if it was the last thing I did.

  I walked toward the mirror and looked at my reflection long and hard. It was the first time in a long time I was able to face myself without looking away. “Get your shit together, Giavanna. You’re better than this,” I whispered out loud.

  ***

  I somehow made it through the festival without any more snafus. I literally had to disassociate from the part of myself that was having personal issues in order to get through the weekend. I somehow accessed an invincible piece of myself that I sometimes forgot was there until I needed her. I powered through the event, and, according to my crew, I was funny, charismatic, and engaging on air. I was proud of myself for a job well done, but the high of broadcasting live quickly dissipated when I realized that Christoff would be home in less than twenty-four hours. I should have been excited, but a visceral piece of me was dreading his return. We hadn’t talked much at all during the three weeks that he was gone, and, when we did talk, it was always a very brief and mechanical conversation. I felt so detached from him. I was hungry for the connection that we once had, but after everything that had happened, I wasn’t sure if we could ever rekindle it. In fact, I wasn’t sure if I could even look him in the eye.