The Rock 'N' the Roll. 'N That

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The Rock 'N' the Roll. 'N That Page 24

by Steven J. Gill


  “We could leave,” he said indecisively. “Where were you thinking?”

  “I was hoping you could take me back to your vast hotel suite and seduce me. Leaving me with the knowledge that only an older, more experienced man can provide…”

  Catching his breath, Johnny grinned at her. “You make me smile. Not like other girls, are you?”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls you love and leave on the road. Girl in every town for Mr Rock ’n’ Roll Manager is it?”, purred Amanda.

  “At least two,” said Johnny, taking her hand as they left the aftershow party.

  “You do know I don’t usually do this sort of thing…” said Amanda as they slid into the back seat of a waiting cab.

  ***

  “Hi Suzzie. Yeah, I’m good thanks. It was a great night. Best gig I’ve been to in ages,” said Johnny, as he held the phone between his shoulder and ear whilst trying to simultaneously turn his laptop on. “I haven’t seen the papers today or been online. There’s not a problem is there?”

  “Just look at the Mirror today, the 3AM gossip page. Jamie has certainly got the band in the headlines…” said Suzzie, seemingly unperturbed by developments.

  “Err. I’ll have a look now. Nothing bad?” said Johnny, a nervous tone to his voice.

  “Not at all. Just surprised at the company he chose to keep. I didn’t have him down as the celebrity-couple type. Anyhow, I’ll speak soon. Oh, and you made quite an impression on my friend Amanda. I’ll be changing my opinion on Northerners at this rate. Bye.”

  Johnny winced slightly at the last comment. The night had not gone quite the way he had planned. He wasn’t sure if it was the combination of nerves, booze and bugle but he had been unable to perform when required. Once back in his hotel room the lovely Amanda had stripped down to some extremely sexy underwear, and then proceeded to undress him as they kissed on the bed.

  He’d initially thought that he had been slow in getting started but had become increasingly panicked as he failed to muster even the vaguest hint of an erection.

  A trip to the bathroom and a valiant attempt to cajole some semblance of life had left him sat staring at his dick which remained stoically inert – a small nub where an erect cock should have risen. Johnny had slunk back into the bedroom and had mumbled an apology to the delicious and expectant Amanda, who had been remarkably understanding towards his plight.

  Avoiding the well-worn cliché that it had never happened to him before, Johnny then embarked on a sleep-free night – a heady cocktail of cocaine, frustration and dented pride seeing to that.

  Clicking to the Mirror website, Johnny was met with an archetypal paparazzi picture of Jamie entering the back of a cab with Lara Bearheart.

  The piece – obviously a quiet day in the world of salacious gossip – was the lead article, under the headline of ‘Bear faced cheek’. The picture showed Jamie looking at the bottom half of Ms Bearheart’s very pert arse cheek as she stepped into the back of the cab. Going on to describe Jamie as ‘the drop-dead gorgeous lead singer of new indie sensations, Lonely Souls, was anything but lonely as he left the hottest gig in town to go back to socialite Lara’s hotel suite at the nearby trendy Sanderson Hotel…’

  Johnny knew little of Lara Bearheart, but a quick Google search revealed all he needed to know – ‘Lara Bearheart is the daughter of British model Stacey Temple and Native American billionaire businessman, Awan Bearheart. His family made their fortune developing casino resort complexes on old Native American land in Connecticut. Lara herself had been a model since the age of fourteen and had recently dabbled with acting and was in the throes of trying to launch a singing career. As her parents were separated, she spends time between Manhattan and London.’

  The accompanying images showed a strikingly beautiful woman who would turn the head of any man on the planet.

  It was clear that Ms Bearheart had benefitted from both her father’s heritage and her mother’s fine features – a perfectly heart shaped face was crowned with a jaw length bob of jet black hair. Eyes as dark as oil wells which had a certain lupine quality. A strong nose seemingly untouched by the surgeon’s scalpel and a figure – unusually curvy for a modern-day model – that seemed straight off the drawing board of Disney’s latest Princess.

  Scanning through the images, Johnny let out a soft chuckle to himself. “Well well, Jamie. For one who’s all about the music, you’ve certainly made a splash.”

  Closing his laptop, he picked up his mobile and contemplated his next conversation…

  Chapter 35

  “Hello. Can I help you?” said Cally as she peered round her half-open door at the stranger who was stood with his back to the door of her terraced house.

  He turned and flashed his best snakeoil salesman smile. “Harvey Brown. North West reporter for the Daily Mirror. Are you Caroline Thorne?” he asked, glancing down at a well-thumbed notebook.

  “I am. But what do you want?” she said, an edge of concern flooding her voice.

  “Just wanted to have a chat about Jamie. Quite the star, isn’t he? And people know his name after today’s news story. I just wanted to ask a few questions. Then people can get to know more about him. Some direct quotes from the mum always helps,” said Harvey, turning his charm tractor beam up to maximum.

  “I don’t know what you mean. And, err, I’ve nothing to say. Nothing to say at all. Goodbye.” Cally went to close the door, but Harvey, a veteran at these ‘doorstepping’ situations was too quick and had his tired looking loafer wedged in the door frame in a flash.

  “If you choose not to answer my questions… Well, you must know how it works, Ms Thorne? Anything could get printed,” said Harvey, the intended menace lacing his words just as he intended.

  “NO! I’ve no wish to talk to you ON MY DOORSTEP!” Giving the door a sharp shove, Cally slammed the door shut and leant against it as she struggled to compose herself.

  She heard the reporter’s voice through the door, persistent to the last. “Read today’s paper, Ms Thorne. Then you’ll see why you should speak to me. I’ll leave my card with you should you change your mind.”

  Taking a deep breath, she took the card that was protruding through her letterbox and picking up her mobile phone, went into the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

  “Hello Johnny? It’s Cally. Can you talk?”

  “Hey how are you,” he said, detecting a slight urgency to her voice, “You okay?”

  “No. I’ve just had a reporter on my doorstep. At my house! Asking about Jamie. What’s gone on?”

  “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad, but Jamie has been in the paper this morning. Some model or something that he left a party with the other night. She’s obviously the story and they must be looking to fill the gaps in with a bit about Jamie.”

  “I don’t like people turning up on my doorstep Johnny,” Cal said softly.

  “I know, and I don’t like the idea either. I’m sorry but nothing I can really do. I’ve not spoken to Jamie yet. Let me speak to him and I’ll get back to you. Okay?”

  “Thanks Johnny. I never expected this sort of thing.”

  ***

  “Hiya man. I’ll buzz you up,” said Jamie through the apartment’s intercom.

  Johnny reached the apartment and found Jamie sat with a copy of the previous day’s newspaper on the breakfast bar.

  “Hey Johnny.”

  “Hiya man. You okay?” said Johnny, putting a concerned hand on his shoulder.

  He was scouring the article for the umpteenth time. “No mention of the gig. Or the single. Nothing!” said Jamie, shaking his head slowly.

  Sitting on the back of the sofa, Johnny leant forward and glanced over the article again himself, “I’ve got to say J, she’s some woman. She’s beautiful.”

  “That’s not the point!” snapped Jamie, closing the newspaper angrily.

  “Sorry man. But this is the nature of the beast. Did you not know who she was or something?”

  “I’d h
eard the name, but I don’t pay attention to this sort of bullshit. Y‘know, completely not my thing,” laughing to himself, “But man. You’re right, she is gorgeous.”

  “You’re not kidding. You know what I’m going to ask next…”

  “You’re asking me to kiss and tell, aren’t you?” said Jamie, smiling at last.

  “Well as your management and representative,” said Johnny, assuming an exaggerated serious tone.

  “Blow job. Exquisite. That do you?”

  “May I commend you on your discretion. And will you be remaining in touch with the young lady?”

  “I dunno man. This has all been a bit of a shock. I’ve no regrets, but all this,” said Jamie, making a dismissive gesture in the direction of the newspapers.

  Looking serious, Johnny said, “You spoken to your mum today?”

  “Nah, my phone’s been on charge. Why?”

  “I should have said earlier, but some guy from the press turned up at the house. Just being nosy. Asking questions. She didn’t say anything.”

  “Fuck. That’s bang out of order. She’s okay, isn’t she?”

  “Fine. Just a little shocked by it all.”

  “Fuck me,” whistled Jamie, rubbing a hand through his hair.

  “As I said, this is the nature of the beast. It’s what keeps these papers and magazines thriving,” said Johnny as he shook the kettle.

  He scratched at the back of his head. “All out of milk,” said Jamie, pointing towards the fridge. “I don’t want this for us. Not just yet. Un-fuckin-believable…” said Jamie, with a weary shake of his head.

  “The others said anything yet?”

  “You can guess, can’t you? Dominic was ridiculously jealous. Said he wanted to be the first to fuck someone famous,” Jamie said, laughing loudly.

  “I’ll leave you to it anyhow man. And give your mum a quick shout,” said Johnny.

  “You down at rehearsal later?”

  “Yeah. I will. Few things to chat over,” said Johnny.

  Exchanging a quick hug, Johnny left Jamie to his thoughts.

  Checking his now fully charged phone, Jamie saw two messages from his concerned mother. And one from Lara. Jamie felt his stomach tighten slightly as he opened it –

  ‘Hello Jamie Thorne. I take it you’ve seen the papers. Hope it won’t put you off. L x’

  ***

  A lewd cheer echoed round the room as Jamie stepped into the rehearsal room. Putting his guitar case down, he raised his hands in front of his face. “No pictures please!”

  Putting his own guitar down, Dom strode over to his twin and shook him vigorously by the hand. “Good work J. Stuffy twat. Definitely should have been me though!”

  Addressing all his bandmates, who were stood or sat with inane grins decorating their faces, Jamie said, “Right. Joke’s over. I didn’t know who she was. And yes, she is gorgeous. And no, I won’t be telling you any more than that!”

  After a couple of run throughs of the new material, the rehearsal room door opened, and Johnny stepped inside.

  The track came to an end and before introductions could be exchanged, Dominic, as direct as ever, chimed up, “Well, well. Johnny Harrison. You sly old dog!” he shouted.

  “Yes, go on. You’ve got one minute,” laughed Johnny resignedly.

  “Fit. Very fit,” said D-Mo, nodding his head and offering up a fist bump above his bass.

  Mikee made the internationally recognised divers’ signal of ‘okay’ with a giant circled finger and thumb.

  “Got to say I was impressed Mr H. She was lovely looking. Very fit. I take it you gave her a night to remember?” cajoled Dominic.

  Johnny winced inwardly at the recollection of ‘giving her a memorable night’.

  “No kiss and tell from me. The older man definitely doesn’t do that!”

  “Yeah, yeah. All that bollocks. Spill,” demanded Dominic.

  “All I’ll say Master Dominic, is that I may well see her again,” said Johnny, happy with the façade.

  He was still unsure as to how to play the whole Amanda situation.

  On one hand, it felt very much like unfinished business – that and the fact that she was gorgeous. On the other, he felt that he would be under inordinate amounts of pressure to ‘perform’ this time. Having poured over the internet, he was now an expert on erectile dysfunction. Several sessions of ‘me-time’ had been conducted positively but no pressure there…

  “Okay. You’ve had your minute. Fun’s over. Let’s go over the schedule for the next few weeks…”

  Chapter 36

  Looking down at the mobile phone screen, Jamie’s thumb hovered over the green call symbol. It had been a strange experience ‘researching’ a potential partner. He had resisted temptation for a couple of days, but curiosity had got the better of him. He didn’t want to see her as some tabloid figure. He had felt that there was a connection between them, as clichéd as that sounded. They had talked for several hours about their lives so far – Jamie talking about the start of his path to potential fame, Lara talking about a road well-travelled even at the tender age of twenty-three.

  And then they had kissed. After that, Lara had slowly dropped to her knees, unbuckled his belt and then blown him like he had never been blown before. Her deft tongue caused him to cum much quicker than he had hoped. After this she had stood, met his lustful stare and said, “I’ll see you again, Jamie Thorne.”

  ***

  “Lara. Jamie.”

  “Jamie Thorne. I knew you’d call…”

  Her American accent more pronounced over the telephone.

  “I said I would. And why wouldn’t I?”

  “Why indeed.”

  “We’re busy for the next week, some promotion work and that…”

  “And that?” Lara repeated it back as a question, her transatlantic drawl making the Northernism sound decidedly peculiar.

  “Y’know. Just record company stuff, but we’ll be in London,” said Jamie, feeling slightly nervous.

  “I know. I’m just playing with you.” Lara paused. “This stuff in the paper. Don’t let it bother you. The assholes will make whatever shit up that they want to.”

  Jamie laughed softly. “I know. All a bit new to me though.”

  “And Jamie Thorne. You were caught on camera looking right at my ass!”

  “Guilty as charged. It’s a lovely arse. Who could blame me though?”

  “Arse?” Lara rolled the word around her tongue. “I prefer ass.”

  “Can I see you again?”

  “So smooth Mr Rockstar. You’ll learn.”

  “Can I see you again please?”

  “I do like you English and your manners. Thank you. And yes. Soon. I’m flying back to America next week.”

  “I’ll let y’ know as soon as I know when I’m gonna be free. And I enjoyed the other night.”

  “Well, Jamie Lonely Souls. I’ll be waiting your call. My cell won’t leave my side. Don’t keep me waiting.”

  “I won’t. Bye Lara.”

  “Bye Jamie Thorne.”

  ***

  There was a feel that a shift in gears had taken place. The top-thirty/top twenty-five charting single – which sounded better had been the subject of an hour-long pub debate – had seen to that. And together with the tabloid fodder attention that had followed Jamie’s liaison, the band were certainly on their way to becoming public property.

  Social media captured this perfectly. Public opinion was an easily measured barometer now that anybody’s opinion could be registered on the digital equivalent of the toilet wall.

  None of them would ever be short of offers of sex – of varying degrees of sincerity and depravity. Cutting through the cyber chaff did however reveal an all-important love for the band’s songs. The expectation for the album to drop was significant – the smart kids already declaring that ‘Salvation’ was the best track of the year by an undisputed mile.

  ***

  The album was three days from release. Do
wnload. Album and CD formats would soon be available for purchase – or even more widely available for illegal download Jamie had grumbled. The artwork looked tremendous – a black sleeve, with the band picked out in red shading. The all-important band name and album title picked out in bold white letters.

  Ladies and Gentlemen, we give you the first long-playing set of songs by Lonely Souls – Salvation.

  A couple of radio sessions – XFM and BBC Six Music provided more valuable exposure for them – the buzz surrounding them growing by the day. The post-album tour was now virtually sold out with venues in London and Manchester having to be up-sized due to demand.

  And Jamie. He remained stoic about his romantic dalliance despite the constant cajoling and wheedling from the band to disclose the lurid details. The fact that he showed no signs of on the surface irritability was a credit to him.

  ‘Hello Jamie Thorne. I am still in London. Aren’t you lucky. I am staying at my apartment. We can meet later. If you want… x’

  Johnny had also felt emboldened, having received a similar message from Amanda.

  ‘Mr Manager. I hear you are in London. Do cal. A x’

  ***

  Bending down to collect the post, Cally opened the familiar Amazon packaging as carefully as she could. Despite having been sent a promotional copy of the album the previous week, she wanted to ensure that she had done her bit for her boys’ success, and had ordered a copy to arrive on the day of its release. Proudly looking down at the pristine CD, she rubbed a motherly finger over the cellophane film, smiling at the boys, who stared determinedly back, all Rockstar attitude and cheekbones. Placing the album centrally on the mantelpiece, and then re-positioning it slightly, she stood back and admired it, a warm smile on her face.

  Unusually for her, she had a date later that evening. Having declined an invite to the album launch party, Cally had accepted an invitation for a meal and drinks from a friend of a friend. It was almost a ‘blind date’ – her lifelong friend Jo had encouraged her that she should get out more and had lined her up with a colleague of hers that she made met briefly. A date. An actual date, she thought to herself as she finally started to give thought to her wardrobe.

 

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