I Hate You Rock Stars

by Brie Kraus

  Maybe she’d go skydiving.

  Maybe she’d open a sanctuary for endangered monkeys in Singapore, or, probably not since she never cared for monkeys in the first place.

  Maybe she’d stay with Julian forever.

  Emma frowned. It didn’t matter how many times she beat that thought out of her head, it kept forcing its way back in. She wanted him, craved him; hell, her body was on the point of near obsession with him, but if there was one thing she’d realized was true, it was that when Jules said that she’d never really loved Luke, he’d been right. Luke had hurt her, torn her heart apart in a way that made her think nothing in this world could mend it back together, even though Emma had never truly loved him. Thinking about how much she could be hurt by someone she only thought she had forced her to consider how much a person she truly loved could damage her fragile heart. The thought of that was too painful to bear.

  Once again, Emma pushed the thought that said she could stay with Jules forever away. She’d put it tight inside a box with chains and throw it into an ocean, never to be seen again, though, it wasn’t easy with Jules sitting there, being the most perfect man, as he had been the last two days.

  It had been busy; Emma had moved her things into the house and set up her room, even though she had spent every night in Julian’s. She’d also much of time dodging her father, Luke, and even Becca, whom she couldn’t even consider facing. All of these exhausting activities preoccupied her mind, not allowing her to consider Jules’ offer.

  Jules had been even busier than she had. While he wanted nothing more than to spend all of the time that he could with Emma, now that he had finally broken her out of that angsty attitude; the fact that he released a new song, and the media had put him on high priority watch status, meant that he wasn’t able to do everything he wanted, like make Emma so unendingly dizzy and distracted with kisses that she never remembered hating him.

  Still, the two had fallen into a good rhythm; as long as Jules remembered not to remind her that she wasn’t supposed to like him, then Emma felt just fine about giving her body what it wanted, which was more and more Julian.

  “Remind me why I’m here again?” Emma whined.

  “Because,” Jules whispered to her, while steering her through the crowd with his hand on the small of her back. “I have to be here, which means that you have to be here.”

  “Why?” she asked again, resisting the urge to stamp her foot like a four year old.

  Jules frowned, which was meant to hide his chuckle before saying, “Because the press needs to see how in love we are.”

  As he said it, Jules leant down to kiss Emma possessively on the mouth while the flashes around them went crazy. He stopped and turned to smile to the crowd, while Emma tried to regain her breath. She hoped that he didn’t know that his touch still made her heart have little spasms in her chest.

  They were at some unveiling of some new kind of technology which prevented music piracy or something or other; she hadn’t been paying attention. Jules had been dressing when he’d told her, and his lean physique made it very hard to resist his request for her to accompany him.

  Jules took her hand and led her to the bar to get a drink while being stopped half a dozen times along the way by preening fans or grasping celebrities.

  Emma let her mind wander, which was something she should not have been doing. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t think about the phone call she’d gotten that afternoon from her father, demanding that they have lunch tomorrow to “discuss things”, but it couldn’t be helped, she was nervous and Jules noticed, pulling her into a little, dark corner and looking at her with a serious expression on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Emma replied, “I’m just bored.”

  Jules snorted. “This is worse than just your normal hatred of doing these things with me. Now stop being a brat and tell me what’s wrong.”

  Emma narrowed her eyes at him, but couldn’t keep it up for long as he wound his fingers with hers.

  “It’s my dad. We’re having lunch tomorrow.”

  He frowned for a second. “If you don’t want to, then don’t go.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to its just—it’s just, he’s going to try and get me to leave.”

  Jules moved his hands up to cup her face. “Emma, you’re not going anywhere.”

  She smiled at, about to say something, but Jules silenced her with a fierce kiss.

  “Emma, please don’t leave me,” he said.

  Emma looked at him and tried to keep the tears out of her eyes. His gray eyes glowed silver, like they did when he felt emotional.

  At that moment, Emma knew what to say to him. “I’ll never leave you.”

  Chapter 27

  “Sit down, Emma,”

  Her father’s soft command did not go unnoticed as Emma sank into the soft, and comfortable, armchair at the small, but classy café her father had chosen to meet with her at. From the moment Emma walked in, she had been uneasy. Her father hadn’t noticed her straight away, and in the second it took him to jump up from his chair, Emma had already spotted his drooped head and sagging shoulders. In all of her 18 years, she had only seen her father look that defeated once: the day her mother died. The thought had brought an unexpected rush of sympathy to her before turning to anger as she wondered whether that was his new tactic: use guilt to trick her into coming home with him.

  Emma stiffened her shoulders and walked forward to meet him with the same determination to anger him as she had before she spotted his desolation. “Father.”

  A waiter arrived with a black coffee for her father and a ginger beer for her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “I ordered for you.”

  Emma frowned, she refused to admit to him that it was what she would have ordered for herself.

  Her father sipped his coffee, studying her behavior.

  Emma shifted under his gaze, her hands pulling on her black tights and plucking lint off of the gray mini dress she wore. After another minute of his silent staring, and Emma’s , obvious avoidance, she looked at him and in a stern voice asked, “So, I’m waiting. Aren’t you going to start telling me how stupid I’m being and demand I come home with you?”

  He just sighed, his bushy eyebrows bunching together. “You know,” he said with a weight to his voice, different from the condemnation she had expected, “this morning when as I thought about this meeting, that was exactly what I planned to say to you. I planned to tell you that you were just a child, that you didn’t know what you were doing—that there was nothing for you here.”

  Emma frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand.

  “Please, let me finish. That was what I was going to say. But, on my way here from the hotel, I happened to spot this.”

  His wrinkled, heavy hand reached back into the coat hanging on the back of his chair and brought out a magazine. Her father handed it to her in silence, watching Emma’s face as her eyes went to the picture of Jules, smiling a little to herself before turning to look at the less beautiful, but happy girl in his arms.

  The title read “Jules And Emma In Love”.

  It was a picture from last night—man they got these things out quickly, Emma thought. Jules held her face between his palms, and to the camera, it looked like they were about to kiss. Only Emma knew that it was actually the moment when she’d told Julian that she was never going to leave, and he had smiled at her with jovialness that it had frozen her for a second.

  Emma swallowed the memory down hard so that she could look at her father stonily. “And what? You decided to bring this so that you could remind me that I was just a silly kid?”

  Her father frowned again and something about it reminded Emma of sadness. “I brought that magazine, because when I looked at it, I realized…I realized that I have been blind and very wrong.”

  Emma blinked at him, not sure she comprehended what she had just heard.

 
; “You love this boy.”

  Again, Emma just blinked.

  “You love him, in a way that you never loved Luke. I can see that now. I can see that a part of you was just trying to please me with that relationship, even before you realized how much I had to gain from it.”

  Emma sensed shame in her father’s voice.

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand, what—why are you saying this?”

  “Because I love you, Emma, more than you think I do because of what I’ve done to you. I truly love you.”

  He bobbed his head slightly and took a sip from his coffee. Emma mimicked him and drank her ginger beer. It tasted bitter.

  “When you said to me last week that I had tried to sell you to Luke, I needed you to know that I never saw it that way. To my mind, as wrong and cruel as it turned out to be, to my mind, you and Luke were in love; so, when his parents offered me a way to repair what I had lost, it seemed the right—even the helpful thing to do.”

  A minute of silence followed before Emma said. “I don’t think I ever really loved Luke.”

  To her surprise her father nodded. “I realized that this morning, when I saw this.” He pointed to the magazine. “Up until then, all I’d know was that he loved you. I had no idea that you felt the same way.”

  “What would make you think we wouldn’t love each other if we were engaged?”

  “Emma, you and I both know that you hadn’t met that boy until you ran away from Luke. I’m not blaming you, but I know you; you’re far too guarded to let something like that genuinely happen.”

  Emma had to admit that that he was right. In general, aside from the Luke fiasco, she wasn’t the kind of girl who just jumped into anything with reckless abandonment, particularly when she risked something as fragile as her heart.

  Something else he’d said came back up, demanding her attention. “What did you mean when you said that you only knew that Jules loved me? He doesn’t love me.”

  Her father smiled as though he recalled a fond memory. “Ahh, so you two have not got that far yet. Emma, for as little I can say that I know about Julian, I know that he loves you. That boy is infatuated.”

  Emma shook her head. “You can’t know that, you’ve never even spoken to him.”

  Her father looked confused for a second, his brows crinkling. “Yes, I have. Last week at the hotel, when he came to pick up the rest of his things. After, the events, we talked, and while I was very determined to dislike the boy, I have to admit that he has a certain…integrity, which I respect.”

  Her father looked at her, expecting her to agree and start praising Julian.

  Instead, Emma narrowed her eyes and asked, “What events?”

  At this her father raised an eyebrow, wondering why she failed to understand him straight away. “I mean, when your “friend” Rebecca, once again, propositioned herself to Julian.”

  “Becca?” Emma blurted out, her voice dropping than a whisper. She felt like she’d just swallowed a block of ice; the cold swept over and encased her body until she felt the final plop as it landed in her gut.

  “Yes, Becca. Of course, when I walked into his hotel room to, I’m sorry to say, try and scare him away from you, and saw him with the girl who was supposed to be your best friend I stormed off to tell you. I’m sorry to say that I was more than a little pleased to have my suspicions confirmed, but it seems that, that boy is as much a track star as a musician for how fast he caught up to me, and as much as I didn’t want to believe that the affection, and attempt, was all on Becca’s side, listening to Julian explain that he would never do anything to lose you—well, there is no doubting something when it is completely true.”

  The ice in Emma’s stomach faded. While she was more revolted than she could possibly explain at the thought of Jules’ lips on Becca, a deep primal place in her recognized that he would never do that to her. Becca on the other hand—well, she was just a bitch! Emma couldn’t wait to see those perky curls bounce when she punched Becca to the moon!

  “Emma,” her father said, “the real thing I wanted to say is that, I want you to be happy, and as much as I don’t want to let you go, if being happy means you staying in London with Julian then I’m not going to stop you.”

  Emma blinked at him, certain that her hearing was faulty. She had no defense planned for compassion.

  “I won’t even disapprove, because I’ll know that you’ll be happy.”

  Emma’s mind felt fuzzy, like someone scrunched tissue paper in her ear.

  “Bu—but,” she stammered, “what about Luke? What about the money you owe?”

  “Let me worry about that, sweetheart, it was never your debt to repay, and your mother…your mother never would have wanted you to sacrifice anything. As for Luke, he is a complete and utter fool, and well, a bit of a prick. He’ll back off once he knows there is no chance with you.”

  Emma still processed it; her father had given her permission to be with Julian. Without all of the drama, the hype, the lies, and the acting like she didn’t feel for him the way she did.

  She was still unmoving as she raised her voice just loud enough for her father to hear. “Dad,” she began, while he leaned forward in his chair, “I want to go home.”

  Chapter 28

  Emma stood outside the house that had been her sanctuary, her paradise, the last few days; the one place on earth she felt was there solely for her happiness. She stood outside Jules’ house and willed herself to say goodbye to it.

  Sitting in the car with her father had been difficult. He didn’t say much when she told him she wanted to go home. He asked her why, but Emma’s only response was a shake of her head. “May be you should stay here,” her father said when they pulled up in front of the house.

  Emma stared at the building, its window flower beds and ornate shutters, and shook her head. She had to go, she had to get out, to get away before she was dragged in deeper, deeper than she could swim or fight to stay afloat. Falling in love with Jules wouldn’t be lovely; it wouldn’t be joyful, or like a pleasant glide through a cloudless sky. She would fall hard and fast and drown in her own unfathomable, unending love for him. It would consume her, and when he spat her back out, she would have nothing, and would feel like nothing.

  Emma felt this love pulse within her chest as though it were an entity with a will of its own as it rested next to her heart, which beat in hushed silence, a stark contrast to this new, more demanding life form. It terrified her.

  Emma summoned her courage and got out of the car, walking up the narrow steps to the house, opened the door, and stepped inside. She moved as quietly as her feet allowed her to, hoping that Jules wasn’t there to confront her, to stop her. The warmth inside the house melted some of her resolve.

  She stopped in the doorway to his music room, which faced the garden, looking out at the courtyard where she’d once again let her passion get away from her. Jules sat on the piano stool, a guitar balanced in his arms as he strummed a muted melody. He didn’t notice her at first.

  As she studied him, Emma wondered why she hadn’t realized that he possessed more than sexiness. He had a beauty, one for which was not visible on the outside, a kindness and gentleness, that that Emma’s longed to be with, but was too frightened ti admit it.

  “Emma,” Jules said, straightening he saw her. The smile that had been on his face faded the moment he saw her eyes. “Emma,” his deep voice was grave now, “are you alright?”

  Emma nodded.

  Jules put the guitar down and walked to her, taking her hands, pulling her from the doorway and into the room. His arms circled around her, pushing her face into his chest. It was so natural, this little comfort, that Emma didn’t jerk away from it.

  “What happened?” He questioned, his voice still strained. “Did your dad say something? Did he ask you to leave?”

  Emma eased out of his arms, remembering what she was here to do.

  “No,” she replied, “he told me to stay. He said—he said he wants me
to be happy.”

  Jules’ brow furrowed for a moment as he tried to tie together this good news with the look of utter despair on Emma’s face.

  He looked at her, but she was glanced away, hiding her pale face with the thick curtain of her hair.

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re not happy?”

  Emma bit her lower lip, unknowingly tempting Julian even then.

  In a slow, and alien move, she wriggled out of his arms and, like always, they felt a little colder without her. “I’m leaving.”

  Her voice sounded stronger than she had expected it to, but Jules didn’t believe her.

  “What do you mean you’re leaving?” he demanded.

  “I’m going back home to be with my friends and family, and people who love me. It’s where belong.”

  Jules raised an eyebrow, irritation nagged at him. Emma saw his confusion turn to resentment. Maybe it was better this way, she thought.

  “I meant; what do you mean you’re leaving when there is nothing for you back there?” Jules took a step towards her, bridging the space between them.

  “That’s not true!” Emma shot back. “I have plenty of things for me in America, like—”

  “Family and friends, and people who love you,” Jules finished for her, the sarcasm in his voice clear.

  He took another step, his eyebrows lowering.

  “What family? Your own father tried to sell you for Christ’s sake!”

  Emma opened her mouth to defend him but was cut of once again.

  “Or maybe,” Jules started, “you think Luke is your family; the same guy who was more than willing to drag you down the aisle rather than see you happy.”

  Emma looked at him, her eyes big as her bottom lip quivered. She’d never seen him like this. She had no idea that Jules, himself, was shocked by his own behavior, unsure of why his blood boiled. He knew that he should be gentle, trying to coerce her into staying, but he couldn’t stand it. He didn’t understand why, turning his confusion into anger, an anger that frightened Emma.

  “But then,” continued Jules “you could be going home for your friends, because really they all seem great. Your best friend came all the way to London, not to make sure you were safe, but to try and cheat with your boyfriend!”