So I Married a Rockstar

by Marina Maddix

"Bye, Lola."

  "Are you telling me that he just left you hanging on the edge of orgasm without finishing you off?"

  Pepper, whose hair is a vivid green now, is positively outraged at my revelation two days later. We're sitting in a booth at the back of Pepper's Pot but, as usual, it's packed. No fewer than four heads turn our way at her words.

  "Shhh," I hiss. "Besides, that's not the point. The point is that he left without having sex. What guy does that? I thought it was against their code or something."

  Pepper shrugs and bites a hunk out of one of her incredible asiago rolls. "Guys may be a lot of things, Lo, but they're still human. Sounds like the dude wants more than a backstage quickie."

  "But..." I shake my head but I feel the truth of her words. "Naw, it can't be."

  "Why?" She swipes her forearm across her chin to wipe away a dribble of curry pumpkin soup. Pepper doesn't bother with social etiquette. She figures she's already covered in soup anyway, so what's a little more.

  I take a thoughtful -- and much more tidy -- spoonful of my Thai-spiced watermelon soup with crab meat. My answer is a moan as I savor the way the serrano peppers boost the crab and balance the sweetness of the watermelon. Pepper's creativity never fails to astound me.

  She grins and repeats her question. It takes a few seconds for me to fully recover.

  "Come on, Pepper. Look at Drax. Then look at me."

  She's about to argue and tell me how gorgeous I am, but I hold up a hand before she can ask the restaurant full of people if they'd fuck me.

  "I'm not coming down on myself, but get real. Besides, our lifestyles are totally incompatible. I'm a homebody. You know that better than anyone. And Drax is...well, he's no homebody."

  "Well, that's true. I can't count how many times you've ambushed me into playing Scrabble with your dads when I came over to take you out clubbing. But maybe a little partying would be good for you, ever think of that? Loosen you up a bit?"

  "I tried, I really did, but I didn't like who I became. He talked me into wearing a corset, for goodness sake. In public!"

  Pepper narrows her eyes at me. "You didn't tell me that. Bet you looked hot as fuck!"

  I blush at the compliment and the memory. At the time, I was kind of horrified, but looking back, I did look pretty voluptuous. Drax seemed to think so, anyway. Then I remember Drax's ex-girlfriend Shelby laughing at me when my boob popped out of the contraption.

  "I think in the end I looked scary. Doesn't matter. I just don't understand what he wants from me."

  Pepper smirks. "He probably wants to marry you."

  I choke on a hunk of crabmeat and start coughing uncontrollably. Pepper hops up and slaps me on the back, as if that trick has ever worked once in the history of the world.

  "You okay?" she asks, all innocence and sweetness. Pepper is anything but innocent and sweet.

  I wave her away once I can breathe again. "Yeah, fine. Just went down the wrong pipe."

  "Ah. I thought it might have been something I said."

  I snap my gaze up to meet hers. There's a twinkle there but I can't tell if she knows something or is just teasing me. She can't know, I finally decide, no matter what the warning bells in my head say. Not only does she not have time to read gossip sites, I know for a fact that she loathes their very existence because she tells me so every time she catches me looking at one on my phone.

  "Nope, just crab."

  The silence between us is weirdly awkward so I focus on my soup. I chance a peek up only to catch her grinning at me.

  "What?"

  She points her spoon at me, dripping orange soup all over the table. "It's true! That was you! I thought so but Raul said it couldn't be when I showed him. But it was! You married the rockstar!"

  More heads swivel in our direction, instinctively knowing that our conversation is infinitely more interesting than yet another discussion about fluctuating interest rates.

  "How the hell did you find out? And when?! I've been back for two weeks and you didn't say a word."

  She's guffawing now and the whole restaurant watches. Pepper's known for her curt and frequently surly attitude toward customers, so to see her laugh must be a treat. Or maybe they're hoping she'll send everyone a round of Pepper's Poppers.

  "I saw the blog post the night it was posted," she manages to say through chortles. "I showed Raul but he said you'd never do something so foolish, and that you'd never dress like that in public."

  I blush because Raul's right. Lauren would never do such a thing. But apparently Lola had other plans.

  "I didn't say anything because I assumed if I was right, you'd tell me the minute you got home. Since you didn't, I figured Raul was right. But can I just tell you how pissed off I am that you didn't tell me? Real bitch move for a bestie."

  She's smiling but I can tell my not-so-little secret has hurt her feelings. We tell each other everything, so my keeping this from her is pretty major. As if I don't feel bad enough as it is.

  "I swear I was going to tell you after Drax's lawyers finalized the annulment."

  Pepper's eyes bulge out. "Annulment? Why the fuck would you do such a dumb-ass thing?"

  "Um, because of all the stuff we just talked about? Any of that ring a bell? Or how about because we were trashed out of our gourds and didn't know what we were doing."

  She sniffs at my reasons. "No way. No way did that dude marry you on accident. I'll bet you a double scoop of Double Rainbow ice cream that he was fully aware the whole time."

  I bark out a laugh that doesn't sound as self-assured as I want it to. "You're a crazy woman, you know that?"

  A nearby businessman chuffs at my statement and Pepper flashes him a glare that would burn the paint off a car. "Got something to say, Chuckles?"

  He's been here before, apparently, because he quickly shakes his head and buries it in his bowl of soup.

  "Yeah, thought so," she snorts. Turning her attention back to me, she says, "Lo, I love you more than my own bitch of a sister. I would do anything for you. I will also support you in anything you do. But when I see you self-destructing, don't expect me to keep my big bazoo shut."

  I have no idea what she's talking about so all I can do is look at her blankly.

  "I don't know this guy. Never seen you two together. But since he whooshed into your life, I've never seen you more alive. It's like you're a human version of The Wizard of Oz. You've been existing in a sepia-toned world and suddenly you're running around in Technicolor, baby."

  I open my mouth to object, to tell her that I liked my old life, that I don't belong in his world, but she holds her spoon up to stop me.

  "I know, your old life was so comfy cozy, like an old pair of slippers. I say chuck those mangy mules in the trash and slide into some FMPs."

  At my confusion, she explains: "Fuck Me Pumps. Trust me, you'll love 'em. They may not be comfortable at first, but you'll never regret wearing them."

  Is she right? Have I fallen into a rut already? At such a young age? Maybe, but that doesn't change the main problem here.

  "But I can't live that lifestyle, Pepper. Look what I did during my one wild night of drinking. You know my family history. I won't risk it."

  "Listen to me, Lo. You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. You know as well as I do that you could find a balance between what you think his lifestyle is and what you want your lifestyle to be. Besides, you'll never know if you don't try."

  "So what exactly are you saying?"

  She rolls her eyes. I'm clearly the thickest person on the planet according to Pepper.

  "I'm saying, if you go through with this annulment bullshit, you'll have to find a new place to eat lunch."

  On my walk back home, I detour through the quirky Mission District and muse on what Pepper said. I'm pretty sure she wasn't serious about banning me from Pepper's Pot, but I certainly can't rule it out. As good as her soup is, I would never base a big decision on the threat of being denied it. Well, not this big, anyway.
<
br />   It's her words about Drax that keep playing over and over in my head. That he had to know what he was doing the night we went to the chapel. I wrack my brain, trying to remember how drunk he was but it's all pretty foggy. The important snippets stand out, but the more mundane stuff, such as how many shooters I tossed back or exactly which snotty girl hooked up with which bandmember, are a blank.

  All I know is that he still seems pretty miffed that I don't want to continue with our sham of a 'marriage'. Which is pretty strange, really. Sure, he's still attracted to me and wants to pursue the rockstar version of a relationship, but it's not possible a guy like him would really want to commit the rest of his life to a girl like me.

  Is it?

  I'm so lost in thought that I'm not paying attention to my surroundings and almost get knocked down by a bicycle messenger as I cross the street. The tatted guy speeds by and gestures with one hand. I choose to believe he's waving and continue on, more aware of everything around me.

  That's how I see them, standing in line to get into a trendy new restaurant. Drax is dressed as gritty as ever, which contrasts sharply with the stylish outfit on the woman standing next to him. Her back is to me but I know I've seen her before.

  My gut clenches and I very narrowly miss being mowed down by a skateboarder before I jump onto the relative safety of the sidewalk. There I duck behind a slender tree and peek around to confirm my suspicions.

  Drax's date shakes her long, wheat-colored hair then turns a winning smile on him, offering me the perfect view. Sure enough, it's Shelby. His ex. What's she doing here? She lives in Las Vegas.

  A well-dressed older couple in front of them turn to laugh at whatever joke the perfect Shelby just told. In an instant, I can see the resemblance. The man has Drax's height and coloring, while the woman has clear blue eyes. They have to be his parents.

  Shelby leans into Drax, winding an arm around his waist and dropping her head onto his shoulder. His parents beam. What the hell is going on? Some kind of twisted family reunion?

  No, this is something else entirely. Shelby is being far too handsy for a regular ex. And the fact they're out with his parents says even more. They're back together!

  I can't decide if I should cry, scream or vomit, so I do none of them. Instead, I seethe from behind the refuge of my skinny tree.

  How dare he? Just two days ago he got naked with me, pressured me about our 'relationship', yet here he is canoodling with his ex. What a hypocrite! What's worse, he's a cheater. I bet a dollar she doesn't know about our little rendezvous in my bedroom.

  I have half a mind to stomp up to the happy little quartet and tell them exactly what's what but I realize tears are streaming down my cheeks. People are looking at me as they walk past, though no one's approached me yet. It's only a matter of time. The Mission is filled with friendly hipsters and old-school hippies who want everyone to live in love and harmony. Anything that doesn't conform to that really harshes their buzz.

  I turn to run down an alley and smack into yet another bicyclist, this time a very thin Asian woman dressed in khakis and a funky military-style hat. There's no way she can hold up to my heft and she goes flying, her already-beat-up bike crashing at my feet.

  "Oh, are you okay?" I hurry over to where she's landed. She's rubbing her narrow hip and wincing, but otherwise she seems in one piece. Thank goodness she's wearing a helmet

  "I'm fine," she says. "It's my fault anyway for riding on the sidewalk. I know better. At least I didn't fall in that pile of shit."

  I glance to where she's looking, about two feet from where she landed, and see said pile. And it's not from a dog. I shudder at just how gross people can be and help her to her feet. She's so tiny, it's like helping a kitten stand up.

  "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

  "Nope, I'm good. You have a good day, m'kay? Later!" She waves -- a real wave -- and jumps back on her bike, this time rolling down the street.

  I turn and bump into someone else. What the hell is going on today?! But the moment I breathe in, I know who this someone is, even before his strong hands grip my shoulders. I tip my head back for hours until I meet his hypnotic eyes.

  "Uh...hi."

  "Are you okay? Were you hurt?" Drax's face is full of concern and my heart threatens to shred apart.

  "No, I'm fine, really. I was more worried about her, to be honest."

  He doesn't even glance at the woman riding away. His focus is lasered in on me, searching my features to make sure I'm not lying or in shock.

  "Draymond?" a smooth female voice coos. "What's going on, darling?"

  "Yes, son, what seems to be the trouble?"

  His parents are about as stiff as plywood, dressed in clothes that even I can tell must have cost a fortune. Nothing I read about Drax mentioned much about his family, but they're clearly well-off.

  "No trouble," he says. "Mother, Father, this is Lauren Raines, Roadkill's manager."

  Two sets of lips press into hard, thin lines of disapproval but they hold their tongues. I'm guessing they've had a lifetime of practice.

  "Pleasure, dear. I'm Sandy and this is my husband Warren."

  She puts out her hand so I shake it as I learned from my dads -- firm and fast. It's like holding onto a rotten fish and I can't wait to drop it. She clearly feels the same from the grimace she's wearing. His is a little better, but not much.

  "Nice to meet you both. I didn't know you lived in San Francisco."

  "Oh, God no," Warren snorts. "We live in Manhattan. We're just out visiting Draymond for a bit."

  I try to resist but my gaze flicks over to where Shelby is now pouting with her fists on her slim hips. Sandy notices and breaks out in a megawatt smile.

  "That's Shelby, our soon-to-be daughter-in-law."

  "Mother, stop that. You know that's not true." Drax snaps, oblivious to the fact that the world just stopped spinning. I wonder if I'll ever breathe again...

  "Oh hush, Draymond. One never knows where one's life will lead. It's possible my dreams could come true and you'll produce an heir with one of the most intelligent, beautiful and winning creatures in our circle."

  "Sandy, leave the poor boy alone." Warren's voice drops to a loud whisper. "You know if you push him he'll push back, just to defy us."

  He gives me a wink, as if to say, 'Ain't that right, sister?' I do my best to smile but it must not have worked. He looks almost offended by it.

  "Well, we really must be off," Sandy says. "Poor Shelby's over there holding our place in line. I'm baffled as to why we're eating at an establishment that doesn't take reservations but I suppose we must all be up for an adventure now and then."

  "It was...nice to meet you," I stutter, just now getting the feeling back in my extremities after her previous shocking announcement. "I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."

  Warren snorts again. "I should hope not. No offense to you, my dear, but Draymond will be joining us in New York shortly and I only make it out here a couple times a year to race in the bigger regattas. I suppose you don't get back east very often."

  It wasn't a question.

  "And would you believe it?" Sandy cuts in. "Shelby has accepted a position teaching at Columbia. Isn't that wonderful? The Dynamic Duo together again. Hopefully till death do they part, this time."

  "Mother..."

  She waves a bony hand at him, despite the giant diamond weighing it down. "Never mind. Good luck with...everything, dear. Come along, Warren."

  They totter off, waving madly at Shelby and trying not to touch anyone or anything along the way. I watch them as long as I can so I don't have to look at Drax. A lot of information came my way in the last minute or so and I'm having trouble processing it.

  "You're moving to New York?" I squeak out. Naturally, there's a bigger question spinning around in my brain, but asking about Shelby would seem so...desperate.

  "Guess that depends on you."

  "H-how?" Is this where he pressures me again? Say you love me and I'll stay, is
what I imagine he'll say. A little voice inside me pipes up, So say it.

  "You have till the end of the week to come up with a plan or the band breaks up, remember? Otherwise, I suck it up and go work with my father."

  "Doing what?"

  "Teaching music. He's the headmaster at a private school. Figures a real 'rock-and-roller', as he calls me, will be a boon to their music program. Maybe I'll start another band."

  "In New York."

  He gives me a 'why not' shrug. "It's not like there's anything keeping me here. Right, Lola?"

  I nod but I can't meet his eyes. They see the truth of me and that's not something I'm willing to share right now, mostly because I'm not sure what it is myself.

  I hate myself for what I'm about to ask, but I can't resist. "And Shelby?"

  I feel his hot gaze on me, but I carefully mask my features as I study the metal stud embedded on his jacket collar.

  "Why do you care?"

  "I don't! I just..."

  "Listen up, darlin'. I've had just about enough of this wishy-washy bullshit. First you want me, then you don't. But wait, maybe you do. Nope, not this time. I'm crazy about you but there's only so much a man can take, Lauren. You need to figure out what it is you want. If you can do that by Friday, let me know. If not, it's been nice knowin' ya."

  Crazy about me?

  I'm left staring after him as he stomps away, my heart hammering in my chest. He's called me out, and he's completely justified. He's been nothing if not consistent in his pursuit of me. It's me who's the asshole, the one who keeps changing the rules of the game. He's right. I do need to figure out what I want, and fast.

  I ache for him to turn around, take one last look before following the hostess inside. If he does, that means there's hope I haven't waited too long. If he doesn't, it could mean he's so fed up that he doesn't want to waste anymore energy on me. Please turn around, please turn around, please turn around...

  He doesn't.

  The last three days have been sheer hell. Not only am I no closer to deciding what I want from Drax, my luck hasn't changed in finding a venue that will book Roadkill. I'm running out of time. If I could get them a gig, I might be able to talk Drax into giving me more time to figure out my own shit.