by Jesse Jordan
“You used the vocals from the demonstration for George,” Larry notes when I hand him the thumb drive with the file. “Nice choice. The instruments are different though. Oh, by the way, here's Rocky's phone number, although I guess you won't be needing it anymore.”
“Thanks, but you never know, I like the guys, maybe I'll call them up for a beer sometime when they're in town. As for the tracks, Joey's playing was sharper on the bridge in what I used. What did you think?” I ask, and Larry grins. “You like it.”
“I think you improved on perfection, which is a damn hard talent to do. I'll get this over to George's people in the morning, from what I understand they're getting the last bits of filming for the video tonight. You did good work, Cora.”
“Thanks,” I reply, getting ready to go. “If you don't mind though, I'm going to bounce. Family time, you know.”
“I understand. We'll be in touch,” Larry says, and I leave his office, going out to the parking lot. It's still early enough in the evening that I stop and pull out my phone, hoping to catch Rocky on a break before they start filming. I dial, remembering to put the phone number in my memory for later usage.
“Hello?” Rocky says when he picks up, and I can't help it, my heart skips a beat.
“Hello, I'm looking for the hottest, sexiest rock singer on the planet right now. Do I have the right number? It's his love slave calling,” I tease, getting in my car. I close the door and sit down, trying not to laugh. It's hard, I feel bubbly, lifted by the emotions that I've been running on, and I'm flying so high I don't think I'll ever have to come down.
Rocky is amused, but he keeps his deadpan voice calm as he replies. “Hold on, I think Joey's getting some Coke, but I'll see if he can talk.”
“Wise ass,” I laugh, unable to hold back. “How's filming?”
“Good,” Rocky says. “I guess the studio gave you my number?”
“Yep. Larry handed it to me himself, I told him I had to discuss a music matter with you. So, you wanna make some more music together?” I ask, purring at the end. “I was thinking something slow and sensual, maybe a duet?”
Rocky's chuckling hum sends ripples through my stomach, and I know that I must tell him the details about Bella, and soon. Yeah, Martha said he knows, but still, he deserves to be introduced to her by me, straight from my mouth. “I think that sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than what we've got planned for the night. I swear the video director is one of Gerry's buddies. Thank God George put this guy on a leash, a budget, and a timeline, or else we'd be up here doing shit all night. As it is, I think we're going to be here until two in the morning.”
“Poor baby,” I tut, truly feeling bad for him. “Well, I have an offer for you. I know you're busting your butt for the next week, but what about dinner Friday night? Uhm, just us, to clear up things between us, just to put it all on the table?”
“I'd love that,” Rocky says, his voice immediately perking up. “Where?”
“My place?” I ask. “I know it's not a five-star restaurant, but there's a very special reason I think you'd want to come.”
“I think that's great,” Rocky says. “Okay... oh, that's the key grip. We actually have key grips on this shoot. It's bonkers. Anyway, looks like I gotta go. Filming and stuff. I'll talk with you later. 'Bye.”
Rocky hangs up before I can reply, but a moment later my phone buzzes, and I see he's sent me a text message. Sry, not used to saying this. I love you.
His words warm me the whole drive to pick up Bella, and I decide to sleep over at Mom and Dad's house. If anything, it's a good bed, and when I wake up in the morning, I feel happier than I've ever been in my life. I roll over in bed, but Bella's still asleep, and I let her sleep, going out to the living room where Mom and Dad are already up, Dad watching the morning news before he heads off to work. “Good morning, guys.”
“Good morning, sweetie,” Mom says. “How did you two sleep?”
“Better than I have in months,” I answer, going over and giving Mom a hug. “Thanks again for being so patient with my craziness and watching Bella.”
“You asked us to watch our granddaughter. Of course, we're going to,” Dad says, finishing off his coffee. “I'm just glad you got a few days off now. Please tell me you are taking a late weekend?”
“Of course, Daddy,” I tell him, going and giving him a hug too. “I plan on taking this whole week off, and after Saturday's concert, which by the way, thank you for agreeing to watch Bella then too, I'll evaluate from there. The check for the base session rate from Gashouse came in, they paid me ten thousand dollars. Can you believe it?”
“I hope that's not all they're paying you,” Dad comments. “Ten grand for an album that you say is going to set sales records is hardly fair in my opinion.”
“No, I've got residuals in my contract,” I say as I sit down on the couch. “It's not great, superstar producers make a lot more, but I will get residuals. Plus, I get more if any song is chosen for use in a movie or TV show, paid per annum.”
Dad blinks, he doesn't really work with contracts and raises an eyebrow. I love him, he never even batted an eye when I went to him as a high school freshman and asked for the money to get a laptop that would allow me to do music and video editing. Instead of haggling about price, or telling me that I was being stupid, the very next weekend he took me to the store and got the staff to help me pick out exactly what I needed. When I offered to start paying him back with some of the money I was making from YouTube for the videos of The Shattered Dreams, Dad refused, and instead made me put it into savings for college. He's the best dad in the world, but he's terrible with understanding business contracts. “Huh?”
“Dad, what I mean is that I'm going to make money off the albums and singles too. I ran the numbers, if they go platinum with the album, I'll get nearly twenty grand in residuals this year on album sales alone. I'm not going to be on easy street, but it'll help,” I reassure him. “It's a start, but the big thing is building my rep.”
Dad nods, understanding that at least, and gets out of his chair. “Well, I need to get into the office, I have a video meeting with the Miami office at nine. Take care, honey.”
Dad gives me and Mom a kiss, heading out while Mom relaxes with her book and her morning coffee. I relish the silence, but I can feel Mom's eyes glancing over from time to time. “Okay, Mom, what do you want to know?”
“You haven't told me about your plans for Friday,” Mom says, grinning. “Do I need to bring out the tickle torture like when you were five?”
I laugh, flopping down on the couch and putting my arm over my eyes. “You're terrible, Mom. The world's worst mother, you know that?”
“I know. Doesn't mean I'm not going to tickle you if you don't tell me,” Mom says laughingly. “So, spill it, what are you hoping for?”
“Happily ever after,” I say simply, sighing happily. “Mom, the time in the booth with Rocky and the guys, it was the best time I've ever had, even more than hanging out in the garage back in high school. I know I never said anything about Bella, but Mom, he apparently knows and... he said he loves me. Now, before you get started, I know that I can't keep this relationship going with Bella staying a stranger to Rocky, but Mom... that's what Friday night's for. Bella's going to be there, and we're going to introduce her to Rocky then. I know he's going to love her, Mom, I just know it.”
Mom hums then comes over and sits down in the empty spot on the couch, looking me over. “Honey, I really hope so. I'm worried, the way this has developed is so out of order that I can't help but worry. I mean... Well, it doesn't matter. I hope that your love and his can smooth this out. In the meantime, let's relax, and when Bella wakes up, I was thinking of taking the two of you out for lunch before I have to start getting ready for work this evening.”
“What about sleep, Mom?” I ask, and Mom laughs. “What?”
“I've gotten past that whole idea of having to sleep before work anymore. I've got enough years in the system to be able to w
ork just first and second shift now, so I sleep from midnight to seven right now. So, I've gotten plenty of sleep, and Bella is like a shot of energy anyway,” Mom says, finishing off her coffee. “Come on, let's get some breakfast in you, and we can look at getting Bella up after that if she's not already.”
It's hard not being able to do much more than exchange text messages with Rocky for the next few days. They're so busy with appearances and getting things hyped for the debut of Four Letters. However, George's connections come through and they've gotten the Starlight Bowl for Saturday night. It's not the biggest arena in Los Angeles, but with a great vista with an old fashioned real amphitheater look, and the money that George is putting behind this, it's going to be big. My ticket was delivered to me via signed courier and looking at it, I'm excited.
“Mommy, what's that?” Bella asks, and I show her the ticket. She can't read, but she's seen enough ticket stubs from things I've gone to, she knows what it is, and she can point to the band name on the tickets. “Who are they?”
“These are Mommy's friends,” I tell Bella, picking her up and putting her in my lap. “Actually Bella, the singer, Rocky- he and Mommy want to start dating. I've told you about Rocky before, right?”
“You went to high school with him. Mommy, what's high school?” Bella asks, and I smile, she's got a million questions.
“You'll see. But my point is Bella, Rocky doesn't know you yet. So, tomorrow I invited him to dinner. I want to introduce him to you, to let him get to know you. Mommy thinks he's really a special person, and I want him to get to know the most special person in my life... you.”
“That sounds like fun, Mommy,” Bella says. “Does Rocky like Kitty?”
I laugh, ruffling Bella's hair. “I don't know honey, I've never asked. Now, Mommy's got a little bit to do to get ready for all this, so can you play with your coloring books while I get that done? After that, we'll start getting dinner ready.”
Bella's a great little girl, and she happily starts working with her crayons, while I get the laundry together.
I check on Bella, and she knows not to play with anything in the kitchen, so I head down to the laundry room, locking the apartment door behind me and putting the key in my pocket. I'm just getting the laundry soap poured in the washer and the load started when my phone rings, and I see that it's Martha.
“Oh, hi Martha, how's it going? You guys looked great on Ellen yesterday.”
Martha's voice is like cold water on my good mood when she replies. “You two fucked in the studio.”
I gulp, going back upstairs and back into the apartment, where Bella is still contentedly coloring her sheets, and for some strange reason I notice that she's using green. I go into the kitchen area, trying to keep my voice level. “Martha, I know that's probably not in the rule book, but we didn't mean to break any rules it just kind of wait... how did you know about that?”
“You're on the front page of the news!” Martha yells, making my blood run cold. “You mean you really don't know? Haven't you checked online today? Watched TV? Done anything?”
“I... I've been doing laundry,” I lamely reply, too shocked to say anything else. “But... how did this happen?”
“That's what I'd like to know,” Martha yells, then taking a deep breath. “Okay, okay. Listen, just tell me you had nothing to do with leaking this?”
“No! Of course not! I mean... there's no reason for me to do something like that!” I exclaim. “Martha, my daughter's in the room, so I gotta edit myself, but… well, what's been leaked?”
“Try about fifteen minutes of action that is already on the front search page of PornHub,” Martha replies. “It's edited, but you see plenty. You didn't know the studios had cameras?”
“They what?” I ask, again shocked. “Why would they be?”
“A punk band walked off with about ten grand in equipment one time about eight years ago,” Martha said. “Larry had every studio get security cameras in three corners. Whoever leaked it had access to all the feeds, it's... well, let's just say I now know about that little birthmark on the inside of your left thigh.”
“No, no, no, no...” I moan, and Bella looks up, worried. “Martha, I don't need this. I have a date with Rocky tomorrow night.”
“Yeah, about that,” Martha says, her voice unapologetic. “Listen, when Rocky found out, he told me about your date. While I understand why, I didn't tell him the reason I suspect it's at your house, there's no way I can advise you two getting together tomorrow. I talked with Rocky, and he said that maybe after the concert, but for now he can't take another scandal. I'm really sorry, Cora.”
“No... I guess I understand,” I reply, depression washing over me. “Listen, is Rocky available?”
“Sorry, but he's got an MTV interview, and then we've got to jump on a flight back to Los Angeles,” Martha says. “I can ask him to call you when he gets a chance though if that's okay?”
“Yeah... I guess. Thanks for the phone call, Martha. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” Martha says, and there's something in her voice that sounds almost vicious as she hangs up. I look at my phone for a moment, worry crossing my face, but before I can do anything Bella's tugging on my sleeve.
“Mommy, what's wrong?” she asks, and I look into her precious face, making up my mind.
“Nothing, honey. That was Rocky's manager, something's come up for tomorrow and he won't be able to make it. Maybe after his concert on Saturday or something though. How's that sound?” I ask, trying to be cheerful. Bella doesn't need to know that her mother is getting slut-shamed all over the Internet. Oh God, what am I going to do when she gets old enough to actually use the Internet? And... oh God, Mom and Dad.... oh hell...
“Mommy? Mommy?” Bella asks, and I shake my head, looking at her. “I said okay.”
“Okay, honey. In the meantime, tomorrow you and I can still go out and get something special for dinner. How's fried chicken sound?” I ask. “Or even better, how about that for tonight?”
“Can we get Krispy Bites?” Bella asks, referring to her favorite dish off the menu at the local fried chicken take-out place, a boneless chunk that isn't quite a nugget but can't be called a real piece either. They're just the right size for a three-year-old's hand though, and they're easy to chew.
“Sure, sweetie. As soon as the laundry's done, we'll go get some chicken,” I tell her. “In the meantime, show me what you've been coloring.”
The restaurant isn't one of the big chains, but it is popular in the neighborhood. Started back in the sixties by the father of the current owner, the look hasn't changed much since the nineties, and a lot of it is retro, looking more like it was put together in the fifties and sixties. It doesn't have a drive-through, but does do take out, which was our original plan. When we park though, I change my mind, and instead of doing take out I look inside, seeing an empty table. “What do you say we stay, honey? We can watch a movie on Mommy's computer when we get home.”
“Yay!” Bella cheers, smiling. The restaurant has little paper place mats that have coloring and other kids’ activities on them, and I'll admit to snatching one or two to bring home to Bella when I've stopped by and done take out before. It helps me smile too, and we get out of the car, heading for the front door. Inside, I see a few glances, but I'm pretty inconspicuous, I mean you can't throw a rock in Los Angeles without hitting a blond, and I took a moment to at least look at highlights of the scandal video, it's not so hi-def that I look unique.
Bella and I place our orders, and she's tracing her finger through the maze on the placemat when one of the men who's been glancing at me comes over, a leer on his face. “It's you, isn't it?”
“I'm sorry? I don't know you,” I reply, trying to get him to back off. Still, I'm a horrible liar, and I must be blushing because the man laughs.
“Yeah, I thought so. Phew, he rode you like a horse. Hey kid, your mom's famous, you know that?” he asks, and I smell the wave of alcohol off him. Sadly, there's a liquor shop in t
he strip mall next to the chicken restaurant, he must have gotten himself a forty before filling his gut.
“That's enough!” I growl, standing up. Sure, I'm barely over a buck twenty, but nobody talks that sort of trash in front of my daughter. “Back off, and leave us alone!”
Bella's getting scared, this guy is drunk and not backing down, but instead shoves me, grabbing his crotch. “Bet if I pulled this out you'd be on your knees in an instant,” he growls before turning to walk away. Looking back over his shoulder, he winks at Bella. “You should ask your Mom about how good Rocky Blake's cock was.”
I lunge at him, but he scampers out the door, and I lose my balance on something, maybe just my own shoelaces, sending me tumbling to my knees, shame flooding me even as pain lances up my right leg. I get up, looking around at the other patrons, all of whom are looking at us like we're in the zoo or something. “What the fuck are you looking at?”
“Mommy,” Bella says with a tiny voice, and I see that she's crying, afraid and upset about what just happened. She doesn't even know what a lot of the words the man used are, but she understands that I'm angry and that someone was being mean to me and to her. I take her by the hand and pull her into a hug as she starts to sob. The manager, who's finally reacting to the crap in the dining room, comes out, an apologetic look on his face.
“Miss... I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?”
I shake my head, anger still flashing through my blood. “No... just our feelings.”
“I understand,” the manager says, he does look sympathetic. “Uhm, I know I can't do much about that guy, but I'd like to comp you your order. Here or take out, however you'd like it.”
I nod and give him a grateful nod. Not everyone's a fucking jerk in this world yet, it seems. “Thanks. I think... maybe it'd be best to try and do take out. Thank you.”
“I'll bring it to your car, which one is yours?” he asks, going to the back after I give him the plate number. I take the still crying Bella out to the car, where she sobs in my arms while I comfort her. As I do, I feel my anger subside and the pain that's been threatening to break through all day start to come to the forefront. I try to blink back the tears, but it's no good, they burn my cheeks as they tumble down my cheeks and into Bella's hair.