Rocking Hard: Volume 1

by Sol Crafter, Diana Sheridan, Talya Andor, Lacie J. Archer, Angel Propps

  "Oh, yeah sure. That's fine." Jason's eyes flicked toward Marty. "I didn't know you two knew each other." There was curiosity in his tone, as though only politeness was keeping him from asking why they were hanging out.

  "We've been friends since high school," Marty said. "I've known him since before he was the cool rock star guy."

  Jim nudged his shoulder. "Hey, I thought I was always cool."

  Marty rolled his eyes at him. "You go ahead and think that."

  "You can't even let me have that, can you?" Jim asked, shaking his head in amusement. He turned to Jason. "I really like the show. It's one of the few things that I watch regularly."

  Jason chuckled. "That's great." He ducked his head then looked up with an "I can't believe I'm about to tell this joke" face on. "You should guest star on the show. We could have you be an alien or something and give you a couple of lines. The fans would go nuts."

  Jim was trying to think of a nice way to tell the guy "No" when Marty grabbed his arm and grinned at him. "You should totally do it. We could make it so much fun. It'll be like the old days, but you don't have to be all uptight and embarrassed about it."

  Jim looked into Marty's eyes and couldn't help nodding helplessly. "Okay."

  "What, really?" Jason was shocked, his eyes going wide for a long second. He quickly tried to pretend like he wasn't surprised. "Wow, that will be great. We could have you in an episode in a couple of weeks?" he asked tentatively, as though expecting Jim to start laughing wildly and proclaim that he was just joking.

  "Yeah, let me give you one my cards." Jim reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He unfolded the worn leather and searched until he found an only slightly creased business card. He rarely had to use them, but they were good to have just in case. "Here you go."

  Jason took the card and held it in his hand as though he was worried someone was going to snatch it away. "I'll call you and we can go over the details. You're not going to change your mind, are you?"

  "No way," Marty said, slinging an arm around Jim's shoulder. It was a battle not to cringe away from the prickly material of Marty's costume. "If I have to, I'll drag him here myself." He grinned at Jim. "We'll have so much fun."

  Staring right into Marty's face from what seemed like an inch away, Jim felt as though the air had been sucked out of his lungs for a long moment. All he could do was nod his head a little and try not to stare too long or too obviously into Marty's brown eyes.

  "This is going to be the greatest episode ever," Jason sounded more than pleased. "This is the kind of thing that could earn us a People's Choice Award."

  "I wouldn't go that far," Jim said, pulling away from Marty with some reluctance. It felt like his skin wanted to be glued against Marty's body. He thought he might have the scent of him soaked into every part of him that Marty had touched. "I've never acted before. I could be really terrible."

  "Don't worry about it. Worse case: We can work around bad acting," Jason assured. He grinned at Jim. "Having you in an episode is one of those things the other shows will be frothing at the mouth over. It's going to get us a lot of attention."

  Jim thought about it and shrugged. He knew that on the scale of celebrity he was far above a show like Centrifical, to such a degree that some people would think that it was beneath him. Those same people would probably think he was above Marty too.

  "Well, as long as you don't get pissed off about my terrible line readings." Jim shrugged. "I'll be ready when you call me."

  "I will."

  "Well, now that that's settled, let's get out of here." Marty tugged at his arm. He gave Jason an apologetic grin. "We've got dinner reservations and I don't want to be late."

  Jason nodded graciously. "No, that's cool man. Make sure you're back here bright and early tomorrow."

  Marty gave him a choppy salute. "Will do, boss!" His grip was firm as he pulled Jim away. They'd barely gotten out of earshot before he leaned close and whispered, "You can thank me later for getting you out of there."

  "What do you mean?" Jim asked.

  Marty gave him a quiet down gesture before quickly glancing back over his shoulder. "I don't know how he does it, but Jason always sounds like he's about to end the conversation, but then he just keeps starting it up again and again. When you don't flee at the first opportunity, you can end up being trapped for hours."

  "So you just run out on the poor guy?" Jim shook his head. "That's awful, man."

  "No way." Marty shook his head. "It's the only way to save yourself. Jason doesn't recognize rude, so he doesn't care. But he also doesn't recognize being polite either, so you could be nicely trying to make an exit and he'll still keep going until you want to stab your ear holes."

  Jim snorted. "Ear holes."

  Marty shoved him. "Seriously. I just saved your life. You owe me a beer."

  "Whatever." Jim couldn't help smiling though as they pushed through an outside door onto the sun filled lot. "What are we doing now?"

  Marty tugged at a strand of his wig. "I have to get out of costume, which means a visit to the makeup trailer."

  "You can't just wipe your nose off?" Jim asked.

  Marty huffed in disgust. "No. They use some crazy no-smear stuff that also doesn't just wash off. Anyway, they're worried I'm going to ruin the wig or something if they let me handle things by myself. So I am required to be in the trailer and they're the only ones that are allowed to remove it."

  "Do they know you've cosplayed before? Maybe they'd be cooler if they knew you had experience."

  "That doesn't matter." Marty had the grace to look embarrassed. "My first week on the job, I accidentally screwed up a $7500 costume."

  "Doing what?" Jim asked, horrified. He slid his eyes up and down the Korlaax outfit. "That doesn't look like it costs that much."

  "No," Marty said, "it wasn't my costume I screwed up. It was the first season and I was playing around with one of the alien costumes—a Fafernian, remember that episode?—and it kind of got ruined. I didn't know Jason had borrowed it from his friend off another project and that they totally needed it back. I ended up having to pay for the replacement that needed to be made. I was eating Top Ramen for months after that."

  Jim felt sorry for him, but he couldn't help laughing.

  "What, you're going to laugh at my pain?" Marty demanded, giving him an outraged glare.

  Jim bent forward with laughter, though he waved his hand to keep Marty from running off. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh, but that sounds like something you would do."

  "Duh, it is something I did. I was about a hundred percent sure I was going to be fired, except Jason was surprisingly cool about it."

  "Yeah, but you're completely the guy something like that would happen to." Jim managed to get himself under control and straightened up. "I guess I'm just glad you've never changed."

  Marty gave him a weird look. "Whatever. Come on." He strode off toward a small white trailer with a set of metal stairs attached to the tiny porch that was covered in that fake plastic golf grass that felt like tinsel. "You can wait for me outside while I change. There's barely enough room for me inside with all the crap they've got going on."

  "Yeah, okay." Jim followed his gestures and took up a post in front of the trailer. He crossed his arms and set himself to waiting.

  Centrifical might have been a show far beneath his level of fame and maybe Marty was below him too, but that didn't mean anything. He was going to have a great time guest starring on the cheesy show and he was going to enjoy hanging out with his best friend. And if that lost him some fans or whatever, he didn't give a damn.

  He half-closed his eyes and was just starting to feel bored when his phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw that it was Ned Keeley. "Hey, man, what's going on?"

  "Nothing much, just thought it would be a good idea to give you a call." Ned cleared his throat. "I heard some stuff about you today."

  "Oh yeah, what's that?" Jim asked.

  "I've been hearing
some rumors that you've been wandering around town by yourself." Ned audibly drew in a deep breath. "You can't be doing that. It's only a matter of time before word spreads that we've relocated here and people are going to realize that it really is you they're spotting."

  Even though there was no yelling involved, Jim felt the same kind of anxiety he'd experienced as a kid being lectured by his Grandma Pam. It was definitely not one of his favorite sensations. "I've been careful," he excused.

  "Being careful is fine, but you're too big a star to be wandering around alone." Ned sighed. "I've already made the arrangements and I hired you a guy. His name is Antonio Mancillas. He should be showing up at your place later today."

  "What? No, I …" Jim chewed on his lower lip. "I don't even get a say in who's going to be guarding me?"

  "You can make up your mind if you want to keep him or hire someone else," Ned said, "but you need someone with you as soon as possible. He comes highly recommended and he works for Diamond All Star Security, the same guys we used during the last tour."

  "Well, I guess that's not so bad," Jim offered begrudgingly. "Those guys were pretty good."

  "Pretty good? They were excellent. There's a reason they have a five star rating."

  "Yeah, I guess." Jim looked down at his feet, watching the way his shadow spread out from his body across the pavement.

  "Jim, buddy, you really need to be more careful. You're not just some guy in a garage band anymore. You're the lead singer for Blue-Eyed Suns. You are the big time. You're the guy teenagers the world over dream they could be. And there're some real assholes out there and it would really suck if something happened to you."

  "I know." Jim hated how worried Ned sounded, like he thought Jim was going to be stupid and get himself killed at any minute by some deranged fan. "I was liking being just a guy again. It was kind of nice walking around, pretending I was normal."

  "You are normal," Ned said seriously. "You just happen to be famous too. Antonio will be there later. Just keep him with you, listen to what he says, and try to be safe, okay?"

  "Okay," he said, unable to keep the sullen tone out of his voice.

  "Well, all right then," Ned said, mock-cheerfully. "I have to get back to work now, but we're going to lunch next week, right?"

  "Yeah. There's this one place I think you'll like. Just let me know what day you're coming and I'll make a reservation."

  Ned laughed. "You're Jim Sheppard. I don't think they'll turn you away from the door or anything."

  "But barging in is rude," Jim said.

  "God," Ned sounded amused, "don't ever change, okay buddy? Just stay the way you are and everything will be great."

  "Whatever." The door opened and Jim turned to see Marty come out of the makeup trailer, his face scrubbed clean and his hair still standing up in tufts from the wig. "I've gotta go. Call me later, all right?"

  "Sure thing," Ned said. "And just don't scare your new bodyguard away. We still have to pay him even if you run him off early."

  "Okay, okay," Jim said impatiently, giving Marty a smile. "Bye."

  "Bye."

  "What was that about?" Marty asked, bouncing down the rattily metal steps. He was wearing regular clothes now and had a black messenger bag slung over one shoulder.

  "Just Ned giving me the biz." Jim shrugged. "You ready to get out of here?"

  "Of course," Marty said, smiling brightly. "And by the way, I can't believe you agreed to do the show."

  "You asked me," Jim said, like that was enough.

  Marty slanted him a surprised glance and then turned his face away to hide a pleased smile that Jim still managed to see. "Let's go eat."

  "Sure."

  Jim got home that evening to find a strange van parked in his driveway and he had to fight off the unpleasant sense he got of being closed-in.

  He parked next to the van and got out of his car. "Hello?" He looked at the big guy who was climbing out of the driver's seat of the van and couldn't help being somewhat impressed. Just in size and general demeanor alone, he definitely didn't look like someone to mess with.

  "Hello, Mr. Sheppard, I'm Antonio Mancillas. Ned Keeley sent me." He had rich caramel colored skin and even in a suit he looked like he was an inch away from ripping someone's arm off and beating them with it. There were so many muscles pressing against the fabric of his shirt and pants that Jim felt a little nervous as he held out his hand.

  "Hi. Nice to meet you. Sorry I wasn't here when you arrived, but Ned didn't give me an exact time and I already had plans for the day." Jim gestured the guy toward the front door. "Let's go inside to talk. You might not be able to see them, but my neighbors are probably watching us right now with binoculars.

  "Sure." The sun glinted off the glossy black of Antonio's hair and beard. Just looking at him, Jim had the sense that he had seen him before, though he figured that he probably had if he worked for Diamond All Star. And that outfit really was very good, so he didn't have to worry.

  If he was going to be stuck with a bodyguard, he figured he might as well have the best. Especially if it would make Ned happy and not quite so neurotic.

  *~*~*

  It was weird to have Jim on the set, not because he didn't fit, but that he kind of did. There was just something about having him around that made days on the set not seem like work at all. They probably had too much fun, but Marty didn't care.

  Having Antonio always around had been awkward at first, but Jim just treated him like another friend, so Marty didn't have to feel like they had someone lurking around watching them. And it wasn't like he got in the way or anything; it was mostly the thought that people out there might decide to hurt Jim just for the fame of being able to brag to other crazies. Antonio was a physical reminder that Jim wasn't just his friend, but someone really and truly famous.

  Marty had gotten used to giving autographs and he'd started to get used to the idea that strangers on the street would scream out his name and act like they knew him, but there was no way he was even close to the same level as Jim. There was fame and there was famous, and Jim was famous.

  So he could kind of understand where the rest of the cast was coming from when they showed surprise at how easy Jim was to get along with and how goofy he could be. Though he kind of got mad too and wanted to yell at them that Jim wasn't just the singer from the Blue-Eyed Suns, but a guy too. Why shouldn't he be able to be himself and not just the front man who most people ever saw?

  His friend Jane Jameson laid it out for him the second day Jim was on set. She worked as one of the senior costumers and he'd struck up a quick friendship the minute they first met. He’d validated his geek cred by showing his own skills at putting a costume together. She'd been suitably impressed and they'd gone on from there.

  Looking him right in the face, she explained, "He's Jim Sheppard. Sure he's been your friend for years and everything, but he's Jim-fucking-Sheppard!"

  Marty raised an eyebrow. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

  Jane shook her head, her hands still busily sewing up a tear in one of the costumes. "It means that you're his friend and you don't really see him the way the rest of the world does. You've known the dude since high school and he doesn't act the same way around you."

  "What do you mean? He's always seemed the same as usual to me," Marty said. He tried to think if he'd caught Jim being rude to anyone or anything like that, but Jim had been as nice and easygoing as always.

  She rolled her eyes. "He relaxes his guard a lot when you're here and jokes around more. When you're not around, he's not as accessible." She reached forward to grab her small pink-handled scissors and nipped a thread. "He's still amazingly nice for someone that famous, but he's definitely different with you."

  "Huh." Marty was sitting on a three-legged stool next to her workbench in the costume shed. Jane did the costume work for five shows, so there were always people coming in and out, but they still had time to relax and hold a conversation. It was one of the main reasons she loved her
job: The fact that she had the time to meet new people and socialize. Otherwise, she had the skills to have gotten a high-paying job doing custom orders.

  "You probably never see it because he always lights up when you're around." Jane folded up the top she'd finished and set it down on the workbench before stretching her arms over her head. She ruffled her golden blond hair with a sigh of relief. "It makes me kind of jealous, the way he looks at you. Then again," she pinched her stomach, "I wouldn't have a chance with him anyway."

  "Oh shut up, you're gorgeous and you know it," he said.

  "And that's why I'm totally your hag." She grinned so cheekily that he had to laugh. It was true that she wasn't exactly beautiful—the way her face was put together was more quirky than cute—but she had a personality that definitely showed through. "You don't even care that I have to lose ten pounds."

  "No you don't," Marty argued, "you're fine just the way you are. There're some guys that really like a girl with some meat on her bones and you're definitely not fat."

  "Whatever." She rolled her shoulders. "Back to Jim … I'm sorry I ever doubted that you really knew him."

  "What?"

  "Oh, come on," Jane gave him a look, "it seemed really far-fetched that you would be best buds with someone like Jim Sheppard. I believed that you had met him, but I kind of doubted that you were actual friends. Then he shows up and you're even more than that."

  For some reason, Marty felt a nervous flutter go through his stomach. "What do you mean?"

  "You guys are like soul mates or something. Nerds of a feather. I don't know." She threw her hands up. "You guys are like two halves of a nerd sandwich, it just happens that his half is super-hot and rich and talented."

  "You don't think that I'm super-hot and talented?" Marty tried to sound hurt.

  "Please. You might be good at your job, but he's Jim-fucking-Sheppard." She patted him on the shoulder companionably. "I'm sorry to say that there's nothing to compare."

  "Why do I get the feeling that that's going to be your new catch phrase?" he asked.