Epic (Fierce)

by Voight, Ginger

  This pixie powerhouse was covered in tattoos she wasn’t afraid to show off with short crop tops and fashionable short shorts. A fiery phoenix rose on her slender torso along her side and around to her chest. She wore a tiny hoop in her nose and another on her eyebrow, and her makeup was as punk as her dark, spiky hair that sported royal blue highlights.

  “So what do you think?” Roxy asked as she turned to me with a big smile.

  “It’s great,” I said immediately. “What kind of actors are you auditioning?”

  She gave me a queer look, as if my question took her completely off guard. “None. You’ll act out your song. And Griffin can be the romantic interest.”

  My stomach dropped. “Are you kidding?”

  She laughed. “It’s your brand, who better to represent it than you?”

  I shook my head. “I’m no actress,” I clarified, albeit unnecessarily. “I think this song would be better suited if you hired someone else to play the seductress.” They could keep Griffin, but if I tried to act out what I could barely even record in his presence, the whole endeavor would sink.

  “Graham wanted to feature you and Griffin predominately,” she insisted. “I ran the idea past him and he loved it.”

  “He would,” I said before I could stop myself. “He’s not going to have to pretend to be some sex kitten. I’m going to look ridiculous. Seriously, this is not who I am.”

  She gave me a knowing smile. “I think it’s exactly who you are. And it’s definitely who you should be. You’re a game-changer, Jordi. You’re alternative, and that’s a strong voice for the disenfranchised. Owning your sex appeal isn’t just about selling a song for you. It’s about stepping into your full power as a woman. The whole world tells you that you can’t be sexy. It’s time you prove ‘em wrong. I can help you do that. I want to help you do that. That’s why I took the project. I just need you to trust me.”

  I was still on the fence by the time I left the meeting. The stylist she hired for the video showed me the wardrobe and makeup ideas she had for a boudoir shot, and the more either of them said the more uncomfortable I got. The negligee was silky and allowed for precious little support garments underneath. It had spaghetti straps, which I knew would highlight my flabby arms, and neither Roxy nor her stylist Amelie would agree to a robe unless it was sheer. In fact they wanted to show more skin, not less.

  By the time Griffin and his assistant Emma showed up, I was ready to run for the door. He had no qualms about stripping down to a pair of torn, unfastened jeans for the shoot, but then again his lithe body only had about ten percent body fat. He had been known to strip down completely nude for charity. This was a person completely comfortable inside his own skin.

  I was not that person. Worse, I could hardly voice those concerns in front of Griffin and his equally attractive assistant.

  Emma Frost was petite, much like Roxy, with chestnut hair she wore long, complete with bangs that nearly fell over her big brown eyes. Her glasses, much like Roxy’s, were dark-rimmed, but Emma was more hipster than Goth/punk/alternative. She wore a mod dress with white thigh-high stockings and shiny, patent-leather Mary Janes.

  I wanted to suggest that she play the part of the sex kitten since she was considerably more conventionally attractive than I could ever hope to be. But I found myself unable to say anything at all, either yay or nay, as Roxy walked us through the storyboard she had created for the shoot.

  I would be alone, on my bed, pining for a lover to seduce. I’d writhe on my back and on my tummy as I “made love” to the camera, until my rock star lover appeared in my bed, half-naked and fully vulnerable to my many charms.

  “Here he takes you into his arms and you let a kiss hang between you,” Roxy said. “Lots of tension. Sizzling hot.”

  By the time I left the apartment and headed back to Corey’s loft, I was ready to pack up and fly right back to Los Angeles. We could do the shoot there, with Jace as my love interest. It took an emergency phone call to Jace, and Graham, and Iris, to talk me down from the ledge. All three of them said the same thing: it’s just a video.

  “But they want me to be romantic with another man,” I said to Jace, who laughed softly.

  “Should I be worried?” he asked.

  “Of course not. You know I love you.”

  “So what’s the problem?” he probed gently.

  “This isn’t who I am,” I reiterated.

  “Says who?” he wanted to know. “I think you’re the sexiest woman on the planet. I can’t wait to see the video so we can prove that to the rest of the world.”

  “The rest of the world is filled with people like Eddie and Pilar and Shane, Miles O’Rourke and PING. They’re going to have a field day after they see this stupid thing.”

  “Babe, they’re going to hate anything you do. You can’t live your life for their standards. They don’t give a shit about you. So do what is best for Jordi. Roxy Malone is a legend. There isn’t one performer who has worked with her that hasn’t hit the top of the charts or won awards for their groundbreaking videos. It’s entirely possible this video will break so much ground they’ll be talking about it for decades.”

  The very thought made my stomach plummet. “That’s the double-edged sword, isn’t it? The more people know about me, the more exposed I am to their rejection.”

  “Spoken like a true star,” he said. “But you’re my star. And I love you.”

  I smiled. He always knew what to say. He was my rock, as always.

  So I didn’t run away, even though every cell within my body screamed at me to do just that. When Roxy texted me that next day to confirm the shoot that Friday night, I only hesitated a minute before I wrote back, “I’ll be there.”

  Then I put the phone down on the nightstand, walked into my private bathroom and promptly threw up.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  New York City, NY

  June 29, 2012

  I had plenty to keep me preoccupied until the Friday night shoot scheduled at eight o’clock. The new Tempestuous store opened at ten that morning, so I was booked with public appearances through the afternoon. Because they had crafted an entire line for me, I was enlisted to model the new outfits at the heart of their new advertising campaign. I was shuttled around to the offices of at least four fashion magazines after I clipped the ribbon and signed autographs at the store. I ate an early dinner with Iris, who introduced me to one of her dear friends, Jacob Corey.

  Jacob, as I learned, was the executive assistant for Jasper Carrington. Though I knew I shouldn’t, I couldn’t help prying for information on Shelby. From what I had seen via PING, I really worried how close Eddie was getting to her. Last I knew she was emotionally vulnerable to controlling men like her father, and I knew Eddie, with his anger issues and his alcohol abuse, was more than just a broken heart waiting to happen. He could cause her physical harm. I said as much to Jacob. Iris, who was the first to notice the bruises and bring it to Vanni’s attention, echoed my concerns.

  I repeated the whole sordid tale to him, finally admitting to Iris about the video tape he still held as ammunition against both Jace and me. “So you see what kind of a bind we’re in. If we show her the video tape of Eddie confessing all his plans, he no longer has any reason to keep that sex tape under wraps. It’d devastate both our careers.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Jacob said. “They say there’s no such thing as bad publicity. It would definitely keep you in the headlines.”

  I shook my head. “If that tape releases, my career is over. PING and their ilk are chomping at the bit to find any reason at all to crucify me. I’m not some sexpot celebrity hordes of men already stalk via the Internet. A sex tape with someone like me would land me in the headlines for all the wrong reasons. It would turn off potential fans and essentially make me and everyone associated with me into a laughing stock. I’d lose all the credibility I’ve fought so hard to establish. And how would that help me sell the new video, or the song for the movie, or the
voiceover work for a kids’ movie?”

  Jacob and Iris shared a look. Finally Jacob said, “I think you’re overstating the significance of a sex tape scandal. Yes, it would suck for a while. But you definitely have the talent to come back from it. Besides, I think it would be brave as hell for you to tackle it now as you are establishing yourself. Talk about being fierce! That would be flouting convention at its very best.”

  I laughed. “Talk to me after this infernal video shoot.”

  Iris patted my hand. “You’re going to be great. You just have to keep telling yourself it’s OK to be sexy.”

  If either of them noticed the subtle shudder that ran through my body at the thought, they mercifully didn’t point it out. Neither one of them understood that baring that side of myself had little to do with my shitty self-image. Sure, I was worried about the extra bulges and the double chin and the flappy, saggy skin. But what worried me more wasn’t the score of men who would be turned off by what they saw. I was used to that. Hell, I often welcomed it.

  What scared me the most? Attracting the few who liked it so much they would inevitably want more than what I wanted to give. To know they were out there, looking at photos without my consent, using me to get their jollies as if I didn’t warrant a say in the process, was eerily familiar and discomforting.

  These feelings went into overdrive as Amelie dressed me. She helped me into the beige, strapless bodysuit under the silky negligee, but it did precious little to make me feel anymore dressed. Instead I felt like a sausage bound up in half a casing.

  I fought every urge to cover myself after she slipped the silky material over my shoulders. When she draped the cape across my chest to apply my makeup, I clutched it to my chest like a suit of armor. It didn’t help when Emma and Griffin showed up. He had no problem stripping down to the tight pair of jeans he was required to wear for the shoot. I was more covered than he was. Turned out Roxy had done this on purpose. She took issue with how the music industry displayed women like sexy, pretty accessories for fully dressed men, subtly indicating that the person who was fully dressed was in a position of power. She wanted to even the playing field. And she decided to do that with my video.

  It was a statement about female sexuality, not just in the music industry but society as a whole.

  Griffin didn’t seem to mind. He was a notorious ladies’ man but seemed willing to do double duty as a shameless loverboy.

  I, on the other hand, felt totally ridiculous as I walked into the purple bedroom where all the cameras and lights were set up for the shoot. I almost wished that Felix Soto, Dreaming in Blue’s most medicated drummer, was there to give me one of his magical cookies.

  As it was, I had to grit my teeth and muscle through it with no intoxicants whatsoever. This turned out being a good thing, considering the clinical nature of the shoot. I had envisioned how it would go throughout the days leading up to shoot. I listened to my song, running the scenario over and over in my head, as some sort of awkward seduction that would rise to a painful crescendo before it blissfully ended. The video, instead, was shot out of sequence with two or three takes of each shot. They kept retouching my makeup and my hair, in between, which made it even harder to establish the kind of character she wanted me to portray.

  Not to mention it was downright impossible to get sexy while Griffin was watching me from where he sat, cross-legged, on the floor. I was literally on the spot as I tried to forget about all the people and the cameras and just get lost in the song.

  Roxy had to start over more than once. Finally she walked over to where I stood to lean in towards me for a more private conversation. “Is there a problem, Jordi?”

  My voice was defeated. “I told you. This isn’t me.”

  “I don’t believe that,” she said. “This is a part of who you are. I hear it in your voice. And I know there are a lot of voices out there trying to tell you that there’s something wrong with you. They’re full of shit. The reason you are where you are is because you have something other people want. You make people pay attention. Own that power. It’s something special.”

  I glanced over to Griffin, who was leaning close to Emma as they chatted privately. Any straight girl in her right mind would have no problem sexing up the hot Aussie rocker, yet I was hopelessly inept… mostly because I knew it was all a ruse. Almost everything he had done up until this point was, in some form or fashion, a rejection, so it was all I could really expect from him. Knowing that I could no more seduce someone like Griffin than lasso the moon prevented me from fully letting go. I already played that game in Oswen when I was chasing after Eddie, when I had ignored these signs and pursued him beyond the subtle rejection that came hand-in-hand with being a backseat booty call. Worse, when I got what I wanted, by being wanted, I had paid a heavy price for his change of heart. It was all a lie then. And it was all a lie now.

  Roxy consulted briefly with Griffin, and then announced that the “sex” shots were next. I couldn’t even feel my legs as I walked over to the bed, where he sprawled out effortlessly. Woodenly I sat down next to him as Roxy directed us. “OK, Griffin. You think she is the sexiest woman alive. You can’t believe that you are here with her in this bed, in her arms. It is every fantasy realized.”

  He nodded as his arm slid around my shoulder. Roxy turned to me. “Jordi, he’s the hottest guy you’ve ever met. You’ve been dreaming of this moment for months, to get him alone, to feel his body next to yours. Give me that heat of delicious anticipation.”

  I think I nodded but it was hard to know for sure as Griffin pulled me down on the bed next to him. He was so close I could smell the cologne from his bare skin. I gulped as his finger trailed up my arm and around my neck to tangle his fingers in my hair. My eyes locked on his mouth. I tried my hardest to remember the first time I was with Jace, and how liberated I felt when he looked at me and held me and touched me. In Griffin’s eyes, however, I saw every thin girl he had lusted over – for real – from the time I first walked into the studio. Was he disgusted to be holding my generous curves in arms conditioned to fit smaller, prettier women close to his sinewy body? Was this just one more thing to endure? Did he regret ever agreeing to work with me, now that I had come with all these uncomfortable complications?

  I couldn’t bear to look into those dark brown eyes to answer those questions. Instead I looked at that supple mouth, one that had no doubt brought pleasure to many women before me, and in much more authentic circumstances.

  He bent to nuzzle my neck and the shock of his warm breath against my ear made me gasp. “Relax, love,” he whispered. “Let yourself go with it.”

  My eyes fluttered closed. The second they did, I saw Shane hovering over me, issuing the same commands almost verbatim. For a second I couldn’t even breathe. I forgot about the cameras, Roxy, Griffin and the video. Instead I was a six-year-old girl in the arms of a predator. My eyes snapped open as I stifled a scream. I scrambled away from Griffin and bolted from that purple bedroom out onto the balcony for some fresh air.

  Griffin found me there a few minutes later. “Jordi,” he called uncertainly as he stepped through the French doors. “Are you OK?”

  I nodded, though I couldn’t look him in the eye. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

  He joined me at the railing. “If I crossed a line back there…”

  I shook my head. “No. You were great. The problem is with me, Griffin. I knew this was a bad idea.”

  “It’s actually a killer idea,” Griffin corrected. “This video is going to raise eyebrows and piss people off and make people think. It’ll do what good art is supposed to do.”

  “Perhaps it would be better served with the right professionals, then. I’m no actress.”

  He chuckled. “Bullshit. You can’t be in this business and not be an actor in some way. You have to smile pretty for the cameras when you feel like shit. You have to go out on stage, show after show, even when the last thing you feel like doing is perform.” His eyes met mine. “You
have to walk past all those parasitic paparazzi without kicking them right in the balls like they deserve.”

  I laughed. “True.”

  “We lose our humanity in a lot of ways,” he said as he stared out over the city. “You can’t have an opinion or make a mistake. The whole world is watching, but they are picky about what they want to see. But that’s not your problem, love.”

  I smiled. “You’re like the fifth person to tell me that in a week.”

  “Then when are you going to listen?” he asked.

  “It’s not a matter of listening, Griffin. I hear what you’re saying. I know it’s true. I just don’t know how to change the way I feel.”

  He straightened and held out a hand. “Do those things they tell you that you can’t do. Then, and only then, will you see how full of shit all the naysayers really are.”

  I gulped back any refusal and put my hand in his. As I started to walk back into the penthouse, however, he pulled me back and right into his arms. I was reminded in an instant that he was half-naked and I was in a thin nightgown. My voice was panicked as I croaked, “What are you doing?”

  “Dancing,” he said against my ear as he pulled me tight against his body.

  “Why?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Because I’m a lonely musician in love with a pop star diva, and this is my first chance to get her alone,” he explained softly as we swayed together. “I want to feel her in my arms. I want to connect with her at last.” He pulled back to look down into my face. “Tell me what that diva wants.”

  “She wants…” I started, but the words wouldn’t come any further than my locked throat. I gulped.

  “Tell me, Jordi,” he urged softly. “You finally have the man of your dreams in your arms. What are you going to do?”

  I shook my head. “Griffin…”

  “Nothing is off limits,” he continued softly. “No restrictions. No rejection.” He tipped my chin up with his finger. “No apologies.”