by Victoria Fox
When she arrived, the club was hammering a dirty, sexy stream of beats, and was packed with grinding bodies. Robin was taken through a concealed entrance towards an alcove. Kiss-Kiss had been built on the relics of an old church. From vaulted ceilings dripped bruised candelabra, huge colour-stained windows depicted rock gods old and new, while a glittering altar boasted a fearsome set of decks from which bled the new religion: music.
Robin spotted Polly’s beehive right away and her friends Sammy and Belle. It had been difficult to form bonds with people in her old life, moved as she was from place to place, and it was only when she’d quit the system and gone it alone that she had been able to make her own choices. That had brought with it a whole heap of struggle but at least it had been a struggle she’d had a say in—and through it she’d met Sammy and Belle, people who knew her before all this took off. Sammy had been the one who had encouraged her to audition for The Launch in the first place.
‘Check out the bar,’ said Belle as she sat down. They already had a rainbow of free drinks on the go and Robin helped herself. ‘We’re in for a treat.’
‘What is it?’
‘Jax Jackson and Leon Sway.’
She couldn’t believe it. ‘You have to be kidding me.’
The last thing she wanted was to encounter that self-righteous idiot, and enduring the attentions of Jax Jackson wasn’t far behind. Jax might be an Olympian but he didn’t do it for her: he was a notorious womaniser and by all accounts a chauvinist. The fact he had the Hugh Hefner bunny tattooed on his bicep along with the strapline Come and Play said it all, really.
‘I thought those guys were sworn enemies,’ Robin observed. Leon was silver to Jax’s gold: the men were archrivals, on the track and off. Word was they couldn’t stand each other.
‘Maybe they called a truce,’ suggested Sammy.
Polly scoffed. ‘Gimme a break: you should see how much coverage they get in the States. It’s insane. They’re, like, hotter than Hollywood. For the first time Jax has got some stiff competition. Testosterone, girls: he’s freaking about the guy on his tail—’
‘Stiff competition? A guy on his tail?’ Robin prompted the others to giggle. ‘Now there’s a story I’d be interested in.’
‘Jax’d sooner die,’ commented Belle wryly. ‘Talk about macho alpha bollocks.’
The same went for Leon, evidently. Robin was filled with fury remembering his indiscretion. She tried to see through the wall of people. A cluster parted just long enough to award her a view of Leon on the periphery of the group. He was wearing a grey T-shirt beneath which she could detect the lines of his muscle, the hard strength of his stomach and the clean, swift strokes of his arms. His green eyes caught the light.
‘Pretty, isn’t he?’ said Belle.
‘If you like egotistical, tactless dickheads.’
Sammy grabbed her. ‘Let’s go say hello.’
‘Uh-uh, no way.’ Robin kicked back. It was tempting to stride over and explain to Leon exactly what she thought of him, but she refused to give him the satisfaction.
Jax Jackson came into view, making a chump of himself as a Nicki Minaj track came on and drunkenly he toasted the air. Jax was a couple of inches shorter than Leon and more hulking. Not that she was making the comparison.
‘Why not?’ Polly teased. ‘Jax has already made it clear he’s a fan…’
‘He bought us a drink,’ she said, recalling his come-on at the Hideaway. ‘Big deal.’
‘Bet you’ll go over when you see who they’re with.’
‘Who?’
‘Puff City.’
Robin baulked. ‘No way.’
‘Yes way. Go ahead, check it out.’
Sure enough, at the bar with Jax was the inimitable Slink Bullion. He was wearing a baggy white sweater and reams of gold jewellery. The Puff City crew skulked behind. Robin recognised Principal 7, the esteemed white rapper filling Eminem’s shoes, and G-Money, who was cool in a preppy way and whose real name was Gordon or something.
Downing another shot, she stood and closed the gap between them.
‘Hi.’ She interrupted the exchange. Jax was momentarily irritated by the disruption before succumbing to a smile. Annoyingly Slink was dragged off by his girlfriend.
‘Hey, lady, it’s you.’
‘Yeah, it’s me. And it’s not lady, it’s Robin.’
‘Kinda thought you blew me off the other night, Robin.’
Jax towered over her. His frame was extraordinary, huge and light and built for speed. He was smirking in the way of a man who imagined every female to want to fall in a faint at his feet. She scouted for the rest of Puff City but they’d melted away.
‘I didn’t know the drinks came on condition,’ Robin retaliated.
‘They didn’t. But here’s another chance to give me your number.’
‘Thanks, that’s sweet.’
‘We’ve been hearin’ a lot about you.’ Jax grinned. ‘Seems like you’re the place to be right now, a hot little hotel in paradise. I wouldn’t mind a trip there myself.’
‘That’s disgusting.’
He held his hands up. ‘Just sayin’. And you should know I don’t mind a challenge. Hell, I like it. It don’t happen often but when it does, I’m there like a bitch in heat.’
‘I’m feeling better by the second.’
‘Back off, Jax, she’s not interested.’
Robin turned to find herself face to face with Leon Sway. The surprise of him at such close range tied her tongue in a knot. Before she could slam her brain into gear, Jax said:
‘What’s it t’do with you?’
‘You’re drunk. Step away.’
‘Nah, you step away.’ Jax pushed him. His fists on Leon’s chest elicited a thump, rock on rock. Leon squared up to him, spoiling for a fight.
So now he was playing the hero? If she weren’t so livid she’d have laughed.
‘Get used to it, man,’ taunted Jax. ‘You’re a second-rate citizen around here.’
‘Funny, I thought I almost beat you.’
‘In your dreams, punk—that ain’t never gonna happen. You hear me? Never.’
‘You keep telling yourself that.’
‘Don’t need to. Facts speak for themselves.’ Jax shoved him again. Leon returned it, harder. Jax lost his footing and flailed embarrassingly against the bar. Disgraced, he took a wild swing at his rival, swiping at air as Leon evaded the impact and delivered in return a clean punch on the jaw. Jax fell backwards into his assistant’s arms.
The assistant stooped to gather his ward, securing Jax under the armpits. Jax staggered upright and shrugged himself free, mouth curled, jabbing a finger in Leon’s direction. ‘I’ve got your number, asshole,’ he hissed, trembling with fury. ‘I’m comin’ for you. Know your place. The man Jackson don’t forget, you got that?’
Leon looked blank. ‘I’m terrified.’
‘You should be.’
‘Good of you to intervene,’ snapped Robin when Jax had been steered away, ‘but I was handling that myself.’
Leon drank from his bottle of beer. ‘Thought you could use a little help, that’s all.’
‘I don’t need your help.’
‘Then should I get you a drink?’
She laughed. ‘Good one.’
‘What’s funny?’
‘What’s funny,’ she explained, ‘is that your messed-up idea of a pick-up is running my name into the ground in front of the entire nation—on prime-time TV.’
He held his hands up. ‘I’m sorry about that. Really. I was just messing.’
‘Just messing?’ She couldn’t believe his audacity. ‘D’you know how much stick I got? And out of interest, what the hell has it got to do with you who I hook up with?’
Leon grinned. ‘I didn’t exactly ask to walk in on you…’
Embarrassment soaked her. ‘Yeah, well, try knocking next time.’
‘Sorry. I know I should have left it. It’s just it was kind of irresistible.’ There was tha
t maddening smile again. ‘You’re kind of irresistible.’
She was momentarily thrown. ‘I bet you reckon anyone can jump on, right?’ she blustered. ‘Well if you think I’m going anywhere near you, you are seriously mistaken.’
Leon regarded her, amused by some hidden joke, in a way that might have been sexy were he not such a categorical prick. Leon Sway had one of those textbook-perfect faces, the nose straight, the green eyes sparkling; white teeth and smooth skin, the right angle square-sharp where his jaw met his neck. Clean-looking. Way too conventional and boring for her.
‘OK,’ he said eventually, ‘can we start again?’
‘Start what again?’
‘Whatever this is that’s going so spectacularly wrong.’
‘Let me give you a clue. This? It’s nothing. It’s less than nothing.’
‘Hey, cut me some slack. I haven’t had a lot of practice with this fame stuff.’
‘Really? Aren’t you meant to be Sexiest Man in the World or some such bollocks?’
As soon as Robin said it she regretted it. Leon had been awarded the title in a women’s magazine. Bringing it up made her sound as if she had a schoolgirl crush, which she most definitely and emphatically did not.
‘I’ll go for “some such bollocks”,’ he replied. ‘If you get over your problem with me.’
‘I don’t have a problem.’
‘You do, because everything I say you’re hating on. Why’re you so defensive?’
‘Don’t presume to know anything whatsoever about me.’
‘I might make less mistakes if you gave me an easier time.’
‘I’m not easy.’
‘I never said you were.’
‘You might as well have done.’
A muscle twitched by his eye. ‘Let me take you to dinner.’
‘Dream on.’
‘I’m not kidding. I want to make it up to you.’
Robin sighed. With his rumpled T-shirt and steady grin and boyish bravado, Leon was the kind of person she would never in a thousand years be able to relate to. He was probably from some over-achieving American family who baked cookies and sat around a campfire singing and played tennis on a private lawn in summer. He was rich, clearly, and her guess was he always had been. That upbringing, the kind of anchor she herself had always yearned for, was exactly why he was able to make her feel so small.
‘Don’t bother,’ she threw back, moving to go.
‘Look,’ Leon said, less patiently, ‘I’m trying, OK? I’m only being friendly here.’
‘Make friends with someone else,’ she said, and turned and walked away.
5
Kristin loved kissing her boyfriend. Scotty Valentine’s lips were pink as candyfloss and just as sweet, his tongue soft and hesitant as it explored her mouth. She could spend hours simply kissing, running her fingers through his caramel hair and staring into his Pacific Ocean eyes.
They were in her bedroom, making out to a Turquoise ballad. Kristin took Scotty’s hand and guided it to her breast—he never instigated it, he was too gentlemanly—and lifted to meet his touch. She peeled off her T-shirt and the lacy sweetheart bra beneath. Scotty had only seen her topless once before and looked as uncomfortable now as he had the first time.
‘It’s OK,’ she murmured, reaching into his jeans. ‘My mom’s out…’
Dutifully Scotty tended to her nipples, nuzzling and licking till she started to sigh, then he dropped a chain of kisses across her stomach and in doing so reversed his crotch out of reach. She drew his head back up to hers, looping one arm round his neck and the other between his legs. Nothing. That was why, then. She inhaled his scent. It didn’t matter.
‘Sorry,’ Scotty mumbled, sitting up. ‘Don’t know what’s wrong.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Kristin, covering herself because she still felt shy around him. She hoped it was fine. Last time Scotty had been unable to get a hard-on and while he assured her it had nothing to do with her and he thought she was gorgeous, it couldn’t help but sting.
‘Just tired,’ he informed her, zipping his flies.
‘We don’t have to have sex,’ she ventured. ‘I could, you know…’
‘What?’
‘Help you along?’ she muttered uncertainly. ‘And then…?’
He looked at her as if she’d just suggested defecating on the carpet.
‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Have I done something wrong?’ Awkwardly she fumbled into her T-shirt.
Scotty grimaced. ‘I feel like I’m being hassled all the damn time,’ he complained, ‘for sex. You want it every day! I’m not a machine, Kristin.’
She was confused. ‘But we haven’t even got that far…’
‘Don’t you think maybe if I could relax a little more I might find it easier?’
‘I’m sorry,’ she stumbled. ‘I thought you were relaxed.’
He pouted. ‘Having my nuts attacked every waking hour isn’t my idea of relaxation.’
She wondered if he found it weird, the whole ex-best-friends thing. She should try to be more sensitive. ‘OK. Let’s just chill, then. You don’t have to leave.’
‘I do,’ he said dejectedly, ‘I need some me time. Everyone wants a piece of Scotty Valentine, don’t they? Why can’t people just leave me alone?’
Kristin swallowed her dismay. It was the pressures of his work. Fraternity had been gigging flat out and Scotty was exhausted. So what if she was desperate to consummate their affair? Love was patience. Fifteen years they had known each other; what was a little longer?
‘D’you know what it’s like living my life?’ he bewailed. ‘All the expectation, it’s bringing me down. How am I supposed to meet it?’
‘You’re not.’ She touched his face, turning it towards her. He’d gone salmon-pink. Kristin understood he was ashamed and it was self-defence that made him lash out. When would he realise he didn’t need to pretend with her? She worshipped him no matter what; without the band, without the ten million Twitter followers, just Scotty, the boy she adored.
Tentatively she kissed him. Slowly but surely he started to return it, leaning her back on the bed with a refreshed energy. Abruptly he flipped her round so she was on her stomach, and fiercely tugged down her knickers. For several seconds Scotty kneaded her ass, the breath catching in his throat, before, with a blinding sense of relief, Kristin felt his erection charging against her, prodding for entry. She parted to receive him, telling herself to stop because he needed to use a condom, but before she could speak she realised he was going for something different. Too tight, too sore, giving way to a splinter of disabling pain. She gasped in shock.
‘Wait,’ she breathed, attempting to pull free and turn on her back. It was a tricky manoeuvre but with some fumbling she managed to hook her legs round his waist and guide him in…but the throb in his jeans had totally evaporated. Totally. Scotty collapsed on to her, deflated, and she stared at the ceiling, eyes wet with tears, tracing circles on his back.
‘I’ll call you later,’ he mumbled eventually, getting up and grabbing his things. Bewildered, Kristin hugged her knees to her chest.
‘Scott,’ she tried, ‘we can talk about this…’
But he was gone before she could say goodbye.
At lunch, unable to ease her mind, Kristin took a swim in the mansion pool. Was it such a big deal? she wondered as she ploughed through her twentieth length. Scotty wanted to give it to her another way. That way had got him hard. Plenty of girls did it. Just because she hadn’t, it didn’t make it wrong. If that was Scotty’s thing then perhaps she should give it a go…
Lemon sun bounced off the patio, hot and sweet, blazing down from a flawless blue sky and reflecting off the glinting rock lagoon and sharp green lawns. When Kristin had started raking in the big bucks, her mother Ramona had wasted no time in securing them a prime piece of real estate. The imposing mansion (referred to as The White House) was enormous, comprising fifteen bedrooms, twelve of which were never used, a rooftop
gym and home movie theatre. Out front, Corinthian pillars bragged the remarkable entrance. Inside, photographs of Ramona as a young fashion model adorned the walls.
Kristin was desperate to move out. She wanted to live with Scotty, like a proper couple, and get engaged and get married and have kids. But she had made a promise to herself that she would stay until her little sister turned sixteen. United, she and Bunny were an allied force against their mother. Bunny couldn’t do it on her own; she needed her: without Kristin she would get extinguished like a beetle beneath Ramona’s Louboutin.
The main door slammed, followed by a flutter of animated chatter. Kristin dried herself off, wrapped a towel around her waist and crossed to the house.
Bunny was galloping out to meet her, dressed head to toe in sequins and a wig better suited to a forty-year-old transvestite. At thirteen she wore full make-up, her nails painted and her eyelashes huge, and was struggling to balance on the four-inch stilettos that were preferred by the pageant organisers. She was small for her age: apparently her petite stature was a hit with the judges. Bunny White was a teen beauty queen, the best known in the state.
‘We won!’ she squealed. ‘I did my hula dance and then I had to catwalk and then they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up! I said a singer, like you. Then they asked me who I loved best in the world and I told them Joey from Fraternity because all the girls said Scotty and I wanted to be different, and I couldn’t say him because he’s your boyfriend.’
‘Hey, slow down!’ Kristin embraced her. ‘That’s amazing, I’m so proud.’
‘It was me and Tracy-Ann in the final,’ Bunny rattled on. She smelled of perfume and the drench of hairspray clamping her style into place, and her skin was clammy with Bronze Baby fake bake. ‘Mom thought it was over when my wig fell off and I cried but she made me go back on and then Tracy-Ann fell over and that’s when Mom said she knew we’d won!’