My Stepbrothers Rock: Headliner

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My Stepbrothers Rock: Headliner Page 1

by Stephanie Brother




  My Stepbrothers Rock

  Headliner

  by Stephanie Brother

  © 2015 Stephanie Brother

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.

  Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented having sex are 18 or over.

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  Table of Contents

  Maybe A Plan

  Morgan's Birthday Surprise

  The Concert

  Graduation

  Excerpt from My Stepbrothers Rock, Opening Act

  Excerpt from Hooked On My Stepbrother

  About the Author

  Maybe A Plan

  I'm elbow deep in books for my art history class, studying for mid terms next week. I swear to God, I can't wait to graduate. Who the hell needs to know when Picasso painted XYZ piece of art in the red or blue period? I ask myself as I flip through the book hunting for answers.

  I land on a full page spread of Michelangelo's David sculpture and pause. It's not the first time I've seen it, but it never fails to make me throb with thoughts of Alex. Their bodies seem similar in composition, the tender pout of the lips under a slender nose and trim tight muscles. I imagine the package between Alex's legs is much larger than David's. The visual makes me burn for him and with the distance between us, I can only fantasize about ever touching him flesh to flesh.

  Beep! Brrr Beep! Beep!

  The call alert coming from my laptop startles me. I pull up the video software and see my stepbrother's avatar. He's making his best sultry my-life-is-so-bad-it-pisses-me-off face. Funny coming from a guy who grew up in the Beverly Hills of New York. His dad practically handing him his real estate development company if only he'd put down the guitar and cigarettes.

  “There she is! What's up baby M?” My stepbrother's picture is blurry and full of pixels, a sign he's video chatting from his smart phone.

  “Ugh! I'm freakin' losing my mind over these damn mid-terms coming up.” I'm tempted to swipe all the papers off my bed to make room for my laptop, but I'll be even more pissed if I can't find the one damn paper that helps me pass this class.

  “Yeah? Well, don't do that, then I'd have to call everything you do mindless and you're already blonde, so then where would you be?” My brother grins into the phone. He's holding it so close I can see the crooked tooth third from the right.

  “Ooohhh, such trash talk from a guy who has Eddie Van Halen stand behind him at all of his shows and pretends like he's playing guitar.”

  “Doh! Oh no you didn't.” My brother's face goes serious.

  “Well, you started it rockstar!” He's always been so easy going about my jokes, which is another reason I miss being with him and long for the days we lived under the same roof, an idea that may never again be a reality.

  “Yeah, whatever. So when ya gonna have a free day?” The question makes me laugh. It seems I haven't had any since being shipped here almost two years ago. My parents even enrolled me in summer school saying it would help me skip classes in college. This whittled my summer vacation down to a week and a half during which I didn't see Alex because he's been on tour. Holidays have been like weekend getaways since my college is in nowhere Vermont where it snowed so much last year all the flights out of here were canceled.

  “You're funny. I don't even have weekends free to relax, let alone breathe.” My brother sets the phone in front of him. I can see now he's wearing a white tank top and black jeans, so James Dean, which I would have no clue who the sexy actor was if not for this damn class.

  “Shit! I really need a break from all this learning, I'm actually starting to remember useless crap!” I yell at the laptop screen. My stepbrother looks startled for a split second before chuckling. He's sitting on a bench strumming his acoustic guitar. It brings back that fated memory. The one just before I was sent here. The one that separated me from the one guy I've grown to love even more over the past year and a half.

  He wouldn't know it, my stepbrother, Alex. After our dry hump and groping in my stepdad's man cave, better known as my brother's studio, I was sent away immediately to prison, better known as Cherrycreek Woods All Girls Boarding School. I was pissed and hurt and bewildered. So many emotions, it took me a good two weeks to even answer his texts.

  I've been in love with him since I was in middle school, which he found out almost two years ago after reading my diary. As pissed as I was, at the same time, I was happy. I don't know how I would have ever told Alex my feelings and honestly, I wasn't planning on ever professing my love, so when I saw him reading my written thoughts it was almost like when your best friend tells the guy you're crushing on that you're crushing on him. Then, he either makes a good move or a bad move. Lucky for me me, he made the good move.

  “Soon enough little bookworm. Hey! You know I'm playing Buffalo next month right? Grant has us opening for The Black Keys.” His fingers pluck the keys in a melody that gives me goose bumps. I've missed hearing him and while it's only been a few months it feels like forever. Sometimes it makes me wonder if I'm really in love with Alex the musician. The one who can play a few chords on a guitar and pull the strings of my heart so hard I feel as though I might die if not for the memory of his lips on mine.

  “Are you kidding? I love the Keys! Grant's actually got some taste.” I viewed my older stepbrother as a bit of a prude. Not sure why since Alex's band was in the same musical genre as the Keys. I guess I didn't think he was hip to the popular artists, or bands I liked, but then I didn't know much about Grant.

  He's almost ten years older than me and was already living on his own making it big in Los Angeles by the time my mom married his dad. Really our only contact was during the holidays. A few days of eating at Thanksgiving, a week of presents and parties during Christmas and the occasional Father's-Day-Birthday combination fishing trip, which I figured was some kind of male bonding so he could hit my stepdad up for money.

  “Yeah, he's not half bad little princess,” Alex scoffs.

  “Sounds like you guys are getting along.” I'm relieved at the thought, remembering the fight the two of them had during his birthday party a few years ago. After talking to my brother, reassuring him that the angst he felt toward Grant was misdirected, and almost planting a big fat kiss on his mouth, which, thank God I didn't because Grant found us moments later.

  I'd stood behind the small stage where my brother's band would later play and listened to their exchange, so bitter and angry, a side of Alex I'd never heard.

  “Hey, little bro. Not sure what just happened there, but I need you to know I'm serious about signing you with my management company.” Grant's voice was sincere and if I were Alex I would've just agreed and moved on.

  “Stop with the little bro shit. You haven't been around to be a BIG bro for years now.” The sound of Alex's voice, low and dark, made me shudder.

  “You're right and I'm sorry about that, but you've gotta see the bigger picture. I've got one of the most promising new artist management companies on the West coast. Give me a chance to promote you, get you on some tours and break out of the garage band phase.”

  “What does two million views in a month on my Youtube account and winning the national Battle of the Bands tell you? It says I don't
need you and your damn promotion. I've already been hit up by the manager for Incubus to open their Asian tour, so tell me again, why do I need you?” I was in disbelief as this was the first time I was hearing about the Incubus deal. Alex always told me everything, so I was inclined to think it was a line of bullshit to look better in front of Grant.

  “Those are amazing statistics and you're right, maybe you don't need me, but I've got your best interest in mind and even more so because you're my brother. I'm not gonna screw you down the line or give you the leanest royalty deal I can pull over on you.” Grant sounds very convincing and I almost wanted to jump around the corner and yell “Take the deal!”

  “My best interest? What the fuck? You sound like dad. Did he bribe you into taking me on so you could watch out for my rock and roll lifestyle, make sure I didn't drown myself in women and drugs and spoil the family name?” Alex laughs as if those ideas are foreign and I hope they are or at least combined into one woman, me, his drug.

  “Take it easy. You're blowing all of this out of proportion. Just accept my offer as though I'm a stranger. Sign with me for a few years and albums. If you don't like where your career is at the end of that time, you're free to go.” There's a silence between them.

  “Yeah, I guess you're right, but I keep all money from my website downloads and I want at least thirty percent of all royalties.” Alex offers.

  “Twenty percent until you resign our contract and you're not touring with has-been band Incubites.” Grant counters.

  “Deal if I get my own tour bus.” I'm beginning to think my stepbrother is greedy or maybe he's more of a jerk than I realized.

  “Geez, you're spoiled. You got it.” Grant laughs. I can hear the two shake hands and a pat on the back, which I assume is Grant patting Alex.

  “Anyway, why don't you get a weekend pass and come to one of the shows?” Alex's face is lite up with a hopeful smile.

  “Yeah, right. Did you pay your dad to come get me out of school? God knows my mom won't. Besides, last I checked I don't have a car and my bank account has mold growing in it.” I laugh at the thought, but it's true. I'd used the last of my allowance on some incredible jeans that made my size twelve ass look amazingly hot. Not that I could wear them anywhere on campus since it was uniform dress only. Except for the one day per month where we got to choose whatever we wanted. Aptly named “Streetwise Day” it allowed us to wear the clothes that we'd only been able to prance around our dorm in and being an all girls school, it was less than exciting.

  “Hmmm, you've got a point. What about hitching with one of your friends who has the day off?” Alex's brows are furrowed as though he's truly trying to figure a way for me to break out of this jail. Either that or he's multitasking trying to work out the chords for a new song.

  “Nope, not gonna happen. They don't just let you piggyback on your friends who are lucky enough to have a lifeline to the outside world, silly.” I knew this from first hand experience. My room mate Sasha has a sister here too, but one weekend she was barfing up her heels and couldn't go with the family on their monthly shopping spree. I dressed up as her sister, wore a hoodie and stood outside of the office while Sasha signed us out. She told the attendee I had the flu and didn't want to spread it. I guess they'd had plenty of attempts such as ours because we weren't ten feet away before being stopped and my hoodie removed. Needless to say, I had two weeks of extra service duty to think about what a bad idea it was, but all I could think of was how to do it better next time.

  “Okay, well how about a birthday pass? You're sweet eighteen in two weeks! That should count for something.”

  “You'd think, but sadly no. It counts to make you a responsible adult that can stand trial if you strangle one of your stupid professors.” We both laugh.

  “Happy birthday Morgan just in case we don't see each other.” Alex stops and looks at the camera. I think I almost see sadness in his eyes, but try not to read too much. There's been so much time and space between us. I know my feelings haven't changed, but I can't hold Alex to the same promise. It wouldn't be fair and while the thought of him falling for another girl kills me, I can't claim him as my own. Not yet.

  “Thanks.” I smile into the computer and listen as he sings a round of the birthday song to me.

  “Hey girl! Here's your coffee.” Speak of the devil, my roommate enters slamming the door behind her and hurriedly setting cups on our counter as if they're burning her hands.

  “Oh, thank God. Thank you roomie!” I reach my hand out to her not wanting to move from my position under books and paper. She cocks her head to the side and smiles while giving me the large paper cup.

  “Girl, you are knee deep in this art history shit ain'tcha.” She laughs and takes a drink from her cup while glancing at my computer sitting at the head of my bed. Within seconds she spits the coffee across the room coughing.

  “Is that? Is that, uh, uh...” Sasha stutters through coughs and gasps for air. I smile knowing what her question is, but not offering any information as I haven't since being here.

  “Alex Walker? Lead singer for Walker Heights?” Sasha is staring bug-eyed at the screen. Alex laughs shyly. It's nice to see his head isn't inflated with ego.

  “Um, yeah.” I'm reserved in my response unsure how she's going to take it. It would be a lot easier if she didn't have two of their posters and my stepbrother's face plastered over half of her wall. I can't blame her. For one, his band is one of the top indie bands breaking into the mainstream artist arena. We're all about indie here, so it's no wonder she might know about him, but I didn't expect full blown groupie.

  “How the hell?” Sasha's voice trails off as she looks at me waiting for a response.

  “He's my brother.” There, I said it.

  “Your brother? Your names Morgan Knight though.” Sasha's face is confused as she looks back and forth to the two of us trying to pick out familiar details between us.

  “Not exactly. He's my stepbrother, hence different last names.” I look at my screen, my brother is watching me. We lock eyes in an understanding that only we know we're more than that.

  “Well, fuck me! When were you gonna tell me girl?!” I can't tell if Sasha is mad as the smile on her face is like she's just opened a cookie jar.

  “Sorry, it just didn't come up. Besides, how would I sound bragging that my brother was a rock star? I wanted a friend, not immediate alienation.” It was my plan all along, to keep my brother a secret. Not sure why, maybe I was afraid, and still am, my true feelings would be more transparent than I wanted them to be.

  “Are you kidding me? He's like the hottest artist right now with the biggest online following. How could that possibly alienate you?” She sits down in the chair opposite the computer leaning forward toward the screen her eye's fixed on Alex.

  “Right. Glad you feel that way.” I like to think I had something to do with his online following as I started a blog about Indie bands just to keep track of him and promote his music. I had to make it a general Indie site and not just about Walker Heights in order to keep my face out of the spotlight. Of course, it wouldn't take a genius to figure out ninety percent of my promotion went to Alex and his band. I've kept it my secret from him so far, I guess because I don't want him to think I'm infatuated with him or worse, a groupie.

  “Hi, Sasha. Nice to meet you.” Alex laughs. He's still strumming the guitar, but moves to block the photo of the two of us behind him. It was a selfie of us standing in the back yard, our last embrace. Close, loving, intense. A dead give away we felt more than family love for each other.

  “Hi Alex.” She replies dreamily, her hand on her chin. “Wait! They're opening for The Black Keys like a hop, skip and jump from here!” Sasha says it like there's a possibility we'd be able to go to the concert.

  “Not even going there, so strike that hopeful idea from your head.” I'm not chancing a sneaky getaway.

  “Girl, come on. There's gotta be a way?” My roommate's eyes are wide as she looks at me th
en sits back in her chair thinking. “Wait a sec, I remember Christy talking about a hole in the garden hedge, behind the old shed.”

  “The one that's been there a hundred years, is filled with bugs galore and haunted?” Given those three shed tidbits, it's no wonder I haven't seen the hole.

  “Yeah, that's why it's still there. No one thinks we're gonna use it because we're so freaked out by it.” Sasha's eyes are wide. For a minute I consider the possibility, but come to my senses.

  “You do realize they can withhold our diploma's if we're caught, right? Not enduring my mom's forever bullshit if that happens.” And I knew my mom would definitely hold it over my head, if not disown me. I would be referred to as the child who blew their hundred grand in one day. I guess I wouldn't care so much except at the same time, it might blow my undercover love for Alex and that would be a bigger clusterfuck to explain.

  “Maybe you're right, but it's Walker Heights?” Sasha holds her hands up in further disbelief. I smile knowing she has more than a crush on Alex. Always talking about how she'd “fuck him in a minute.” It made me uneasy while at the same time giving me delight in the fact that I was once so close to the fucking becoming a reality for myself.

  “Yeah, it is, but you know as well as I do, there's one way out of here for me and that's graduation this summer.” I would love to go to the concert, more than that, I'd love to see my stepbrother again, but I can't get wrapped up in that possibility. I have to stay on track or I'll throw myself off the train out of here.

  “Well, okay,” Sasha sighs and sits back in the chair.

  “Hey M, I'm gonna let you go.” Alex grabs the phone bringing it to his face. Sasha gasps and smiles at his extreme close-up.

  “Okay. Talk to you soon?” I question not knowing when or where I'll see him again.

  “Yep. Next stop, next city, next, next time.” He started saying that after the first few cities they played in. It always made me laugh. I was envious of his life, getting to travel, perform for people who were cheering for him, groping for him, throwing their panties at him. The last thought makes me cringe. God, I hope he's not collecting panties on tour, or worse, groupies.

 

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