The Rocks Duet: Fake Rocks & Real Rocks (a fake relationship rockstar romance)

by Julie Archer

  As she left the room, I wondered if she had any idea of what had gone on. But she was right, I couldn’t exactly wallow here again, tempting though it was.

  I dragged myself out of my pit and into the bathroom. The shower was hot and refreshing and I let the water cascade over my head, hoping it could take any thoughts of Saff away and let them drain down the plughole.

  She hadn’t replied to any of my messages.

  I wanted to explain everything to her, to tell her the truth and explain my dad had made things sounds worse than they were. Everything I’d done had only ever been in the name of protection. Not violence for my own satisfaction.

  When I got downstairs, I grabbed a cup of tea and a couple of slices of toast while Aunt Annie made her shopping list, without speaking to me. I couldn’t make out if she was upset with me or simply busy.

  As she drove us to the supermarket, she began to talk. “Did you get chance to speak to your dad properly?”

  My head snapped to face her. It was a good thing she was driving, otherwise we would have ended up in the back of the car in front. “What? How did you know I saw him?”

  Aunt Annie shrugged. “Me and your dad keep in touch a bit. Col doesn’t know. He thinks your dad is a waste of space.”

  Funny, I had exactly the same thoughts.

  “But why? You know how Uncle Col feels about him.” There had been no love lost between the two of them over the years. He blamed Mum’s death on Dad, even though it had been an accident.

  “I don’t know. Misplaced loyalty, I guess. He lost someone too, not just Col.” She kept her eyes on the road, not looking at me. I wondered if there was something else between them. I certainly wouldn’t put it past my dad.

  “Did you tell him about the situation with Saff?”

  “That you were being paid to go out with her?”

  And there it was. Aunt Annie had told him. I was fuming. I couldn’t believe she would tell someone—and him of all people—about my business. I didn’t want to be in the car with her. I wanted to be anywhere else. I turned my face to the window and stared out at the scenery until we reached the shops.

  I was still in a foul mood when we went in. The first thing I saw was the newspaper stand. The second was a picture of Saff with some bloke on the front page of The Informer.

  “What the fuck?” I raced towards the stand and scooped up a copy, before turning to the relevant page.

  The story covered two pages, mostly dominated by pictures of Saff and, as it turned out, Troy Carson in a club on the King’s Road getting hot and heavy with each other. The text speculated they were seeing each other again. From the way Troy had his hand up Saff’s skirt, there was every chance of that.

  I wanted to buy up every copy of the paper and burn them. Burn my memories of her as I watched my life fall apart again.

  “Tris? Are you okay?” Aunt Annie put her hand on my shoulder.

  “Have you seen this?” I shook the offending publication in her face. “Barely twenty-four hours after we split, she’s out shagging some other bloke.”

  Aunt Annie was struggling to keep a poker face. I knew her thoughts on Saff, and everything in the article appeared to prove her point. “I’m sorry,” she offered, her tone impassive. “Why don’t we go and get a coffee?”

  She steered me over to the coffee shop and joined the queue. I felt as if all the eyes of the customers were on me, silently judging me for falling for someone who clearly didn’t feel the same way as I did. I tapped my fingers nervously on the tray, wishing the barista behind the counter would work quicker. Eventually, we got our drinks and I spotted a table in the corner, away from the crowd and carried our tray to it.

  Aunt Annie sipped her hot chocolate with whipped cream, her fatty treat as she called it, and looked at me over the top of her mug. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  I didn’t, but maybe talking about it would make it hurt less or try to make me understand. “I know you don’t like Saff, but you didn’t really get to know her. She’s nothing like the appearance she presents. Underneath that facade is a…” I tailed off, not quite knowing what to say. I thought she was a lovely person, inside and out, although her reaction to me the other night said otherwise.

  “Hmm. The fact she’s already with another guy so soon after cutting you out of her life doesn’t make me agree with you, sorry. It’s clear she used you for her own gain, Tris, and you deserve more.”

  Did I? I lied to her about being in prison. Did that make me as bad as she was? I hadn’t used her though, I genuinely thought I was falling in love with her. Up until the night of the gig, I thought she felt the same. We’d shared a lot, had things in common only people who had experienced what we had could understand. Had it all been for nothing?

  “What are you going to do, Tris? You know you can’t go back to working with Col at the moment.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” I snorted. That much was true, I was sure Saff and Jonas wouldn’t want me anywhere near their house. She was right though, I needed a job. I couldn’t sponge off of them indefinitely. And if I got a new job, I could find a new circle of friends, maybe even a new girlfriend.

  Make another new start.

  33

  Saff

  “For fuck’s sake, Saff! Troy Carson again?”

  Jonas stormed into my room, throwing something at me. I hunched under the covers, hoping he’d go away. I lost count of the Pornstar Martinis after six, or was it seven, and this morning’s hangover was already starting to kick in. The last thing I needed was Jonas going off on one about…

  “Troy Carson? What the fuck?”

  Today’s Informer lay on the duvet with a snap of Troy, his hand up my skirt, and me in glorious technicolour on their front cover, snogging each other’s faces off.

  “I told you to stay away from him. I thought we agreed you wouldn’t go out with unsuitable men anymore.”

  “Ha! That was until I discovered the person I thought was suitable turned out to be nothing more than a common criminal. And you paid him to leave.”

  I wished I could tell Jonas all the time I was kissing Troy, I had been thinking of Tris. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him anything. What was the point of falling for someone you thought was perfect for you when they turned out to be a liar?

  Jonas sank down onto the bed. “I’m sorry, Saff. It was the right thing to do. We should have done more checks at the start.”

  “My love life isn’t a business transaction.” I pouted and pulled the covers up over my body. I was beginning to think staying in bed forever would be a good option.

  “If you’d have stuck to the agreement and seen it for the business arrangement it was, you wouldn’t be hurting like this now.”

  “How can you be so cruel? I can’t help who I fall for.”

  Jonas waved the paper in my face. “This, Saff, this is what we were trying to avoid. You being branded the scarlet woman again. The label will go nuts when they see this. After the brawl at the gig the other night, I had to do some serious damage limitation. You being seen with Troy isn’t going to help your image. I thought you’d turned things around when you started getting serious with Tris.”

  “And look how that turned out.” I couldn’t hide my sarcasm.

  “You need to think long and hard about the future, Saff. Think of all the work you, Darren and the others have put in to get to this point and you’re about to screw it up on the basis of a shag with a married footballer?”

  “He’s not married, he’s taking a break from his girlfriend.”

  “That’s not the point, Saff, and you know it.” Jonas pursed his lips. My cousin threw the paper towards me with some force and I had to move to avoid it hitting me. “You need to think about what you want, Saff. The record company don’t have much patience left and I can’t come to your rescue every time something goes wrong.” He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

  I fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. What t
he hell was I going to do now?

  For the next week, I kept out of Jonas’ way, staying out late or at Rosie’s and only coming home if it was absolutely necessary.

  I was knackered.

  Almost every waking hour had been spent partying. After Jonas’ threats, I had to be careful to make sure I wasn’t in public with anyone so I could be spotted and papped. Thankfully, I’d been out with Rosie to several events, finding all sorts of new conquests who weren’t bothered about a quick shag in the toilets of a fancy hotel. I’d lost count of the number of drunken fumbles there had been with weak-chinned bankers who I had no intention of ever seeing again.

  And there had been no coverage of Saff Barnes and her inappropriate behaviour anywhere.

  I’d like to say I felt better. That I was slowly getting over Tris. The meaningless trysts didn’t make me think of him any less. But it wasn’t true. Rosie had got me to confess what had happened and I broke down telling her.

  In truth, he was never far from my thoughts. The short time we’d spent together had been intense, all-consuming and I wondered whether I should have let him go so easily. I never asked him why he’d been in prison, why he’d felt the need to keep it from me. I could only think it must have been something dreadful. And Jonas kept reminding me good guys didn’t go to prison. Several times my hand hovered over my phone, wanting to message or call him. Each time I was about to press the button, I could hear Jonas’ voice reminding me he’d lied to us, kept something pretty serious away from us.

  On the Friday night, Tommo invited me, Darren and Barney to a house party hosted by one of his old band mates.

  The terraced Victorian house, south of the river, was reminiscent of the parties I’d been to at university. There were groups milling about in the hallway, the living room and the kitchen, people sitting on the stairs getting in the way of anyone who needed the bathroom or a convenient bedroom. The smell of alcohol and weed hung heavy in the air. I grinned. Maybe this would be a good night after all.

  “Hey, glad you could make it!” Tommo welcomed us as we reached the kitchen. “Come in, come in.” He pressed a bottle of beer into each of our hands.

  We stood and chatted for a little while. It was stilted, polite and none of the guys wanted to talk specifically about what had happened after the gig. I’d distanced myself from them over the past few days, even though we should have been in the studio. Tommo and Barney drifted away, leaving Darren and I alone.

  “Where the hell have you been all week?” Darren demanded. “You never answered any of my messages.”

  I shrugged. “Around, you know.”

  “And why haven’t you spoken to Tris since the gig?”

  I wondered how he knew, but then remembered the two of them had become firm friends in the time Tris and I had been together. I hadn’t realised they were still in contact.

  “I don’t have anything to say to him, Darren.” I took a swig of my beer and, at the same time, the moral high ground. “He lied to me about something pretty big. Who keeps a criminal record to themselves?”

  “Maybe someone who was falsely accused of something? Who was trying to do a good deed for someone else?” Darren shook his head despairingly. “You should have at least heard him out.”

  A seed of doubt began to sow itself in my head. Did he know more than he was telling me? What if Darren knew the truth? I wavered for a moment, before my resolve stiffened again. “Yeah, I could, but look how things worked out. We’re better off apart, Darren.”

  “I told you not to fuck this one up, Saff. I told you he was a good guy.”

  “Oh, but how wrong you were, Darren. Tris turned out to be a liar and a criminal.”

  “No worse than some of the people you end up shagging. And at least he doesn’t end up in the gossip columns.” He raised an eyebrow.

  My already bad mood darkened. “Cheers, Darren, I thought you were better than that.”

  “I’m just saying what people are thinking.”

  By people, I assumed he meant Barney and Tommo. Darren had been one of my closest friends for a long time and I knew I ought to listen to him.

  But I was getting sick and tired of people telling me what I should do and what they thought was best for me. I needed to take back control.

  “Well, if that’s what people are thinking, maybe we need to rethink the whole band?” I slammed my bottle down on the counter with such force, I was surprised it didn’t shatter. Without another word, I stalked out of the room.

  Once in the hallway, I hesitated. It was all very well throwing a strop, but I was miles away from home and I didn’t really know anyone else at this party. As I was toying with the idea of getting a cab, a guy approached me, beer in one hand, a joint in the other.

  “Well, well, the infamous Saff Barnes.”

  I frowned. “Um, hi?”

  He moved closer, holding the joint my way. “Carl.”

  Gratefully, I accepted, taking a long toke, the influx of relaxation hitting almost immediately. “How do you know who I am?”

  Carl shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone? Your reputation precedes you.”

  His words hit a nerve. It was exactly what Jonas had been telling me. Exactly what we’d tried to stop by setting up a fake relationship with Tris. Except I’d taken things further and then screwed it up. As usual.

  We moved into the living room and found space on one of the sofas, our bodies pushed close together. More beer appeared and Carl was happy to keep plying me with weed while we chatted.

  I certainly wasn’t going to object.

  Carl entertained me with colourful stories of his bohemian lifestyle, encouraging me to share similar experiences myself, all the while plying me with drinks and joints. Bolstered by the mellowing effects of the hash and several beers, I let my mouth run away with me, telling him about the plan we’d come up with to try to save my career.

  “I can’t believe someone like you needed to hire a guy to go out with you.” Carl shook his head in disbelief, passing me another roll-up. “I mean, look at you.”

  I’d toned down my appearance for the house party, wearing skin-tight black jeans and a strategically slashed vibrant cerise t-shirt which hinted at the cleavage underneath. My hair was pulled back in a half-ponytail and I’d kept my make-up light. I stared back at Carl through narrowed eyes. He was quite attractive in a scruffy, bearded man way. Totally different to Tris. Maybe he was what I needed right now. “You’re not so bad yourself.” I quirked a brow at him.

  When he reached for me, I didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, feeling light-headed and woozy. Who knew he would have such an effect on me?

  “Do you want to take this upstairs?” he murmured.

  I didn’t argue with him and he led me into the hallway, through the partygoers. As we reached the stairs, I stumbled and bumped into someone.

  “Saff? What the fuck are you doing?” Darren’s face appeared in front of me and I tried to focus on him.

  “What everyone expects me to do,” I slurred back at him. “Get off my face, then go fuck some random bloke.”

  He grabbed my arm and glared at Carl. “You don’t have to do this.”

  Angrily, I shook him off. “Piss off, Darren. You’re acting like Jonas.”

  “Sorry, mate, I don’t think she’s interested.” Carl shepherded me up the stairs and into one of the vacant bedrooms.

  I fell back onto the bed, my gaze following the patterns that swirled on the ceiling.

  “You always get hassled by him?” Carl was rolling another joint and I waited impatiently for him to finish. I wanted to get obliterated, I didn’t want to feel pain, or anything.

  “Only recently.” I propped myself up on my elbows, watching him.

  He made a face and held out the joint. “You don’t need a babysitter.”

  Eagerly, I reached for it, but he held it just out of my reach. “You want this? Or you want something more?”

  Carl was so close, I could smell the beer on his breath. Right the
n, I wanted him to kiss me, strip me naked and fuck me into oblivion. I wanted to forget everything that had happened. I wanted to erase Tris from my brain, to start over without thinking about him every second. When he drew back, I was disappointed.

  “You’re up for anything, aren’t you?”

  With a smirk, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small packet of something wrapped in tinfoil.

  As he opened it up and found his lighter to heat the foil, I knew instantly I was moving to another level. Carl gestured for me to lean over and inhale the smoke, his hand stroking the back of my neck as I did so.

  The relaxed feeling I’d been harbouring for most of the night intensified and I felt my face stretch into a smile.

  Oh my god, this feels so good…

  34

  Tris

  It had been a long week.

  After Aunt Annie and I had chatted, I spent the following day looking for jobs. A couple of interviews later, I was part of the team in a DIY and building suppliers store. From eight in the morning until six at night, I helped people find the power tools, kitchen flooring, paint, wood and all the things they needed for their home improvements.

  Learning the ropes and having to be polite to customers took a lot of effort, and I didn’t think about Saff every single moment of every single day. I went home each night, ate dinner with my aunt and uncle, then binge watched TV shows online.

  It was a simple existence.

  So far, I’d rebuffed any invites to the pub from my new workmates. I wasn’t ready to be quizzed about my relationship—such as it had been—with Saff. I knew they read the papers and the gossip pages. However, since the story with her and Troy Carson had broken, there had been no sign of her anywhere. I wondered how much of it had to do with Jonas. He seemed to have a controlling interest in her life.

  That night, I was debating which of my series to watch more of when my phone rang. It was late, after one in the morning. Who would be calling me this late?