My Rock #6

MY
ROCK #6

THE
ROCK STAR ROMANCE SERIES

By
Alycia Taylor

Copyright
2014. All rights reserved.

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CHAPTER
ONE

TRISTAN

It had been three months since I’d won
Fresh Voices
. I was so wasted when I
first went on the show that I’d missed the small part about not getting the
cash until I finished the tour a year later—which meant one year without making
any money. I couldn’t play the bars because I was under contract. For three
months, I’d basically been sponging off of Elly. She hadn’t questioned why I hadn’t
offered her any money for rent or any of the other bills. I got lucky when I
stumbled up on her in that bar…in a lot of ways. I didn’t like taking advantage
of her, but figured when I did get the money, I’d pay her back.

Other than worrying about that, things were going
great. I’d never really had a girlfriend. I always thought it would suck to go
to bed and wake up with the same old piece of ass every day. It was not that
way with Elly, though. Even after all those months, she still gave me hard on
every time I looked at her.

She had her own life and her own things going on,
too, so it wasn’t like she was one of those girls who thought we had to spend
every waking hour together. Susie had gotten used to me being there, I think.
Elly let me sleep in her bed as long as I promised we’d keep the sex noise
level down. I’m not sure why she made me promise that though; she was the
screamer. Sometimes I was just too much man for her to keep quiet about.

Elly had gone to every one of my aftercare
appointments with me, and being with her keeps me out of trouble. I knew if I
was alone I’d get bored and go out looking for a piece of ass. That would
inevitably lead me to a bar or a club, and before you knew it, I’d be wasted
again. I didn’t want to be strung out when I got that million dollars and started
recording. I didn’t want this opportunity to go up in smoke or up my nose. I didn’t
want to have to trust someone else to handle my money again because I was too
strung out to do it myself. I didn’t ever want to go back to where I was. I had
worked too hard to pull myself up out of that gutter. I guess I was still there
in a way, financially, but I could at least stay focused knowing that was going
to change soon.

Those three months flew by. Between rehearsals and
all the aftercare appointments, I was busy all the time. When I wasn’t busy and
Elly was, I’d spend time at the beach, jogging or just walking along the
shoreline. The day before we were supposed to leave to go on tour, I was lying
on the bed watching Elly get dressed while I had all of these thoughts. We’d
been having sex all morning. I told Elly there were positions we hadn’t tried
yet and she hadn’t believed me, so I showed her several of them. She wouldn’t
doubt me again. She had on a pink tank top and a pair of pink boy shorts that
fit her round little ass just perfect. If we hadn’t just gone a couple of rounds,
I’d have been all over her again.

“Should we go get the stuff from your apartment
before we go on tour?” she said as she shuffled through her closet looking for
something to wear. “You’ll at least need your clothes and stuff, right?”

Fuck, just when things seemed to be going so well. Elly
still had no idea that I got kicked out of my apartment. I planned on telling
her at first, and then I didn’t, and the longer it went on, the more awkward it
got…so I just never did. I know I was being a chicken-shit but it wasn’t like
it really mattered right then, anyways. She had already said I could stay here.

I sat up and said, “You need to finish packing your
stuff today, right? I’ll go get mine while you’re doing that. I’m just going to
grab clothes and shoes…stuff like that. You don’t have to go.”

“Okay, I don’t mind helping though; I’m almost
finished packing mine. Well, I still have to get the rest of this stuff ready
for storage but….” Damn she was fine. I was thinking about packing hers again myself…and
I don’t mean her suitcase.

I got up all the way off the bed and went over to
her. I needed to go right then before she got dressed or she would insist on
helping me and I didn’t want her to find out like that. She was so hard to
resist though, and my cock was straining in her direction all on his own. When Elly
was around, especially when she was almost naked like she was right then, it
was like my cock constantly stood at attention.

I walked over and grabbed her and pulled her into my
naked chest. He breasts crushed against me and I squeezed her hot little ass
with both hands while I kissed her. When I broke the kiss I ran my lips across
her ear and said, “You
wanna
go another round before
I go?”

She giggled and pushed me back. “No, we really have
too much to do. It’s already almost noon and we haven’t got anything done but
sex.”

“Sounds like my kind of productive day….”

“Tristan! I don’t want to have to rush in the
morning. If we get our stuff finished we can go a few more rounds tonight,” she
told me with a smile. She was trying to pacify me and it worked. I had to get
that other shit done anyways.

I grinned at her and said, “Alright, I’m going.”

I bypassed the shower and pulled on my jeans and a t-shirt.
If I took the time to shower, that might give her time to get ready to go. I didn’t
want to be put on the spot and have to tell her about losing the apartment. I
wanted to tell her in my own way, on my own time. There’s no way she wouldn’t
figure it out if she went with me. I know, I sound like a paranoid
tweaker
. I guess I should have just told her, but I really didn’t
want to.

“Okay, I’m going to run over there now. I won’t be
long.”

“Can you get everything you need on the bike? You
really should wait for me and we’ll take my car.”

“Like I said, I’m just getting my clothes. I can
carry a duffel bag just fine.”

She shook her head at what she thought was my
stubbornness and stepped closer and gave me a kiss. I grabbed her ass again and
tried to slip my tongue into the seam of her lips. She pushed me back, and
giggling again, she said, “You’re hopeless; get out of here.”
 

“I’m going, jeez, baby! Crack that whip.”

She made a silly whip sound. She was such a dork
sometimes. It was part of what I really liked about her.

I got on the bike and rode through the city. The weather
was changing into fall and the breeze was nice and cool. We don’t really have autumn
in L.A. in the classic sense. It stays pretty warm until late October most years
and then the leaves usually blow off of the trees in the Santa Ana winds before
they have a chance to change colors. If they are tough enough to cling on,
they’ll turn a light yellow or brown more often than they will orange or red. I
used to love the traveling during the fall when I was a kid. We’d pass through
one of the Midwest towns and the trees would be so bright with orange and red
leaves that they looked like they were on fire. I also liked it when we’d go
back east or to Canada and it would be close to Christmas time and there would
be a blanket of snow all over everything. I loved California—the oceans, the
weather—but sometimes it was nice just to see and experience something
different. When I was younger, I liked the travel because I didn’t have to be in
town with my parents. The only time my life was good back then was when I was
on the road or onstage. I had a whole fantasy life built up in my head, and
when I was out on the road, I could almost believe in it myself.

I got on I-101. I didn’t need to go that way, I
could have gone straight through town, but I was taking the long way around. I needed
my ocean right then. I loved the feel of the cool ocean breeze that blew across
the city that time of year. Sometimes I think I like the ocean so much that I
should have learned to surf or fish…something. None of that was conducive to my
childhood, though, and by the time I was grown, I was wasted all the time. I
couldn’t work up much motivation to learn anything new. Besides, it was hard to
picture myself fitting in with the men who sat on the docks with their poles or
the surfer’s with their bleached hair and sunburnt noses.

I was enjoying the early afternoon ride along the
ocean, but mostly I was stalling. I wasn’t really looking forward to going back
to the old apartment, with or without Elly. I just didn’t want to run into
Buck. Besides the fact that it was embarrassing that he’d evicted me, I knew I
still owed him three month’s rent. Buck might let it go for a while, but he had
business partners and they were professional slum lords. They owned properties
all over east and south L.A. and had lawyers on speed dial. I didn’t need that
shit right then. I guess I shouldn’t have worried so much about it. It wasn’t
like I had anything for them to take if they sued me. You can’t take shit from
someone who doesn’t have it.

Still, when I finally got there an hour after I left
Elly’s, I parked the bike around back so that Buck wouldn’t see it and I snuck
in the back stairwell where I knew the lock on the door had been broken for
over a year. I made my way up to the second floor and then used the opposite stairwell
that landed right next to the storage closets where the rest of my shit was
stored. So far, I got lucky, no sign of anyone. As soon as I had that thought,
I saw Mrs. Petrillo, the old woman who saw me naked the day I chased Elly out
in the hall. That was months ago, but I could tell by the way her eyes widened
when she looked at me that she hadn’t forgotten.

“Hello Mrs. Petrillo,” I said with a smile.

“Tristan,” she said, disapprovingly. I kept smiling
until she was past me and then I finished heading down the stairs. When I got
to the bottom, the storage doors were on my right. I unlocked the door to mine and
went inside. I started going through my clothes and realized I needed some new
clothes. During the show, they gave us a clothing allowance. Everything I had
at Elly’s came from that. This shit was all years old and probably wasn’t worth
taking. I needed to take something with me though, or Elly would get
suspicious. I picked up a duffel bag and stuffed as much into it as I could. The
only thing I took other than my clothes were the notebooks I used to write down
my music; some of it was drug-addled crap, but some of it was salvageable. And
I took a big shoebox of some really old stuff I’d kept from when I was in the
band and touring. I didn’t need it, it was just sentimental shit, but who knew
if my stuff was still going to be there in nine months? I doubted it. They’d
sell it all or throw it away by then. I didn’t really care; by then I’d be able
to buy new shit—better shit.

I threw the bag over my shoulder and was stepping
out of the closet when I came face to face with Buck. He was standing there
waiting for me with a pile of paperwork in his hand. I didn’t doubt that Mrs.
Petrillo called him as soon as she hauled her fat, old ass up the stairs to her
apartment. Fuck! I couldn’t catch a fucking break.

“Hey, Tristan.”

I swallowed my attitude and said, “Hey, Buck! How
the hell are you?”

“I saw you win that show, congratulations. You’re
going to be a star again.”

“Thanks, cool shit, huh?”

“Yeah, very cool shit,” he said. Buck rarely cursed.
When he did, it sounded like a bad line out of a crappy movie. I had to wonder
if he was somebody’s brother-in-law or cousin at the management company. That
had to be the only way he got this job. He was in no way comfortable enough
with being an asshole to work for these guys.
 
“I have some paperwork for you, Tristan.”

Shit! He held it out and I wondered what he’d do if
I refused to take it. It didn’t matter either way. I took it and at a glance I
could see that it was legal stuff. “Maybe you can pay what you owe from what
you won on the show, huh?”

“Yeah, for sure. I won’t get it until I get back
from being on tour….”

He looked uncomfortable again as he said, “Oh…that
sucks. They’re going to take you to court if you don’t pay it in thirty days.”

Fuck. “Alright man, I’ll see what I can do.”

“They added interest.”

Of course they did. It didn’t make any fucking
difference what they added or subtracted. I didn’t have it either way. “Okay,
Buck, thanks.”

“Hey, Tristan,” he said when I turned away to leave.

“Yeah?”