Rebel Rockstar (2 page)

There was a deeper, more secret reason that I didn’t want to expose so much of my body.

The reason I had never spoken about to anyone.

The reason I had broken up with Nathan Romero.

T
he sun is too bright
, and my phone is way too loud. I grunt into my Egyptian cotton pillowcase and wait for the hellish ringing to end, but it seems to go on forever. Reluctantly, I roll over and answer the call.

“Yeah?” I groan, not even bothering to check who the caller is. It’s my manager. My friends never call me before ten in the morning.

“Have you checked the news this morning? Have you
even bothered to look?
” comes the shouted reply.

“What? What is going on?” I shake my head to clear it as I realize that something possibly serious has happened.

“Just look at the goddamn
People
website, Nate,” my manager growls before hanging up.

I blink tiredly, feeling how hung-over I am, and quickly load the website on my phone, not really concentrating until I notice myself on their front-page story.

“Drunk Rocker Takes Home Call Girl!”
Oh my god, this is not good at all
. I scan the page.

Nathan Romero, ex-boyfriend of sweet-as-pie singer Jemima Rockwell, has sunk lower than before! Last night the liquored-up rocker was seen taking a taxi to a luxury hotel with none other than infamous celebrity call girl, Mindy Hall. The two were reportedly “all over each other” in a local bar and Hall was spotted leaving Romero’s apartment at 5 a.m. this morning!

Now I know why my manager is so livid: Mindy Hall has caused the downfall of many burgeoning careers in the music industry. I swipe my hand over my cheeks, cringing at the stubble I feel there. I pride myself on my chiseled looks, on not allowing stubble to be seen on my face in any public photos.

I dial my manager, Paul, and wait for the man to answer. “I saw it, Paul. God, I don’t know what came over me. I guess I was too dru—”

“Too drunk to notice, Nate? This has been a long time coming, you know. It’s time you cleaned up your act. I’ve booked you as one of the lead acts on Starlight Cruises and it is
not negotiable.
If you take this job, it’ll show people you can still perform, instead of drinking your money.”

I sigh loudly into the phone. “Surely there’s another way. You know I hate those cheesy cruise-liners, Paul.”

“Nathan, your career is in a shambles and after you split from Jemima…you’ve been spiraling out of control. The TV movie you both did will only be popular for so long before you’re old news”

“She split up with me, Paul,” I almost whisper. I still hurt whenever I see Jen or hear her name; we had been in love, high-school sweethearts, but she had ended it with me so suddenly.

“I don’t care! You’re doing the cruise!” I hang up, tossing my phone onto the end of the bed in frustration.

I hope Jem hasn’t seen the article online, but she probably has. When we were together, Jem pored over any celebrity sites with vigor, knowing one day she would be on them as a star. Our own careers had been skyrocketed by a made-for-TV movie called
Freedom Bound
, a love story set on a horse ranch in Texas. I had played the bad-boy farmhand who fell in love with the daughter of his boss, and all the usual drama had ensued in the film: Jem’s character running away from the stifling father to be with my character.

I smile at the memory of the first time I saw her on set. Her golden hair had been loose, soft tendrils brushing against her cheeks. She had eyes as blue as Arctic ice and lips like plump plums.
Man, that body!
I think, smiling cheekily to myself, feeling my arousal grow as I remember Jem’s long, tan legs and taut stomach, her pert breasts and tight buttocks. I had longed to touch her, to be with her, but she wouldn’t allow me to go past kissing and gentle petting.

My mind turns dark. She allowed me to take it further only once. We had been in her trailer after a particular scene in the movie, taking a break from shooting. Jem had been teasing me by kissing my neck. She smelled wonderful. I’d pulled her close and kissed her hard, feeling our equal passion growing with each kiss. I slid my hands under her soft cotton shirt, rubbing my thumbs over her already erect nipples…

The memory causes me both pleasure and pain. Jem had suddenly pulled away, sobbing, and run out of the trailer, leaving me stunned and confused.
She broke up with me the next day
.

* * *

O
n the first
day of the cruise I stand on the deck of the cruise liner, brooding and smoking a Camel Light. My mind whirls. Jemima will also be one of the acts. I don’t know how I can be around her for an entire week, isolated on a ship. My manager told me that I was allowed no alcohol on the trip in order for me to clean up my act and show the public that I was still worth following.
I could care less about my “public,”
I grumble inwardly, feeling the familiar pangs of needing a strong drink.

Just as I’m about to sneak off to the bar, I spot a familiar blonde girl sliding out of a silver Audi.

Jem!

She’s dressed differently, more provocatively than ever before. Her toned body looks amazing in the tight clothes. Her makeup is sexy and inviting. Blood flows to my crotch at the mere sight of my stunning ex, who now looks much more mature than her young years.
I guess we’re both due for an image upgrade,
I think ruefully to myself. I stub the cigarette out and bolt for the ship’s corridor, eager to meet Jem before the crowds of admirers do.

I stand outside the suites, assuming she’ll be in the same area as me. My heart flutters when Jem turns the corner, but she doesn’t notice me waiting beside a huge fern in the corridor. I have to get her attention! I smile to myself as I speak.

“Jemima Rockwell! Don’t you look absolutely ravishing?”

“Uh…thanks?” Her reply leaves me feeling deflated. She doesn’t recognize my voice anymore.

Jem turns and I clock her dismayed expression. She looks absolutely beautiful, her new look doing wonders. The sexual tension between us grows, becoming almost physical. She’d always been deeply attracted to me, just as I was to her. I scan her body, lingering on her exposed flesh, and my thoughts make me blush at their carnality. After a brief exchange, Jem rushes off, as if she can’t wait to be out of my presence, and I feel the familiar sadness wash over me.

I feel stifled in this white cotton shirt and beige cargo pants - all part of my manager’s plan to make me look “decent” - and I stalk into my suite, feeling sweat drip down my back.

I slide the shirt off, not bothering with the buttons, and nearly tear off the dowdy pants, wishing I had at least brought one pair of my favorite black, scuffed jeans with me.
I look like my dad’s accountant in this getup. Jem must have thought I looked ridiculous out there,
I rage to myself, cursing Paul and his terrible dress sense.

Naked, I fling himself onto the bed, my thoughts spinning. I wish Jem had given me a reason for breaking up with me. Didn’t she love me as much as I loved her? Earlier, in the corridor, she looked at me for one brief moment the way she used to before she pulled away from my hand as if I were diseased. I had felt the electricity between us, had felt hope for our relationship and, deep down, had felt an intense urge to pick Jemima up and kiss her as hard as I could. The memory of her body against mine is strong and it causes me to shudder on the bed, both in sadness and in lust. How am I going make it through the week on the ship in such close proximity to her, without being able to touch her or, as it appeared, speak to her?

She must have read that article. Jem has always been so pure and uncorrupted…no wonder she reacted that way!
I scold myself for feeling anger toward Jem for pulling away from my touch.

The phone rings, breaking me out of my reverie, dragging me back into the real world. I roll onto my stomach to retrieve it from my pants pocket on the floor, groaning when I see that it’s Paul.

“Yes, what is it?” I blurt, not bothering to say hello.

“There are reporters here wanting to speak to you, Nate. Get down to the banquet hall!” Paul hangs up, leaving me naked on the bed, wanting to simply curl up and sleep. I lazily pull myself up off the bed, bending to pick up my shirt and pants. Had any of my female fans been watching in that moment, they would have gotten a full view of my throbbing cock.

A
fter the interview
, I sit on a stool in front of the ship’s bar, sipping slowly on a virgin mojito and wishing there was something stronger in the drink, something to take my mind off of Jem and my upcoming performance. The reporters had streamed a deluge of questions about Mindy Hall, Jem, and if I was able to continue singing if I was hardly sober anymore. I’m upset and in need of a stiff Scotch but I have to play along with my manager’s “squeaky-clean” image upheaval. I don’t understand
why
I need to change my image.

Surely my bad-boy-rocker lifestyle and look is what attracts the crowds of female fans. They are the ones who buy my albums, after all. I drain my glass and put it down, not knowing what to do with myself. I wish I had someone to talk to but Paul is older and more interested in marketing the brand Nathan Romero than actually getting to know me.

My mind strays back to Jem and how gorgeous she looked in her new clothes, how her body was enhanced. I wonder why she agreed to the new image, knowing how strongly she held her values and virtue. Jem is one of the last remaining virgins in the music business, something I secretly find very admirable. When I met Jemima I’d grown tired of the young girls who threw themselves at me. She had been a refreshing change.

From the corner of my eye, I notice someone rushing past, a flash of sparkling gold. It’s Tonya Becker, another up-and-coming singer I once slept with.
She’s here too?
My despair deepens. Tonya hated Jem. She’d envied Jem and our relationship. I hope Tonya won’t make things difficult between the three of us. I can’t afford any more negative media attention.

My manager must have deliberately forgotten to mention that both Jem
and
Tonya would be on the cruise! Angrily, I order another virgin cocktail, once more wishing I could find something stronger to drink.

I
stretch
my legs and sit up on the edge of my bed. The meeting with Kim had been somewhat draining, especially all the changes that were to be made to my look and sound. Kim wanted me to start wearing heels more often, not only to awards shows, and had also wanted me to sing some raunchier songs.

I sigh and roll my shoulders back, hoping to relieve some of the stress I feel. I get up and slip on my heels, wanting to make my way to the dining room and find something to snack on before the introductory dinner later in the evening. As I step out into the corridor, I spot someone who I had hoped not to see: Tonya Becker, my enemy in the business.

Tonya wears a tight-fitting gold dress bedecked with sequins. It hugs her dark, chocolate body and makes her look amazing. I suck in a deep breath of air and brace myself for Tonya’s sarcastic remarks.

“Well, if it isn’t little Jemima! You look different! Someone finally pull you into the twenty-first century, huh?” Tonya laughs and shakes her head, causing her perfectly coiffed afro to shiver under the lights.

“Hello Tonya. I didn’t know you were also on the cruise.” My smile is tight-lipped and thin, showing Tonya that I am not interested in her company or conversation.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You aren’t the
only
rising star, you know…even if it did take you forever to realize that the whole ‘country-jeans’ thing made you look like a sad little ten-year-old! Is this new…
outfit
supposed to catch Nate’s attention?” Tonya smirks when she sees my bottom lip start to quiver, knowing I am on the verge of tears.

I wait until Tonya flounces away, then run back into my suite and fling the shared bathroom door open. I can’t stop myself from sobbing loudly into my hands.
How does she always manage to do this to me?

The bathroom door opens softly and I hear hesitant footsteps coming towards me. I raise my head to look into the soft green eyes of a young girl.

“Hi. I heard you crying and I wanted to see if you were okay. You’re Jemima, right? I’m Lola—Lola Castillo,” the young girl says, her voice soft and melodic. I smile back at her, taking in the girl’s pale skin and mop of dark brown curls.

“Hi, Lola. I just had a run-in with someone, but I’m okay. You can call me Jem. Nice to meet you!” We smile at each other, both realizing that we could easily become fast friends.

“Would you like to hang out with me on the deck? There’s a band playing and the lunch buffet has just been put out.” Lola grins as she mentions the food. I nod eagerly and we leave the bathroom and head towards the dining room and deck.

“Are you a singer too, Lola?”

“Yeah, I’m with Cole Hayes right now. I think he used to be your manager when you did that cute TV movie?” At the mention of my old manager’s name, I stop in my tracks, the smile on my face vanishing. “Oh, uh…Jem? Are you okay?” Lola says my name again, touching me lightly on the shoulder, causing me to jump slightly and clear the shadow that had fallen in my mind.

“Sorry, Lola, I’m just super tired,” I reply, managing to flash a small yet cheery smile at the younger girl.

Lola smiles back and we continue on to the buffet. The food looks delicious: plates of glistening pink smoked salmon topped with cream cheese are surrounded by crunchy, handmade bread and bowls of lush, green salads. I grab a plate and start dishing up, salivating as I reach the dessert table. Lola giggles as we both reach for slices of gooey, moist chocolate cake and frothy cream.

“I really shouldn’t be having this!” I exclaim, thinking back to Kim’s reprimands and how she had advised me to stick to veggies and fruit to keep my figure slim and “sexy.” Lola winks and in reply to my admission forks a huge piece of chocolate cake into her soft pink mouth. Both of us burst into laughter and walk towards an empty table close to the band.

“Lola, how is Cole as a manager? Is he being good to you?” I ask, trying to sound as if I’m not really interested.

Lola thought for a minute, “He’s really nice. He’s always telling me how good my voice is and how pretty I am. He’s always really polite to my parents, too.”

I take a small bite of salmon and nod, trying not to think of my own experience with Cole Hayes as my manager. For a few minutes, we sit in a comfortable silence, each lost in our own thoughts. Then Lola looks up at the ornate gold clock above the bandstand.

“Jem, it’s almost five o’clock! We have to start getting ready for tonight’s dinner!”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t realize it was so late!” We stand up quickly and make our way to our suites, chatting excitedly on the way about what outfits we would be wearing.

* * *

I
slither
my lithe body into a deep blue, silver-sequined mini-dress, a color that makes my tan glow and my eyes look like violet pools. I spin around in front of the mirror in my room, examining my body from every angle, pleased with how I look. My wardrobe assistant had chosen silver heels to match the dress and I slide them on, smiling at their sparkle.

I don’t look too bad in this dress…I just wish it was a little longer
, I think as I apply a final lick of deep red lipstick to my pouted lips. My blonde hair is in a soft, elegantly messy bun, clipped back with a midnight blue rhinestone hair clasp.
I wonder what Lola will wear. She has such beautiful skin!
I smile at my reflection, happy that I have found a friend on the dreaded cruise, especially after seeing that Tonya is here too.

I start slightly at the knock on the bathroom door and turn to open it. Standing in the bathroom is Lola. She’s wearing a mid-length fuchsia skirt and a cropped white halter shirt, completed with pink platform wedges. I gasp and clap my hands in delight when I see her.

“You look so awesome, Lola! I love those colors on you!” The young girl blushes red and smiles shyly at me.

“You look great too, Jem!” I reach forward and hug her, and then we leave the suite arm in arm, glowing with excitement and happiness.

A
s we leave the room
, I see Tonya stepping out of hers, rolling her eyes at us. She has relaxed her afro, curling the ends of her soft black hair, and applied natural, golden-tinted makeup to her face. Her dress is a little black designer number with low-cut cleavage and a slightly flared bottom, highlighting all of her best assets. In golden stilettos, Tonya follows Lola and I slowly to the dining hall, eager to make a fashionably late entrance, of course.

As Lola and I make ourselves comfortable in the leather dining chairs, Tonya saunters into the room, making everyone stop chatting for a few seconds to take in her sultry appearance. Nate, who had been staring at me, turns to look at what had caused the sudden silence in the room. Even I can’t deny that Tonya is a stunning woman. She looks amazing in the black dress.

“Hi, Nathan,” Tonya purrs, ignoring everyone else in the room as she makes her way over to the main table. She sits down across from him and gives him her most seductive smile. Seeing her look at him so hungrily is making me upset. My stomach is in knots.
Nope! That’s seasickness!
my inner voice says jokingly. I really
do
feel queasy, but I don’t want Tonya to see me throw up all over the table.

I rush out of the dinner before any introductions are made. I feel nauseous and seasick due to the constant gentle rocking of the cruise ship. I make it to the railings of the outdoor deck and stick my head over them, retching my lunch up into the dark, black waters below. I hang my head after the last dry heave, feeling sticky and sweaty; the fact that I am not wearing flat shoes doesn’t help either. I know my makeup is ruined but I don’t care.

Right now all I want is to curl up in my bed and fall asleep. It’s been a long day and seeing Nate and Tonya has dampened my mood.
At least I have Lola to keep me company
, I think, managing to smile to myself despite feeling so ill. The younger singer obviously sees me as a mentor. I will have to tell her about Cole Hayes before the trip is up. I cannot allow Lola to stay with him as a manager…or as a “friend”.

My head is spinning and I look around for a bench to sit on while the world comes back into focus. I see one farther down the deck in a pool of soft amber light and make my way towards it, steadying myself on the railings with my right hand. I reach the bench and flop down onto it, reaching down to unbuckle and remove my high silver shoes. Once the uncomfortable shoes are under the seat, I close my eyes and lay down on the wooden bench, my feet curling up behind me. In this position, I don’t feel quite so nauseous and find the rocking of the ship slightly pleasant. I decide to rest until the beginning of the dinner is over, then make my way inside for dessert. I don’t feel up to facing my manager’s “advice” about how to sex myself up, nor am I looking forward to the awkward silence between Nate and I.

I can’t believe the way Tonya was looking at him. She knows he’s my ex! Why would she try to hurt me? I barely know her!
Tears start to well up under my lashes. Tonya had joined the same company as us when we had just begun our careers—she was a soul singer and we had vied for media attention ever since she figured out that I was her competition.
We don’t even sing the same kind of stuff. Why does she have such a problem with me?
I wish I had a glass of water nearby. My mouth is suddenly dry and I still feel dizzy. I hope I won’t have to throw up again.

As I groggily sit up, I see Nathan walking towards me, a tall glass of water in his left hand, his right hand closed around something.

“Jem? I thought you could use something for your head. You look kind of pale.” His voice is soft, nearly a whisper, but it seems loud to me, louder than the waves lapping up the sides of the ghostly white ship.

“Thank you, Nate. I was just thinking about how I could use some water.” I reach out to take the glass from his hand and brush my knuckles against his fingers accidentally. We both feel the spark when our skin touches. I quickly gulp down some water.

“Here. I brought you an Aspirin, too.” Nate smiles at me in the soft, orange light. His eyes are fiery in the glow, his skin almost golden. I inhale softly, staring at him.

“Sit down, Nate.”

“Oh…sure!” Nathan looks surprised at me telling him to sit, obviously thinking I would tell him to leave me alone. He lowers himself to the bench next to me and smiles slightly.

“It’s so peaceful on the dock tonight. The sea sounds like music almost.” I don’t look at him.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful out at sea. The water looks like silk, and you can see all the stars,” he replies. “You look amazing in that dress, you know. I never thought I’d see you in such a tight outfit!” Nate teases, and I hear myself giggling in return.

“I never thought I’d see you in a
clean
white shirt!” I retort, taking in Nate’s crisp white button-down and neatly ironed cargo pants. “Seems like your manager wanted to make you over too, mister Bad Boy.”

Nate smiles and pokes me playfully on the arm, but turns suddenly serious. “Jem, what happened with us? Why did you break up with me?” His voice is pleading, almost a cry.

“Nate, I don’t want to talk about this right now,”

“You didn’t give me an actual reason, Jem! You just…you just left me.”

I turn my face to him, my eyes blurry with tears, lips quivering, holding back a sob. “Nate, you won’t understand. You could never understand!”

I get up from the bench, forgetting my shoes, and stalk over to the farther end of the dock. We remain in charged silence on the deck, neither one prepared to speak to the other, both lost in our own thoughts.