Bad Boy Rock Star (8 page)

So
, the next morning we were in tree frog outfits again and working the train station. A different station this time but the same drill. Two hours and then we could ditch these stupid costumes and work on Plan B.

Angie had decided that we had to make Storm look big, really big.
We had to plaster posters all around the Metropolis building so that was all the booker would see when he left. We would walk up and down playing Storm loudly. We'd stalk the staff when they left for lunch and talk really loudly about how much we loved the Storm gig and what a great band they were. It seemed a bit of a dodgy scheme but what did I know? At least it sounded better than some of her other plans like breaking into his office and changing his ringtone on his phone to a Storm song then ringing him constantly until he got the song stuck in his head.

"You've gotta be a bit more bouncy," Angie told me.
"You can't scowl at people. You'll scare them off. No one likes a snarky tree frog."

"Like hell they don't.
They are grabbing these free frog chocolates like they haven't seen food for a year. What's the problem with people? Most of them don't even say thank you. You'd think they were bought up by wolves or something." I saw another hand shoot out for a free sample. "Hey kid, no more for you. I've seen you walk past here like five times. You've scored enough freebies."

"Hold on, here comes another wave of them."

The commuters herded down the stairs to the concourse in a huge wave. Most of them dressed in navy or black with sour expressions on their faces, as the sound of their stomping footsteps echoed around me. I tried putting a sincere looking smile on my face but, to be honest, it was a bit scary having them all approach like that. Then, ripping the free chocolates out of my hand before I even had a chance to hand them out. I reached into my bag to refill and a woman yelled at me for being too slow. As if she was entitled to my freebies. I'd have snapped back at her but remembered I needed the money. I really needed the money. Even though the pay was shit, that extra bit I'd earn meant the difference between sleeping at night and being kept awake wondering what I'd do if things hadn't improved by the time my paltry savings ran out. Anyway, once she tasted those chocolate tree frogs, revenge would be mine.

I filled up the dinky little cane basket I had over my hands and stood up.

"Hannah! Is that really you? What the hell are you doing?"

The chick in front of me in her tailored suit gave me the once over then wrinkled her nose as though something smelt bad.
I recognised her. We'd gone to school together but I didn't remember her name.

I turned my face, hoping she'd get the hint and go away.
I could run for an exit before… wait, she'd said my name. She'd already recognised me. There was no escape.

"Oh my god, what's happened to you?"
she shrieked, so that everyone across the station could hear. "I'd heard rumours about your dad but didn't realise it'd come to this. Oh, you poor thing."

She rubbed my arm.
I grimaced and handed her a tree frog.

"I'm doing this for charity.
For the sick children." I wasn't sure if she believed me but it sounded plausible.

As she walked off, I saw her get her phone out of her bag.
No doubt to ring everyone she'd ever met to tell them.

When our shift was over, we stuffed our tree frog costumes and all the posters and a few rolls of tape into a bag
, and headed across town.

When we got there, we couldn't believe it.
There were already three different lots of people sticking up posters. The construction site opposite the venue had a wall filled with posters but we started sticking ours up over them. As soon as we'd put one up, someone covered it with theirs. It looked like every band in town had the same idea and most of them had better posters. Posters with coloured printing on glossy paper. We just had cheap photocopies. How can you look like a promising up-and-coming band with black and white posters?

"Hey, get away, that's our spot," Angie shouted and chased a nerdy guy
off down the street but he'd be back as soon as she turned around.

"It looks like a lot of other people have the same idea.
"

Down the street, music blasted out of an old
ghetto blaster while some guys drove around in a beat up car playing more loud music out of their stereo.

I squatted down on the street.

"I don't think this will work." It started to dawn on me. There were probably a thousand or more bands in this town that were just as keen as we were. And that was just to play at this one place. Even if the band played there, it'd just be one night. Being an overnight success took a lot of work. Luckily, I had something a bit more devious planned.

Angie squatted beside me and lit up a cigarette.

"None of them have the nous to do our lunch stalking plan though," she whispered to me.

"How will we know what he looks like when he does leave?"

"I got a pic of him off the internet. I searched his name and there he was at some record launch party. You'll recognise him. He's got a massive nose. You'll see his nose leave the building before he does. Oi, you get away from our posters."

Angie ran after guy down the street.
She came panting back.

"I shouldn't run with a cigarette in my mouth.
Argghh, my lungs are burning."

"What's so good about playing here anyway?"
I looked up at the big white building with its Gothic architecture. It looked a bit old and crumbling to me. The front was covered in posters for bands but the office was around the side with a crappy little doorway leading onto the street.

"It's one of the biggest venues in town and lots of record company knobs show up to watch bands.
You have to be able to pack in 5,000 people just to get a support gig, right, so that's a helluva lot of people for a headliner. It makes you look like you’re really hot."

"Hey, is that him?"
  Perfect timing for my secret plan.

"Yeah, come on.
Just leave all that poster shit here."

We took off down the street after him but he walked at a brisk pace.
He was a skinny dude, not fat like I imagined, and he wore a long overcoat even though the day was sunny. He headed into a little café and ordered lunch then went to sit in the courtyard out the back.

We ordered coffees then followed him out the back.

Angie was right. No one else had followed. Those guys were all too busy with their poster wars to even think of stalking like we'd done.

Angie sat down and launched in a dialogue about the gig the other night.
How it'd been so crowded and she thought she'd be turned away at the door, how fantastic their set had been, how much she was looking forward to seeing them next time.

"Jack Colt of Storm is seriously the best.
He's so charismatic, people just flock to see him. I think STORM are going to be huge. They are so different to all those other bands." Subtlety wasn't Angie's strong point.

He spun around and stared at us.

"So, which one of you is their manager?"

I nodded.

"Do you know how many times a week I have to sit here and listen to someone banging on about their band while I try to enjoy my lunch?"

I tried to grin, a lopsided embarrassed grin.
But really, why take on the job if he didn't like being bugged about bands?

He walked over to our table, looked Angie over then turned as if to dismiss her.
He then looked at me. I wore a tight t-shirt and a cute little skirt. I'd needed something fairly tight so it fit under that stupid tree frog costume. His eyes moved down to my cleavage and stayed there. Seriously, like his eyeballs had fallen out and nested between my boobs.

He didn't speak for a minute
, long enough to creep me out. I adjusted the neckline of my t-shirt but it didn't seem to help. He was creepy and gross, standing over me like that. I wondered if I should stand up.

Before I could move, his hand reached out to stroke my arm.
I turned to get away from him but he kept patting me.

"Maybe, if you can be really nice, I might find an opening…"

My mouth dropped open. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Gross. I wanted them to get this gig but not that much. Hells, if I was going to go to that extreme, I could just become a hooker and be done with it. I wanted to respond but my mouth just opened and closed like a goldfish out of water. That wasn't part of my plan at all.

"Like hell she'll be
nice
. You piece of shit. Come on, Hannah, let's get out of here. It's starting to stink."

Angie had jumped up from her seat and grabbed my hand.

I followed her out and almost ran into someone coming the other way. I looked up to see a familiar face.

"Frank, how are you going?"

"Hannah!" He kissed my cheek.

"Good to see you looking so well."

"Yeah, I've taken over the management business. Just doing some work at the moment. How totally unexpected to see you here."

"Ha, always said you were the brains in the family." He patted my arm.
"Come over for dinner one night. Hey, you should meet Jason. I'm having lunch with him and he's worth knowing if you want to get some band business done." He looked over at the sleazeball.

"Come and join us."
The sleazeball was all smiles for us now that Frank was here.

"Sorry, I've got to run."
Angie took my hand and pulled me away. I probably shouldn't have brought her here with me.  She’d mess this up.

As I said that, the waitress turned up with our coffees.
"Where are you sitting, girls?"

Frank nodded to the empty table and we sat down.

"Have you met Hannah?" he asked the sleaze. "She's practically like a daughter to me. And this is…" Frank turned to Angie.

"Angie, our social media manager."

"Yes, we've met. I think we had a bit of a misunderstanding. I was making a little joke and she took it the wrong way."

Angie kicked my foot under the table.
There was no misunderstanding. You don't mistake a leer.

"Hannah is working in band management now.
For Megastar Management."

"Are they still around?
I thought the company folded years ago."

Well
, that was really tactful of him. Still, he'd recognised the name. I'd not even thought of using it when I called, figuring it'd mean nothing.

"I'm sure you could really help her out," added Frank.
"She's sure to have some bands you could put on your schedule."

"
Yes, we'd been talking about one of them. What were they called? Stork?"

"Storm," I said.
I bit my lip and didn't meet his eyes. "I have their demo in my bag."

"That's okay.
If they are with Megastar Management I'm sure we can find a spot for them." Sleazy Jason gave Frank a smile, like a dog wanting a reward for doing a trick. He took out his phone and flicked through it. "Ah, we’ve had a band cancel for next Tuesday. Do you think they could fill-in then?"

I nodded.

"Wow, Hannah," said Frank. "I'll be there. I'd like to see you in manager mode with this band."

Frank winked at me.
He was the best. I'd have totally got up and kissed him if I could've. Jason gulped knowing he was fully committed to having the band play now. With Frank turning up though, he'd have to keep his word.

It'd worked out just as Frank had said it would
when I’d called him the other night. We'd not even had to work the sexual harassment angle. I'd just had to act gullible and let Frank do the rest. Angie had helped too in her own way. Still, I could've done with less of that Jason creep.

Jason told me the details and said he'd follow up with an email.

"Okay, we've finished our coffee. Nice meeting you, Jason." There may have been a touch of sarcasm in my tone but just a touch. "And see you on Tuesday, Frank."

We didn't whoop until we got well clear of the
café. Then Angie grabbed my hands and swung me around.  She even did a little dance on the street.

"You are officially,
acceptably the manager now."

"Is it okay doing things like that?
It's not like I used my own ability or anything?"

Angie elbowed me hard in the ribs.

"You are kidding
, right? It's who you know in this business. And you know some hotshot lawyer which is totes awesome. Hey, am I really the Social Media Manager? That's sweet as. I need to get business cards printed."

She was right.
I'd be totally accepted as manager now but I had a bit of a sick feeling in my belly, having to work with that sleazebag.

I couldn't wait to see the look on Jack Colt's face when I told him I'd booked the gig. It'd be like I was fully vindicated. I'd be the one who got them the gig at the Metropolis not the girl who’d thrown up in his cowboy boots while some chick gave him head... I figured I should go around and tell them straightaway and maybe, while I was there, get a contact number for them. It wasn't as if I wanted to see him or anything.

I knocked at the door of the apartment, hoping they were home.
I looked around while I waited now that I had non-blurry eyes to see out of. For all this place looked so grungy, it couldn't be that cheap. It wasn't cheap grungy. It was like industrial chic grunge. And it wasn't just an apartment like I'd first thought either but the whole building. I could hear music coming from inside, so I knew they were home.

Maybe one of them had rich parents.
I had no idea what Jack did for money outside the band and Spud apparently lived in the outer suburbs with his parents.

The door was opened by a tiny Asian woman
, who I assumed was Eric’s mother.

She put her hands on her hips and examined me.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Hannah.
I'm the manager."

"Ah, Hannah, come in.
Eric told me about you. I'm just making dinner for him. He doesn't eat enough. But this band, it's not such a good idea. He's not going to make money from that. He should go back to study and become a lawyer. Or, if he's going to do music, he should do some nice pop music like those boys from Big Bang."

I had no idea who
Big Bang were but Eric-Mama didn't need any reaction from me. She hurried inside and I could smell something that smelt like awesome in smell form. If Eric-Mama was cooking I was so planning to stick around for dinner.

"Are Eric and Jack home?"

"Jack! Eric! Hannah is here."

Eric came out of his room.

"Hannah, hey, I'll get Jack."

They both came downstairs.

"I've got brilliant news," I said.
"I've booked the Metropolis. Next Tuesday night."

I grinned at Jack Colt with a big shit
-eating grin. Ha. He thought I couldn't do it.

"Fine.
Is that all you had to say because I'm in the middle of something."

He turned to walk back up the stairs.

"Yes.
That's all I've got to say. And you could say a bit more. Maybe thank you or something like that would be nice. You wanted to play there and I booked it. So suck it up and get ready for your career to begin."

He shrugged.
I wanted to hit him. I wanted to hit him so bad. My eyeballs would surely pop out of my head from the pressure building up. The ungrateful bastard. I thought about throwing something at him but Eric-Mama caught my eye. Something about her made me want to create a good impression, so I just silently fumed instead.

"That's fantastic, Hannah.
I can't believe you managed it and for so soon too. We need to get posters done and to tell people. We need to make this huge." Of course, Eric would say the right thing.

"Angie is onto the publicity."

"Who's Angie?" Jack stopped on his way up the stairs.

"You should know.
You were the one sucking face with her the first time I met you. Most guys would find out a girl's name first."

"You didn't seem to mind."

"I didn't get much choice in the matter." I hit him with the full force of my bitchface.

"Hey, hey.
Stop being angry. Dinner is almost ready. If you are angry, you can't enjoy the food properly. Jack, you should be nicer to Hannah when she comes here to tell you good news."

Jack scowled but didn't say anything.
I think he was little scared of Eric-Mama.

"Are you staying for dinner?" she asked me.

"Yes, stay," said Eric. "Mum always makes way too much food."

"Not that you complain."
She laughed and ruffled Eric's hair.

He flattened his hair down but looked at his mum with affection.
They had a special kind of warmth between them. Even though I'd been close to Dad, it wasn't all caring and loving like that. It made me feel messed up inside, happy but jealous at the same time. I caught a glimpse of Jack's face. From the look in his eyes, he felt the same way I did.

So much food covered the table
– dishes of delicious-looking nibbly things. Before I got poor, I'd never been hungry or even that interested in food, now it seemed like I had no manners at all and scoffed down every meal I could get.

"This looks awesome.
You are so lucky, Eric, to have a mum who's such a good cook."

"What about your mother, Hannah?
Doesn't she cook?"

I shook my head.
"I don't have a mother. Well, not that I remember. She died when I was really young."

"Ah, you must eat more then."
Eric-Mama took a platter of barbecued meat and piled it onto my plate. I didn't really follow her logic but I wasn't about to complain. "And kimchi. You must eat lots of kimchi. It's the best thing to make you happy."

She handed me a dish of red stuff.
It didn't look like it would make me happy. I took some and tasted it. It was strong but not undelicious. I had some more.

"And rice.
You have a lovely figure. It's okay if you eat lots."

I laughed.
Again, I didn't follow her logic but it seemed funny to eat just because I had a lovely figure.

Eric-Mama fussed around, making sure we ate enough.
Eric seemed to get annoyed with her but I loved it. I just worried she fussed too much and didn't eat anything.

"You have to sit down and eat too.
After all you cooked all this delicious food."

But she shook her head.
"I can eat any time. I just like seeing you young people eat. Otherwise you just eat junk like McDonalds and get fat."

We all laughed.

"I don't eat McDonalds," said Jack.
"It makes me fart."

He grinned at Eric-Mama.
His face lit up when he smiled like that and he lost that hard look he normally had in his eyes. It was the first time I’d seen him smile. His entire face changed and the coldness went out of his eyes for a moment. Then he looked at me and the smile disappeared.

"Jackie, we don't talk about those kinds of things at the dinner table."

That just made him grin more, like he'd only said it to get Eric-Mama to chastise him. I could kind of see why. It was nice to have someone caring about what you said.

Then Eric-Mama went into a long story about how she'd made Jack help her make radish kimchi one year and even though he had big muscles, he soon got tired rubbing in all the spices.

"
I’m not as strong as you are. You have over 50 years experience of making kimchi."

"Hey, you cheeky kid.
Do I look over 50? I look barely old enough to have a son Eric's age. He should call me sister, not mama." Then she laughed a huge belly laugh until we all joined in.

"You have great skin," I told her.

She beamed at me.

"I use special Korean beauty masks.
All the famous Korean celebrities using them. They are sheets like this." She put a tissue over her face to show me. "Sometimes Jackie and Eric use them too."

I looked at them, expecting them to deny it but they just looked sheepish.

"So, Hannah. What's a nice girl like you doing managing a band?"

I choked on my kimchi and tried to think of an answer.

"I was studying but figured it'd be better to get some real life experience. There's only so much you can learn at university, you know? Doing actual work gives you more business experience."

"Ah, but having an education is important too."
Eric-Mama glared at Eric after saying this and he kept his head down, eating. I figured that was a sore point between them.

"I'll probably go back and finish sometime."

By the time we'd finished, I didn’t think my belly had ever been so full. All that yummy meat and hot pot and so many different things I felt like my mouth was going to explode with the awesomeness of the flavours. I wanted to adopt Eric-Mama and have her cook for me every night.

"Why don't you boys make such happy faces like Hannah?"

Eric laughed. "You really do look happy."

"I love this food.
It's the best."

I'd never had a meal where people moaned and groaned over the food and I'd never done it myself but it felt good to express my happiness at eating out loud like that instead of being polite.
I'd never sat and patted my belly as it felt tight as a drum after dinner either. Even Eric had loosened the belt on his jeans.

"I'll put some in containers for you to take home with you
, if you like."

I wanted to kiss her.
I really did want to take some home.

"There's a last bit of pork belly.
Do you want it?"

Eric pushed the plate toward me.

"No, I'll explode. Seriously. Well, okay then."

"I've never seen a woman eat like you," said Eric
, and even Jack's mouth turned up at the corners.

Eric-Mama disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a whole bag full of food.
More than I'd ever be able to fit in my little fridge but I didn't think it'd last long anyway.

"You remember how to get to the train station?" Eric asked.

"No. Hannah can't go home on the train. Jack, you drive her."

Jack shrugged.
Obviously he could not think of anything worse than driving me home.

"I'll be fine.
It doesn't take long."

Eric-mama shook her head.
"It's dangerous for such a pretty girl to be alone at the train station at this time of night. There are a lot of bad people around here and you can't run away because your belly is so full. It won't take Jack very long."

"It'll be an inconvenience for him and I didn't even realise he had a car."

"He has a car. Where do you live?"

I told her.

"See, it will take hours for her to get home by train. And it's cold and dark. You don't want her getting attacked by creeps."

Jack picked up his car keys.
"Come on."

I shook my head but Eric-Mama pushed me out the door.

I followed Jack to the garage behind their place.

"This is your car?
It's really old."

Jack cocked his eyebrow at me but didn't reply.
I guess that came out wrong. I didn't mean old and crappy, but old and wow. I knew nothing about cars but this car must be worth a mint – and cost a mint to drive. The thing was huge and in immaculate condition. The body shone with a red gloss and it had huge fins out the back. It had to be from the '60s or something. When I opened the door, the smell of old leather really hit me. I wondered if Jack had restored it himself.

The drive home didn't take long but we sat in awkward silence.
I tried to think of something to say but my mind was a raging pit of blankness. I didn't want to mention the band in case he got snappy again and I couldn't think of anything else we had in common. I wanted to get home and sleep off my food baby but, at the same time, the thought of his thigh so close to mine sent a buzz through my body. These old cars with their bench seats seemed to invite some kind of sin.

He turned on the stereo.

"Do you know this song?" he asked.

"
Screw you, dude," I sneered back. "Do you think I’m a moron?"

I might not
have known much about music but this was Elvis. Is there a person alive who doesn’t know Elvis?

I curled in my seat and rested my head against the leather.
Suddenly, I was eight years old and driving in the car with Dad and
Heartbreak Hotel
had come on the radio and we’d sang together. I don’t know where we’d been driving to but I’d completely forgotten that time until now, the soft breeze coming in through the car window and the sun making everything outside shine so bright.

"
It’s the next left," I said, coming back to the present and realizing I was nearly home.

He pulled over outside
.

"You live here?"

"Yeah, I live here. It's cool. And very convenient."

He raised his eyebrow.
"Really? And I'm not buying that story about dropping out to get 'real world' experience for a minute. Rich chicks like you don't just drop out of school and move into slummy apartments. Not unless they are playing at being
real
people."

"I am a real person.
Oh, and thanks for the lift home."