My Rock #3 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #3)

BOOK: My Rock #3 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #3)
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MY
ROCK #3

THE
ROCK STAR ROMANCE SERIES

 

By
Alycia Taylor

Copyright
2014.
All rights reserved.

 
 

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CHAPTER
ONE

ELLY

Molly and
I
were setting up
for round five. As we were stringing electrical cords across the room to plug
in the sound systems, she was gushing about her new boyfriend. He was
fairly new
, anyways; they’d been seeing each other for about
three months, but it had only recently begun to turn serious. He was a guy
named Rob who, of course, sounded like a saint. Why was it that when
I
was having the worst time with a man, everyone around me
chose to be so happy? It was annoying.
I
didn’t
begrudge Molly her happiness.
I
really liked her and
it was good to see her so happy.
I
hoped that it
stayed that way and she had truly found her Mr. Right.
I
just wondered why I couldn’t be lucky enough to meet a nice guy and actually be
attracted to him. Perhaps
I
was just a glutton for
punishment. Back in
my
high school days, my mother
used to tell me that the reason I was attracted to the bad boys was because I
had a drive or a need to fix them. She also tried to tell
me
that everyone couldn’t be fixed, and that some people didn’t want to be.
I
probably should have listened to her more back then.

“What does he do?”
I
asked
Molly about the new boyfriend.

“He’s a cameraman for an independent film crew. They
make YouTube videos, mostly, but their movies are getting literally millions of
hits. It started out as an unpaid internship. He just graduated from UC San
Diego in June, though and they hired him right away.
I
met his boss last week. He alluded to the fact that he might have a position
for me when I finish this internship.”

“Wow! That’s great,”
I
told
her. “Dan sounds ambitious, and kudos to you, too!”

“He is, and
thank
you.
I
‘m so happy about his drive to succeed.
I
’m
not worried about whether or not a guy I’m seeing makes a ton of money, but the
last guy I hooked up with couldn’t even keep a job. He’s nearly thirty now; the
last time
I
saw him, he was still sponging off his
parents. He was a jerk, too. Not Dan, though. He’s sweet and smart and sexy and
funny and drop-dead gorgeous!”

I
laughed, “I think somebody is in love.”

“Not quite yet,” she said. “But I’m headed fast in
that direction. Speaking of in love, what about you and Tristan? How’s that
going?”

I
curled my lip and said, “That’s far from love, trust me. Not even in the same
ballpark,” she laughed.

“That bad, huh?
Is it because of the show?”

“No….I
mean
, I’m always
conscious that seeing him is a problem because of that. But that’s not the real
issue.
I
’d more or less decided that I’d be okay with
seeing him on the down low, which I was doing. I was at his house the night of
the party…and we were….”

“Naked and nasty?”
Molly said with a laugh.

“Shut up! No!”
 
I
could feel my face turning red, possibly
because I was lying. She actually had it right. “We were kissing, I happened to
glance down and there was a crack pipe and a bong on the floor, mixed in with a
pile of laundry he’d swept off the couch.”


Ew
, a
crack pipe?
That’s a little….
ew
…”
I
was glad she understood.

“Yeah, I know.
I
may have
not been so upset about the marijuana, but crack is a whole different ballgame.
I’m
pretty sure
that’s it for us. I have history with
an addict boyfriend and I’ve had some problems myself….I’m not up for doing
that again.”

“What did Tristan say about it? Did he try to say it
was ‘a friend’s’ or something? Or did he admit to it?”

I
was embarrassed again. “I didn’t even ask him about it…I just left.”

“Wow, you just literally walked out?”

I
didn’t think telling her that I had to stop and put my clothes on was
important.
I
just said, “Yeah, I just wanted out.”

“Did he come after you, or at least call you and
find out what was going on?”

“He chased me out into the hall. He was….okay, fine,
we were naked,”
I
said, mortified yet again.
 
Molly laughed;
I
could always count on her for that.

“I’m sorry. It’s not funny…okay, it’s a little
funny.
I
’m assuming you were dressed? I just have a
hard time imagining you being okay with running home naked.” She could not
suppress her giggles.

“Yes, Molly, I was dressed,”
I
said, rolling my eyes. “But I got dressed fast and he was a little surprised.
I
should have talked to him, I know.
I
just suddenly felt like history was repeating itself and I couldn’t breathe…I
could hear him calling after me and I even heard him tell one of his neighbors
to mind their own fucking business. As usual with me and Tristan, it was a
lovely evening.”

Molly was busting up laughing now. With
my
eyebrow raised and my arms folded I waited for her to
calm down. She apologized again as she wiped the tears from her eyes, “I’m
sorry…I’m just thinking what fun it must be to live in that building.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “It’s not all
that,
trust me.”
I
was lying. The
sight of him fully clothed set
my
soul on fire. Molly
acted
like
she didn’t hear that anyways.

She went on to say, “I heard a lot back when he was
famous about rehab and all that.
I
mean, I didn’t
really hear it, but I read a lot of those teenage rags they sell at the
supermarket. Who knows how much of it is true.
 
I
did always wonder, especially in a case like
his where he’s so talented, what makes someone think the drugs are more
important than everyone and everything else in their life. You kind of wonder
what the trigger is for some people, you
know?

“I do know, from experience.”
I
didn’t talk about my past much, but I trusted Molly. “My first really serious
boyfriend died a couple of years ago.
I
was
devastated.
I
started doing a lot of coke, getting so
wound up that I’d have to take pills or smoke a lot of marijuana to come down.
I
was a mess. The trigger for
me
was his death…but the drugs quickly took control. Then the coroner’s report
came back and
I
found out that he’d overdosed on meth;
I realized then that I was hurt, but if I lived, I’d get over it.
I
didn’t want to die, so I told my parents what was going
on; they helped me find a rehab facility. Thank god for their support. It was a
good place and
I
learned a lot. I wonder sometimes how
someone like Tristan could have gone to facilities like that so many times and
still choose to use.”

Molly put her arm around
my
shoulder and gave me a quick squeeze. “Wow, I’m sorry for your loss, Molly.
That had to be tough. Good for you though, cleaning up your act—you’ve got a
lot to be proud of. As far as Tristan goes, maybe whatever was driving him to
use was still a problem when he got out of rehab. It’s about forgetting things
and being numb right? It’s easy to not use when you don’t have to deal with the
situation, but if you put someone right back into it, well, you know. You used
because you didn’t want to feel the pain your boyfriend’s overdose caused you.
You were able to find a way to cope with that and you moved on. He has to have
something in his past, or even something that’s still going on now, that still
hurts him, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,”
I
said. “I guess
it’s easy to look in from the outside and think someone has everything and
shouldn’t have a worry in the world yet have no idea what they’re really going
through. I try really hard not to judge people, but sometimes it’s easy to
forget that.”

“I also read stories about his parents mismanaging
his money and giving him pills. If that’s all true, it’s
really
sad
. It sounds like he didn’t have any kind of support system growing
up. You sound like you have great parents. My family is
pretty
good
, too. Tristan’s family doesn’t sound so put together. That is, if
what you read in the gossip columns are true.” Molly shrugged her shoulders.
She had some good points.

“Yeah, it is sad.”
I
suddenly felt like a terrible person.
I
had judged him
based on some paraphernalia I saw on the floor of his apartment.
I
should have stopped and talked to him.
I
should have given him a chance to talk to me.
I
had
run away from a guy who, more than likely, really needed a friend. Molly had
made some
really good
points. Maybe if he had some
support, he
wouldn’t be so messed up
. Maybe
I
was too worried about myself and what I’d gone through to
be a good friend—or any kind of friend at all.
I
needed to rethink walking away from him.
I
suddenly
wondered how I would feel if I read about his overdose in the paper someday and
I hadn’t even offered him a friendly ear to talk to.

 

CHAPTER
TWO

TRISTAN

It was the night of round five.
I
was filled with nervous energy and having a hard time sitting still. The
traffic in the waiting room was getting thinner and
I
was glad there were fewer talentless idiots to deal with.
I
felt like I was ready for it.
I
’d written my own song
and the band had done a great job of playing the music I’d written and helping
me tweak a few parts so it all pulled together more smoothly. I wished that it
was
all I had on my mind.
I
couldn’t stop thinking about Elly and what had happened the last time I saw
her.

She had looked at
me
when I
walked in.
I
think she expected me to say something to
her about the other night.
I
had plenty to say that
night if she’d come back, but it was a moot point by then.
I
could admit that I got a little freaked out when she just left like that.
I
even went back out into the hallway one more time, hoping
she came back. I saw the elevator sliding closed and I thought it was
her
so I yelled out her name a few times. That attracted the
attention of
my
nosy ass neighbors. Mrs. Stromboli had
already gotten a sweet show and the rest of them wanted some of it now.
I
was still butt ass naked, but I didn’t give a fuck. The
people that lived in that building were nothing but trash anyways.
I
turned to walk back into my apartment and I saw the man
who lived in the apartment next door to me glaring at me through a crack in his
door.
I
kicked the door before I went back inside and
told him to “Mind his own fucking business.” I didn’t give a fuck if they liked
me or not; at least three times a week I had to listen to him and his old lady
fighting or the chick across the hall having multiple, loud orgasms…while her
husband was at work. Fuck ‘em all.

I
’d
stormed back into my apartment and closed the door, wondering why it bothered
me so badly that Elly had walked out. It was true that she was the best piece
of ass
I
’d ever had, but I needed to remind myself
that she was most definitely not the only one. Hot chicks who liked to fuck
were pretty much a dime a dozen, and sitting in the waiting room backstage,
I
thought I’d just found another one.

This girl was twenty-two; she had blonde hair that
hung down to her waist, a nice round ass, and massive tits. I remember seeing
her the first day of try-outs and thinking I wouldn’t mind tapping that ass
while I had my hands wrapped up in that silky mane of hers.
I
hadn’t done anything about it yet because I’d been focused on the contest and
busy fucking Elly every chance I got.

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