Between a Rockstar and a Hard Place Read Free Page B

standing in the same
room as that yucky looking needle.

Chapter Five: I put a spell on you
     
    Another
taxi journey and I’m back at the hotel. The crowd of fans have been moved on
from outside the hotel now that it’s getting late, so I’m unlikely to ever see
my dress again. Dylan will quite literally pay for this.
    Dylan
and Misty were going to have a drink, so the bar is my first stop. The place is
packed with beautiful people – mainly famous faces – because everyone involved
in the gig today is staying here tonight.
    I
push my way through the beautiful people, and accuse me of stereotyping if you
like, but I’m going to hazard a guess that Misty is as odd looking as her goth
gal pal, so I’m looking for someone who looks like they’ve been attacked with
felt-tip pens and a stapler.
    I’ve
scoured the whole room, but all I am seeing are the usual, “beautiful” showbiz
types and their entourages.
    ‘Excuse
me,’ I hear a male voice say as someone taps me on the shoulder.
    I
spin around to see Troy Reeves, and if I didn’t recognise him from his
successful solo career or his time on one of those terrible reality TV talent
shows, then I would still remember him because I interviewed him earlier today.
    ‘Hello,’
I squeak, unable to hide my surprise. He’s talking to me.
    ‘You
interviewed me earlier, right?’
    ‘I
did,’ I confess, suddenly worried I might have offended him.
    Troy
is your typical pretty boy. He’s tall, skinny and has dark curly hair that he
is constantly sweeping out of his eyes. I imagine he’s about the same age as
me, maybe a little older – mid twenties I’d guess. He has a huge female fan
base, although he’s a little more mainstream than Dylan so his fans are all
much younger. Don’t get me wrong, Dylan is a handsome man, but in a Robbie
Williams sort of way. He’s got that rough and ready, bad boy look and as far as
his figure goes, he couldn’t care less.  He’s not skinny, but he isn’t fat and
I don’t think he’ll ever care either way. It’s his don’t-give-a-damn attitude
that attracts the women and as long as the women are willing (or easily talked
round with a signed CD), he won’t be visiting the gym any time soon.
    ‘Yeah,
I remember your pretty face,’ Troy tells me, much to my surprise. ‘Although you
were wearing a hot dress earlier – not that I’m not enjoying all the leg you’re
flashing now.’
    I
can tell he’s joking, but with everything that’s happened in the past few hours
and the pressure to find Dylan mounting, I temporarily forget to keep my cool
in front of a famous person and even though I smile at his teasing, a single
tear escapes from my right eye. I quickly wipe it away, but the damage has been
done.
    ‘Oh
fuck, I’m sorry. I’ve got four sisters, you’d think I’d know better than to
make a joke about a girl’s outfit,’ he says, placing a hand on my shoulder, but
still keeping me at arm’s length in case I attack him or worse, cry on his
outfit.
    ‘Don’t
apologise,’ I insist. ‘I’m just having a bad day.’
    ‘Do
you want to talk about it?’
    Troy
actually seems sincere, but I know that he has better things to do than listen
to my silly problems about lost musicians and dresses. Against my better
judgement, I share my situation with him – instantly regretting it.
    ‘Dylan
was here not that long ago,’ Troy tells me. ‘Me and the boys from Beau were
laughing at him because he came in with some witchy looking girl.’
    I
try not to give too much thought to the fact that Beau are here. They’re one of
the hottest boybands around at the moment (and from the same TV talent show as
Troy) and I’m in actual love with all five of them.
    ‘You’ve
seen Dylan? Where did he go?’
    ‘He
went with that… girl. Looked like they were heading up to her room, she waved
her keycard in his face and he followed her like a puppy – or like he was under
a spell.’
    ‘I
don’t suppose you noticed her room