Rock My World (10 page)

“Oh really?
Well, my aunt is with your dad now.
At his hotel.
I’m
sure she’ll clear it up for me. And you can read about it later.” Sadie stalked
off, her ebony cape of hair waving behind.

Felicity
threw the ball in the air, serving three aces in a row, nearly decapitating her
competition.

“
Woah
!” The unsuspecting girl on the other side of the net
shouted.

“Sorry. I
just remembered I have a thing. I’ve got to go.” Felicity stormed off the court
and straight up to Trey.

“Can we go
now?” She said, shaking visibly. He gave her a worried look and grabbed their stuff.
He didn’t ask what happened as they wound up the trail in complete silence, his
long legs not quite keeping up with her furious pace.

Chapter 16

I met with Alex Anders, front man of the
multi-platinum band,
Phazee
Crux, at his hotel.
 
The band is just over a month away from
wrapping up their first worldwide sold out tour. Alex is the
brains
behind the music: writing, arranging and producing every track. Today, he’s
casual and down-to-earth in his jeans and t-shirt, eating a pizza, not looking
concerned by the claim some are making that he’s riding on his father-in-law’s
famous coat tails.

RS:

“So Alex,
how does it feel to have your first headlining tour sell out?”

AA:

“It’s
awesome. The guys and I have worked so hard for so many years for this. It just
feels like validation.”

RS:

“It’s got
to be a nice way to answer your critics who said you only got here because you
married Shawn
Jax’s
daughter.”

AA:

“You
know, I try not to concern myself with what the critics say. I make music
because I can’t not make music
. It’s who I
am.
Not just what I do.’

RS:

“But you
must have known what people would say when you included a cover of
‘Speak’—Shawn
Jax’s
biggest hit. Or was that
just calculated controversy?”

AA:

“As much
as I’d like to take credit for being so calculating, I have to admit the reason
was a lot simpler than that. Shawn wrote that song about my wife, Jenna, and I
wanted to pay tribute to them both. It was actually recorded as part of a
documentary on him that will come out early next year. I thought it was a
horrible idea to put it on the album, but the label, the band, and our manager
outvoted me.”

RS:

“Well,
whosever idea it was, it obviously worked. Your album has sold over 11 million
copies since it came out and you’ve been on a sold out tour ever since. What’s
life like on the road?”

AA:

“It’s
amazing. The difference between
being
on the road now
versus when we were starting out is … night and day. Instead of sleeping on
floors and in the van, we’re in posh hotels, flying on a private jet. Life on
the road is grueling but satisfying. We have the best fans in the world that,
night after night, remind us why we do what we do. But we all have friends and
families at home we miss while we’re out and there’s nothing like sleeping in
your own bed. I think we’ll be ready for the break when this tour wraps up.”

RS:

“And the
rumors?”

AA:

(Laughs)
“Which ones?”
  

RS:

“That
there’s trouble in paradise? That you and Jenna are splitting up? That you’ve …
found someone new?”

AA:

“What? I
hadn’t heard that one yet. Yeah, everything you read is true (scoffs). Tabloids
these days sure are imaginative. And by that I’m being sarcastic. Just to
clarify. I’d like to read a story where I get to be an alien put here to steal
the secret of our survival on Earth and get to start an intergalactic war or
something.” (
laughs
)

RS:

“So you
watch a lot of movies on the road?”

AA:

(
laughs
) “Yeah, I guess I gave away the big juicy secret.”

RS:

“Thanks
for taking time out of your busy schedule to talk to me. Good luck with the
rest of the tour.”

Alex stood up from the couch, shaking hands with
his interviewer. She looked about his age, maybe a couple years older, with
short black hair.

“Thanks,
Rose. That it?” he said, hoping to keep this short.
His
natural wariness of reporters was heightened by the behind-the-scenes cameraman
filming from the corner
. He had no idea if the rumor she mentioned was
an attempt to get a juicier story or if she’d heard something. He hadn’t spoken
to either Jenna or
Airika
since The Incident and he
couldn’t squelch his uneasiness with Rose’s brazen leeching effort. She, on the
other hand, wasn’t hurried at all, casually gathering her things.

“I think my
niece goes to school with your daughter,” she said. He doubted it.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she
said, surveying his expression, “I think they even have some classes together.
Sadie. That’s my niece.”

Alex
recognized the name but couldn’t place her. He made a mental note to ask
Felicity next time they spoke. From her tone he could tell she was inferring
something more but he had neither the interest nor the patience to decipher it.

“Well it’s a
great school. I’m sure you’re very proud of her,” he said.

She lingered, a sly smile playing at her lips.

“Sorry to
cut this short but I’ve got to get to sound check,” he lied.

She seemed like the type to search his garbage as
soon as he left the room and he had no intention of leaving her to it.

“Right, of
course. Don’t let me keep you,” she said, still not moving. He had no choice
but to pick up his jacket and head toward the door. She followed him to the
elevator, slipping in just in time to ride together, leaving the cameraman out
in the hall. When the doors closed, she slipped her card in his back pocket and
looked him straight in the eye.

“If the
rumors are true, call me.” The elevator dinged and she strutted out through the
lobby. Alex stood, mouth agape, feeling like the girl in one of those horrible
sexual-harassment-in-the-workplace videos. He had a bad feeling he would see
her again.

He rode the
elevator back up to his floor, thinking about Jenna. He needed to talk to her.
Her phone rang and rang. When she didn’t pick up, he hung up without leaving a
message. How could he fit everything he needed to say into a 30 second message?
An open guitar case sat on the bed. He picked it up, sunk back on the bed, and
started noodling around, playing nothing in particular. The chords and melody
said what he couldn’t articulate.

Chapter 17

Jenna woke
up, barely registering the sound of the Weepies singing, “The World Spins Madly
On” as the room started spinning around her in her attempt to get vertical. It
was too much; the momentum forced her back into the warm abyss.
Where is that coming from?
She wondered.
Then she remembered her impromptu solo dance party last night. She’d thought
(hoped) that was a dream. She must have left the music on when she passed out.
Ugh
. This is why she didn’t usually
drink. At least none of her neighbors could have seen her through all the trees
surrounding the cabin (or her fabulous new curtains). By the time the song
finished, she managed to tolerate sitting upright.

Then it hit
her. Again. Alex.
Airika
. The anvil was back, settled
squarely on her chest. It allowed for the minimum intake of
breath
—just
enough to keep her alive, aware of her misery and aloneness. She couldn’t
formulate the grief into actual thoughts. It was a completely physical
reaction. Her body felt leaden, immobile from the weight of her burden. It had
been three days since she’d left him, and during the handful of hours she’d
spent out of bed, a nagging thought kept forcing its way into her head:
Who am I without them?

The second
the thought popped in, she pushed it aside, hating herself for allowing it in
the first place. Of course she wasn’t defined by her relationships. That would
be pathetic. She was a twenty-first century woman, not some fifties housewife.
There was so much more to her than that. Wasn’t there? She was a mother, for
one.
Felicity’s doing just fine without
you
, a voice in her head chided. She was also a daughter. It’s not like she
could help being the daughter of someone famous.
Although that
didn’t help prove her point.

How did
other people define themselves? She thought about what people said when they
introduce themselves. What it would say below her name on a Hi My Name Is _____
name tag
. That’s it!

All at once
it hit her: she needed a job. Well no, not a job—a profession. Most
people go to college and get jobs in order to make money. She didn’t need
money. She was a wife and mother by the time she graduated high school, so
she’d never seen the point in all that in-between stuff. But now she saw there
was another point: self-validation.

She’d spent
her entire life surrounded by a crowded bubble of people who loved and cared
for her, sheltering her from the big bad world. But now, those same people had
popped the bubble just in time for her to feel the weight of the world crashing
down upon her.

The thought
was sickening, the introspective train too much for her hangover and severe
lack of caffeine. She made a mental note never to drink again, before
scavenging the cupboards for something greasy to eat. Nothing. Being a health
nut turned out to be a terrible idea when in need of hangover food. The situation
needed to be remedied—fast.

Twenty
minutes later, she and Zach took their breakfast bagels, dripping in cheese and
bacon, back to the car, and drove down to the snowy boat ramp. They parked,
taking in the beautiful frozen landscape between bites.

“Thanks for
picking me up,” she said.

“I’m always
down for food.” He took another monster bite. “Dude, you’re finished already?”

She blushed.
Under normal circumstances she would spend the rest of the day at the gym
burning off the countless carbs and fat she just ingested.
Ugh, the gym!
The mere thought of it made her stomach churn. Or was
that the bacon?

“So how are
you holding up?” He asked, making the kind of intense eye contact that always
made her squirm.

“Fine,” she
lied.

Then,
realizing that playing the role of the strong capable one who solves everyone
else’s problems was what got her into this mess in the first place, she decided
to come clean.

“I’m
devastated. I don’t know who I am anymore. Without them, I feel like ... Like
there’s no reason to get out of bed. You know?” She couldn’t bring herself to
look at him. He stayed silent. She was sure he was trying not to laugh. Or else
planning a quick escape from all the scary female emotions.

“Do you have
any hobbies?” He asked. She thought about it.

“Not really.
Everyone else thinks all I do is work out and shop.”

Silence again.
“What do you to shop for?”

The question
surprised her.

“I shop for
clothes for myself, or Felicity. And I love to buy home décor.” He appeared to
mull that over, his hand scratching the stubble along his jawline.

“What was
your last job?” He asked.

She took a deep breath. She hated that question.

“Modeling.”

“That’s the
only job you’ve ever had?”

She nodded.

“Well,
there’s your trouble.”

She looked
him over for signs of condescension, but he seemed totally serious. He must
have sensed her confusion.

“If you’ve
never really worked, then you’ve never had the chance to get a promotion, or a
thank you from a boss, or the simple satisfaction of a job well done.”

She laughed.
“You can’t say modeling isn’t a job, but I get where you’re going with this. Although
I’m pretty sure my crisis isn’t based on never being told ‘thank you’.”

He made a
face that said, “How do you know if you’ve never done it?”

“Okay,
here’s your homework. When I take you home, you’re going to make a list of
everything you like to do.
Anything that could be a
profession.
Then you’re going to give it to me and I’m going to help you
find a job. We’re
gonna
put you to work, Jenna
Jax
!” His enthusiasm was infectious and she found herself
looking forward to it. She didn’t even wince when he used her maiden name.
At least not visibly.