Stricken Desire (2 page)

Finally the show is over. I can’t say I
didn’t enjoy the music because I did. But needless to say the
experience as a whole was I-
need-to-take-a-cold-shower-and-sanitize-myself worthy. I have a
feeling I will spend the next two days showering the sweat and
female crotch smell out of hair. Yuck!

“Hey Em!” I hear a familiar voice yell my
name. I’m outside the venue after pushing through the hordes of
crazy fans. I need to get to my rental car but it’s going to take
hours to get out of this parking lot.

I turn my head and I see Stacy alone running
towards me.

“What are you doing out here? I thought you
wanted to meet the band?” he’s out of breath. Even panting my best
friend is beautiful. Going on thirty and still looks like he’s
twenty one. Lucky bastard.

“After all of that I should fucking kill
you.” I screech smacking him hard on the arm.

“It wasn’t that bad was it?” A dirty little
smirk washes across his sweaty face.

“Was it that bad? Are you serious? You did
this on purpose didn’t you?” I put my hand on my hip for
effect.

Laughing loudly he says “Well I know you need
to loosen up a little so I thought a night in my world would help
with that.”

I roll my eyes and smack him again, harder
this time.

“Ouch Em, it can’t be that damn bad” he adds
rubbing his reddened arm. Serves his ass right.

“Well when you live in my world of books and
coffee and T.V shows that don’t consist of naked woman, the smell
of sweat, BO and rotten crotch. This is so not sanitary.” I say
rubbing my hands on my skirt trying to cleanse the night away. But
I can’t help but think about that nasty brunette behind me pressing
her sweaty boobs against my back. Oh shit I think I might actually
vomit. I cover my mouth and take a deep breath again.

“I’m sorry Em I thought you might like the
full experience.” He shrugs.

“I forgive you. But don’t do this again
without warning me. I know you’re lose and fancy-free. But I’m just
not. I may not be a prude but there’s a fine line between being a
prude and having to endure what I just did. Panties hitting the
stage like a damn waterfall. One even landed by my foot because
somebody couldn’t aim. After meeting the band I am so going to have
to shower.”

Wringing his arm around my neck to pull me
into a hug, he plants a kiss on my forehead.

“I promise. Come on I want you to meet the
band. There’s an after party at one of the hottest clubs in the
city and I want you to come with.” He looks me up and down and
shakes his head with obvious disgust. “But not wearing that.”

“What’s wrong with this?” I sweep my hand
down the side of my skirt suit. I think it’s appropriate. Guess
not.

“First off you’re not an accountant you’re a
PR slash co road manager to a very famous rock band. You can’t
dress like that anymore unless you want to get made fun of and
stand out like a sore thumb.” He scolds.

“Then what am I supposed to wear?” I frown. I
can’t look that bad. “If you tell me fishnet stockings and crop
tops I am going to hit you in the balls. Then castrations is next
on the list. ”

He laughs again, tugging me in closer as we
walk my arm wrapped around his lower back, headed to the infamous
Stricken tour bus.

“I’ll help you pick some clothes out. But
before we go in I need you to at least take out that damn bun and
that coats gotta go. This way you’ll look more like a hot miniature
teacher instead of an accountant.” He winks and I pinch him hard on
the side. He has no fat on his body so it’s just skin I can grab
onto. He doesn’t even flinch. What a bastard!

“I may be a miniature woman. As you call me.
But at least I have some fashion sense. What is up with those
jeans? Were they meant to look like a hobo wore them for a year and
then sold them to you?” I smile big with lots of teeth. Two can
play at this game.

“I have you know, I bought these jeans just
like this.”

“Well you overpaid. I could go to the
goodwill buy a pair for a dollar and run them over with my truck a
few times and they’d still be more stylish then those.” I smirk
seriously.

He pinches me on the neck and I squeal loud.
Drawing attention to us walking in the back of the outdoor
amphitheater where the bus is parked.

The bus is huge and black with silver
accents. I can’t help but be in awe of it.

“Now, do it now.” Stacy says pointing to my
outfit. I roll my eyes again and stick out my tongue making sure he
can see my expression.

I take off the coat and he takes point and
tugs my hair out from its rather sexy chignon. Guess he doesn’t
think it was sexy, but I do. But oh well. My red hair falls in soft
waves over my shoulders.

“Is this better?” I whine running my fingers
through my hair. It’s damp with sweat.

“Much.” He smiles and takes my hand and
inside the bus we go.

The place looks even bigger inside than it
does outside. The first thing I see is a huge wrap around red
leather couch. The kitchen is sizable for a bus and it’s all state
of the art stainless and black. I’m jealous. Can lights illuminate
us from the ceiling and a giant flat screen TV is plastered on the
wall. Walking further in Stacy has yet to say anything to me. We
walk between a row of six bunks. Three on each side with red
curtains for privacy and then in the back is a sizable bedroom and
bath. Total luxury.

“So who sleeps here?” I ask pointing into the
modern bedroom.

“Johnathan does. He’s the lead singer so he
get the room. I have a bunk as does Duncan, Price and Keith. You
Miss Emily Bronwyn will be sleeping in the bunk just below me.” He
explains pointing to the middle bunk on my right. A bunk oh
joy!

I can hear a bunch of noise coming into the
bus deep voices speaking over the next. But I can’t see anyone,
Stacy’s standing right in my line of sight. Grabbing my hand again
he pulls me in tow into the living room. Where stands all four band
members and two rather slutty women in tight clothes and breasts
about to fall out of their glittery tops. I resist the urge to roll
my eyes at them.

“Hey Stacy we weren’t disturbing you and your
guest were we?” the man I recognize as the drummer asks him with a
wink.

Stacy chokes like he’s got something caught
in his throat. Man am I that terrible to think he’d sleep with me?
I let go of his hand. He’s offended me. Some best friend he is.

“No guys this is Emily. My new Co road
manager.”

“Assistant.” I chime in.

“You hired a chick to work with us?”
Johnathan the lead singer asks him. I swear it’s like I am not even
in the damn room right now. Fucking men.

“Yes. I did. I told you guys that, if you
would have listened to me. I’ve known Em nearly my whole life and
she will be helping me wrangle the four of you.” He points to them
all one by one.

Johnathan chuckles and I’m insulted again.
Jesus can this introduction get any worse?

“She’s just a kid. Look at her, how she could
help?” he looks me up and down like I am the worst thing he’s ever
laid eyes on. “Does she even know the first thing about being our
manager? Or Co manager? Whatever the fuck.” Johnathan says his tone
sticky with acid.

Man, he is a dick. What did I ever do to him?
I’ve just met the damn guy and he already thinks I am too young and
inexperienced. Fuck that. Fuck him! Not literally.

“I’m twenty four for your information and I
am standing right here. If you have something to ask me you can
talk to my face. It would be most appreciated. And yes I have some
experience. I graduated NYU with a bachelors in Public Relations. I
think I can handle it.” I sass.

Man, I’m being a total bitch. But I refuse to
be treated like some half ass woman because I’m short, look young
and have a vagina.

“Oh she told you.” The one guitarist
chuckled. Then the entire band laughs and Stacy looks at me like I
just hit him in the face with a book. I shrug. He should know me
well enough to know I will not be treated less than I deserve.
Hello, that’s why I stay single. Men are just a cluster fuck
waiting to happen. Man, I have a trucker’s mouth. Well my dad is a
trucker so I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

“Listen short stack.” Johnathan says taking a
step towards me. Standing nearly toe-to-toe. Hot damn he’s tall and
well I’m short. But he’s got to be taller than my dad maybe six
five or maybe he just appears that way because his body is so
built.

“What?” I add placing my hand on my hip. Yep
that’s right I’m a badass. A short one but I can hang in the big
leagues. Bring it on you big misogynistic ass-wipe. I can’t help
but crack a crude smirk.

“If you come and stay here, living on a bus
with a bunch of dudes. You’ve got to get one thing straight. We
have cocks. We fuck hot chicks, drink, fuck some more and we’re
loud and sloppy. If you can’t handle it I suggest you hop the next
flight back to wherever it is you came from and go back to your
little sweet life with puppy dogs and cracker jacks.”

Stacy and the rest of the band are watching
this whole damn thing play out. I am half tempted to cry because he
is being so mean. But I suck it up and I am so down with this. If
he wants to be a dick I will show him I can take it. I’m no weak
woman. Bring it on!

I take another step forward. I can smell him.
He smells so damn good like cigarettes, spicy cologne and sweat.
What a heady combo. Yum. Oh no! I better stop that right now. I
hate this prick! Remember that Em!

“Listen.” I blurt firmly with an attitude and
poke him in the chest hard with my finger. Oh my god! It’s like
this man is made of rock. Not rock and roll but the sedimentary
kind. “I don’t care who or what you fuck. I’m not here to play
mommy. I’m here to do my job. Which frankly I know I can do and I
WILL be good at. Just because I don’t have a penis doesn’t mean I
can’t do this. Be as loud and party as hard as you want. That’s
your MO, not mine. Now get the fuck out of my way so I can go get
my luggage and join your sorry ass on this bus.” I push him again
and he doesn’t move so I slide out beside him and out the bus door
I go. I am so pissed I think I could spit. On him would be even
better.

Stacy comes running out of the bus behind
me.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demands
just as he grabs my arm and pulls me against him. I looked up into
his lovely blue eyes. He’s blazing mad.

“You’re shitting me right? You let him talk
to me that way and expect me to bend over and take it up the ass?”
I push him away and follow the path out to the parking lot.

I snatch up my bag out of the back and roll
it back to the bus where Stacy is outside waiting for me.

“I’m sorry.” He says and sounds like he means
it.

“For what part?” I sass, letting go of my bag
and crossing my arms over my chest.

“All of it. Johnathan might me right you’re
not cut out for this lifestyle. I have been so desperate to find
someone to help so I can go see my mom, that I didn’t think about
what you’d have to deal with here.“ He gestures with his head
toward the bus. Blonde hair falls into his face. He pushes is back
and tucks a few strands behind his ears.

“I maybe a book reading, coffee drinking,
quiet gal most of the time Stacy. But I can do this. Johnathan
doesn’t scare me. I can handle a dick head. I spent months with a
boss trying to fuck me. I think I can handle four rock stars and my
best friend. I’m here as much for you as I am for myself. I have to
prove to myself that I accomplish something this challenging. Stop
worrying about me and just let me do my damn job. Just promise to
keep me from sweaty boobs pressing against my back is all I ask.” I
chuckle and give me a sympathetic smile.

I know Stacy has been going through a lot
with his mom’s diagnosis and it’s progressing rapidly. The last
time we spoke on the phone he was terrified that he wouldn’t be
able to see her again before she forgot about him. I don’t know
what I would do in his position it’s a real hard one. His mom was
abusive or that’s what I would call it. She calls it parenting. I
call bullshit. But she’s all he’s ever had. I was lucky enough to
have a mom and dad my whole life. Pretty awesome ones at that.

Going into the bus I take a shower in the
standup stall. The black and white bathroom is stuffed with tons of
male products. Whoever thought men don’t use as much products as
women are full of shit. Hair gel, a blow-dryer, deodorant,
colognes. A bunch of nudy magazines are tucked into the chrome wall
magazine holder along with a few sports illustrated and game
informer. Not to forget the icing on the cake that’s sitting on the
floor in front of the vanity, it’s a huge box of condoms and when I
say huge I don’t mean like a twenty pack. I’m talking a Costco size
box of Trojans. If they screw that much maybe they should do a
commercial for Trojan. I might have to look into that.

I only wish I knew more about men and why
they do the things they do. They are weird creatures. I grew up
with my mom and me, with my dad out of on the road a lot. It was
all flowers, makeup, manicures, chick flicks, cooking and books. I
never learned about sports or cars or anything manly. Except from
Stacy who schooled me more about sex and football than I’d never
need to know.

Standing with a towel wrapped around me the
door to the bathroom flies open.

“What the hell!” I yell and look who is it
the drummer all ready to go out for the night.

“Sorry.” He smiles totally checking me out. I
pull my towel tighter around me.

“It’s okay.” No it’s not but I want to be
polite to him. Thankfully he didn’t get a full show. A towel
doesn’t matter. Does it?

“Hey D, you get em man?” I hear somebody say.
I think its Price.