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Authors: Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

Tags: #multicultural, #interracial, #rock star, #bwwm, #substance abuse, #rocker angst romance, #female rocker, #rocker girl

Superstar

BOOK: Superstar
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Superstar

 

 

Roslyn Hardy
Holcomb

roslynhardyholcomb.com

Superstar

Smashwords Edition Copyright May 2014 Roslyn
Hardy Holcomb

 

 

All rights reserved. This copy is intended
for the original purchaser of this e-book only. No part of this
e-book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or
electronic form without prior written permission from Roslyn Hardy
Holcomb.

 

Cover Artist: Whit Holcomb

 

This e-book is a work of fiction. Though it
might refer to historical events and actual places might be
mentioned, the names, characters, places and incidents are either
made up by the author or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, or locales is completely coincidental.

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
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and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work
of this author.

.

Chapter One

Thad opened the door of the art gallery and
took a quick peek inside. Just as he suspected, it was crowded as
only these celebrity bashes could be. So many people in glittery
formal wear it dazzled his eyes. After a moment’s hesitation he
walked through the door. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t
even consider coming to such an event, but his bandmate’s wife was
throwing the book release party for her best friend. There was no
question of being a no-show. She’d have his head. He had no
delusions that he was invited for his sparkling personality;
celebrity presence meant media attention, and media attention would
help her friend sell books.

He looked around, admiring the way the white
walls of the gallery, which were designed to frame the priciest art
in the city, seemed to do the same for some of the most famous
people in the country. Bryan, lead singer for his band, Storm Crow,
was playing an acoustic set in an alcove and much of the crowd had
migrated in that direction. It didn’t take him long to locate
Callie and her best friend Tonya, they were standing back a bit
from the crush of the crowd. Callie was hugely pregnant and wearing
a drapey dress that made her look like an earth goddess. Tonya’s
dress was closer fitting and showed off her elegant figure in a way
that definitely got his attention. As if that was necessary. He
knew everyone thought he had a crush on Tonya and he supposed he
did. Certainly if he thought he had a chance at all, he would’ve
made a play for her long ago. Unfortunately like everyone else she
still saw him as the gangly boy who joined a rock band when he was
much too young. He’d once hoped she’d want to be play Demi Moore to
his Ashton Kutcher, but that had never happened. What they had was
a mild flirtation that they both enjoyed. The kind you have when
you know things will never go any further. Damn. He made his way
toward them. The sooner he let Callie know he was there the sooner
he could leave.

“Hi, Thad,” Callie said as she gave him a
hug, at least as much of one as she could manage considering the
size of her belly. “You’re looking good. So glad you could make
it.”

“You knew I wouldn’t miss it,” he said to
Callie, watching Tonya. She was always beautiful, but tonight her
face was lit up with excitement, her cheeks flushed a dusky hue.
But her eyes were troubled. He wondered what was going on.

Tonya extended a hand and he used it to pull
her into his embrace.

“Congratulations,” he said, pausing to
inhale her fragrance. She always smelled wonderful, like warm a
warm sunny day. He wondered if it was some delicious fragrance, but
suspected it was just her.

“Thank you, and thank you for coming,” Tonya
said.

Thad had only been with them for a moment
when a buzz started across the football stadium sized room.

“Isn’t that Sioux Dupree over there?” he
asked, pointing to the young pop star whose wild mane of cherry
Coke colored hair made her stand out even in this crowd.

Tonya looked at Callie. “What on earth is
she doing here? For that matter what’s she doing out of rehab?”

Callie laughed. “Supposedly she’s been clean
for a while. She’s taken to following Storm Crow around. I think
she wants to collaborate with them. Maybe open for the next
tour.”

“Say what? Her music is nothing like Storm
Crow’s,” Tonya said, a frown marring her smooth brow.

“Apparently she has a new sound or gig or
something. I don’t know all that much about it. Bryan won’t talk to
her, which is why she’s following him around,” Callie said with a
dismissive shrug.

“You’re the only woman I know who wouldn’t
worry about a beautiful young pop star following her husband
around,” Tonya said.

“Bryan could’ve had a pop star each day of
the week and two on Sunday if he wanted. He chose me instead. I’ve
got nothing to worry about. Come on, I’ve got more people for you
to meet,” Callie said.

Their conversation was relegated to the
background as Thad became aware that Sioux was making her way
toward them. And if she was coming to him she could want only one
thing.

“Hi Thad,” Sioux said as she turned him away
from Callie and Tonya. He paused as a brief
frisson
of
awareness sizzled along his skin where her wildly tousled hair
brushed over his bare arm. She looked good tonight, her short
cream-colored leather skirt showed off her toned legs to their
advantage while the bright orange halter-top did the same for her
arms and shoulders. The color radiated like a jewel against her
sienna hued skin. Her hair was wild and free tonight, almost
overwhelming the daintiness of her heart shaped face.

Thad sighed as he looked down at the petite
singer. “He’s not going to talk to you. You really need to stop
stalking him this way.”

“He’ll talk to me if you come with me,” she
said, looking up at him with luminous brown eyes. Thad shook his
head. Surely she wasn’t crying. He’d never understand her obsession
with his band.

“Nope, he’ll just be pissed at me, too,”
Thad said.

“Come on, Thad. I promise it won’t take more
than a minute,” she said her eyes becoming impossibly more
doe-like.

Thad sighed. They’d been here before. He
knew the persistent little manipulator wouldn’t leave him alone
until he did as she asked. He waved goodbye to Tonya and Callie and
took off with Sioux close on his heels. He weaved his way through
the crowd with Sioux behind him until they finally reached the
alcove where Bryan was playing. Bryan sat in a straight back chair,
his favorite Fender Mustang guitar on his knee as he strummed one
of the lullaby songs off their new album. As always he had the
crowd transfixed and almost silent. He and Sioux stood back until
he finished the song. Though he had collaborated on the song and
usually played lead something about the way Bryan sang it tugged at
his heart. He could just envision the devoted father rocking one of
his beloved babies to sleep to the tune. When it became apparent
the other man was taking a break and the crowd began to drift away
Thad walked over to him.

“Hey Bryan, you got a minute?”

Bryan’s smile immediately evaporated when he
saw whom Thad had with him.

“Sioux. Thad, how’s it going?” Bryan said
with a wary glance.

Sioux’s smile lit up her elfin face. “Hi
Bryan. Wondered if you listened to that demo I sent you.”

Bryan looked up at the ceiling. “I told you,
we don’t need another opening act on this tour.”

“I know you already announced Crystal Clear.
I was just thinking that maybe I could do a couple shows, just here
in the States,” Sioux said.

“Tell you what, why don’t you talk to our
manager, B.T.?” Bryan suggested. “Look, I need to take a smoke
break.”

Sioux practically jumped out of her skin in
excitement while Thad stared in astonishment at Bryan’s rapidly
retreating back as the other man headed toward the exit doors.

“Did you hear what he said?” she asked
grabbing his arm.

“Don’t get too excited, Sioux, Bryan
probably told B.T. to give you the brush-off.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Well for one thing, Bryan doesn’t smoke,”
Thad said and then he sucked his teeth in annoyance. The way her
face fell made him feel as though he’d kicked a puppy. “Sioux, why
are you doing this?”

“I’ve always wanted to open for Storm
Crow.”

“You were in the biggest girl band of the
past decade. Now you want to be an opening act? It makes no sense.
Besides, didn’t you give up music?”

“After my last trip to rehab, you mean?” she
asked looking into his eyes with a directness that belied her pop
princess reputation.

“Well yeah.”

“I haven’t given up music. I gave up being
Sioux Dupree.”

Thad frowned. “Wait. Isn’t that who you are?
If you’re not Sioux Dupree who are you going to be?”

“I’m going to be me, but not
her
anymore. You know the whole stage person. Designer clothes. Huge
entourages. That whole thing. That’s not me anymore. I don’t think
it ever was.”

Thad frowned, thought about exploring the
subject further, then decided to leave that topic alone. He was
less likely to end the conversation wanting to jump off the nearest
bridge. When dealing with Sioux the crazy could sometimes get that
deep.

“I’m thirsty,” he said when he spied a bar
not far from the alcove. Sioux walked with him over to the bar
where he ordered his favorite beer while she sipped on a sparkling
water. “So do you need the money, or what?” he asked.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re too blunt?” she
asked with another pointed look.

“Sure. But it’s the best way to find out
what I want to know.”

“No. I don’t need the money. I was with
Honeychile for most of my life. I made a ton of money and my dad
took good care of it. And me.”

“Did he really?” He couldn’t keep the
skepticism out of his voice.

“No child star horror story here --well
other than the obvious one. Yes, I’m a drug addict. Yes, I crashed
and burned rather spectacularly and my parents shipped my strung
out ass off to rehab and kept doing it until it took. But no, money
is not a problem for me and never will be. I’ve got more than
enough for the rest of my life.”

“So, what’s up with stalking Bryan? Other
than the obvious, I mean.”

She leaned against one of the large concrete
pillars that were scattered throughout the former warehouse. Even
whitewashed, they gave a gritty edge to the stark white space.
Sioux pursed her lips. “I always wanted to play rock music. And I
always loved Storm Crow. I learned to play listening to Storm Crow
and would practice every chord, every note to the point that my
parents would hide my guitar just to get a break from the noise.
Your posters are all over my room. I have whole libraries full of
Storm Crow Fake Books.”

“So why didn’t you? Play rock, I mean.” He’d
known this woman for two or three years, but had never known she
wanted to be a rock musician. It was like that every time he saw
her. He always discovered something new. He couldn’t help but be
fascinated by the layers.

“My dad. You know Honeychile was his third
group, right?” Thad nodded and she continued, “Well, when I told
him I wanted to sing, he said he could make me a star of a girl
group, but he didn’t think he could make me a rock star. And that
was that.”

“Your dad made you be in Honeychile?” he
asked. Against his will, his mouth turned down in distaste. He’d
met lots of stage parents over the years and almost all of them
were abusive jerks screwing up their kids’ lives to make a
comfortable living for themselves.

“No. No. That’s not how it was. I was a kid.
I wanted to be a star. I didn’t want to bang around playing little
clubs and coffee houses. I wanted what my mama had. Huge arenas.
Glamorous gowns. Magazine covers. Lights. Entourage. I guess I
thought I’d let them down by wanting to be a grungy rocker. Hell I
don’t know what I wanted,” she said shaking her head.

“I guess not. You were what, twelve?” he
asked.

“Ten when I started singing with Honeychile.
Twelve when we won Sing. Sing. Sing.”

“Yeah, I was eighteen when I auditioned for
the band. I can see why it would be crazy at ten. What were your
folks thinking?”

“You can’t really blame them. My mama did
the same thing and she was fine. Her parents did push her to be a
star. They were dirt poor, though and her talent was all they had.
My mama knew how it felt to be pushed and she didn’t want that for
me, so they didn’t do it. They didn’t do it at all. They’re good
parents, I was just fucked in the head. Me being an addict had
nothing to do with Honeychile. Well besides, giving me access to
more money than was good for me, of course.”

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