Rock Star: Music & Lyrics Book 1 Read online

  The concert had gone well, if the screaming fans and the two blondes in his bed were to be believed, but it didn’t feel like that first tour. The first time he’d headlined a tour, he’d felt ten feet tall and fucking invincible. This time they’d taken his guitar away from him and tried to teach him some choreography. He felt like a damned fool and singing without his guitar just felt all kinds of wrong.

  He’d thought that by now he would have more control over his career but Rocksteady owned him for another album. Signing with Gina and Rocksteady had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but after his experience with this last album, he was wondering if he’d sold his soul. He had a bad feeling that his new sound was going to alienate even his most ardent fans, but no one at Rocksteady would listen to him. They wanted him to expand his fanbase beyond the loyal country fans, some of who had been supporting him since the Jacks & Nash days.

  But what could he do about it? They owned him and they were Rocksteady, surely they knew what they were doing.

  The flashbulbs blinded him as Frankie led him out the lobby doors and into a waiting limo. He waved and smiled, his trademark dimples on display and then he climbed into the car. Frankie held out two ibuprofen and a glass of water to him, which he took gratefully.

  “So there’s two girls in my bed—”

  “Taken care of,” Frankie said.

  Nate laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He had this meet and great to get through, sound check and then another concert. It was going to be a long fucking day.

  “You look like shit,” Gina hissed as he walked into the room.

  “Nice to see you too,” he said as he slid into a chair in front of a crowd of reporters and fans.

  He kept his sunglasses in place. It was a rock star move, but he didn’t give a shit. He didn’t want photos of his blood shot eyes and dark circles on the front cover of the tabloid mags. He settled into the chair, stretching his long, jean clad legs in front of him and he grinned at the waiting paps.

  “Running a bit late this morning,” one of the reporters said. “Rough night?”

  Nate chuckled. “I wouldn’t exactly say rough,” he said.

  “Some one keep you awake?” another reporter shouted to him from the back.

  “Now, now,” he said, “I’m not the kind to kiss and tell.”

  Nate had been linked with some high-profile women over the last year and a half. It had started as a promotional gig to raise his profile in the press and get his name out there. Most of the time he’d been bored out of his brain by the mindless starlets that only seemed interested in making sure the paps got their good side. Then, once he became more well known, he’d had a waiting list of women who wanted to date him… and fuck him. He was only a man and what man turned down free pussy? Nate had tasted the delights of fame; the free drinks, the drugs, the groupies, he’d done it all and he was still riding the wave.

  “What do you say to the critics that are saying your new album lacks substance?”

  He tried real hard to keep his smile in place, but he gritted his teeth and sat forward, trying to find the reporter who had asked the question.

  “It’s a new sound, sure,” he replied evenly. “And maybe something the fans aren’t used to hearing from me, but I’m sure if people give it a chance, they’ll love it.”

  “You only wrote one or two songs on this album,” another reporter stated. “Writer’s block?”

  “I don’t believe in writer’s block,” he said, keeping his voice even. “We brought in some new writers to help create the new sound and I’m really happy with the results.”

  He’d known these questions would eventually come. Gina had assured him that it wouldn’t be a problem and that he just had to spin it in a positive way. His true fans would follow him anywhere and along the way he might even pick up a few more. But if he didn’t believe in it, if he didn’t sell it to them, then they wouldn’t buy it.

  “A few of the fans were unhappy after last night’s concert. What do you have to say to them?”

  “My fans come first, always,” Nate said, meaning it. “I’m sorry they were unhappy, but I sang my heart out last night and I loved every minute of it. I have the greatest fans in the world and I know that maybe the new direction I’ve gone might take a bit of getting used to, but it’s still me and my fans will get that.”

  “What happened to the songwriter from your first album,” the reporter paused to look down at his notes, “Stevie Jacks?”

  Her name still shot arrows through his heart. He had kept tabs on her through Derek and knew that she was doing well for herself. She might not be a star, but she was working steadily. He knew, through Derek, that she was in demand for not only her backup vocals but also her guitar, keyboard and harmonica skills. And she had been writing a shit-ton of songs for other artists.

  “Stevie’s a very talented songwriter,” he said. “I’d love to work with her again if the opportunity arose.”

  It was probably the only true statement he’d made that day. The fact was that without Stevie, he felt like a fraud, especially now with this ‘new sound.’

  Gina rescued him from answering any more questions, ushering the press out and the fans in. He sat at the table and signed autographs, posed for photos, had countless women give him their phone numbers, shove their tits in his face and stole kisses. Frankie kept him hydrated and made sure he didn’t get mobbed by the line of desperate women that seemed to go on forever. There were tears and declarations of love and marriage proposals. He signed CD covers, magazine covers, autograph books, concert tickets, concert programs and boobs. Lots and lots of boobs. He really didn’t see the point of that, as it would eventually wash off. Wasn’t the point of getting an autograph so that you could keep it forever?

  When he asked one young woman just that, she told him that she intended to go straight to a tattoo parlor and get his signature tattooed on her tit. He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at that. She probably thought that it made her a super fan, but it made him a bit uncomfortable. Can you say stalker?

  It eventually came to an end, not soon enough for Nate, and he was ushered out to the car and whisked off to sound check for that evening’s concert. The reporter’s crack to him that some of his fans were unhappy with last night’s concert niggled at him. He knew it hadn’t been his best performance. He was still coming to terms with the new sound himself and he had to say he wasn’t completely sold on it. He pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen and jotted down a new set list. The musicians he worked with had all been on his last tour and they knew his songs as well as he did. With the new set list done, he pulled his phone out and shot it off in a message to the rest of his crew and then sent another one to his assistant, yes he had a fucking assistant, to get his Gibson to the arena. Fuck that choreography shit, he wanted to play his goddamned guitar and he wanted to sing his own songs.

  Chapter Nine

  Present Day

  Stevie felt sorry for Nate. She could tell he was struggling with working with them. He was used to just getting in the studio and playing or singing and she doubted that he’d ever had to argue the nuances of pitch and tempo with anyone before. It was probably partly her fault. In the years that they had played and written songs together, she had done all the heavy lifting. It was partly her need for control and partly because she didn’t think Nate was interested in the finer details of getting a song just right. She had done him a disservice, but in her defense, she didn’t think they would ever be traveling this road apart so she hadn’t seen the need to show him behind the wizard’s curtain.

  “Beer?” she said holding out a chilled bottle of IPA as a peace offering.

  “Thanks,” he said, pulling it from her hand and taking a swig.

  She sat down beside where he was slumped on the couch. His eyes were on Jace as he worked with Vanessa on the rhythm section. Vanessa twirled a drumstick in her fingers as she chewed gum and listened to what her brother was saying
. Jace could get very focused and intense when he was working on a song, but he always got results which was why she liked working with him so much.

  “Did you really used to spend this much time on a song before bringing it to me?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Jace.

  “I can’t say I was obsessive as Jace, but yeah. I always worked on the arrangement before bringing it to you.”

  He shook his head and took another pull from the beer bottle. “It was just dumb luck, wasn’t it?”

  “What?” She turned to sit sideways on the couch so she could face him.

  “My success, my platinum albums, my Grammy nomination. It was all just stupid, dumb luck. Here I was thinking I was some fucking hotshot, but really I was just a trained monkey.”

  “Hey,” she said, resting a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to look at her. She felt the shift of the muscles under his shirt and the warmth of his skin. He looked down at her hand before raising his eyes to hers. She had to swallow to make her throat work so she could speak. “Nobody’s saying that you didn’t deserve those,” she said, her voice thick. “What we’re saying is that there is more out there for you, if you really want it.”

  His eyes dropped to her mouth and she bit her lip in an attempt to stop her tongue from sliding along it, but his eyes still darkened and his nostrils flared. It had an immediate effect on her, seeing him look at her like that. She had dreamed of getting him to look at her like that for years and never thought it would happen. Now that she could see desire in his eyes, she was afraid. He could hurt her. He could break her heart just like he had in the past and she didn’t know if she would survive it this time around.

  “I want it,” he said, the rasp of his voice skittering over her skin like a caress.

  Her heart fluttered and she knew she was in very real danger of doing something she would regret, but oh, how she wanted just one taste of him. Instead, using every bit of will power she had, she let her hand fall away from his shoulder and stood shakily to her feet.

  “Want to run through the bridge one more time?”

  She saw the regret in his eyes before he shuttered it behind his professional mask. “Yeah,” he said.

  She walked across to the couch opposite the one where he was sitting and grabbed her acoustic. She closed her eyes and started playing, letting the music minister to her, soothing her tumbled emotions. She played the bridge through, singing softly and then went back and started it again, adding some small improvs that she felt added to the tune.

  “Wait,” Nate said, breaking into her reverie. “Go back. What was that you just played?”

  She played it through again and he stopped her again.

  “I like that,” he said. “I like that a lot.” He looked over to Jace, who was watching them intently. “What do you think?”

  Jace walked over and sat beside Nate. “Play it again Stevie,” he said.

  So she played it again, adding her voice to the mix.

  Jace was nodding and Nate was beaming at her.

  “Yes,” Nate said, “I want it just like that.”

  “I agree,” Jace said, passing the tablet over to Stevie. “Mark down the changes.”

  She did what he asked and then smiled at Nate. He looked like someone had just given him the key to the candy store.

  “You okay buddy?” she asked.

  “I just…” He shook his head. “I get it now,” he said finally. “How did you do that? How did you know to add those changes in?”

  She shrugged, embarrassed. “I heard them, in my head. Jace can look at a piece of music and just know how it is going to sound without even picking up an instrument, but me? I hear it while I’m playing or listening. Sometimes I hear something and I just know it needs a harmony or—”

  “Have you ever done that when you’ve listened to my albums?”

  She blushed and nodded, not looking at him.

  “Damn,” he said. “We would have made it, wouldn’t we? If I hadn’t said yes to Gina, we still would have made it.”

  She looked at him, her eyes searching his and seeing his remorse and regret for what could have been. “Yeah,” she said, “we would have.” And she knew in her heart that it was true. Nate had taken the first opportunity that he’d been offered, but she knew that if they’d held out a little bit longer, they would have found success as Jacks & Nash.

  “Let’s have a run through from the top,” Jace said.

  Twelve Months Ago

  “Hey Jace,” Stevie said, a pencil stuck in between her teeth and her face screwed up in concentration, “do you mind singing this with me?”

  Jace walked over to where she was sitting at the piano and sat beside her, reading over the sheets of music spread out across the music stand.

  “Is this for Lily?” he asked.

  She nodded, her eyes flitting across the music staff hearing the chords and melody in her head.

  “Yeah,” she said, “but there’s something…” she tapered off as she rested her fingers on the ivory keys and began to play. She began to sing and Jace joined her, their voices blending. She adjusted her voice to create a harmony above his and then she stopped and made a notation on the paper. She began to play from the top again, this time letting Jace take the lead and adding highlights throughout the first verse.

  “It’s a duet?” he asked when she stopped again to make notes.

  She huffed out a sigh, “Yeah,” she said again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it though. It’s nearly there, it’s just not quite…”

  “Move over,” he said, shifting on the stool to push her out of the way. “Let me play, you sing.” He looked over his shoulder. “Nadine, Nessa? Come in here a minute would you.”

  The two girls came into the rehearsal room and the three women gathered around the piano as Jace played. Stevie began to sing and the girls joined in. Stevie could feel it, it was right there on the brink, just out of reach. Jace changed a chord progression and the song fell into place like a jigsaw piece. She sighed into it, and felt it take hold. When the song ended they stood around grinning stupidly at each other.

  “Is that my song?” a voice from the doorway said.

  Stevie turned around and smiled at Lily Ames, superstar. She’d written a few songs for the country singer now and they’d built up a friendship. Some of the people Stevie had worked with flaunted their celebrity status, but not Lily. She was just like one of the girls when she was working in the studio with them and Stevie always looked forward to spending time with her.

  “It sure is,” Stevie said, walking over to give her a hug. “What do you think?”

  “You know what I’m thinking right now?” she asked and Stevie’s heart dropped a little. Lily didn’t hold back when she didn’t like something. “I’m wondering what the hell the four of you are doing working as session musicians instead of out there headlining your own concerts.”

  Stevie’s mouth dropped open as she stared at Lily.

  “You guys sound amazing together, why the hell aren’t you making a play for the big times?”

  The four musicians looked at each other, stunned. It had never crossed their minds to form a group, it had never even come up in their drunken discussions.

  “I, ah—” Stevie was genuinely tongue-tied. She had no idea what to say.

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing for a while now,” Derek said, walking into the room.

  “But—”

  “Look,” Lily said, talking over the top of her, “I love that song, but I want you guys to sing it. I want you guys to put a damn album together and come on tour with me.”

  “Are you serious?” Vanessa asked.

  “Honey, I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.”

  “But—”

  “I’ve got contacts,” Lily went on, “and you’ve never once hit me up for them, any of you. Why the hell not? You know that it’s not what you know but who you know in this business. Don’t you want more than writing songs for other people and pl
aying on other artists’ albums?”

  Stevie choked back the sob that rose in her throat. It was only what she had wanted for as long as she could remember, but then Nate stole her dream and she didn’t think she would ever get the chance again.

  “Let’s do it!” Nadine said, laughing and jumping up and down.

  Stevie looked at Jace and he shrugged and smiled.

  “That is, of course,” Lily went on, “if Stevie’s not too busy with her new senatorial candidate boyfriend.”

  Stevie felt her cheeks flush and she dropped her head. She hadn’t wanted to be on stage with Carson when he announced his candidacy, but he had dragged her up there and wouldn’t let go of her so she could’ve escaped. Now she had press outside her apartment wanting to know who she was and what hers and Carson’s relationship was.

  “What do you say, Stevie?” Nadine asked.

  Stevie looked around at the eager eyes watching her and she let out a whoosh of breath.

  “Let’s do it,” she said.

  “You still need to write me a song,” Lily said.

  “Of course,” Stevie said before hugging her. “Thank you,” she whispered into her ear. “Thank you for giving us this chance.”

  Lily’s arms tightened around her. “Don’t mention it,” she said and then released her and stood back, “until your acceptance speech at the Country Music Awards, then I want full credit for launching ‘Court’n Jacks’.”

  “Court’n Jacks?” Stevie asked, raising her eyebrow.

  “I love it!” Vanessa said.

  Stevie rolled the name around in her mind and smiled, “I love it too.”

  “Now get back to work,” Lily said as she turned to leave.

  “Where are you going?”