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the backstage party
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Affair with the Rockstar the backstage party had been crazy
The backstage party had been crazy.The after-party at the Dubai was crazier.For one, there were more people. In fact, there was already a crowd in the bar by the time we arrived.Two, backstage security at the Staples Center had more or less admitted people (and by that, I mean women) in an orderly manner. Some would come out, more would go in.Here, anybody who wanted to walk in off the street could.And had.In fact, I think every groupie at the concert had tweeted or Facebooked ‘Derek Kane afterparty at the Dubai!’ because it seemed like half the female population of LA – or half the model-actress-wannabe population of LA, anyway – had shown up.And three, there was a lot more booze available at the Dubai’s bar.When we first got there, there had to have been 500 people inside. It was basically standing room only. The hotel staff quickly realized they had a problem and installed a velvet rope outside, but that only slowed the numbers going in. It did nothing about the people alre
Affair with the Rockstar ten hours after I'd
Ten hours after I’d arrived at the Dubai, I finally made my way up to my room. It was small but lovely – beautifully decorated, with a luxurious king-size bed. There was a large glass window that looked six stories out over the Sunset Strip, with all its lights and cars and revelers on the sidewalks, even at 1AM. The glass was double-paned, though, so the room was quiet as could be, with no more than a whisper from the air conditioning vent.There was my bag, waiting for me in the middle of the room. I put it on a nearby chair, opened it up, and dug out my super extra-large t-shirt that I slept in. I stripped off my clothes and smelled them. Ugh – stale pot smoke. Same with my hair. Blech. I desperately wanted to slip into bed and just forget the entire last three hours had ever happened, but I couldn’t bear the thought of smelling like this, not one second more. I slipped into the bathroom and took a short, hot shower. The hotel’s exotic soaps and shampoos washed away my makeup and t
Affair with the Rockstar it was a long ass
It was a long-ass night.A long-ass, frustrating night.I laid awake, fitfully turning in bed for over an hour, replaying the scene over and over in my head.Fuck this.Him slamming me against the wall, kissing me, stroking me, tantalizing me – The stench of a dozen other women’s perfume – I’ve always wanted YOU, Kaitlyn. Just you.My final refusal – You want me? I’m yours. But YOU let me know.It all seemed like a dream.An incredibly hot, but incredibly disturbing dream.Why did I have to say ‘no’? Wasn’t that exactly the thing I’d fantasized about for years – him forcefully pinning me against the wall, taking me, ravishing me?I knew why I’d said ‘no,’ of course. The smell. The perfume. I couldn’t get past it.Why did he have to dance with those women? Why?Why did he have to flaunt it in my face?Why couldn’t we have just left immediately after the concert and come here?He could have been in my arms right now.He could have been inside me RIGHT NOW.I was so hot and bothered I
Affair with the Rockstar he was dressed in jeans
He was dressed in jeans, boots, a black t-shirt that hugged his chest, and his customary sunglasses.My heart leapt. I was so happy to see him that my whole body buzzed with anticipation – But a second after my heart jumped in my chest, it seized with fear.Our previous encounter last night in my room – temporarily forgotten because of Riley’s antics – reared up in my memory like some monstrous shadow.Derek seemed to have no such qualms, though. He just ambled over to the table, sat down between Riley and Ryan, and reached for a plate.He didn’t even look at me.It was like a punch to the gut.“I’m assuming that chick out in the hallway was yours, Riley,” he said as he piled on eggs and bacon.“Whose else would it be?” she snorted. “Nobody else in here gets any pussy.”“Jesus, Riley,” Ryan groaned, “I’m eating.”“See? He’s too much of a pussy to even talk about pussy. And don’t even get me started on Mary Jane over there.”She was obviously referring to Killian. He ignored her and k
Affair with the Rockstar despite my wounded
Despite my wounded pride at being told to butt out, I was soon captivated by the jam session. In total, they worked on three songs I’d never heard before. Each one was better than the last; the final one could have been good enough to be a single on the radio, even in its rough state.I kept that opinion to myself, though.Two hours passed, and suddenly Miles walked in. “Twenty minutes. In twenty minutes, you’re on the bus or my foot is up your arse.”The band members put up their stuff and retreated to their separate rooms. Derek slipped out before I could say anything to him.“He just hates criticism in any way, shape, or form,” a voice said behind me. “Can’t stand it.”I looked back. Ryan was standing in the doorway of one of the bedrooms.“It was actually pretty good, though,” I protested.“Yeah, well, for Derek, telling him he’s ‘pretty good’ is a half step above saying he’s awful. It’s amazing – the guy can handle all sorts of stuff getting thrown at him, but he gets bent out of
Affair with the Rockstar there was maybe
There was maybe ten seconds worth of silence.It felt more like two minutes.Then we both spoke at the same time.“Look, I just wanted to say – ” I started.“Aren’t you going to ask another question?” he said, overlapping me.We stopped and looked at each other.Then we both smiled – me shyly, him grinning.“You were saying?” he asked.“Um… I just wanted to say that I really liked your song. Back there in the hotel room. I wasn’t criticizing you or anything.”His smile faded. Between his mouth and his sunglasses, I couldn’t read anything about his expression.“So… that’s it,” I finished lamely.He sat there, silent, just watching me.“Aren’t you going to say something?” I asked, annoyed.He shrugged, then looked away. “You were right,” he said, and took another sip of scotch.“…what?”“You were right. The second and third verse need a lot more work.”I sat there staring at him. “You agree with me?”“Yeah.”“So why’d you bite my head off?”His lip turned up in the tiniest of smirks as
Affair with the Rockstar the concert was over
The concert was over and the band went backstage to shower. I didn’t get an invitation this time – in fact, I barely got any recognition that I existed. Derek just smiled faintly as he and the others walked past me, and then they were gone.I went backstage and waited.It was all the same as last night. The women waiting in line. The famous people, the rich people, the beautiful people. The rockers and the actors and the celebrities. The band showed up and things went crazy. Drink, food, drugs, alcohol.I kept to the periphery as more half-naked women threw themselves at Derek. The longer I watched, the angrier I got – not to mention more and more jealous with each passing moment. It felt like he was doing this to spite me – waving all these hot little boob-jobbed playthings in my face – And then I remembered ‘I Want You To Want Me.’A little voice in the back of my head whispered, You know, YOU were the one who threw him out last night.YOU were the one who spurned all his advance
Affair with the Rockstar we burst out the
We burst out the back, running like two kids in high school after the police have raided a party – delirious, screaming, laughing. We raced past startled crew members and out into the night.The amphitheater was set off by itself, connected by a small, winding road to absolutely humongous parking lots. We ran through the darkness, and when I began to stumble on my high heels, Derek stopped and hunched over.“Get on!” he ordered.“What?” I asked, confused.“Piggyback ride – come on, get on!”I jumped on his back, screaming, laughing, and he took off again for the headlights in the distance.It was almost an hour after the concert, and the last stragglers were leaving. We raced past cars, Derek running as fast as he could, carrying me like I was weightless, until we were almost to the end of the parking lot. There was a convertible up ahead with its top down – a beat-up, rusty Le Baron, probably 30 years old. Three college-age kids were in it – a male driver, a female passenger, and ano
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