Jett (5 page)

“I’m happy for you, Jett.  You’re doing so well for yourself.”

Her eyes clouded over with sadness, and she looked at me seriously.

“Don’t be.  It’s fucking hell.  This is no kind of life for anyone.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, I really am. I have some wonderful fans, but the price I pay is ten-fold.”  She stood up, now five inches taller than she was before.  “You’ll see.  It’s not all limos and champagne breakfasts.”

“I see.  Well, it sounds like we have a lot to talk about.  Is there anything I need to know before your show?”

“No.  The edge of the stage is lined with security that the venue provides, and I have Rex, my bodyguard, whom I am going to most likely be firing any day, now that you’re here.  He’s on the side of the stage.  In the meantime, you’ll be his boss.  I’ll introduce you.  For tonight, though, why don’t you just relax, enjoy the show, and hang out with me later?  You can start work tomorrow.”

“Well, that sounds nice and all, but I don’t think your stalker is going to be taking the night off.  I’ll start now.”

“Crazy Jack.”

“Huh?”

“Crazy Jack,” she said.  “That’s what I call this one.”

“This one? Well, fuck Crazy Jack.  He’s not getting near you.  From now on, I’m going to be glued to your side,” I said, looking down into her eyes.  She slid her arm around mine, and pressed her breasts into my side.  

“I like the sound of that, Colt,” she whispered up to me, the smell of whiskey on her breath.

A loud knock sounded at the door. 

“Five minutes, Jett!”  A voice called from the other side.

“Showtime!” she said to me, pulling open the door and pulling me with her down the hall.  As soon as we rounded the corner, she was surrounded by people, and her hand pulled out of mine.  I watched as one person attached a black box to the back of her waistband and another one put an earpiece in her ear.  

Sam was there, too, her clipboard still in hand as she muttered a long thread of instructions in Jett’s ear.  Her glasses kept slipping down her nose, and in between every sentence, she pushed them up frantically.  

Jett ignored them.  She was the most relaxed of all of them, and she smiled at me over the top of the crowd, winking before she was whisked away.

****

The next hour and a half passed in a blur of flashing lights and overly amplified guitars, raucous drum solos and Jett.  

Jett - sexy, hard, sensual, and incredibly fucking talented.  No wonder she was so popular.  She was absolutely fucking incredible.  She sang, she danced, she played the fuck out of her electric guitar, and more than that, she had the crowd eating out of her hand by the end of the first song.  And then she kept them there.  

She played with their emotions, moving from a monster rock ballad that had them swaying in unison with their lighters held high, a shimmering crowd of people singing at the top of their lungs, every word memorized, to a fist-pumping, rocking number that turned them into a frenzied crowd of screaming, rebellious, angsty rockers.    

By the time it was over, I was breathless. I was beaming at the stage, astounded that my old friend had become such a powerhouse of a performer.

During the show, I had made a point to make note of all the ways I could see someone getting close to Jett, and unfortunately there were a lot.  

When her encore was over, she jumped off the stage, and ran over to whisper in the ear of what I assumed was the bodyguard she had referenced earlier.  My assumptions proved correct when she pulled him over to me.

“Rex, this is Colt James.  He’s your new boss,” she said, as she grabbed my hand, and led me back to her green room.  Sam and a bewildered Rex followed us, with Sam sputtering a constant trail of compliments towards Jett.  

What an odd little bird of a woman
, I thought.  I looked over at Rex, and the look on his face told me I was going to have some trouble with him.  He was pissed.

When we reached the end of the hall where Jett’s green room was located, she pulled me in once again and I laughed as she slammed the door in Sam and Rex’s faces.  

“Wow, that’s not very nice of you,” I said, as she dried her face and neck with a towel and gulped down a bunch of water. She was panting, her breasts heaving under her corset, and it took all my willpower to look at her face.

“I have to do that, otherwise they won’t leave me alone.  Trust me, I’ve tried being polite.  They don’t get the message.”

“I see.”

“So, what did you think?” She beamed at me, and I shook my head.

“Girl, you were on fire! Do you do that every fucking night? I loved watching you perform. It was amazing, Jett!”

She threw her arms around me, catching me off guard, and almost knocking me off balance.  I caught her, and she kissed me on the cheek and pulled away.

“Thanks.  I’m glad you liked it.”

“I loved it.”

“Sweet.”  I watched as she looked around the room, located the bottle of whiskey and took a big gulp of it.

“Want some?”

“No, no, it’s cool,” I said.

“Oh, right, you’re sober, I forgot,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind if I do?”

“Of course not,” I said.

“Sweet. I gotta take a shower real quick.  Wait for me.”  

“Sure, okay,” I said, as she started removing her clothes right there in front of me.

“Hey!” I said.

“What? You’ve never seen boobs?”

“Um…well, I’ve seen plenty, but I’ve never seen your boobs. How about you go in the other room, especially if you wanna keep this professional,” I suggested.  If my cock could have slapped me right then, it would have.

She smirked, clearly pleased that she had ruffled me.

“Alright, if you say so…” she said, her voice teasing me as she wandered into the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open.  I could see everything in the reflection of the mirror.  I tried not to, I really did, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away as she pulled off her clothes, her muscular back and ass in full view for at least half a minute before she disappeared from sight and into the shower.

I groaned and ran my fingers through my hair.  Clearly, this was going to be an interesting gig.

****

The limo crawled through the crowd of frantic fans at the exit, some of them attempting to peer into the back seat, hoping for a glimpse of Jett.  

“This is fucking insane,” I said to Jett, as we sat in the backseat.

“It’s always like this.  Insane is a good word for it,” she replied.  She seemed to take it in stride, and I wondered how someone got used to something like this. 

We sat alone in the back of the limo, our thighs touching as we looked out the window.  Jett had poured herself a drink as soon as King closed the door of the car.  Now, she was sipping it and somberly watching the crowd stream by us.  As we made it onto the road, we began moving a little faster, and I was thankful when, after a moment, we had gotten past the suffocating crowd.

“So this is your life now, huh?” I asked. “What a trip, Jett.  Did you ever think it would turn out like this?”

“No, I didn’t.  My mom sure did, though.  After you left, she decided the singing and dancing lessons I was taking had worked well enough, and she made me audition for that ridiculous television show.  You know, Double Trouble?”

“Yeah, that’s the one where you have to sing and dance at the same time?”

“Yeah. Mom was obsessed. I let her push me, I wanted to please her.  She was awful if she didn’t get her way.  So I auditioned.  I never expected they would put me on the show.  But they did.  It was torturous.  Politics.  Back-biting.  Everyone was so greedy and nasty to one another.  I never expected to win, but I did.  And then everything happened so fast after that.  Sony gave me a record deal, and I thought Mom would burst from happiness.  It was fucked up from the beginning though.  They wouldn’t let me record my own songs, they insisted on telling me what to sing, and exactly how to sing it.  They told me how to do my hair, what to wear, what to say.  It was like I was their robot.  I hated it.”

“Damn, I had no idea, Jett,” I said, looking into those gorgeous green eyes as the world flew past the window behind her.

“Yeah, it sucked.  I didn’t want to do any of that bubblegum shit anymore, and when my contract was up, I refused to sign  another one.  Mom was pissed.  My manager, Seth, was pissed. Everyone thought I was crazy.  So, I told them all to fuck off and that I was quitting.  No more playing at all if I couldn’t play the shit I wanted to play.  By then, they were desperate, and they agreed to let me do one album of all my original stuff.  I think they did it just to humor me, because they thought it would fail.  But it didn’t.  I sold ten times more of that second album than all of the previous ones combined.  I got my way.  I got to be me. But now? It’s been years, and while I don’t have them forcing me to wear dresses and dye my hair blonde, they are forcing me to keep going.  The schedule is grueling, and never-ending.  I’m fucking tired, and I would give anything for a vacation.”

“So, why don’t you take one?”

“Guilt. The one thing the suits are right about is momentum.  You gotta keep the bus rolling, or the whole machine stops.  If the machine stops, hundreds of people would be without jobs.  They all rely on me to keep going.”

She sighed heavily, and leaned her head against my shoulder.

“It’s nice you’re here, Colt.  It’s nice to have a friend around.”

“I’m glad I’m here, too,” I replied, putting my arm around her and pulling her in close.

I kissed her forehead gently and she closed her eyes.

****

The crowd outside the hotel was almost worse than the one at the venue.

“Motherfucker!” I said, as we drove up to the front doors.  People were everywhere, pushing and shoving each other to get a glimpse of Jett, yelling for autographs or asking her to pose for photos, and on top of all of that, there was the paparazzi, dozens of men and women with huge cameras with even bigger flashes going off in our faces as we pushed past them all to get into the lobby.

I shielded Jett as best as I could, and wondered where the hell the Rex was.

We were whisked up to her room quickly on a private elevator, and within minutes, we were alone in the most luxurious hotel room I had ever seen. 

“Welcome to the penthouse,” Jett said. “I have a room for you reserved on the floor below.”

“Well, that was wasteful,” I said, as I strolled around the suite, taking it all in.  Everything was dark wood and chandeliers, and my leather boots sank into the plush white carpet with every step.  I was almost tempted to take them off, sure there was probably some motorcycle grease on the bottom of them somewhere.

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

I turned to her, and she watched me silently as I strode over to her, peering deeply into her eyes.

“Do you really think I’m going to be leaving you alone?” I said quietly.

She smiled softly, and shrugged.

“Alright, well, um…there’s only one bed.”  She looked almost shy, but I could see right through her.  If she thought we were going to be having sex, she was wrong.  Was she trying to seduce me?  It wasn’t going to work.  Fuck, it had better not work.  I had spent years fantasizing about Jett, but they were boyish dreams that I had no business revisiting.  The Jett in front of me now needed much more from me than a good fucking.

“Jett, you brought me here to do a job.  I’ll sleep on the couch.  A bed isn’t necessary.  If Crazy Jack got into your room once, then he’s planning on doing it again.  So, leaving you alone isn’t an option for me.”

“Oh,” she said, curtly turning away from me. “I see. Yeah, you’re right.  Business.”

“Yeah. So, um, where is Rex anyway? I thought he would be here.”

“Normally, he would.  But I sent him to do something else.  I figured if you’re with me, that’s enough.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.  With the amount of people still chanting your name outside, we might need more than one person.  I’m beginning to think I may need to call the club to send me another guy.”

“Well, we can figure it out later.  I have to get ready for this party tonight first.”