originally inspired by an Ingram Hill song
She studied his slouched figure. She wondered when the feelings entered her mind because she sure as hell didn't welcome them. She knew who he was with his fame and stardom and million fans, male and female, chasing after him. She knew who she was with her two jobs and little house outside the city and a few less than stellar relationships in her past. He was all long-legged sex and adorableness. She possessed average legs - the kind that reach from her ass to the ground- and tended to scare people. With her smile.
People said she always looked like she was plotting world destruction.
Sometimes they were right.
"Hey, Nick." Kicking herself mentally, she slouched down beside him.
"Yo." His voice lacked its usually mellow charm.
Rolling thoughts over in her head, she came to a decision. "Wanna drink?" She offered him an unopened bottle of Coke.
He studied his shoes, swinging carelessly over the side of the stage. He glanced at her after an extended silence. "Aren't you going to ask me what's wrong? Or at least try to cheer me up?"
Shrugging her shoulders, she twisted open the bottle and took a swig. "Nope."
"Nice. Real nice." He went back to studying his shoes.
"Oh. I'm suppose to be nice?" Not a new comment. But still. She was just a temporary worker at the club where his band was holding a few concerts. An intimate club tour with the hottest band in the country. Possibly the world. And she was stuck working odd jobs at one of the clubs to help make ends meet. It made her sorta laugh.
Sorta.
"I'm tired. Tired of the shows and the lights and media and the bullshit." He restlessly tapped his fingers on knees exposed by rips in his jeans. Jeans she knew from observation fit him like sin.
In her mind, that's what Nick amounted to. Sin in the flesh. She really needed to get laid.
"Aren't you listening?" His voice sliced through her mental review of all the possible booty calls. The list was fairly extensive but not particularly appealing.
She sighed. "No. I'm not listening. You want to not deal with this bullshit then stop. Run away. Or hide out for a bit. But don't whine to me about it."
Rising she let the Coke bottle dangle from her fingers. Really the Coke had been for him since she found it too sweet but she'd be damned if he'd ever know that. He watched her stand. "Where would I hide?"
"Don't you have friends who'd hide you?"
Tilting his head, he grimaced. "Nope. They'd all bitch at me for not reveling in my stardom." He actually rolled his eyes.
"Well. Sounds like a problem." With another shrug, she walked away.
Or started to when he grabbed her wrist. "Can I stay with you?"
.