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I callSky between the awards and being dragged into the VIP after party. She'd waited up to talk to me before bed, and to give me a blow-by-blow account of what she thought of the performances at the awards. Hearing her smart comments is a breath of fresh air in the suffocating night. Escape is possible, now I have Sky.
The dimly lit, red-carpeted room fills with other musicians and their entourages. As usual, I bump into a stream of stars and we gush about each other's work, enthusing how awesome to meet up with each other again. I don’t have a fucking clue when or where I last saw most of them, probably when I was high.
Danni-K, the latest darling of the music scene attracts hangers-on like flies. A drunken Jem turns his full attention to her, and her security team is wary. A black-suited guy twice as broad as me and a good few inches taller sticks to her side, throwing warning looks at an oblivious Jem. If there's one thing Jem likes better than multiple groupies, it's sharing a bed with squeaky-clean stars. Singers, actresses, heiresses... He loves them all and his reputation helps, not hinders.
Having fulfilled my smiling and socialising duties, I slump on one of the black leather benches in a corner. Blue Phoenix get whatever the fuck they want, as organised by Steve, so the metal table holds several of my choice in beer. I grab an open bottle and drink deeply.
My head pounds, as the alcohol mixes with the medication in my system. Steve's around somewhere—I need to arrange a car so I can get the fuck out of here. Fed up with a stream of girls attempting to engage their bodies with mine, I stare at my Converse and the plush carpet. Right now, I'd give anything to be snuggled on the sofa in Broadbeach with Sky.
Someone plonks onto the seat next to me. "Dylan, man, have you met the beautiful, fuckable Danni-K?" Jem asks, a little too loudly.
I glance up at the starlet; I don't think she heard. Beautiful, yeah. Fuckable? He can work on that one; I'm not interested. Sleek black hair surrounds her heart-shaped face, her huge brown eyes heavily made up and the dark red lipstick contrasting her mocha tone skin. Clueless about fashion even after all these years, I suspect whoever created the tight blue dress slit to her thigh will get a few orders after tonight.
"Hey, Dylan," she says and smiles.
"Hey. Nice performance tonight."
Flicking her hair over her shoulder with a hand containing enough rings to rival mine, she sits next to me, Jem forgotten about. "Thanks. One for everyone to remember."
A theatrical show with enough semi-naked dancers to fill a strip club, and a raunchy number with The Five, the latest boy band sensation. I suspect she's trying to lose her innocent image. She’s hanging with Blue Phoenix, so she must be. The Five are here now, teen boys covered in groupies. Wait until they learn... if they last long enough before their star burns out.
I give her a noise of agreement and swig my beer, scanning the room for Steve. Where the fuck is he?
"Hey! D-K. How's about a picture with The Dylan Morgan," says Jem, pulling his phone out. "Just for us—no press."
I snap my head up. Jem points his phone in our direction ready, and there's a glint in his high eyes worrying me. He's lying. Shit, let her say no.
"Sure," she says in her Southern accent and places her head on my shoulder.
"Aww, c'mon, you must wanna get closer to him than that?"
What the fuck?In a stunned moment, Danni-K rests her skinny behind on my knee and wraps her arm across my shoulders.No. Fuck.Before I get a chance to move, her hair sweeps across my face as her lips meet mine. Instantaneously, Jem's phone camera flashes.
"Holy fuck!" I yell.
An alarmed Danni-K climbs off my lap, lips pursed. "Sorry, not you—that dickhead," I say to her, aware her security is watching the obnoxious Dylan Morgan who had his hands on their star. "Give me the fucking phone, Jem!"
Jem holds his phone high in the air and laughs at me. "I promised I'd fuck things up for you."
