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I pivoted in time to see a man in a cut off leather jacket raising a bar stool and rushing at the rockstar. Time moved in a blur as I froze, watching with rapt attention. The man smashed Levi Stark across the face with a barstool, sending him spiraling into the crowd.
Shards of wood fractured into the air. Women screamed and men roared. Security emerged from the throng to break up the fighting.
Yet the music didn’t stop, and the lights continued to flare and spin.
An unbidden smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
Levi burst up from the churning fight with a wide grin slashed across his lips and feral delight glinting in his eyes. I paled at the crimson rivulets staining the white paint on his face.
“Jesus Christ on a cracker!” I yelped.
“Come on. Things will calm down soon.” My manager didn’t stop pulling until my feet obeyed my commands to move.
Raymond flew around the crowd, darting like a fly in a hurricane. Damien placed his hand on my shoulder and urged me to follow Raymond towards a door hidden off to the side of the stage. Two massive barrel-chested security guards allowed us through.
The compact dingy dressing room seemed like a closet compared to ones I’d visited before. The black walls were too close together and the dim lights over the vanity mirror weren’t bright enough to grapple the shadows. At least the painted brick muffled the unruly music and blocked the stench of cigarettes.
“I’ll go wait for the show to end to drag Levi back here. He might do one more song after this–er–interruption.” Raymond lifted his shoulders, bracing himself before and bolstering his resolve to step back into the madness.
Damien and I took opposite ends of the worn sable couch on the back wall. As soon as my bottom hit the leather cushion, I dropped my head into my hands. An irritated groan breached my lips. “This was a mistake. I don’t want to work with that crazy man.”
It wasn’t too late to leave. All we had to do was slip out the door before Raymond and Levi returned. With the riled-up crowd outside, Damien and I would vanish without a trace, and they’d be none the wiser.
“Diana, you haven’t written anything in six months. We need a new deal, and you know it.” Damien shifted his bulky frame to look at me. “Is this a great first impression, eh? No,” he admitted flatly.
“You can say that again,” I scoffed into my hands.
“But listen, this istheLevi Stark. You work with him, help him pump out a few new songs for his album, and we get the money. That’s all we need from him.”
“I’m really not sure about this. Did you see him out there? Skull face paint and jumping into a crowd fight. That edgy maniac is going to drive me insane. I already know it.” How did they expect my style of lyrics to work with Levi’s heavy rock image?
“His manager already agreed to the price. We just need to sign the documents.” My manager gingerly patted me on the shoulder, as if consoling a kid who dropped their candy.
“We couldn’t do this in a studio or an office?” I grumbled, then sat up to meet Damien’s worn-out expression. My shoulders sagged in defeat. It didn’t matter how much I complained.
“The big stars get their way,” Damien stated. His three decades of experience in the musical industry came out in the tense lines around his eyes.
“If he thinks his show is going to impress me, he’s sorely wrong,” I huffed, and lifted my chin. I’d worked in the industry for too long to let a performance influence me.
The doorknob turned, and I lurched off the couch.
Cheers and fading applause barraged the still air in the room. An unwanted heat coiled, tight and quick in my lower stomach as a charged energy rushed in, oozing from the towering rockstar dressed head to toe in ripped, gothic attire.
Two
“We won’t be here long, Dee, I promise. Just grin and bear it,” Damien whispered into my ear.
A second later Raymond slipped in through the door, caught in the rockstar’s shadow. Silence enveloped the room as the door clanged shut.
Easily the tallest man here, Levi towered over both Damien and Raymond. His presence darkened the room and sucked out all the air, causing my lungs to stop working. He marched into the dressing room with his hair dashingly disheveled and a red-dotted rag pressed to the fresh gash over his nose from the fight.
An infuriating grin lifted full lips that were painted to mimic a skeleton’s mouth.
“Hey, you must be D. Johnson. Good to meet you finally. I love the lyrics you write, man.” Levi looked straight at Damien and put his hand out.
Astounded by his assumption, my brows shot into my forehead before my features melted into a grimace. The temperature in the room must have dropped ten degrees from my offended spirit.
“Actually—” Damien nervously tugged at his collar and turned to me.
