Bad For Me (My Forbidden Rockstar)
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Authors: Dara Bowman
Bad For Me
My Forbidden Rockstar
by
Dara Bowman
Kindle Edition
Bad For Me
My Forbidden Rockstar
Written by Dara Bowman
Copyright
©
2013 by Dara
Bowman
All rights reserved. Without
limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or
transmitted , in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of
both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either
the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author
acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products
referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission.
The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or
sponsored by the trademark owners.
The following story contains
mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult
readers.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Annie
“Thanks so much for coming by.”
Her voice is too cheerful, and sickeningly sweet.
I force a smile as I make my way out of the stifling
recording office, and once I’m out of view, I stalk across the baking parking
lot to my car.
This is such bullshit!
Another rejection, and the stupid girl barely even listened
to my demo tape.
I toss my raggedy blue bag into my equally beat up car. The
door opens with a loud screech, and I plop down onto the scorching hot seats.
As I put the key in the ignition I close my eyes and turn the key, praying that
this damn car will start.
C'mon, C'mon, C'mon.
Of course it won't turn over.
“You have got to be kidding me!” I scream into the steering
wheel.
If I don’t get out of this parking lot soon, I’m going to
lose it. I’ve had about as much as I can handle for one day, and what I really
need is to get home, put my sweats on, and pour myself an extra large glass of
wine.
Or vodka.
Vodka would definitely do the trick.
I try the key again and after much protesting, my car
finally roars to life. I throw it into reverse to get out of the parking spot.
I back out, barrel around the corner, and once I’m on the main road, I feel my
shoulders relax and the stress begins to slowly melt away.
My car shakes as it moves sluggishly down the street and I
know that I’m going to have to eventually give in and allow my father to buy me
a new car. I’ve been holding my ground for as long as I possibly can. Everyone
else takes advantage of my father, but I try so hard not to. I love my father
for who he is, regardless of his mountain of money, and I want him to know
that. I don’t like lavish gifts, and I try to accept things only when I really
need them.
Unfortunately, I think I’m going to need to accept his help
with a new car soon, which makes me feel even lousier right now.
To add to my pissy mood, LA traffic is at its finest. We're
practically at a crawl and now my car is beginning to overheat.
I take stock of my shitty day so far.
My mother called me in the morning to complain about my
father’s upcoming wedding. How my mother even knows these details, I’ll never
know. I swear she’s hired a private detective to follow my father around. Once
I finally got her off the phone, I had to rush around to get ready for my
audition.
It’s a record-breakingly hot day in LA, and my car has no
air conditioning, so I arrived at my audition looking like I had just ran the
entire way there. My carefully straightened auburn hair was thick and frizzy and
I had pit stains on my dress.
It was fantastic.
Not surprisingly, the audition was a nightmare, and I didn't
even meet with a record executive. It was just one of their assistants; a clear
indication that I was not a priority by any means. The girl I met with was a
frothy little thing with a tan that was way too dark. She also happened to have
bleached-blonde hair and big fake breasts. How unfortunate. The disingenuous
little skank barely even listened to my tape before she ushered me out of the
room and thanked me for my time.
Whatever.
And now my car troubles.
I sit in traffic and look around at all the nice cars. Part
of me feels envious, because I know if I wasn’t so damn stubborn, my dad would
buy me any car I like. He would probably weep with joy if I told him I wanted a
Mercedes, Lexus, or something similarly ridiculous.
I look over at a couple in a cute little white convertible.
That looks nice. Maybe I’ll ask my father for one of those and then I will
really be breaking all my rules.
Since I have nothing better to do, I let my mind wander.
I wonder if I should give up my dream of working in the
music business. My father has been so supportive of me while I purse my
passion, but my passion hasn’t seen much success. At twenty-four years old,
I’ve spent the last few years auditioning and waitressing, and I've only been
able to land an occasional singing gig in local clubs. My father insists that I
don’t need to wait tables, but I can’t let him pay
all
my bills, it's
hard enough accepting what he already does for me.
As if she knows I’m thinking about my father, my mother
calls. Again.
“Hi Mom.”
“Hi Annie, honey. How was your audition?”
I grit my teeth. “They passed. No surprise there.”
“Oh honey, I’m sorry.” She pauses. “Do you have any more
auditions lined up?”
“No. I’m going to have to call Jane when I get home.”
Jane is my semi-agent, and lately she seems to be less and
less interested in working with me.
“Sweetheart, have you thought about, you know, giving it
up?” My mom asks delicately.
“I don’t know, Mom. This is what I feel like I’m meant to
do. What else would I do?” I ask fiercely.
Music is my life. Ever since I was three years old, I’ve
been singing. I don’t know how to do anything else.
“But maybe you need a change of pace,” my mom hedges.
I know where this is going.
“Maybe you should come check out the music scene in New
York?” She asks hopefully.
I get ready to bite back at my mom, but I give up, I'm
feeling too defeated today. She only wants what’s best for me, and I have blown
off so many of her invitations to the East Coast because of Sid.
Sid.
Just thinking that name sends a dagger through my heart, and
then causes it to explode in fiery anger.
Maybe my mom’s idea isn’t so bad. Maybe I do need a change
of pace. Maybe New York would be good for me.
“I don’t know, Mom. Maybe...Maybe you’re right. Perhaps I
should get out of LA and check out a new music scene.”
My mom squeals with glee so loudly that I have to hold the
phone away from my ear.
“Really, Annie? Oh, I would love it!” she gushes, “I have
plenty of room here so you could stay as long as you like, and we would have
such a great time! I can show you all over the city! And I know that Sheldon
would just love to finally get to meet you!”