CLASS ACT (A BRITISH ROCKSTAR BAD BOY ROMANCE) by Julia Gardener Page A
Authors: Julia Gardener
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demigod.
When Heath and the others walked onto stage, the crowd erupted with rapturous applause. They hadn’t even played a song and the crowd had gone insane. I could feel the vibrations from their jumping in my box seat.
I was lucky to be in the VIP section away from the crowd below. I don’t think I could’ve survived a minute in a mosh pit. I sat with the rich and well-connected. Most of them were executives from Sterling Records’ American branch. I decided to sit back and listen to them play their first song.
“…using tender words to salve my soul…”
It was Double Damage’s first real hit titled Tender Words. It was a fan favorite that made its appearance in just about every concert. This arrangement was a bit modified due it originally being conceived as a duet between Howard and Heath.
“…your tears, burning their way down my cheek…”
The crowd was on their feet. Women wept as Heath sang beautifully. The song was about how a woman’s words could heal heartbreak. The rock star said each word as if he was whispering them directly to each individual woman in the venue.
It was a bit cheesy but I couldn’t help but tap my foot to the beat. The band may have had fights with each other in the backstage. However, they worked as a team when it mattered the most.
Heath may have struggled with schoolwork but he was a born showman. He moved onto the next piece which involved him playing a guitar. The man was as skilled with an instrument as he was with a microphone.
“…the only thing left is cold ashes in the tray…”
With casual ease, he simultaneously played and sang. I didn’t know how he had such a strong, clear voice after years of hard drinking. Maybe, the drinking was what gave his voice such a sense of command.
The rock star looked like a Greek demigod descending from the heavens. In a large telescreen, I could see the luster of his sweat-stricken skin. His eyes were closed as if caught in the act of making love. The sweat of his face fell down his neck and onto his exposed chest.
If his voice drew in women like Greek sailors to a siren, then his body sealed their faith. Like a siren, Heath sang and sang. The rock star performed like it would be his last show.
You would have never guessed that man could be an arrogant jackass. You would have never known that most adolescents could read better than him. Or that he was an orphan who had dealt with years of emotional and physical abuse.
Song after song, Double Damage mesmerized the audience. The bandmates may have been difficult with each other backstage but they brought it here. Ryan, Dave, and Tyler backed up Heath all the way.
There was a woman sitting next to me. She was a daughter of a millionaire who bought her way into the VIP section. Heath had reduced her to tears. Her expensive looking mascara was utterly ruined from her bawling.
I couldn’t blame her.
Heath’s sheer virility made me hot under the collar. I crossed my legs like I needed to waddle to the bathroom. I felt as if the man was giving me lap dance in public. It was strange to think of a student this way.
I was here to teach him.
I wasn’t here to be seduced by him.
I was so lost in his performance that it was a shock to me when it finally ended. I felt exhausted as though I had run a marathon. My mind reeled from my first rock concert.
With the encore finished, I followed the other VIP members to the backstage. It was one of the perks of buying a VIP ticket. Or, in my case, being a contracted worker for Sterling Record.
I didn’t know whether all rock concerts were like this or Double Damage was simply extraordinary. I had always been more of a fan of operas and classical music. They were elegant if boring affairs. They didn’t have the sheer energy of a rock concert. Or the
When Heath and the others walked onto stage, the crowd erupted with rapturous applause. They hadn’t even played a song and the crowd had gone insane. I could feel the vibrations from their jumping in my box seat.
I was lucky to be in the VIP section away from the crowd below. I don’t think I could’ve survived a minute in a mosh pit. I sat with the rich and well-connected. Most of them were executives from Sterling Records’ American branch. I decided to sit back and listen to them play their first song.
“…using tender words to salve my soul…”
It was Double Damage’s first real hit titled Tender Words. It was a fan favorite that made its appearance in just about every concert. This arrangement was a bit modified due it originally being conceived as a duet between Howard and Heath.
“…your tears, burning their way down my cheek…”
The crowd was on their feet. Women wept as Heath sang beautifully. The song was about how a woman’s words could heal heartbreak. The rock star said each word as if he was whispering them directly to each individual woman in the venue.
It was a bit cheesy but I couldn’t help but tap my foot to the beat. The band may have had fights with each other in the backstage. However, they worked as a team when it mattered the most.
Heath may have struggled with schoolwork but he was a born showman. He moved onto the next piece which involved him playing a guitar. The man was as skilled with an instrument as he was with a microphone.
“…the only thing left is cold ashes in the tray…”
With casual ease, he simultaneously played and sang. I didn’t know how he had such a strong, clear voice after years of hard drinking. Maybe, the drinking was what gave his voice such a sense of command.
The rock star looked like a Greek demigod descending from the heavens. In a large telescreen, I could see the luster of his sweat-stricken skin. His eyes were closed as if caught in the act of making love. The sweat of his face fell down his neck and onto his exposed chest.
If his voice drew in women like Greek sailors to a siren, then his body sealed their faith. Like a siren, Heath sang and sang. The rock star performed like it would be his last show.
You would have never guessed that man could be an arrogant jackass. You would have never known that most adolescents could read better than him. Or that he was an orphan who had dealt with years of emotional and physical abuse.
Song after song, Double Damage mesmerized the audience. The bandmates may have been difficult with each other backstage but they brought it here. Ryan, Dave, and Tyler backed up Heath all the way.
There was a woman sitting next to me. She was a daughter of a millionaire who bought her way into the VIP section. Heath had reduced her to tears. Her expensive looking mascara was utterly ruined from her bawling.
I couldn’t blame her.
Heath’s sheer virility made me hot under the collar. I crossed my legs like I needed to waddle to the bathroom. I felt as if the man was giving me lap dance in public. It was strange to think of a student this way.
I was here to teach him.
I wasn’t here to be seduced by him.
I was so lost in his performance that it was a shock to me when it finally ended. I felt exhausted as though I had run a marathon. My mind reeled from my first rock concert.
With the encore finished, I followed the other VIP members to the backstage. It was one of the perks of buying a VIP ticket. Or, in my case, being a contracted worker for Sterling Record.
I didn’t know whether all rock concerts were like this or Double Damage was simply extraordinary. I had always been more of a fan of operas and classical music. They were elegant if boring affairs. They didn’t have the sheer energy of a rock concert. Or the
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