Page 4 of Rock Star

“She was stoked about us headlining at Glastonbury,” I sighed. We were scheduled to perform at the world-renowned outdoor music festival at the end of next June, after the tour’s London finale. I stared at the guys and, even now, even after everything that had happened, I’d have given anything to lose myself in a cocaine induced euphoric haze. We were due a meeting with our drugs counsellor this afternoon, then tonight we’d go out, get hammered, find ourselves some hook-ups.

At least booze and pussy weren’t off the agenda…PhoenixMy phone vibrated in my purse just as I got home. I stared at the caller ID and my heart skipped a beat.

Jake Stanley was calling me.

I answered with trembling fingers, “Hey,” my voice sounded nervous to my ears.

“We’d like to offer you the job,” he said brusquely, “pending blood tests to show you’re clean of drugs.”

“Wow!” A big smile spread over my face. “Thanks. When do you want me to start?”

“I’ll send one of our team over at nine tomorrow morning to take you to the clinic. They’ve said they’ll fast track the results. Our driver will bring you straight here afterward, and CM’s attorney will talk you through the paperwork. Once you’ve had it approved by your own legal adviser and signed the contract, provided your blood is clear, you can start immediately. The boys are eager for you to rehearse with them.”

“Awesome.”

“It will be good to have you on board,” Jake said warmly.

He disconnected the call and elation rocked through me. I literally pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Crazy laughter bubbled in my throat, then Dad called out, “Phoenix, is that you, sweetie? Mom was asking for ya,” and I came down to reality with a thump.

Mom was suffering from leukemia and her treatment had wiped out my parents’ savings and now there was nothing left… they’d even had to stop renting our beautiful family home. Dad had given up work to look after her and the three of us lived in an old Pico Blvd two-bedroom apartment. To say it was depressing would be an understatement. The roar of the highway outside. The nicotine-stained walls from previous tenants. The strippers in the club below. Urgh!

Getting the gig with ChiMera would allow me to help pay off some of my parents’ debts. My ambition to make it as a star wasn’t entirely for my own ego. If I made it big time, I’d buy them a nice house near where we used to live in Pasadena.

A girl can dream…

I dropped my shoulder bag by the coat stand and went through to our tiny living room, where Mom was sitting watching a daytime soap. She tilted her head and smiled at me. “Did they offer you the job?”

“They did,” I said, perching next to her on the lumpy sofa and kissing her cheek. Her skin was parchment thin and dry and warm. Too warm. Did she have a temperature? I hesitated to ask.

Clearly catching the concern in my expression, she said reassuringly, “I’m fine, sweetie. So happy for you. And proud…”

“Me too,” Dad echoed from the kitchen. The door was open; obviously, he’d been listening while he prepared our lunch. “This is the start of great things for you, mark my words.”

I kissed Mom again and caught the scent of her illness, the scent of hopelessness. Chemotherapy had not only killed off a number of her cancer cells, but it had killed her love of life. She never left the apartment these days, preferring to watch TV all day in her nightwear. She was too young for this, only forty-five, but she looked much older. What had happened to her was so unfair. Unfair to her and also to Dad.

The disease hadn’t just eaten away at my mother, but also at my father. He’d become a recluse, only going out sporadically to buy our meagre groceries with the money I earned from waiting tables. Mom’s leukemia had nourished itself on Dad’s love for her and had also bled him dry. He was a shadow of his former self.

I went into the kitchen to give him a hand. Not that there was much to do. We lived off plain pasta most of the time, and Dad was draining it into a sieve before adding a small amount of butter and a morsel of grated cheese. Mom needed more variety in her diet, but we couldn’t afford it. Could barely afford the rent in this crappy place.

I leaned against the counter. “Are you sure you guys will be ok while I’m touring with the band for two months?” I repeated the question I’d asked Dad before I’d auditioned, although I’d doubted that I would be offered the position.

“Sweetie, we’ll manage fine.” He’d injected a note of confidence into his voice. “As long as you call us regularly and fill us in on everything you’ll be doing, we’ll be so excited for you it will make a wonderful difference to our lives.”

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