Rory vs. Rockstar

“I guess some people have all the luck in the world,” Rory sighed.

“If I had her luck, I’d be doing better things with my life than mimicking Barbie doll songs while prancing half naked around the stage.” Don continued, a half smile back on his face. “I remember back in the 60s and the 70s, it was all about the music. Nobody cared about PR or Instagram or whatever. It was all about good times and meaningful music that spoke to your soul. Since then, apart from the songs Arsen writes, no other music has truly spoken to me.”

Rory realized that Don was not just a manager of the biggest band in the world, but also someone who loved their music. Someone who cared about his clients, especially one of them.

“Arsen seems to be the perfect rock god from LA,” Rory remarked, and then blushed, wondering why she had said that out loud.

“Far from it. There is much more to Arsen Ford than people know. He is no degenerate rockstar born on Sunset Boulevard.” Rory wasn’t sure, but she had a feeling that Don was referring to Mickey and his lifestyle.

“If I am still a farm boy from Kansas, then Arsen is still the small town boy from Iowa—as much as he might dislike admitting it. But I admire that man. He has suffered far too many losses in life and has still come out on top. I just wish he would give himself some credit at times.”

Rory simply couldn’t put Arsen and “a small town boy” together. He looked and acted like he was made to be a rockstar since the day he was born. Everything about the man oozed raw sexuality, masculine dominance, and an unshakeable sense of confidence.

“Are you sure we are talking about the same Arsen?” Rory chuckled and Don laughed.

“Yes, my dear. That man has worked his way to the top and on the way, he has been a bartender, a roadie, and God knows what else. Anyone else would’ve given up halfway. He’s just having a tough time of late as he deeply cares about his music… but he’ll get out of this funk too. I will make sure he does.” There was a sense of determination in Don’s eyes.

“Amen to that, Don.” Rory raised her glass. They both drank in silence for a minute. There were a lot more people at the party now, and Rory struggled to take it all in. To anybody that was there, it was clear that Tanya Cox was indeed the center of attention. In a crowded party, it was as if she had a no-fly zone around her which others were scared to enter without her approval.

“Here comes trouble,” said Don, as he took a sip of his drink. Rory noticed Tanya Cox making her way toward them, a smile on her face and a confidence in every step she took. Her dress was probably worth more than what Rory made in a year.

“Uncle Don.” Her face went into a practiced smile. Pearly whites shined through, on a canvas of perfect complexion. Rory wondered how tall she was or rather, how tall the heels she was wearing were.

“Hello Tanya. Glad you could make it,” Don said in his polite, businesslike manner.

“Great party,” she said, in a monotone voice that was clearly meant to convey that she had been to better parties than this.

“Just a small get-together of friends, nothing more,” Don replied.

“Isn’t that what all parties are?” Tanya chuckled as if she had made a very smart comeback. She barely held eye contact with Don and constantly looked around, as if things around her were more interesting than the person that she was speaking to. Rory, she didn’t even acknowledge.

“This is Rory. Rory, meet Tanya Cox.” Don introduced them.

“Hello,” Rory said politely and offered Tanya her hand. The blonde heiress slowly turned, looked Rory up and down, and slightly nodded her head in acknowledgment. No shaking of hands, no words of hello. Tanya Cox had no time for mere mortals.

?

?Have you seen Arsen around?” Tanya turned back to Don.

“Arsen? Arsen Ford?” Don feigned ignorance, playing with Tanya. “I don’t think he’s even here. He doesn’t like parties.”

“Don,” she said in a cold tone and narrowed her eyes. “Where is Arsen?”

“No idea. Have you seen him, dear?” He turned to Rory, who shook her head. Though where is Arsen? Missing his own party? she wondered.

“I’m telling you Tanya, he’s not even here.” Don chuckled this time, much to the annoyance of the heiress who was clearly used to having everyone at her beck and call. Tanya let out a small grunt but quickly composed herself, put that rehearsed smile back on her face, and turned around to walk away.

“One of the small joys of my life. Messing with Tanya Cox.” Don laughed out loud, clearly pleased with his work. “Are you okay by yourself, sweetheart? You mind if I go and check up on our guests?”

“Of course, Don. It is your party after all,” Rory replied. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise, my dear. Feel free to explore around.” With that, Don was off.

Rory lounged around for what seemed like an hour. Her eyes searched for Lizzy, but she was too busy mingling with people and Rory didn’t want to interrupt her. Afraid that if she hid by the bar any longer she would end up drinking too much, Rory decided to give herself a tour of the house.

If she thought that the house looked incredible from the outside, she was in for a shock as she walked into the main hall. It was the kind of place that she had seen on MTV Cribs. Rory had to tilt her head fully back to see the chandelier that hung from a high ceiling. The place was done up with a lot of taste, and she was surprised that a rock band had chosen to live here. This was a place meant for royalty.

A hallway led to an inner garden that had immaculate landscaping. Beds of flowers formed the periphery of the area and there was a very earthy feel to it. A canopy, terraced with glass frames and bound by sheer curtains around its pillars, housed the sitting area. To the side, the presence of a tall fountain cooled the air. Rory instantly fell in love with the place and wondered what it would be like to have breakfast in there every morning.