Rory vs. Rockstar

The pathway from the garden led into a huge dining hall that was perfect for throwing parties. A grand piano sat in one corner, and there was a strong classical British feel to the decor. Reminds me of Downton Abbey, she thought.

A wide opening led to another hallway that ended up in a library. Cozy was the first word that came to Rory’s mind as she stepped through. Even for a bookstore owner, it was overwhelming to see so many books lined up along the walls. Someone had really put a lot of work in setting up this collection here. Or maybe they are all just pulp fiction in fancy bindings, she chuckled to herself.

Rory’s drink was done and she wondered if she should get herself another one. Before anything else, I gotta go pee. She didn’t recall seeing a restroom on her way so far and decided to wander around to see if she could find one.

The vacant room on the other side of the dining hall didn’t have one, and the decor of the dining room itself was such that she couldn’t distinguish whether they were all wall panels or if there was a door hidden in there somewhere. Deciding that she would look like a fool were she to try and pry it out, she chose to explore further instead.

As she looked through one more door, she finally saw what seemed like a sitting room. It had a great window to one side that looked out at the party that was taking place. On the other side was a door that Rory was sure would be the one she was looking for. Thankfully for her it was.

Rory smiled to herself as she looked in the mirror after relieving herself. She thought she looked pretty, or at least better than she usually did. Maybe I won’t look so bad in that bridesmaid’s dress that Tara sent over.

As Rory walked out of the bathroom she saw that at one end of the room, by a huge sofa, lay about ten guitars next to sheets of paper that had some scribbling on them. Rory got curious, but felt guilty at wanting to snoop around like this. She was making her way to the door when it opened by itself with a thud.

Tingles went down her spine as her eyes feasted upon the charming face of Arsen Ford, standing there in his usual rockstar clothes that partially hid, partially showed off that rock hard body underneath. He seemed to be taken aback as he saw her standing there, but maintained his composure and didn’t show any signs of a shock. How rude, Rory thought.

14

“I know you,” he smiled. That smile could start wars, Rory thought. Something inside of her leapt at standing so close to him. The sheer strength of his body overwhelmed her as he towered over her.

“Do you?” Rory’s hand instinctively went to straighten her hair.

“Didn’t expect to find you here,” Arsen said as he shut the door to the room behind him.

“I can say the same for you,” Rory smiled. “I’d think that you’d be out there, partying away.” She nodded toward the window, through which muted noises from the festivities filtered in.

“Why would I do that?” Arsen asked her, with a deathly serious look.

“I don’t know. Isn’t that what rockstars are supposed to do?”

“But I’m no rockstar. If I recall what Mickey said a few hours back, I am just the ‘damn guitar player’ in his band.” Arsen was trying to laugh it off in a sarcastic way, but Rory knew this was no joke to him. She stayed silent, not sure what to say.

“Wine?” Arsen asked, after he had already poured out two glasses for them. “Here’s to us lowly guitar players.” He raised a toast after handing Rory her glass. Both of them walked silently to the window to look upon the celebration and the people who seemed to be having a great time.

“You’re right. I should be out there having the time of my life. I mean, how fortunate am I to live in this mansion and do the kinds of things that I have the privilege of doing? Not many people get so lucky.”

They both stared out in contemplative silence before Rory spoke up.

“Definitely too lucky for a bartender,” she smiled.

“You and Don have been gossiping, I see.” He smiled back.

“A little bit, yes,” she said, with a guilty smile.

“It was just a job I took when I moved to LA. It can be pretty overwhelming at first, that big city of dreams. I was naive then. The thought of paying my rent and worrying about food and shelter used to scare me to death.” Arsen’s voice was soft, contemplative, as if a movie of his past was running through his head.

Tell me about it, Rory thought as reminders of her own struggles appeared in her head.

“I don’t know if I could do it again if I had to. It still surprises me that I went through so much for this dream… but I guess we all are foolish in our youth.” He smiled.

“Or brave. Do you really think that we all could go through hardships and end up at the top? Heck, I’m an LA native and even I still find the city intimidating. So much so that I ran away to the safe shelter of Montcove.” Rory had never admitted it to anyone, not even to herself at times, and somehow she was telling it to Arsen.

“Everything is supposed to be so perfect in that city. The people, the restaurants, the cars, the… everything. I mean how do you compete with that? It’s difficult to hold yourself up to those standards.”

“I know what you’re saying, Rory. I liked to think of myself as a pretty confident guy, till I set foot in LA. I remember my first gig at The Troubadour in Santa Monica. I threw up right when I was about to go on stage. I thought everyone would hate me and laugh at my ’70s sense of style.”

“But they didn’t, and now here you are.” Rory raised her glass.

“I guess I got lucky.”