The Trouble with Rock Stars: Jackson's Story (Access All Areas 3)

Sally glanced at Carlie then at Jackson, then turned to me, as though trying to work it out.

“I’m sure he didn’t,” I said, but to Carlie not to Jackson. I had no reason to think one way or the other, I just wanted to clear up the tension.

Alex’s big secret was often a topic of conversation in the bar. There was definitely something going on but maybe we’d never find out. Maybe people didn’t want to find out really because it gave them something to talk about. Of course, no one said anything if they thought Alex was likely to walk into the bar. But he was safe upstairs, rehearsing with his band, so his secret past could be discussed freely.

“Gina, do you think Jackson should give me guitar lessons?” Drew asked.

I turned to Drew, making damn sure not to look at Jackson again. I’d looked at him three times since I’d come into the bar and that was three times too many. Not that I even counted how many times.

“I guess that’s up to Jackson,” I said to Drew. “It’s not like he’d bother if he doesn’t want to do it.”

Then I realized that might sound bitchy and bitter. I didn’t want to look like that. I lowered my head.

Screw that, I was bitchy and bitter. I’d been played by him. If nothing else, I’d thought he was my friend. But, if he had been, then he’d have at least been nice about things. Maybe I should’ve accepted Carlie’s offer to punch him. It’d be much better than having all this emotion simmering inside me.

When I’d come back to the bar, I’d felt hurt and humiliated but, after talking to Carlie and Violet, the anger rose up in me. Not that it did any good. I couldn’t fight and I couldn’t say anything. I just had the anger to deal with on top of everything else.

Chapter 5 Gina

I HAD THE SAME WRENCHING feeling in my stomach that I had every day when I went to my office. That feeling that made me just want to run away and hide somewhere safe. Maybe, one day, I’d have enough money and enough guts to leave this place but, until then, I needed to do things like eat and pay rent.

I put my bag down at my desk and turned on the computer. Every other desk in my section was covered in personal stuff, the things people bring in so that they have a bit of personality – stuffed toys and family photos, pictures of their holidays and weird pen holders. My desk was barren, apart from a coffee mug and the regulation stationery.

When I started working at the law firm, it was a stopgap. Something to keep me going until I got a better opportunity. I had no idea what that opportunity would be but I figured it would work itself out. Only, I’d been here for a few years now and no opportunity ever came up.

I’d never brought anything personal into the office and, by the time I realized I’d be there more than a few weeks, I’d reached the point where I didn’t want to bring my real life into the workplace.

While my computer started up, I went to the kitchen to make a coffee.

I worked for a law firm as a legal secretary. I never talked much about my work because I figured other people would find it as boring as I did. Most of the secretaries in the place cared more about “their” lawyer than they did about their own husbands. There was some kind of bitchy one-upmanship that went on that I didn’t even understand and, because I didn’t care, that seemed to annoy people. Mostly, it annoyed Margie and Dianne.

Margie and Dianna were the other two women in my team. I always got to work early so I could get myself organized before they came in to the office. That way I could avoid them. Most of the day, I did audio-typing which seemed awfully old-fashioned to me. Why couldn’t people just learn to type for themselves instead of talking onto the audio machines then getting other people to type it up for them? At least it meant I had my headphones on most of the day and didn’t need to talk. Or else I was in the photocopy room.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be friendly. I just didn’t want to be friendly with Dianne and Margie. And they sure didn’t want to be friendly to me either. They acted all sickly-sweet to my face but that was only for show. I’d have liked to be friends with some of the other girls in the office though, maybe go out for lunch with them or for drinks after work but I was never really sure what to say. It seemed like I was a conversation killer around work people. I’d say something and they suddenly had to get back to their job.

I grabbed my coffee and started work. Most of the work was so cruisy that it freed up the rest of my brain for thinking about things. The main thing I thought about was Jackson. As I got into the pattern, my brain turned on the same daydream that always kept me occupied. The one where Jackson grabbed me in his arms and stroked my face gently before kissing me. His grey-blue eyes would hold me in his gaze, the edges crinkling with happiness.

Before I got to the kiss part though, I jolted myself out of it.

I had no business dreaming about Jackson or making up scenarios in my head. There would never be any Gina and Jackson. I was better off forgetting those stupid dreams. I was a silly girl. He’d said that to me and I needed to break out of it. He’d never take me in his arms, he’d never hold me tight.

Instead, I tried to think of other things, like winning the lottery and being able to leave this place behind forever. I could board a plane for exotic destinations unknown. The thing was that going to those places alone just seemed sad. There was an empty space beside me and no one to fill that spot.

I decided to focus on my work.

Margie arrived at work and talked loudly about her weekend. Even with the headphones on, I could hear her. I never talked to anyone at work about my weekends. I never told them about going to Trouble or the friends I had there. If anyone ever asked, I just said I stayed at home and watched a movie.

I didn’t even know why I lied. It wasn’t like anyone cared. I just felt sometimes as though if I had something special for myself, someone would take it off me. I’d rather keep my private things to myself. It wasn’t like anyone would understand that feeling I got when I watched a really good band and felt like I was in another place, outside of myself. Or that the singer understood something in my heart that I’d not even known about myself. At those times, in those moments, I’d look over at Jackson and he’d look at me and it was like he understood that exactly.

I had to stop thinking about Jackson. There was no more Jackson.

A little while later, Margie came over to my desk.

I wanted to keep my headphones on and ignore her but she’d just keep standing there.

“I’m really under the pump this morning so I was wondering if you’d have a moment to do the monthly stats report for me.”

I bit my lip and nodded. I hated doing the stats report more than anything. I wanted to ask her how come she’d just spent over an hour chatting about her home renovation projects if she was so under the pump but I never said anything. I always just nodded. In my head, I said all kinds of things to Margie but my mouth dried up so that the words could never come out.