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

Carlie got my drink, then raced off to serve someone else. I moved over to a corner table. That way I’d not be tempted to glance at Jackson. He looked terrible. Like he’d not slept in a week. That made me happy, in a way. If I was suffering, so should he. I might be mean, but that’s the way I looked at it.

Seeing Jackson made a hundred different emotions battle in my stomach. Fear, anger and excitement being the main ones. I didn’t want to talk to him and go through the same things again. I didn’t want to deal with any of it. What I wanted was to go back to that time when things were good between us. When there wasn’t this drama and this fuss. I wanted to see Jackson, but the old Jackson, the one who’d been my friend and who believed in me, not the one who’d fucked up everything.

Then it hit me that something bad might’ve gone wrong with his hand. He’d be suffering. I wouldn’t ask. I’d never ask. Well, I wouldn’t ask him but I’d ask Drew. Drew would tell me.

I’d almost finished my drink when I saw Sally.

“Need some company setting up?” I asked. I wanted to get out of the bar.

“Sure thing,” she said. “It’s not very interesting, though.”

“Yeah, I’ve done it with Violet.”

It was empty upstairs when we got there. There wasn’t a whole lot to do but Sally got me to keep a watch over things while she checked in with the first band. She came back and we both sat at the door, waiting for customers to arrive.

“Do you think Alex likes me?” she asked.

“I’m not sure.” That was the kind of question that struck dread into me. Do you be honest and hurt someone or lie and make them keep having hope? A blind man could see Alex wasn’t interested in her.

That was the biggest cop-out but I couldn’t say much else.

I was worried she’d ask me about Jackson but she didn’t get off the topic of Alex. Things he’d said to her and what they might possibly mean. He’d come into her office earlier that day to discuss the run-down and had lingered for three minutes longer than usual.

“He leaned over the desk and looked me right in the eyes. I almost fainted,” she said.

A few people came to the door. Sally took their money and I stamped their wrists. It seemed childish but I got a lot of satisfaction out of stamping people. It wasn’t as easy as it looked. You had to get the stamp just right.

That was the sort of thing I never told people in case they thought I was weird. I liked stamping people and I liked bugs and — I liked Jackson, no matter how big a jerk he was.

I wondered if there were any jobs going at the bar. I wasn’t sure I’d be any good at bar work. You’d need to be outgoing and not have problems talking to people. I’d stutter and say the wrong thing and probably drop their drinks to boot. I wanted a job that didn’t involve contact with other people.

Drew turned up and Sally finally stopped talking about Alex.

“Gina, you’re here. I thought you might flake on me.”

Drew hugged me. That’s what I loved about him. He had nothing holding him back. He could openly show his affection for people or

tell them if they were doing something wrong without fear of offending them.

The two of us went to get a drink.

“Jackson is not doing well, Gina. He’s doing really badly, in fact. I don’t even think he’s showering anymore. He just drinks and mopes.”

I nodded.

“Also,” Drew said, “he’s stopped giving me guitar lessons. I still practice, though. I have some new songs written. Alex won’t let me play in the club. Will you listen to them one day?”

“Sure thing, Drew.”

I took Sally’s drink back to her and sat down. The room was going to be packed tonight. Alex’s band was popular, that’s for sure.

“Don’t look now,” said Sally, “but that guy at the bar is checking you out.”

I tried not to turn and look and, to be honest, I didn’t want any guy checking me out. I did look though. I wished I hadn’t. He locked gazes with me and slowly raised his beer glass. I was so not interested in him and turned away. I hoped he’d get the hint and stop looking.

I stayed with Sally and Drew, watching the support band. No need for us to talk, because the music was too loud. I got lost in a whirl in my own head. If Jackson really cared, he’d have come upstairs instead of sitting down at the bar. He hadn’t come upstairs though. Not that I was looking for him or anything.

After the band finished their set, I went to the bar again. That creepy guy still watched me. Before I could get my drink, he handed me one.