"Fine. I'm going to hold you to that. So when Brad Paisley is in town next time . . . We're going!" She stopped her victory dance, turned around, and looked at me.
"Um . . . Okay. I love me some cute country boy." She rolled her eyes, laughed, and continued with her victory dance. "You do know he's married though, right?"
"Yes, I know Brad Paisley's married, and even if he wasn't, I told you, I'm not looking for a boyfriend."
"Get dressed, we're going shopping," Jules said, walking into the kitchen, looking beautiful in a pair of cut-off shorts and a pink fitted t-shirt. It was ten in the morning, and I was just now having my first cup of coffee. I really needed my coffee before any human interaction. She knew that already.
"For what?" I grumbled, while staring into the steaming mug.
"We need something to wear to the concert. You know, something that screams Rock N’ Roll groupie."
"I'm no groupie," I said, taking a healthy sip of my steaming coffee.
"Humor me, will ya! I intend to be in full-on groupie mode at that concert and you're going to be right there with me, even if it kills you!" She pulled her long, auburn hair back into a ponytail.
"Can I at least get a cup of coffee in me? Why you gotta be so perky so early in the morning anyway?" I didn't ever remember a time when Jules woke up grumpy, not even with a hangover. Ugh.
"Fine. But hurry!" She turned on her heel and walked back down the hall toward her bedroom, her ponytail swishing from side to side. I finished my cup of coffee, grabbed another one when she wasn't looking, and took it to the bathroom with me. I turned on the water in the shower and stepped in, letting the hot water wake me up. After showering, I pulled my hair into a ponytail and dressed in a pale blue sundress with my silver flats. If I was going to be forced to shop, I was going to be comfortable doing it.
We ended up shopping for four hours. Then we went to lunch at Big Tom's Fat Burger. Finally, we headed home, exhausted. I was ready for another shower and a glass of wine, not to mention, some more of that steamy romance novel I'd been reading. Yum.
Friday Night Concert
Peyton
I decided to leave my hair down. I ran the flat iron through it, letting it fall in silky strands over the top of my shoulders. I applied smoky gray eye shadow to make my light gray eyes pop. When I finished my hair and makeup, I slipped on my new denim skirt with rhinestones on the back pockets, a black fitted t-shirt, and a pair of black flats adorned with rhinestones sprinkled across the toes. I grabbed my black Coach wristlet and went in search of Jules. She was standing at the kitchen counter with a bottle of Patron and two shot glasses. She looked me over from head to toe with a confused look.
Eying my outfit she said, "This is a rock concert. I said to dress like a groupie. Nothing about you looks slutty." Thank God. I rolled my eyes and ignored her comment.
"Breaking out the good stuff, huh?" I pointed to the bottle and grinned. "Happy Birthday!" I sat the small gift bag on the table in front of her.
"You shouldn't have!" She squealed and pulled the pink tissue paper from the black bag. "I'm so glad you did, though!" She laughed as she hung the shot glass necklace around her neck. "Oh-my-god,” she laughed, staring down at the little pink penis that was made into the bottom of the glass. “I haven't even left the house yet and I've already gotten cock!" She poured her shot of tequila into the glass and another for me, before sliding it across the counter in front of me.
"It's not every day that I get you to lay down your book boyfriend and go out. Besides, it's been months since the breakup. It'll be good for you to go out and have some fun. Live a little. You have to come out of hiding some time. How many batteries have you and B.O.B gone through? I bet you've forgotten what a real cock feels like." She smirked.
"It hasn't been that long, and no I haven't forgotten what a real one feels like. I just don't need a real one right now. B.O.B and I are doing just fine, thank you. He's never let me down!" I said, jokingly. "And, he knows just what I like."
"We'll see." She grinned and slid another shot in front of me. "Here's to one of us getting lucky tonight, and that you have fresh batteries for B.O.B!" she said, throwing her head back and laughing. I rolled my eyes and tossed back the shot, enjoying the warmth of the liquid as it spread through my veins. "Let's get going. Our cab should be pulling up any minute now." Right on cue, the blare of a horn sounded from outside.
"Promise me one thing." Jules paused with her hand on the doorknob and looked over her shoulder at me. "Promise me that I'm not going to have to bail your ass out of jail because you grabbed some guy’s dick." She rolled her eyes this time and giggled.
"I make no promises." That was what I thought.
"Oh. My. God! Oh-my-god! We're here. I can't believe we're here!” Jules practically flung the door open on the cab before it ever rolled to a stop.
People were lined up halfway around the brick wall of the large building. There were half-naked women; some were holding signs professing their love. One woman with extremely huge boobs held a sign that read, "These boobs are for Chance!" in red glitter. When we finally reached the front of the VIP line, Jules gave the security guy her name. He flipped through a couple of pages on his clipboard before pulling out a couple of lanyards and handing them over to us.
"Follow me ladies," he said, and lifted the rope so that we could step through. A crowd of women behind us began to hurl insults as we walked off.
"That's right, bitches! We're going to party with the band, while you're out here, sweating your asses off!" Jules taunted them, while flipping her long, auburn hair over her shoulder.
"Really, Jules? You're gonna get our asses kicked before we ever get back stage." We followed the big guy down a long hallway and into the backstage area, where we weaved our way through techs, roadies, and tons of wires and equipment. We walked until we came to a door at the end of the hall that had a sign with the band's name on it.
"This is it, Peyton! This is it!" Jules dug her fingers into the flesh of my arm, hard.
"Shit, Jules!" I rubbed my arm where her fingers had been.
"Would you please just calm down. They're going to think you're some crazy person who has escaped the psych ward if you keep this up," I scolded.
I could understand her excitement for being so close to someone as famous as these guys. Except, all the fame did for them was ruin them. Reality became distorted and soon they were handed everything that was once beyond their reach—all because of who they had become. They gained access into places they wouldn't normally have been able to go. There were expensive gifts, multi-million dollar endorsement deals, the drugs, and alcohol, even the endless parade of women, who threw themselves at band. Being a rock star not only ruined the guys themselves, but also the people closest to them. I, for one, would know. The big beefy security guy lifted his arm and knocked twice, before the door swung open to the meet and greet room.
"Holy Shit. This is it. I'm actually going to meet the guys from Dirty Affliction!" Jules took a deep breath and turned to face me. "What are you doing?" She paused when she noticed I wasn't following her. "Aren't you coming in?" she questioned. There was no way I was going into that room.