The Falling of Love (14 page)

After dolling Grace up, Becca stands back to admire her handiwork. “Just look at you. Fit to be a rock star’s fiancée!”

Grace cannot answer right
away,
she is too caught up with her reflection in the mirror.

Becca stands behind her finishing up a braid and peers around her shoulder. “My goodness, Grace. I always knew you were pretty, but you look exquisite! I mean look at you!” she says, as she comes around to the front of her. “You’re like a whole new woman.”

Grace’s cheeks warm at Becca’s compliment.

Her appearance is just as big of a shock to her as it is to Becca.

She studies herself in the mirror a little longer while Becca freshens up in the bathroom.

I can’t wait for Ian to see me like this
, she thinks as she places strands of her hair on each shoulder, and turns her head, admiring her reflection.

“You know what,” says Becca as she exits the bathroom. “You could totally model. You’ve got the height, the curves,
those
eyes. Oh
my gosh
the agencies would go gaga over your eyes, and you’re absolutely beautiful.”

“You really think so?”

“I’ve been a model since I was nine and I’ve seen girls that aren’t half as pretty as you make it in the business.” She throws a tube of lipstick in her purse and gathers the rest of her things. “We better get going. Don’t want to be late.”

As Becca speeds down the freeway Grace keeps thinking about what she said to her in her bedroom about modeling. She always daydreamed about modeling, but never thought it was actually something tangible.

“Becca,” she asks, suddenly feeling shy.

“Yeah,” she says, not taking her eyes off the road.

“How would I even go about getting started with modeling?”

Becca smiles. “Normally you just get some headshots done and go to an open casting. But, I’m pretty sure if you walked into any modeling agency they’d chomp at the bit to sign you.”

“How did you get started?”

“We were on vacation in Paris and someone from my agency just came up to my Dad and asked him if I had ever modeled before. My dad wasn’t too hot on the idea at first, but after they took me down to meet the staff he warmed up to it. That’s how it all started. I’ve been going non-stop ever since.”

“You’re so lucky.”

“Grace, I don’t go around telling all my friends they should be models. You really do have the look, but you may not be cut out for it. People in the fashion industry can be brutally honest, and kitten, you’re just so darn sweet and innocent, they might just tear you to shreds.”

Grace is slightly insulted by Becca’s comment, but keeps her thoughts to herself.

“Do you have your man’s CD?”

Grace pulls out the homemade Black Dog CD from her purse and Becca slides it into the player. Screeching guitar chords fill the tiny car and they sing the songs repeatedly, a total of three, all the way to Hollywood.

“This is the place, Grace!” says Becca as she pulls up to the club.

A valet comes to the car, and Becca hands him the keys as if she has done it a million times before. Butterflies rise in Grace’s stomach as her high heel touches the sidewalk in front of the club, and she steps out of the car. She stares up at the purple, glowing, neon sign that flashes the words
The Shadow Box
. She has longed to see Ian play since they arrived in Los Angeles. She spends hours every day dreaming of what he would look like on stage and tonight for the first time her fantasy will become a reality.

Becca has dressed Grace in a couture dress she purchased last season. Grace feels elegant and sexy in it. The top is a black leather halter with ties that lace up the back. The bottom of the dress is made of black tulle that juts out around her hips and stops only a few inches below her pelvic area. She is pretty sure if she bends over her panties will show, but Becca insisted she looked sensational in it. On her feet, she wears a pair of Becca’s black, platform high heels. The spike of each heel is wrapped with tiny silver chains, fitting for the fiancée of the lead singer of a rock band. Around the crown of her head is an intricate braid that ties around her head and falls down with the rest of her long blonde hair.

“You look hot, kitten!” says Becca, as she entwines her arm with Grace’s and leads her into the club.

Grace can barely hear herself think over the loud music in the packed club. As she pushes through the crowd, the cloud of cigarette smoke stings her eyes. She stumbles over someone's leg and she starts to apologize, but it's so dark that she can't tell to which torso the leg belongs.

Ian’s band is the third to play tonight. Becca and Grace suffer through two horrible hours of smoke, sweat, and lousy music before it is almost time for Ian’s band to take the stage. The lights go dim and Becca shakes Grace’s arm.

“They’re next, Grace!”

Grace’s body shakes from the anticipation of finally seeing Ian singing onstage.

The band’s roadie, a heavy set, older man with a bald spot and hair hanging on for dear life to the back of his head, half growls and half screams, “Shadow Box! Welcome to the stage one of L.A.’s hottest new rock n’ fuckin’
roll
bands…Black Dog.”

The ever-growing crowd around her erupts into cheers and screams. Grace’s stomach drops. The club is dark except the red lights beaming from the band’s equipment and the purple neon lights that blaze from the bar behind them. A short quick thud of the bass drum makes Grace’s heart beat faster. Jaden plays a quick chord on the guitar and then stops abruptly. A single spotlight shines on Ian as he wails out a melodic rock anthem. Grace’s heart pounds harder as she stares at her man on center stage.

Grace is enthralled in all that Ian is. The rush of girls that have taken to the stage distracts her momentarily. Girls swoon over him and scream his name.
Since when did the rest of the female population catch up to what I’ve always known?
Becca looks tentatively at Grace which makes Grace feel ashamed.

The multicolored stage lights shine on Ian’s soft, long hair. His tight leather pants do not leave much to the imagination, revealing all that he has to offer a woman. His arms are decorated with bracelets and his fingers are adorned with rings. Under his black leather jacket is a Black Dog t-shirt. Even though this is only a small Hollywood club, Grace notices that he mesmerizes the entire room with his voice and stage presence. With the rhythm of the music, he moves his hips, as if he is making love to his microphone stand. Seeing this makes Grace begin to ache for him. It is no wonder the girls in the crowd are going crazy.

Grace’s eyes look over the stage and her gaze settles on Jaden. His dark brown hair glows green because of the light that is shining on it. He is shirtless, and his black leather pants are clinging to his hips. Girls hang all over the stage attempting to get his attention, grabbing at his feet as he waves his hand across his guitar. Jaden is lost in his music and seems to have no idea of what is going on below him. Ian plays into the mood of the crowd and becomes even more seductive in his movements and tone. One of the girls standing below Ian opens up her top and flashes her breasts. Ian nods in that arrogant way that Grace despises and he smiles at the girl bearing her breasts. Grace, unable to control her emotions, becomes furious.

After the show, Grace cannot get backstage to where Ian and the band are. “But he’s my fiancé!” she urges to the stagehand.

“That’s what they all say, sweetheart,” he says, as he ushers her away, his breath reeking of alcohol.

“Hey jerk!” Becca says, pushing her way in front of Grace and pointing her finger in the stagehand’s face. “She’s telling the truth. Why not use your brain and go ask Ian?”

After about fifteen minutes, the stagehand comes back to where they have been very impatiently waiting for his return. He says nothing while he opens the door to the backstage area. A cloud of smoke rushes from the door right into their faces, choking them. The overpowering smell of alcohol makes Grace nauseous. The brightness from the lights backstage sting Grace’s eyes and it takes a moment for her to focus on the scene before her.

First, she sees Jaden sitting on the arm of a beat-up old couch, shirtless, with the zipper of his leather pants unzipped, strumming his guitar as usual. To his left is their drummer Coral, who is called that because of her bright pink-orange hair color.

Coral is an extremely petite young woman in her mid-twenties. She has pale skin and long hair that she has pulled up on the sides. She wears a short lace polka dotted skirt and a ripped rock t-shirt that hangs from her shoulders. Grace has only said about two words to her the entire time she has lived in Los Angeles. Usually when the band comes to practice at her house, they go straight for the garage.

On the other arm of the couch sits their bass guitar player, Micah, who has a girl on his lap that Grace does not recognize. The girl has her hand down Micah’s jeans and it shocks Grace. His short dark hair is slicked back, and he wears it in a nineteen fifties greaser hairstyle. His skin is a golden brown, his eyebrows are dark, and he has aqua blue eyes that are accentuated with a small amount of black eyeliner. Grace finds herself staring at one of Micah’s tattoos that flows up his entire left arm, up his shoulder, his neck, and up to the lower part of his chin. In the few times that she has encountered him she always finds herself questioning the pain he must have gone through when he got it.

Sitting slumped on the middle of the couch, Ian’s legs are spread wide-open, his leather pants unzipped, and a bottle of whiskey in his hand, with two girls on each side of him. Sweat still glistens on his bare pale chest. Ian does not rise from his seat, but motions for her to come over to him. Becca grabs Grace’s hand and leads her to the couch.

“So, babe, what did you think of the show?” Ian asks Grace, as he hands her a bottle of beer.

Grace looks at the beer and then looks around the room. All of them are underage except Coral and Micah, and all of them have some type of alcoholic beverage. Feeling peer pressure she takes the beer. Ian then grabs for another and holds it out to Becca.

“
Ummm
, no thank you, but if there’s wine I’ll take that.”

“Do we look like wine drinkers?” Micah chuckles.

Ian looks at Grace, his face saying he is impatient. “Well?”

“You were amazing as always, baby,” Grace says, as she makes sure to emphasize the word baby.

Becca looks at the two girls sitting next to Ian and motions her hand toward them. “Who are your friends, Ian?”

Ian looks at them and shrugs.

One of the girls says, “I’m Stephanie, this is my friend Linda.”

Becca rolls her eyes at the girls and motions for them to move off the couch.

The girls look to Ian to save them from Becca’s glare. “You can stay,” he says.

Grace’s mouth falls open.

Ian pats his leg. “Babe, your seat is right here.”

Grace glares at the two girls and takes her place on Ian’s lap.

He brushes her long blonde hair off her shoulder and looks her over. “You look fucking amazing, babe,” he says, before he leans up to kiss her on her cheek.

Nodding his head in approval of her outfit, his tongue grazes his bottom lip as his eyes scan her entire body. Her wardrobe usually consists of jeans, shorts, sweaters, sundresses, and a couple of nice cocktail dresses she wears on special occasions, so she is not used to so much attention based on what she is wearing.

“Leather?” he asks as he runs his finger down from her cleavage to above her navel.

“It’s Becca’s,” she says, sharply. She is still furious with him.

Ian looks at Becca. “I like. I like it a lot!”

The two girls on Ian’s sides rise from the couch after a glance at each other. Grace is not impressed with their overall look. One of them has on very short ripped jean shorts and a tube top. The other has on a plain, skintight, long-sleeved, red dress. Becca rolls her eyes again as they walk over to Jaden and begin focusing their attention on him.

“Hey, girls,” Ian shouts. “Don’t forget to buy your CDs.”

The girls seem to gush at Ian’s words and quickly grab their purses and pay Micah for two Black Dog CDs. Ian looks up at Grace, who is still fuming with anger, and winks. He moves her off his knee then takes her by the hand and twirls her around while he looks at her seductively. His tongue skims his lower lip.

“You’re my rock princess.” He smiles.

She does not return his smile. She is too angry with him to be flattered by his compliment.

Lying in bed that night, sadness overwhelms Grace. Her Ian, her sweet beautiful Ian, is not the same person he was a couple months ago. His ego is apparent, and his attention and care for her seems to be slipping away.
What is happening to him?
she
cries out in her mind. Ian is passed out, no doubt from all the alcohol he consumed after the show.
Since when did he start drinking so much?
She wonders what all the other shows have been like when she was not there.
Does Ian always have girls hanging on him like this?
What would have happened if Becca was not there to protect me and stand up for me like she did tonight?
She takes a sigh of relief when she thinks about Becca being there to defend her.

Ian wakes up and turns over to look at Grace. “I love you, babe.” His words sound groggy.

Grace looks at him with an expression of hurt on her face.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says, shrugging off her feelings.

Ian sits up and turns on the light by the side of his bed.

“What? I can always tell when you’re upset, Gracie. Talk to me, babe.” The tone of his voice is sweet and comforting.

Now there’s my guy
. “Tonight was just—”

“You didn’t have fun?” he asks, looking confused.

“You were amazing. The band was amazing. The slutty chicks on the other hand…” She looks away from him.