The Prince of Punk Rock (2 page)

She knew their relationship was weird and kinky, but it worked, for
them anyway.
 
It satisfied Tommy’s urge
to be with a man, and it calmed the fear inside of her that one day Tommy would
and leave her for another man.

Jessi remembered the first time she
saw Tommy. It was at a college football game.
 
When he took off his helmet and shook out his long blond locks, it
caught her attention.
  
He turned so she
could see his face and the color of his eyes pierced through the crowd.
 
They were powder blue.
 
His lighthearted smile lit up his face and projected
ease and confidence.

She didn’t see him again until a
couple of weeks later at a party. He stood out with his flowing hair and bright
eyes, and a chest that was made to play football.
 
But he wasn’t dressed like an athlete. He
wore black skinny jeans, boots and a Metallica T-shirt.
 
His arms were tattooed and his fingernails
were painted black.
 
He looked like a
rock star and she was drawn to him right away.
 
She didn’t wait for an introduction.
 
She boldly offered him a beer and a smile.

When she complimented him on his
rock star image, she learned he was the lead guitar player in a popular local
band called Psychobabble.
 
Even though he
came from a family of football players, the guitar was his passion.

Tommy was exactly her type.
 
She
always went for the bad boys, ego-toting jocks, hellions and the like.
 
But this bad boy was different.
 
He was sweet and unpretentious, self-assured
without arrogance.
 
He was polite and his
eyes projected an innocence that captured her heart.
 
And he had a great name – Tommy Blade.
 
It was as cool as he was.

Jessi fell for the rock star life the first time she saw Tommy play.
She stood at the front of the stage, waited for the band to begin their set and
jumped as soon as they hit the first note.
 
She didn't expect the hardcore thrash metal that the band played, with
their head banging and hair tossing and screaming lyrics that she could barely
understand.
 
After the initial shock, she
found herself bobbing her head and tossing her hair around like the rest of the
people in the bar.
 
What surprised her
most was Tommy’s talent.
 
It was vivid
and undeniable.
 
There was no holding him
back once he had a guitar in his hand.

During the first song, Tommy slowly walked down the two small steps
that led to the stage.
 
Girls crowded
around him and reached out to stroke his arm or touch his shoulder as he passed
through them.
 
He stopped directly in
front of Jessi, jutted his hips and his guitar forward, and played an intricate
guitar solo just for her.
 
She was in
awe.
 
The spotlight was on her.
 
They were the center of attention.
 
After he finished his guitar solo, he gave
her a quick kiss on the lips and returned to the stage.
 
The people around her cheered and pumped
their fists in the air.
 
A drunken girl
next to her grabbed her arm and screamed, “That was awesome!” Jessi
laughed.
 
It
was
awesome.

Soon afterwards, Jessi changed her
style dramatically.
 
She dyed her
shoulder length hair hot pink and had it cut into an asymmetrical bob.
 
Bright tattoos soon adorned her
shoulders.
 
Anything black with studs or
spikes became a wardrobe staple.  Mini skirts and fishnet stockings,
always finished off with a pair of studded black leather boots, befitted her
aesthetic.
 
She was a rock goddess.

Tommy was her best friend, her soul mate, her lover and her other
half.
 
She couldn’t image a future
without him, but when she started to doubt his sexuality she couldn’t move
forward with their relationship.
 
Tommy
still didn’t feel comfortable talking openly about his sexuality, but at least
he stopped denying it and Jessi wasn’t stuck with the ambiguity of their
relationship any longer.

 
Now that she found a way for
them both to be happy, she finally agreed to marry him.

Chapter Three

Three years later

Tommy rubbed his temples with the
tips of his fingers and tried to ease away some of the tension and
frustration.
 
The checking account was
overdrawn again.
 
It was his fault.
 
Jessi worked hard.
 
She put every dime she earned into the
house.
 
He was the one that wasn’t
pulling his weight.
 
Teaching private
guitar lessons wasn’t as profitable as he expected.
 
He knew he should do more with his education,
but he wasn’t cut out for a nine-to-five job.
 
Music was his lifeline.

Jessi deserved better than this
little house in
Brooklyn
, but it was all they
could afford and they still struggled to pay the mortgage.
 
It was times like this that he got
discouraged, and he began to think the big break he was waiting for would never
come.
 
His biggest fear was that he would
end up an aging, wannabe rock star, playing the same local bars for the next 20
years.

Jessi pulled his hands away from
his forehead.
 
“Stop worrying about the
bills.”

“How can you say that?
 
We could lose the house.”
 
He was the one who agonized over the bills
and made sure they were paid.
 
He was the
responsible one.
 
Jessi never took
anything too seriously, except the band.
 
When it came to Psychobabble, she was all business. She voluntarily took
on the role as the band’s manager, and negotiated fees with local bars to
ensure that they were paid top dollar.
 
She single-handedly manned the merchandise table at all their
shows.
 
It wasn’t very profitable, but
with Jessi’s flashy appearance she drew attention.
 
There was always a crowd around her, and she
used her charm to promote the band.
 
She
was very persuasive and easily coerced everyone she spoke to into buying a
T-shirt or CD.
 
She proclaimed that it
was all to further the band, but Tommy knew that she craved the attention.

“We’re not losing the house,” Jessi
said.
 
“We always get by.
 
Everything’s going to be fine.”

Her optimism never wavered, and it
amazed him.
 
“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I believe in you,
baby.”
 
She grabbed both of his hands and
held them close to her chest.
 
“You’re
good.
 
You’re the most talented one in
that band.
 
You’re the one people come to
see.
 
They come to hear you rip up that
guitar. Listen to the crowd the next time you do a guitar solo.
 
They don’t scream like that for Brian, and
he’s the lead singer.
 
They don’t scream
like that when the drummer does a drum solo.
 
They scream for
you
!”

Jessi had so much confidence in
him, so much enthusiasm and certainty about his success that it made him
believe in himself.
 
No one ever
supported him the way she did.
 
His father
got on his case all the time about getting a real job.
 
He said that he wasted his college
education.
 
But Jessi sacrificed her own
education for him.
 
She dropped out of
FIT, the illustrious Fashion Institute of Technology, in her last semester and
took a job at a fashion house in
New
York City
so they could save up for a wedding and buy
this house.
 
That’s how much she believed
in him.
 
He was humbled.
 
He owed her everything.
 
“I know that making it in the music industry
is a long shot, and we’re taking a big risk with our finances, but when I
listen to the way you talk, you put everything into perspective.
 
You make me feel like I really have a
chance.”

“Of course you do, Tommy.
 
You’re
the star of the band.
 
No matter what
happens with Psychobabble, you’re going to make it.
 
You’re going to be famous.
 
I knew that the first time I heard you play.”

Chapter Four

Angel
Garcia always knew he would make it big, that’s why he put all his time and
energy into his music.
 
Immortal Angel
was an old-school punk rock band that had a substantial following.
 
The name didn’t exactly scream punk rock, but
the fast-paced guitar riffs, infectious beats and raunchy lyrics sure as hell
did.
 
Lately, they had been scouted by a
few major record labels.
 
No offers had
been forthcoming as of yet, but the band was on the verge of getting
signed.
 
He could feel it in his gut, and
his gut was never wrong.

The
recent departure of the band’s lead guitar player left the band’s future in
jeopardy.
 
The wrong person in the high
profile role of lead guitar could be suicide.
 
He refused to settle for anyone less than spectacular and, so far, no
one had the spontaneous over-the-top guitar riffs he searched for.
 
He needed a guitar player who could stand up
to his powerful vocals and not get overshadowed by them.
 
Some were close, and might have fit in
instrumentally, but they lacked the rock star persona that his band
exemplified.
 
He had no interest in
performing a makeover.
 
His new guitar
player needed to seamlessly integrate into the band. He wanted someone who had
it all – the look, the sound and the dedication.
 
He wanted someone who lived and breathed the
rock star life.