Worlds Apart

Chapter Seven

Although there were a few stories advertised on the sides, I really only had the time to bother for the top one that had the biggest boldest lettering. “They’re Back!” My gaze slowly slid to the writing just beneath of it, reading, “Our Favorite Rock Stars Have Returned, and They’re Holding Nothing Back!”

“Excuse me?”

Blinking, I glanced towards the voice that had grabbed my attention only to find that the line had moved on without me. And that left a rather wide-eyed clerk staring at me, looking horrified that I might jump down her throat at any moment.

“Oh, yeah, here,” I said, feeling a little slow as I tossed the bag of sour keys on the black little conveyer belt. After a moment’s hesitation I grabbed the magazine and tossed it on afterwards. After all, just buying a bunch of sour keys had to be ridiculous, right?

Ah, and who would dare say I was in denial?

Just me.

The clerk was apparently as slow as me because he held the magazine in his hands before staring at me again. Then he repeated the process.

Growing more than a little weary with the waiting, I huffed out a breath and raised an eyebrow at him. I know. It seemed a bit bigheaded to buy a magazine that had my face on the cover, but he could fuck right off at the moment.

When he still didn’t react, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

“How much do I owe you?”

After some more halting on the part of the cashier – where I considered leaving him with the fifteen dollars change just to get out of the place – I was finally sent on my way, stuffing my sour keys in my bag as I went, though not before I grabbed a handful and dropped them into the pocket of the faded jean vest I had on.

Slipping my sunglasses down over my eyes, I pushed out of the supermarket door with my hip, flipping the magazine open and searching for the page.

As I searched for the page with the article, I pursed my lips in thought as I walked, not bothering to look up. I’d already memorized the streets back and forth across town with my motel right in the midst.

Maybe it was the fact that I had never had the best luck at keeping secrets – not just concerning fame, it had been going on my entire life. Or maybe it was the fact that I had been forced to grow up very fast in a cramped van with half of my company being boys. Whatever it was, I had a feeling that if I brought this magazine straight into the studio with me there was no way it was going to go unnoticed.

That was one thing I didn’t want to be caught with.

Being charged with possession? That was nothing. I’d only had to spend a night in jail before Carl bailed me out. No big deal.

However, being caught with a magazine with my biggest musical rivals on the cover by those particular rivals? No way in mother fucking hell, thank you very much. I think I’d prefer to spend a few nights in jail.

Not too many nights, though. I wasn’t really that tough.

If it came down to that, I’d take the Harrison brothers catching me with the magazine and my reaction could be punching them both. Well, punching only if the moment caught me up in it. More probably I’d be slapping, my hands were worth way too much to be punching some annoying pricks in the face whenever the whim struck.

With those thoughts in mind, I peeled my eyes away from where I was flicking past some makeup ad and glanced to my left where the street lay. There never seemed to be many cars driving here, though there were plenty parked about and none ever went fast down the main road. But from a few nights walking back to the motel in the dark I could see the blur of headlights in the distance as cars raced down those open stretches of desert road, unhindered and untouched.