The Rock in our Stars

1

Towards the end of The Yardbirds, 1968, the other band members decided I was a man-whore. Presumably because I rarely left the bedroom, spent quite a lot of time with women, slept with the same groupies over and over, flirted frequently, and devoted quite a bit of my little free time, obviously, in bed.

The sassy boys, who were arguing already enough, snapped at me to go to some sex addict support group. Ugh, im not addicted. Its not my fault that women can't resist me. Im just fabulous. But I went anyways, just to meet more women. Lol at them.

The support group, basically, was boring as hell. It was every Friday at the leader guy's house. His name was Keith. Ugh, I hated that bitch. But anyways, the support group. Every person in the damn group was a guy. The only women, actually a girl, was a 14 year old girl who Keith brought along with him, who sat in the corner. Shes probably his groupie or whatever, so she was out. Dang. And, I mean these guys were cute and all, um, but I wasn't interested. 

So basically, Keith would start off how 'back in the day' (like a year ago) he used to love groupies. He always bragged about how him and his band, The Who, what the hell kind of name is that, got plenty of them. Then he goes on about how he realized it wasn't good to take young girls for granted and lead them on just to get laid. Isn't that how this whole system works? Whatever. Then he says how he decided to take his free time to come to lead this sex addict group, to help us get out of the same situation he was in.

Then we would all introduce oursleves. All of the other guys couldn't raise their hands because they were too busy covering their man boners, so I would usually raise my hand to start first. I would say my name, Jimmy the "man-whore" Page according to my jealous bandmates, my age, 24, young and always ready, and my problem. I didn't get why we had to say that part, I mean, we were all here for the same thing. 

Anyways, I didn't want to go every week, but Jeff told me that if I didn't go he was out of the band. Why did he even give a shit? Jealous much? But whatever, it gave me something to do. One week, I noticed there were a few new people, and some people had left. They probably left to go have more sex, lol. Anyways, after I introduced myself, some other guy spoke up. 

"I'm, um, um, John." His voice was basically a squeak. What the hell.

"I'm um, 24." He squeaked. Him? A sex addict? Lol. I looked down at my perfectly polished black dress shoes. I spaced out. I really needed some more shoes. I had 30 pairs, but its not right to keep a pair for more than a month, am I right?

Anyways, whatever, then I heard this guy speak up. He had a really heavy midlands accent, and I mean, I liked it. We all had thick accents, but his was like, thick thick. Ha. I looked up from my perfectly ironed pants to see who this thickly accented sex addict was, and my mouth dropped open. He was sitting with his legs wide open, like he was just asking for it. I would never do that. My legs had to be crossed. But for him, it just kind of, worked. But I only saw his hair. I couldn't see anything else, his face was down. But I mean, his hair was perfect. It was like a goddess came to Earth and weaved perfect golden strands and just, glued it to this guys head. I wanted to touch it. I doubt it was a soft as mine though. Nobodys hair was as soft as mine. Did this mean competition?

But then he looked up. At me. Oh my god. He was like, three seats away from me. His hair bounced a bit, resting perfectly on his shoulders. It was so shiny. I couldn't stop staring. I wanted it. Dammit.

Then he winked! Wow. He was cute. He had this really tiny dimple in his chin you could just make out, and this really nice nose, and his eyebrows were pretty nice too. But his hair.

He probably got as many girls as me. Wait, I take that back. He probably almost got as many girls as me. What a babe. Then he stood up. I think his jeans were a little too tight, but I didn't mind. He had a really nice butt.

"I'm 20." He put his hands on his hips with sass, sticking a leg out. I still couldnt stop staring at his hair. "And I'm Robert. I've been an addict for a few years, I fear cheap hair products, and I love to sing." He sat back down, flipping his hair with his hand. Most of the guys were staring at him to. Who could blame them? He was like, glowing.

Whats better, he fears cheap hair products. Just like me. The rest of the meeting went by, but I don't even know what was going on. I was entranced by this Robert guys hair the whole time. Oh my god, what if hes here next week, and the next, and the next?

I might like this group after all.