Chapter 3
Dylan knew he was not acting like himself. All his life, he could never recall begging a girl for her number. His insides seem to do a strange flip flopping when she was around. It had been a while since she'd been sitting beside him at the pool, but he could still smell her hair, it smelled like fresh toasted almonds. He'd die for just a
second of running his hands through that black silk, letting his
mouth graze those pouty, naughty looking little lips, and he had to
catch himself, his body was beginning to feel taught with craving.

"So you got her digits, nice work," said Ant high fiving him.

"Why would you say that man?" said Dylan raising his eyebrows. Ant
saw everything in terms of scoring. This got old after a while.

"Because, she's really hot, and now, you might get to find out how
hot she really is," added Ant winking at him.

"You know when I first saw her on the tube, I wondered how hot she
really was. But now since I've talked to her, I'm kinda seeing that
she's a really cool girl, smart, feisty, funny. So maybe I might
just wanna talk to her. Maybe I don't see her like a conquest,"
added Dylan softly.

"Bro what's this I hear about you getting all Samaritan all of a sudden," chuckled Larry.

"I'm not getting all Samaritan all of a sudden, I'm treating a woman
how she should be treated. I know a thing or two about that, unlike
the two of you," said Dylan sharply.

"He's all in a huff," said Larry playfully.

"He's clearly in love," teased Ant.

"Not in love, just friends," he said knowing that he was lying, and
he was sure his Cheshire grin was giving him away.

"Listen man, I gotta bail," said Dylan, high fiving his band mates.

That pretentious dude from Garage was far from showing up, and
anyway, he had more important matters to tend to.

He wondered how long he should wait before calling Khrystine. He
didn't want to appear desperate, but if he waited too long, he would
appear uninterested. Never before had he worried about the mores,
manners, and protocols of dating. He just met chicks that he thought
were cute, hooked up, and slowly severed things before they got in
the way of his life, his gigging, his playing, his creating.

So why was he concerned with what was "right" when it came to
Khrystine? He didn't know but as he sped down the LA freeway on his
Harley, the only exciting thought he was having was what it would be
like to have Khrystine behind him. Usually the twists and turns were
thrill enough for him on the motorcycle ride. He had a feeling he
would be daydreaming about the raven beauty frequently.
**

After having mingled with the industry execs and the up and comers like herself, Khrystine could tell that the party was beginning to die down. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to the limo ride home with JaQuon, but if he could keep his hands to himself and not flirt, she was sure she would be fine.

She was escorted to the limo, and she got inside, fiddling with her gold heart shaped locket while waiting for JaQuon to get in so she could go home. She was beginning to feel a little depressed. No matter where she went, she always wore her locket, and it was a two edged sword, she knew someone she loved was always watching over her, but she also knew that it represented something in her life she could never touch again.

She fought with the tears that threatened her lashes, blinking them back slowly. She bent down, reached in the refrigerator, pulling out a diet coke and chugging hard, gulping more than she ever would in front of anyone else, unmannerly to Khrystine. The cool liquid seemed to wash away some of the lukewarm, bubbling hurt that was foaming up in her stomach.

In the distance she could see the pool and her thoughts returned to Dylan. She wondered where he was now. He was such a funny, down to earth guy. She didn’t think she’d ever met anyone as real as Dylan, he was a very WSIWYG kind of guy, what you saw was definitely what you got. He seemed very relaxed around her, and he had an easy going smile and the most beautiful hazel eyes, they could have belonged to a doll baby but they were balanced beautifully by his rugged handsomeness, that olive skin tone, and the beautiful, curly, unruly brown locks of hair. And those hands, they looked weathered and gentle and she wondered what they would feel like cupping her face.

Would he call? If he did call what would she say to him? Though she was wildly attracted to him and thinking of him made her shift her bottom on the seat, she truly thought he was the anthesis of her lifestyle, and her world. Even as a performer, he fit into a “working class” image. She’d never been working class, she didn’t know what that was like, and she was pretty sure he might not like her because of that.

Daydreaming about Dylan was the last thing that she needed to do. She had to stay focused on the task at hand, her white-hot career, tomorrows photo session and interview, and rehearsals for her upcoming world tour. She had time for a friend. Not for a romance. She’d had time for a romance before, and it blew up in her face. She tugged at her locket, and then reached over to the wet bar, pouring herself a glass of chardonnay.

***

Back in his apartment, Dylan threw his worn leather jacket on the couch. He promptly went to his fridge pulled out a Budweiser, and went over to his easy chair. Popping the top of the cap with his teeth he took a long swig. He reached into his lampstand drawer and pulled out his little black book. He flipped through hurriedly looking for the M’s and he very carefully transcribed Khrystine’s name and telephone number in the section. The M’s were blank. Strange that he’d never dated any woman with a last name that started with M. Well Khrystine was special, and he was glad she was the only one in that section. He never called anyone in the other sections anyway. After a while, finding new conquests made him feel more of a void, instead of patching up a feeling of aloneness.

So how long should he wait before calling her? He didn’t hook up too often, and when he did, it was generally within hours of meeting someone. He took another long swig, and tossed the book into the drawer. He shouldn’t even put her name in the book with the other girls. What was it about Khrystine that made her so compelling? That perfume, or her beautiful smile? Was it the untouchable element, or the uncontrived grace that surrounded even her laughter? Or was it that unstoppable determination toward her own success story that riveted him when he was in her company?

All he knew as he continued to down the beer bottle was that he wanted to know more about her, what were her fears, dreams, and hopes? What were the little quirks and admirable qualities that separated her from every other beautiful woman on the planet? Why was she open and relaxed around him one minute, and reticent and wary the next? He’d only wait until tomorrow evening to call. He knew he should probably wait a few days, but she was simply to intriguing and beautiful for him to abate his desire much longer.

That settled, he went upstairs in a flurry. He was glad to be away from the craziness of the party. Now he could concentrate on writing, and he hoisted his cherry red guitar in his lap, only picturing for a second what Khrystine would look like with it strapped around her neck in seductive attire before shaking the image.

***

Khrystine turned and peered out the window, fiddling with her champagne flute. She looked frantically at her Cartier watch. Where was JaQuon? Didn’t he know that she had an early morning photo shoot tomorrow? She was tired and she started to stretch out on the seat and nap when she heard the other side door open. Finally, he had arrived. The door opening brought with it the humid and warm air of the summer LA night, and she was glad. She’d been freezing to death inside the limo.

“Where have you been? I have been waiting, and waiting. Come on Ja, you know that I have an early morning photo shoot, and it’s late, and I’m tired,” whined Khrystine.

“You know Khrys, you are cute all the time, but when you whine like a little girl, it brings it to a whole new level of cuteness,” he teased.

“Cut it out JaQuon. Its too late to flirt, even for you,” she moaned.

“It wasn’t too late for you to flirt with Dylan. I saw you all in his face,” he added, turning to her.

He looked at her so coolly that Khrystine was compelled to turn away, before she added.

“I wasn’t flirting with him. We were talking. And so what if we were flirting? You aren’t my father,” she demanded.

“Maybe I’m not. But someone oughta start acting like him, since Mr. Morgan can’t keep an eye on you. Don’t you know that guys like Dylan Taylor get young starlets off track every minute of the hour,” added Dylan.

“Okay Jaquon. Two things. Number one, you don’t own me. I can talk to whom I please. We aren’t husband and wife. We are songwriting partners. Number two, who says that I was flirting with him, it was just an innocent conversation,” added Khrystine, frustration coloring her voice.

“I can’t believe you’d give me the brush off, and we’ve been working together for over a year, and you give the shopping mall hair rockstar a chance, but you’ve only known him for five minutes,” demanded JaQuon.

“I think you better watch yourself. I wasn’t hanging all over him, I wasn’t flirting with him, we were having a good conversation, and you don’t manage my life, you are my songwriting partner” shouted Khrystine.

The noise of the argument was getting loud, even to her ears.

“I may not manage your life, but you know, Mike, your manager was staring at you. You know that he has a certain image he wants to project for you Khrys and this Dyl-“
“Hold on, my life isn’t just an exercise in Public Relations. I am a person Dylan for crying out loud. You can’t censor who I talk to,” she said turning away from Dylan in a huff.

“An innocent and friendly conversation so you claim? That’s more than I can get out of you. Make sure that Mr. Innocent and Friendly doesn’t just want one thing out of you. Make sure it doesn’t end up topping the tabloids in a few days,” he added vehemently.

Khrystine felt as though he’d just taken a knife, pierced it in her chest and twisted it. Her eyes filled with water and she spat out:

“You watch your back. Maybe we could get more work done around here if you weren’t always watching mine, and trying to force me into a love affair,” she added hotly.

“Yeah well if you weren’t always so sour maybe we could,”

“Sour? Sour? I’m hardly sour to anyone. You know I don’t know Dylan, but I sure know you and I know you are acting like a sour and spoiled brat and I almost wonder if you aren’t the one upset that you aren’t getting the one thing you claim Dylan is after,”

“Ha. Whatever, Khrys, I’m just trying to look out for you. You are one of music’s fastest riding superstars, and I’m riding the road with you. I don’t wanna see you screw up. We don’t have time to nurse a broken heart,” he said as the limo pulled up to Khrystine’s condo.

“No one has to nurse me. I do fine at taking care of me. Just show up on time in the studio, and play your part. You just make sure you are mindful of the fact that we are songwriting partners, not lovers,” said Khrystine, flipping back her long mane.

She grabbed her purse, wrapped the towel securely around herself and sashayed out of the limo, and into the condo. Anger boiled through her veins, and she knew the only thing that could make her feel better at this point was a steamy shower and a glass of Chardonnay.

- posted by Mahogany @ 3:24 PM

 
Chapter 2
Chapter 2

It happened so quickly, Dylan did not have the time to stop Khrystine. One minute, he was looking into those lovely mysterious eyes, and the next minute, she abruptly turned to him and coolly told him that if he wanted to talk business ‘have her people call his people’. Then she’d pranced away, carrying her luscious long legs, and her incredibly curvy, yet slender physique with her, long straight black hair blowing behind her like oriental silk.

He scratched his long brown mane, and rubbed his chest. It was difficult to tell where he’d went wrong, but it seemed that much of what he heard about her in the press so far was true, she was feisty. As angry as her sudden aggressiveness made him, he also found it compelling, like those mysterious eyes of hers. She was even more beautiful in person than he ever could have fathomed in a video. It wasn’t that he’d never found black girls attractive, but he’d never seen any girl quite that attractive, irrespective of race. Heck she could have been a model if she hadn’t wanted to sing. Even in the beginning when she’d warmed to him a little she seemed moody, mysterious. Like the kind of girl who wore a perpetual pout. As strange as it sounded, her surliness toward the end of their brief meeting made him even more curious about her.

Granted, he was sorry that they’d ended on such a sour note. If he had offended her, he hadn’t meant to do so. He only wanted to talk to her a little bit, and see just why she was into G-Note-Flat, and wish her luck with her budding career. Okay, so part of him wanted to see those long legs in close proximity, and another part of him nearly salivated at the swell of her breasts in her golden sheath of a dress, but he was sincere in wanting to get to know her as a friend and wish her well. Perhaps he’d made it too obvious he was staring at her body. That was never a problem for most girls, but apparently it was for Khrystine. Some girls even offered to help him get a better look, though he flatly refused in most cases. He was a rock star, but somehow, empty encounters with women he didn’t know had never intrigued him like they intrigued Ant and Larry. She was different, that Khrystine Morgan. It made him inquisitive to say the least, but it bordered on intrigue.

He heard the door to the other room open, only because it carried with it the extremely loud sounds of the party in the room next door. Larry and Ant came stumbling into the room where Dylan was sitting.

“Hey man, where’s the chick. That Khrystine,” demanded Ant.

“Khrystine. Oh she’s gone,” he said absentmindedly drawing patterns into the palm of his hand, as though he was suffering a great loss.

“She cut out that quick, what was your breath bad or something?” teased Larry.

“Yeah she cut out that quick,” frowned Dylan, his thin lips curling into a pout.

“You let her leave before we could check out her legs in person. Is she really stacked,” demanded Ant.

“Alright cut it out you two. Khrystine is a human being. You are sitting around assessing her like she’s a classic vet’ or something. She also had a lot to say. She listens to some kicking bands, and I think she’s gonna be a real big star really soon. She’s not just a package. Okay, so she’s hot, but you know what, she’s more than hot. She’s a really pretty girl,” said Dylan ending his speech.

“Woah man, she must have given you something. Really self-righteous with this she’s more than just a package crap. You’ve never had problems discussing the assets of ladies before you met Khrystine. You sound like you’re in love,” teased Ant, leaning on the chair and fluttering his eyelashes the way he imagined a girl that looked like Khrystine would bat them.

“I’m not in love with her. I don’t know her. I’m just trying to give you butt brains a bit of class when it comes to dealing with ladies. Looking at racks, and legs, and all that type of thing is bound to get you in trouble, and chicks are more than that,” added Dylan now playing with his fingernails, suddenly philosophical about the way women should not be looked at as objects, after meeting with Khrystine.

“Well…umm…who forgot their preparation H. It’s not like we know her. She’s just some girl that’s cut a few records. And she doesn’t know us either. You’re defending her like she’s your long lost friend. Okay, talking about her legs and boobs was probably not in the best interests of getting to know somebody, but it’s not like we’ll ever hang out with her. We’ll talk about Khrystine with more respect in the future sir,” said Ant with a fake army salute.

“You guys are really funny. Aren’t there some groupies, or some gophers calling you right now,’ said Dylan with a sarcastic snicker.

“Actually your mom is calling me. No but seriously, comments about her incredible hotness aside, why did Ms. Khrystine leave so suddenly,” added Ant.

“Um, I don’t know. I wish I had an answer for that. Convo was going along smooth sailing, and all of a sudden, she cut her eyes at me, they looked like daggers dude and she was out the door. I’ll admit I might have been watching her body a little hard, because she was hot. Maybe it made her uncomfortable,” added Dylan, for the first time dropping his head in shame.

He was lying to himself. It wasn’t the fact that she was so hot that made him ogle at her. It was that she was heart wrenchingly beautiful along with being hot. Not just beautiful for a black girl. The epitome of what any beautiful woman should look like, perfect features, smooth skin, gorgeous hair, pretty white teeth, he could go on and on forever about all the things that were lovely about her. She smelled like sweet cinnamon, and the pout of her mouth was beyond perfect, gorgeously shaped, with just a hint of fullness.

“So you were checking her out. She needs some preparation H if she has a problem with that. That’s what dudes do when a chick is hot. We’ve got eyes. It’s not like we’re in it to marry them, at least not a girl like Khrystine anyways. Maybe she was uncomfortable back here. Maybe under different circumstances,” suggested Ant wiggling his eyebrows.

That comment made Dylan grow very quiet and think. He wasn’t near thinking about marrying anybody but he wondered what Ant was inferring when he said we’re not in it to marry them, at least not a girl like Khrystine. Why wouldn’t Ant consider a girl like Khrystine a suitable marriage partner, after getting to know her? Was it because she was black, or was it because she was an r&b star, or a combination of the two. He’d never given a thought to something like that before, frankly because he’d never been that attracted to a black girl before. It didn’t really matter to him what color people’s skin was, but the thought of getting to know a black girl never entered his mind. Seeing his circumstances, and the little comments that people like Ant, though he loved Ant like a brother made, he wondered if it getting to know even a creature as attractive as Khrystine was worth the hassle. Thinking luscious thoughts about Khrystine however, was completely harmless, he had enough visions of those gorgeous legs in person to ponder for all of his days. Daydreaming about beautiful women was what a growing boy should do, he thought smiling wryly. He needed a cold shower.

***

Khrystine sat on the couch after the G-Note-Flat show and her experience backstage with Dylan. She’d known it had been a mistake to go back there. It had quickly turned from a friendly getting to know you conversation to a bold and outright flirtatious situation in her opinion. She hated herself for colliding into him as she was trying to make her escape after rethinking her decision to meet him backstage. Envisioning his chest as she ran smack dab into it wasn’t something that she wanted to do, but it was hard not to think about those tanned, rippled pecks. Why did he have to go around bare chested anyway. He wanted the women to ogle at him. She could still see his large, but neat hands draped over the edge of the sofa, as his body edged closer, and closer to her. And that sweet musky scent she inhaled when she walked smack dab into his chest, a mixture of the smell of a sweaty male, and sweet, spicy cologne. It was hard to pinpoint weather she hated Dylan, or just the fact that he felt as though he could come right out and call her beautiful. What had he expected to happen after he uttered that statement. It seemed to her that he was really the playboy the tabloids portrayed him to be, and he was out to see if she was easy.

The telephone rang and Khrystine picked it up. It didn’t surpise her that it was Monique.

“How as the show?” asked Monique.

”G-note was good. The asked me backstage,” said Khyrstine.

“What was it like backstage? Do you still think Dylan is cute,” asked Monique.

“I never said Dylan was cute. He was okay. He was really friendly. Too friendly almost. That Dylan Taylor seems to be a huge flirt to me,” added Khrystine.

“Well why would that surprise you? You know that Extra always has some brand new story about the new woman he’s bedding? He probably thought the two of you would be off to a seedy evening somewhere by now. I mean, I don’t even think you should talk to JaQuon. Avoid this Dylan dude like the plague. You know he is shady and has one thing on his mind,” added Monique.

“It’s not even like that. He ogled me, and he called me beautiful, but he didn’t try to step to me like that. Me, and Dylan, please, you have lost your mind. Even he is sane enough to know that we are from two totally different worlds, its not even the color issue. He’s, he’s a Harley loving rock star for crying outloud, and I’m a Audi driving R&B star. I don’t think he felt a love connection. I think he thought that I might be up for some meaningless fooling around though. I do think that JaQuon would at least do me the honor of pretending to be in a relationship,” snickered Khrystine.

“Leave both of them alone, and find an honest, millionaire real-estate developer, while you sing your heart out,” added Monique.

***

The next few weeks were even busier than usual for Khrystine, as she was shooting a music video on location in Los Angeles. They had actually blocked off a section of a busy Los Angeles street for part of the video shoot where she did a dance routine. Even in a white mini skirt, and white high heels, her dancing groove blew the director, and her manager’s minds. Granted, she had learned choreography moves at Studio 11, but she’d given them a soul all of her own.

“God man, is there anything you can’t do, and do it better than anyone else?” asked JaQuon after the shoot was over.

“Oh come on JaQuon, you are really trying to flatter me. Thank you. I just hope that the radio and the music television stations grab onto this one like they grabbed onto the last one. We could be on our way to double Platinum. I can’t believe it,” sighed Khrystine, running her fingers through her now wet black mane.

“I can’t either. You are really talented, and you look darn good doing your thing too. When are we gonna go back in the woodshed and come out with some more tunes for the next record. You know Gold Tone is gonna be asking about that soon,” said JaQuon.

“Next record? Well I’ve already been thinking about some songs for it, but I haven’t done anything serious yet. Mike has told me that Sean was going to push at least two more singles off the album,” said Khrystine.

“For Real? That’s unheard of for a new artist on Gold tone. He must know they can sell that stuff like hotcakes. Sean must believe in you, because he has been known to be very excited over a new act, and bail out on them, not promoting the record after the first single. I think that for your career, you couldn’t be with a better record company, or a better president, because he believes in your stuff. When he believes in your stuff, he’ll promote the heck out of it, ” said JaQuon.

“I really like Sean. He listens to my ideas, and actually tries to see what I’m good at. I told him that I wanted an even more dance oriented video this time, and he listened even though he was originally going to release a ballad next from the album,” added Khrystine.

“Hey that reminds me, Sean probably didn’t get around to telling you this, but he’s hosting a record company party at his house this weekend, on Saturday. You’ve gotta go. I know he would want you there. His house is the mother of all mansions, and if this is anything like last years party, there will be seafood and spirits galore. And bring your bathing suit. He has a huge swimming pool. You’ll meet a lot of other artists on the label. You need to go Khrystine,” said JaQuon.

“You know, I was going to really go into the woodshed this weekend, and do something with the lyrics that have been popping into my head, but oh well, I’ll go, just tell me what time to be there,” added Khrystine.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” said JaQuon, brushing off her request to drive herself.

“But I don’t want you to pick me up, it will be going out of your way,” said Khrystine.

“Believe me, I don’t mind. Since when has a fella minded going anywhere with a gorgeous woman, I’ll pick you up at seven,” he insisted.

“Here you need this,” he said grabbing a towel off the director’s chair and wrapping it around Khrystine’s shivering frame.

The video shoot had included a scene where the dancers opened a fire hydrant, and they all danced in the spray of the water. Even though it was a hot Los Angeles afternoon, Khrystine was beginning to shiver now that the water was starting to dry on her body. It had soaked her mini skirt, and tube top ensemble.

“Thanks,” said Khrystine sniffling.

“No problem. You need to cover up that beautiful body anyway when you’re not on the set. I don’t want other men looking at you and thinking thoughts. That’s only for me,” said JaQuon threading his arm around her neck.

“Shut up, and get off of me,” said Khrystine flinging his arm back at him.

“I love you too baby. See you Saturday. Pick you up at seven,” he said blowing her a kiss.

“I don’t love you too. I’m only going with you because, I don’t know anyone else and won’t know how to get there. You better be on time too,” said Khrystine, switching off to her trailer. She wanted to get out of those wet clothes, and into some dry gear so that she could begin rehearse for her appearance on The Late Night Show with Rickey Allen the following week.

***

Dylan did not want to go to Gold-Tone records industry party. It wasn’t that he didn’t like parties, he just didn’t like these events because they felt staged. Even though he wasn’t on the Gold-Tone roster, his manager suggested that he go because he was doing a Soundtrack that would be released on Gold-Tone records. His manager suggested he get to know Garage Boys, the hardrock band they were collaborating with, before they jammed in the studio.

When he arrived at Sean’s mansion, the staff directed him to the party in the backyard. As he quickly glanced around the area out on the lawn, by the tennis courts, and in the pool, it appeared that every artist on the Gold-Tone roster had shown up.

Ant and Long Armed Larry were following closely behind him, and he could hear them muttering and pointing about who they saw. It wasn’t long before they’d spotted the legendary shrimp on the buffet table, and were helping themselves.

It suited him fine. He really wanted to talk to Garage on his own, serious talk, and really see if they were the kind of band he wanted to collaborate with. They made some kicking records, but he didn’t want to go in the studio with some winey face prima donnas. Only beautiful women could be prima donnas. He grinned to himself because at that moment, a thought about Khrystine popped into his head. It was strange that when he even thought about the ideal woman, her face flashed across his mind, the small well defined forehead, cute pert nose. And her eyes, exotically shaped, like almonds, they gave her an oriental look, especially when coupled with the darkness of their color. He couldn’t even see the irises. Mysterious, but beautiful, and that’s what Khrystine was to him.

He looked around for Garage, for the lead singers characteristic wild blonde hair, but he saw no sights of the band.

He walked back around the other side of the pool to the buffet table where Ant and Larry were now helping themselves to what looked like quiche. Although they were digging into the quiche mindlessly, they were staring straight ahead, and from the leering grin that was plastered on both of their faces, he knew what they were doing, checking out a “babe” in the pool. Curious to see what all the commotion was about, he made his way over to his friends. As soon as he stood face to face with them, they each looked like fat Cheshire cats that had swallowed two baby canaries.

“What’s up?” asked Dylan.

“Nothing,” Said Ant looking guiltiest out of his pair of friends.

“Don’t tell me nothing. I’ve known you for ten years. Who are you checking out?” Demanded Dylan, reaching for one of the giant, oversized shrimp stuffed with crabmeat.

“Well um…No one,” said Ant smiling slyly.

“Oh cut it out Ant. You know he’s gonna find out soon enough anyway,” he said pointing his long finger in the direction of the Jacuzzi that sat on a brick embankment, elevated above the pool.

“Oh wow,” he said, and then stifled his words embarrassed by the statement, and hoping he was hiding the utter wonder in his eyes, that made him choke on his shrimp.

In the water sat Khrystine Morgan, laughing and goofing off with what looked like a man and two other women. He was too far away to hear what they were saying, but once again he found himself fascinated by her beauty. He could see that she had on a white bikini like top, and he loved the contrast of it against her deep brown skin. The oriental black silk that was her hair usually was straight, and hugged the middle of her shoulders, but it was crinkling up under the water so that it was wavy. His mouth dropped open a little and he leaned closer, watching her. He didn’t know she was signed on the Gold-Tone label, and he hadn’t expected to see her, so the surprise made his heart flutter.

The rigidity he had seen when she was meeting with him backstage was gone. In its place was a vibrant, playful beauty, flicking water at her friends, and tipping her head back giggling. And when she tipped her head back, and he saw all of those pearly white teeth, even from a distance they were radiant. He wondered what was whiter and clearer, her beautiful teeth, or the whites of her eyes. God she was breathtaking. And she had the audacity to have a luscious figure too.

Apparently, the man had said something that made her playfully angry because she sort of floated behind him and put him in a headlock, and innocent one, cramming his head near her neck. He could hear the man’s laughter float toward him. What he wouldn’t give to be the man that tickled her that much, and be trapped with his head close to that long graceful neck.

“Stop it Khrystine, you’re choking me woman,” demanded the deep voiced man.

He was the kind of man that would turn up his nose at Dylan. Though he was only wearing swimming trunks, he didn’t need a suit to show that he was the type of man who tried extra hard to be well dressed, slick, and overly articulate in an effort to impress all types of ladies. His neck was swiveling from side to side trying to take in the goodies in the Jacuzzi, his head darting from the luscious Khrystine, to her pretty counter part. If Dylan were in that water, he knew there would be no problems at all keeping his eyes only on Khrystine, and he’d never, ever felt that way before about being close to any woman. She was a vision. He shook his head, because he had to get that chick off of his mind. They were worlds apart, and even if it wasn’t startlingly clear just by appearances, it was crystal clear after the backstage episode.

“So you gonna go talk to her?” asked Larry.

“I don’t know,” he snapped digging for another shrimp.

“Geez, what crawled up your butt dude? Let’s go see if Garage is here. Dylan seems to be having marital problems with Khrystine. You can’t even say her name around him without it becoming like, a court case or something,” teased Ant.

Somehow, Ant knew just how to take a laceration and jab his finger in it so it hurt a little worse sometimes.

“Go already,” replied Dylan, growing really miffed.

He wanted to stare at her a little while longer, but he didn’t want his friends to know. He liked this Khrystine that he saw who was now doing the bump with the other girl in the water, and giggling. It would have been wonderful to see this happy free creature backstage. Maybe it was because as she’s said when she’d stormed out of the room, switching away with her perfectly rounded backside ‘I don’t even know you Dylan Taylor”.

Two very long legs perfect legs stepped gingerly out of the water after she’d hoisted her body on the side of the Jacuzzi.

Khrystine shook the water out of her hair, and darted out, running toward the other side of the pool as the other woman ran behind her. The strength that was in her running told Dylan that she must have been athletic, she was quick, and sharp, even as her voice was filled with giggles, calling the girl with a wave of her hand. She held her nose and dived into the pool, and Dylan watched as the two girls swam two consecutive laps in a race. Khrystine could have been a mermaid, she swam as though the water was her second home. When she got closer to him, and he saw the perfectly round backside, and the long legs, flex on either side of her with the swimming motions, his mouth dropped. How did god get so much gorgeous into one girl.

She was closer, and now he could hear her feminine, yet sexy voice.

“See told ya I could swim faster than you. You aren’t hungry enough girl, I was hungry. I kept telling myself there is no way I’m going to let Cinnamon beat me,” said Khrystine playfully.

He recognized the name Cinnamon. She was another new R&B artist on the label, but she wasn’t as popular as Khrystine. Nor was she anywhere near as beautiful.

Dylan did not want to talk to her while she was entangled in a conversation with the other budding star. He wondered if they already knew each other and that was why she seemed so relaxed around Cinnamon. It didn’t matter, she was truly a another Khrystine. She still seemed different than the ordinary women that he knew, super sophisticated, but she was a much more playful Khrystine. A human Khrystine, and not an all powerful beautiful diva with the pipes of an angel.

Cinnamon galloped out of the water and into the poolhouse.

Now was his perfect chance to talk to Khrystine before someone else arrived, and he quickly positioned himself in her direction, trying to skirt near the side of the pool.

When he realized she was getting out of the water though, he opted to stay behind the juice bowl and quickly devoured his shrimp. He didn’t want to miss another chance to see the gorgeous creature get out of the water. Further, the area near the punch bowl was less heavily trafficked. He wanted the opportunity to see what went wrong a few weeks ago.

Obviously she still didn’t see him, her spirity switching walk carrying her right to the cooler, where she picked up and cracked open a diet coke can.

“Straws. Straws,” said Khrystine outloud to herself.

Yeah, she looked like a woman to perfect, and girly to sip from a coke can without a straw.

Dylan fished around the punch bowl and as though an omen, he felt a whole box of straws.

Khrystine moved further and further towards him, and he managed to get from behind the flowing punch bowl, and to the side of the table where she was standing. He held out the straw to her as a peace offering, but she was so busy looking for straws she didn’t see him almost directly in front of her.

He cleared his throat, and she turned toward him.

She looked utterly shocked.

He literally saw the diet coke can tremble in her hands, and suddenly he was overtaken by the urge to sweep her in his arms, and let her know that everything was alright.

“Hey. I heard you about the straw. Here,” he said extending it to her. When he handed her the straw, her fingers grazed his, and the touch of her skin was so smooth and perfect, he just ached to clutch her hand and make sure she had a good grip on the straw.

“Thank you,” said Khrystine absentmindedly.

“What, what are you doing here,” she said and he immediately saw her fold her arms across her chest as though she was trying to cover herself.

“Nice to see you again too,” teased Dylan.

“I’m sorry. But I didn’t know you were on Gold-Tone. Label switch,” she inquired shakily.

“No actually, I’m doing a soundtrack album with the garage boys, who are on Gold Tone, and obviously not here yet, and so I was told to come, and talk to them,” said Dylan matter-of-factly.

“Oh, alright, nice seeing you. I have to go,” added Khrystine, walking away from him backwards.

He scratched his brown mane of hair.

“Hey look, last time I met you, I talked to you one hot minute, and you did a disappearing act. I would like us to chat a little longer this time. Five minutes maybe? I really need to talk to you,” said Dylan. He wanted to apologize for whatever he’d done wrong, though he thought it had something to do with checking her out.

“I don’t really feel like I’m dressed for a conversation Dylan,” said Khrystine.

He saw Cinnamon walk by and Khrystine grabbed the girls arm.

“Walk with me to get my coverup. It’s in the poolhouse,” added Khrystine.

“I’ll be out later,” said Khrystine, and she turned on her heels, and walked way, this time with her fingers locked together, and folded over her bottom.

Funny that she hadn’t seemed shy in the bikini earlier, not that she should have been with her beautiful body. Now all of a sudden, she was in a hurry to cover herself up. He must have truly made her uncomfortable the other night. It pained him to think of those luscious curves on that slender body obscured from his view for the rest of this social event. If he had behaved earlier, backstage, she probably wouldn’t be so hesitant to be in beachwear around him. Most of the other girls were wearing swimsuits and bikini’s. And none of those other girls held an ounce of his attention, only Khrystine. Defeated, he picked up another shrimp stuffed with crabmeat, munching on it and wondering if Khrystine would really come out later and talk to him.

***

Khrystine walked into the pool house and quickly tied her white cover up around her hips. When she’d been standing close to Dylan, she’d felt embarrassed, as though she was walking around naked instead of being covered by the swimsuit. The thought of him looking at her in such revealing clothes made her blush, but she never usually felt embarrassed to wear a bikini at the beach, or at parties. She wondered what made her feel so nervous about it now. Perhaps it was the look he had given her with his beautiful hazel eyes, when she felt them burning through her skin when their eyes met. His fingers had been large, and manly, yet they held the straw so delicately and very gently placed it between her fingertips, the skin on his fingers soft, but worn. They felt like the hands that loved to tinker around with cars and things of the like. Why was she thinking about his hands, and his eyes.

“Cold,” inquired Cinnamon.

“Yeah, a little,” said Khrystine, just snapping out of the daze of her daydream.

“That heavy metal dude was checking you out when I walked past. I mean, his eyes were dancing when he was talking to you,” she added.

“He’s not a heavy metal dude. He sings hard rock music. It’s different. I think he’s a big flirt too,” added Khrystine.

“Well he didn’t look flirty to me, just like he was very fascinated when he was talking to you. When I saw him he was watching your face, looking at your eyes. It seemed that way,” said Cinnamon straightening Khrystine’s coverall.

“Really?” inquired Khrystine. That shed some new light on this Dylan person. Maybe he wasn’t always staring boldly at women’s figures and calling them beautiful.

Still a nagging voice in her head told her that he was a playboy.

She skirted around the perimeter of the pool, sipping yet another Diet Coke through a straw.

JaQuon introduced her to more industry people, and even though she hadn’t thought about putting on the cover up before her encounter with Dylan, she was glad that she was covered a little. She stood talking to various industry execs for a long time, as soon as she was done meeting with one, another one took her arm and funneled her away. There was even a director that approached her about sending her some scripts. This was quite an evening and it was making her head spin. And she was glad for so much confusion gathering around her, because then she didn’t have to think about Dylan Taylor.


A few hours later, the party still in full swing, Khrystine retreated, her networking with the executives over, dangling her feet in the shallow end of the pool. She was very shocked when Dylan Taylor strutted right behind her and sat beside her, slipping his feet in the water right beside hers. As though she wasn’t embarrassed enough that he’d caught her talking to herself, and got to ogle her as she wore only a skimpy bikini, he had the nerve to seek her out in the crowd. Being so close to him made her a little uncomfortable, because he was shirtless, and wearing cutoff jeans that accentuated the muscles in his thighs and calves. She wouldn’t dare look at him, lest she see those cute thin lips, and hazel eyes boring straight though her. As silly as it was, she kept looking straight ahead, as though she didn’t see his large, but neat feet dangling beside hers in the water.

“Khrystine,” he said, swiveling his neck and looking at her.

“Yeah, what do you want,” said Khrystine softly, just a hint of irritation in her tone.

“Why do you sound angry at me? I should be the one mad at you. This is the second time you bailed on me. And this time you promised to come back, but you lied to me. What I want is the opportunity to make right whatever it was that went wrong backstage, ” he said, with warmth in his tone.

Though her voice had been irritated, his voice sounded full of tenderness, and she felt a little guilty, looking at him. When she did, she caught sight of his hazel gems, hidden in a large nest of black curls, and though it was hard to keep looking at him without melting, she smiled at him.

“Nothing went wrong Dylan, I had to go. I had a commitment,” said Khrystine.

“Commitment at 11:30 at night,” said Dylan.

“Yeah, don’t we all have commitments at strange times in this business,” asked Khrystine? His probing questions were beginning to irritate her. She didn’t know why he had to be so persistent.

“Come on. I wasn’t born yesterday. It was twenty-three years ago. Our convo was moving along great, and then all of a sudden you glared at me, and if looks could kill I would be in ICU right now, and you bailed. What was that all about? You know what, nevermind, I don’t even have to know what it was about. All I want to do is apologize if I somehow made you mad at me. Whatever it was, I wish a million times I could take it back, and we could keep sitting backstage, and talking, and I could offer you a soda or something,” said Dylan shrugging his shoulders and kicking his feet in the water.

If Khrystine felt guilty before, when she snapped at him, and he’d done nothing wrong, it paled in comparison to the guilt she felt right now. She’d never known any man that would apologize for doing something wrong, even though he wasn’t altogether sure what went awry.

“Dylan, I’m sorry. I should apologize to you. If you, If you really want to know what’s bugging me, I didn’t like it when you called me beautiful,” said Khrystine examining the ends of her hair. She didn’t know why she was revealing this to him, but those hazel eyes could beat the truth out of a criminal.

“That’s what’s getting to you?” demanded Dylan raising both eyebrows.

“Well yeah, It wasn’t so much you calling me beautiful, but it was strange and it made me feel awkward. The more we talked, the cozier it got, and so I just needed my space, and I needed to leave, because I don’t know you like that,” she said looking directly at him.

“Well I’m sorry that I made you feel weird backstage, truly I am, but, really, you should be used to people telling you that you are beautiful by now. I know I’m not the only person who has told you that,” probed Dylan.

“No. You aren’t. Dylan it felt like a pickup line to me, to be honest, and I wasn’t trying to be approached in that manner,” said Khrystine.

Something about Dylan’s conversation style, his demanding of answers from her, when she explained herself to no one, made her so angry, her skin felt hot and prickly. Yet she was compelled to continue talking to him.

“Aaaaaaah. I see. You thought that was a pickup line? Although I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better, if you thought that was a pickup line, you haven’t been dating the right guys. Please. Not that I use pickup lines but, I would have made you melt,” said Dylan with a rougish grin.

“I think you might be a little out of line there. You couldn’t make me melt,” snapped Khrystine turning away her head.

He had the nerve to say he could make her melt, of all things. This proved he was cocky, sure of himself, and wanted to see how many girls he could make weak for him.

“I think that I could. Even if I can’t, you could make me melt. Okay, Okay, so you don’t like being flirted with by me. It makes you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry. I’ll stop it. You’re just really pretty to me, and I enjoy our conversations, so that’s my way of letting you know that. Can we just be friends, shake on it. Seriously. There’s no funny buzzer or exploding ink in my hand. I just want things to be right between us,” babbled Dylan.

There was something about him that wouldn’t let her remain angry with him, no matter how much she willed her mind to do so. Her heart was taking over now. There was something about someone as successful in the music business, and good-looking as Dylan stuttering, and trying to apologize that warmed her insides, and made her call a truce.

Against her better judgment, she extended her hand, and the very warmth, and electricity that engulfed her hand, and trickled to her stomach and down below, startled her, and she quickly pulled her hand away after he’d pumped it with a gentle strength.

“Now will you get out of my hair?” asked Khrystine. This time she was smiling. She was being playful and she hoped Dylan got the hint.

“I’m just beginning to get in your hair,” laughed Dylan.

“I was actually going to come back earlier, but I got hung up with those executives over there,” lied Khrystine.

“Uh-oh, watch out, they are going to run your career from now, and your life, until you either retire with a rock-and-roll hall of fame award, or wind up in the cutout bin at Sam Goody. Somehow with you, I think it will be rock-and-roll hall of fame,” said Dylan, aiming his feet closer to her in the water.

“No one runs Khrystine Morgan,” said Khrystine, arching her eyebrow.

“I believe you. Anyways, I love it when you do that. That’s when you’re starting to get mad,” said Dylan mimicking her.

“Well then both of them would mean you should go away,” said Khrystine, half kidding half serious as she bucked her eyes at him.

“Even doing that, you’re still attractive, which is a miracle. Oops, I said it again. Said you were hot. That’s a No-No in this friendship,” said Dylan.

“Who said we were friends,” said Khrystine.

“Anyone, who is as mean as you pretend you are right now wouldn’t continue talking to me if she wasn’t at least beginning to consider me as a friend. And I know you aren’t really this standoffish acting. I can tell by looking in your eyes,” he said softly.

There was something about those eyes that scared the heck out of her, while tantalizing her at the same time. Maybe he really could use them to see inside of people, because he had pulled her card, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“You don’t know me Dylan Taylor. Who says I’m not pretending,” said Khrystine.

“Well, you tell me. Who’s the real Khrystine. Is it the playful girl I saw flicking water, and boasting about her swimming skills giggling with her friends, or is it the untouchable glamour queen, and singing sensation that frowns her eyebrow the second I say something she doesn’t like,” teased Dylan.

“Every other word that comes out of your mouth makes me so angry I could punch you,” she said playfully making a fist and falling prey to chuckles.

He had been watching her. The thought made her stomach flutter, and then she felt embarrassed hoping she hadn’t looked silly at any point during the evening. Then she wondered why she cared. She wasn’t in love with Dylan Taylor.

“I can tell. And yet you keep talking to me,” said Dylan, spreading his hands as though he’d won a great victory.

“Yeah, I’m strangely compelled to talk to you for some reason. I guess I’m a sucker for irritation,” chuckled Khrystine.

“At least we are off on a better foot now,” said Dylan with a grin.

“Yes we are. And your feet keep moving closer,” said Khrystine looking down in the water.

“So they do,” he said touching her big toe with his toe.

Even feeling his toe upon hers under the water made her feel a strange tickling heat crawl up her skin.

“Touch me again with your foot and die,” said Khrystine folding her arms.

“I believe you, and I’m too young to die,” he said playfully kicking water at Khrystine.

“Well trust me. If you touch me with your big toe again, you’re gonna die,” said Khrystine chuckling.

“Like you tried to kill your friend in a headlock over there. I see. So tell me, what is in the cards for the talented Khrystine Morgan in the upcoming year musically. Are you gonna cut an album, go on tour, what’s shaking in your camp?” inquired Dylan.

“Musically? Well, the label is going to pitch two more singles off my album, which means two new music videos. They will be shot over the next few months, and we will release one every four months or so after the radio picks it up. Then its off to the American Music Awards, and then I’m going to do the talk-show rounds. After that, we tour Stateside, Europe, and Japan, a 30 city tour, which should last about half a year, and head straight in the studio to cut the next album,” said Khrystine, beaming, not even stopping to catch her breath.

“I can tell that this is what you like to talk about, because you are grinning from ear to ear. You remind me of myself. You’re gonna be one busy woman for the next couple of years, but take it from someone who’s been in the business a few years, take time to stop and smell the roses,” said Dylan grinning.

“Music is the roses,” said Khrystine.

This was what she’d wanted to do since she was a little girl, and she didn’t see the need to take a real breather to smell the roses. Work, even twenty hour stints in a day was a vacation when she could sing her heart out. And in the words of Quentin she liked to look darn good doing it.

She allowed herself to get lost in Dylan’s conversation. Every now and then he said something that irritated her, and made her raise her eyebrows, or square her shoulders, which he seemed to love to point out to her. However, more often she found herself enjoying their talk, because Dylan was such an easy-going personality. While little ruffled his feathers, he also seemed to be a fun loving guy, able to get along well with others. This was evident when he shared some of his tales about life on the road, and the humor he looked at some of those events with. And although they were really from two different worlds on multiple levels, sometimes, maybe it was their tie to the music business, she found herself nodding her head, and laughing, as though she’d known Dylan all her life. As long as she didn’t concentrate on the electric sparks that seemed to shoot across her forearm when Dylan kept accidentally brushing her with his arm as they both curled their hands on the side of the pool, she felt at ease chatting with him. He was quite a character, and now that he wasn’t trying to hit on her, she was enjoying his company.

They talked for about an hour, but soon Khrystine saw the need to make a retreat. The eyes of the industry executives were beginning to glance over in their direction, as were some of the other partygoers. She didn’t want to give others the wrong impression, quickly excusing herself.

“It was nice talking to you Dylan, and I’m glad we were able to get off on a better foot,” said Khrystine, extending her hand to him.

He shook her hand.

“I’m glad we were able to set matters straight too. This is the conversation you owed me from backstage the other night,” he teased.

“So it is, and I’m glad I was able to cough the respect that you should show a lady out of you,” chided Khrystine back.

“Oh, I like how you came back with that one,” he said covering her hand with his.

Khrystine quickly withdrew her hand from under his own. The prickly heat she felt between her legs when he covered her hand with his soft, yet strong masculine hand was too much.

“I’ll see you around,” said Khrystine quickly getting out of the water.

“Hey wait a minute. You’re always darting away,” said Dylan gently grabbing her arm.

Dylan’s touch to her arm made a warm shiver rise up her spine. She liked the feel of his hands. They felt gentle, and yet husky. She could feel that Dylan was good with his hands, and thinking about that made her blush.

“I’m not always darting away. You are always grabbing me Dylan,” said Khrystine chuckling softly.

“That’s cuz I have to grab you to keep you from floating away. If I don’t hold on to you tight enough, you’re gonna float away. And that’s true of all things that are too beautiful to be of this world,” said Dylan with a soft smile.

She had to wonder when he was murmuring about her being beautiful if he was truly sincere, or just wanted to see how far he could get with her. They way she felt when his hazel eyes stared into hers, she really wanted to believe in him. She lightly stroked the hand that was grabbing her arm.

“You aren’t gonna abide by the rules of this friendship are you,” said Khrystine grinning.

“I can abide by anything, as long as you give me your number before you leave this evening,” said Dylan gently letting go of his grasp on her arm.

Khrystine missed the contact of his hand on her arm, and she looked gently into his eyes.

“You didn’t have to let go of me Dylan. And you don’t have to always follow the rules. I’ll let you know when you get out of line,” she said, licking her lips softly, grinning at him.

She was flirting with him, but something about the way he was looking at her, and what she felt when she was close to him left her powerless to resist the urge.

“Please do that Khrystine. Make sure that you straighten me out. I would really enjoy that. Here’s a pen. I’d really like your number Khrystine I’m serious,” he said his cherry colored lips forming an even bigger smile, and handing her a pen.

“Give me your hand,” said Khrystine gently taking his weathered hand and turning it face up on her knee.

She knew that reservations about giving a notorious ladies man like Dylan her telephone number were in order. But there was just something about his smile and his charm that wouldn’t let her resist giving him her digits. So what if they talked, there would be no harm in that. If things got too heated, or too serious, she would know how to get Dylan to back off. She would use the same tactics she used when other guys began to get more serious than she was comfortable with. She couldn’t let anyone get to close to her. Every time someone got too close, it made problems for her. It hurt too much.

“I’m giving you my cellphone number. I don’t usually give guys my cell number, but I’m giving it to you because I want to make sure we stay in touch,” she said after scrawling the digits on his palm.

“You have great handwriting. And I shouldn’t be surprised, you just look like the type of girl that would have that beautiful penmanship. Thank you Khrystine. And thanks for not running this time. I’ll definitely keep in touch,” said Dylan softly.

“Yes please do that. I want to know what you and G-Note are up too. But I really gotta go now. Nice talking to you again,” said Khrystine.

“Yeah, same here,” said Dylan looking down at the hand she wrote the number on.

Khrystine saw the need to make a retreat. The eyes of the industry executives were beginning to glance over in their direction, as were some of the other partygoers. She didn’t want to give others the wrong impression, quickly excusing herself. Nosey onlookers would probably try to make something more out of their innocent conversation than had really occurred. The last thing she wanted was an untrue headline emblazoned on the cover of the LA times.



- posted by Mahogany @ 8:11 AM

 
Chapter 1

Dylan Taylor sprawled across the bed, flicking his long brown hair in
the other direction. His eardrums were still vibrating from the show
last night. It was difficult to tell whether they were vibrating
because of all the screaming fans, or the loud roar of his guitar
tuned to an open G, as he spilled his soul out to the audiences.
Sometimes he wondered if they were listening to his intimate thought
spilling, or if they were looking at him as Dylan Taylor, rock sex
symbol extraordinaire. The band was giving him grief for the latter,
teasing him night and day about his pinup poster looks. His hazel
brown eyes, fine features, and smooth olive complexion, and rippled
chest did little to quell the desire of the press to market him as an
idol. At the end of the day all Dylan wanted was to rock.

He didn't remember what Ant, the drummer was doing sprawled across
the couch in his room. He was guessing from looking around and
feeling his pounding headache that the band had gotten up to some
wild party last night. Though many rumors circulated about the wild
parties of G Flat Noise, Dylan was never a part of the wild
partying. He usually sat in the back of the room, or lay on the bed,
downing half a six pack, and watching the craziness around him, or
pouting, scrawling lyrics on the back of a napkin. Granted he was
not a saint, and he had a few liaisons with a few beautiful women,
but never anything wild like the magazines reported, and never
anything serious.

Somehow, the Grand Vista hotels television had gotten turned to MTV.
Once again, this wasn't Dylan's channel surfing. This was probably
Long Armed Larry, the Bass Guitarists channel selection. Larry liked
to watch headbangers ball, because it helped put him to sleep. Dylan
liked to get a break from Hard Rock music sometimes when he wasn't
gigging, or writing, so he didn't normally turn on MTV. However, he
began watching it, because it was already selected. This must have
been r&b and rap programming, because he'd just caught the end of two
scratch master artists, rhyming over beats.

The next video however caught his attention, and apparently Ant's
attention as well, because he said. "Dude, get a look at that black
chick. She's hot,"

"Get a life," replied Dylan.

"She wouldn't want you anyway loser. Actually she is kind of hot.
She's got really long legs. Nice skin too. Kinda chocolaty, pretty
smile," added Dylan with a smile, sizing up the girl.

"Who is she anyway," asked Ant.

"Some new girl. It sounds like Khrystine Morgan," added Dylan.

"I figured you would know," said Ant.

Dylan had listened to r&b music since he was a small boy, and
although many modern acts didn't do it for him, he did keep up with
the genre as best as he could, while living in the rock and roll
scene. Many of the new artists he noticed would be nothing if it
were not for some Hocus Pocus magician performing studio wizardry on
their vocals, and supplying them with a kicking backbeat. But one
thing he'd noticed when he listened to HOT LA 105 that morning when
he first heard Khrystine Morgan was her incredible voice. Though she
did have the obligatory modern day studio drum kit accompaniment,
here was a girl that sounded like she had a lick of talent outside of
the studio. As though she would sound like an angel singing
acapella. But when he'd heard her on the radio, though it sent a
chill through his bones, and made embarrassing areas on his body
tingle, he had no idea that she was so "hot" for lack of a better
word. She was sexy, but it was more than that. She was also very
beautiful, but it wasn't the mini skirt or the spiked heels in the
video that made her appear that way. It was something indescribable
in those mysterious eyes of hers, when they appeared to be looking at
him through the television.

He rubbed his eyes, and smoothed his chest again.

"Yeah, she's a regular hottie," said Dylan, grinning and indulging in
a roguish fantasy as her video ran to its conclusion.

***

Khrystine Morgan sat gingerly sipping her diet coke as her stylist
paraded several sets of outfits in front of her. In a span six
months, she couldn't believe how much her life had changed. It
wasn't so much materially, since she came from an upper middle class,
borderline wealthy family. At age twenty-two, even before she got
her break in the music business, she had experienced luxury that most
girls were never blessed with. When she was ten years old, she'd
been so taken with the horseback riding lessons that her father at
first insisted that she take, that he'd bought her a horse. By the
time she was sixteen years old, she was presented with her own keys
to a brand new car the week after she got her license. And although
the Morgan's had put away more than enough money for her to go to
Brown University, her fathers alma-matter, she opted not to go, much
to her families chagrin.

When Eddie Thompson heard her signing vocals over a DJ's sampling,
one late night at a party, he signed her on as a background singer.
She'd toured the country with the band, loving life on the road, even
though it was quite a different setting than the pampering she was
used to, doubling up with three band members in a small Super 8
motel. Although it was much less monetarily than she was used to
being surrounded with, she just loved going from city to city, seeing
the reaction of a theater full of screaming teenagers to Eddie
Thompson's smooth R&B vocals. Although Eddie Thompson was a very
successful singer, and a ladies man, he never once tried to hit on
Khrystine, opting instead to take her under his wing, trying to help
groom her for success. Eddie and his band went to Radio City on a
piggyback tour with three other acts to play a set, and fueled by a
dare with fellow background singers, Khrystine auditioned for amateur
night to sing at the Apollo theater. She was so good that they
bumped another act so she could go on the next night, and she won the
best new amateur act award for that week.

She never got to play a second week to see if she could win again.
Nor did it matter, because in that audience happened to be sitting an
executive for Gold Tone records. He took one listen to Khrystine's
alto, and signed her the next day right on the spot. That was where
her life had changed. She went in the studio and in two months, with
the help of JaQuon, she'd co written and co produced her first album,
sharing writing credits with him on five out of the ten songs she'd
created for the album. Even then, it all seemed like too much of a
dream when the sessions were all over and she got to hold her first
promotional albums, produced for all three formats, LP, tape, and
CD. Khrystine never believed that the album would do anything, it
would be just enough to tide her over until the next gig, and it
would be a great story to tell her kids, with the evidence to back it
up when she was tired of gigging, broke, and ready to enroll in Brown
University.

How surprised was she three months ago when she heard "Love Me Right
Boy", on HOT LA 105. She immediately called her best friend
Monique. "oooooooooohhhh my god we are on the radio," she screeched,
holding the phone up to her living room stereo. She was even more
surprised when in a span of three weeks, she had the number one song
in the country, on both the pop and r&b charts.

Her star had risen, and right along with it, her public profile. In
a matter of six months, she'd lost all anominty, and was waited on,
and courted in ways she could only dream about, even though she was
raised around opulence. It was one thing to have a maid who came to
your house to clean everyday when you were growing up, but it was a
whole new thing to have a stylist who put your shoes on your feet.

"Girl I am telling you, this is the dress for you," she said
motioning for Khrystine to stand up.

She stood up, still sipping her diet coke through her straw and she
didn't give much thought to it as Lela helped her slip the red
ensemble over her head. Her video shoot wasn't until next week, and
she had no idea why Lela was worrying about it now.

"Isn't this next week, Isn't the new video shoot next week,"
Khrystine said, wanting to be done with the trying on of the outfits
right now.

Khrystine loved clothes and makeup all her life, and she usually
adored trying on clothes however, she missed her sleep at this
moment. And she wanted to be alone right now and just sit with some
headphones on her head. It would be nice to have time to ponder.
She needed to assess JaQuon and whether or not she would accept his
offer to mix business with pleasure.

"Yes it is tomorrow, but we need you to look scrumptious. Do you
know that BET is coming to this shoot, and not only BET, but
seventeen, glamour, and Jet are going to do a write up on this new
video, this is big exposure Khrystine. You aren't gonna be just a
staple in `our' households. Every house in America is going to have
Khrystine Morgan blaring through their stereos. And its my job to
make sure you look as sexy as you are," said Lela pinching
Khrystine's cheek.

After the business with outfits was over, her makeup artist appeared,
beginning to treat her to a facial. She often wondered about
Quentin. He was the only makeup artist she'd seen in Hollywood that
actually tried to hit on her. Most of the makeup artists were trying
to be one of the girlfriends, not have one of their own. It seemed
strange for him to take such care and interest in making up her face
when he'd openly and honestly confessed that he'd like to make out
with her. To which she'd replied `I'll get back to you on that
one'.

He cracked her up though. She wondered if she should ask him for his
honest opinion about JaQuon, or if she should just sit and ponder
this mystery by herself. When she'd told her best friend Monique
that he'd approached her romantically, her friend had said `no way'.

" You two have a great producing and writing relationship, he
makes the dopest beats, and you write the hottest lyrics. You do not
need to be mixing that up with romance, because the work of the two
of you is going to go to pot. Plus, JaQuon is a jerk. You knew that
before you became famous. Everytime we turned around we would hear
reports about him getting into someone else's trousers. He is from
the old school of date em's and dump em's and he just wants to see
what you are like physically, and you will hate yourself for it, and
him too. Keep him on a professional level. With a joker like that
it has to be no ring no thing, because he is definitely out to use
women. Don't let him tell you any different. I mean he talks to
your chest. I know you are feeling a little lonely lately, but don't
fall for that sucker. You need to find yourself a good honest man,
even if he's not a Hollywood type," Monica had stated when she
suggested the idea of them going out on the phone last night.

She could remember every word that her best friend since the first
grade said, because as was often the case with Monique, she spoke
what was in Khrystine's gut but she hadn't yet articulated.
Khrystine knew he was a dog in the back of her mind, but he was
really fine, and it had been a long time since she'd had a
boyfriend. So what if she had a little fun, she didn't see what the
harm was. She didn't want JaQuon to marry her. However she couldn't
live with herself if he used her either. Maybe it was better to let
feelings that were beginning to simmer for him die down. They were
mainly based on his smooth brown skin, and rippled abs anyway.
Outside of writing, he'd never showed her any outstanding qualities,
besides being gorgeous. He was nearly outright rude to women at
times unless he was either writing songs with them, or trying to bed
them.

To free her mind, she turned on HOT LA 105 after the makeup artist
had left her sitting peacefully at the table with her Diet Coke and
avocado facial to replenish her pores. HOT LA 105 was a mixture of
all the popular songs on the current radio, playing rock r&b, and
everything in between except for country and western music. Although
there was a strictly r&b station, she often opted to listen to HOT LA
105 because that was the station that let her get a fix of the hard
rock music that she enjoyed, right next to the r&b that she adored.
Her friends, and family always chided her for listening to hard rock
music growing up, but there was something about the raw soul that
some of those white boys had, that blue eyed soul that really tickled
her ears. And she loved the raw power that the twang of the guitar
held. Nothing sounded better in her Audi cranked all the way up than
a hard rock song when she wanted to feel pumped. When she wanted to
feel pumped to her, hard rock was even better than rap. Of course
she wouldn't dare tell that to her friends and family, the wouldn't
understand, they thought her collection of music, with all her hard
rock CDs, and records stacked next to her r&b, classic soul, and rap
albums was strange enough. HOT LA 105 let her move seamlessly
through all her musical worlds.

The British pop sounding tune that was going off as she turned on the
radio was soon replaced by the loud, metal guitar's of G Flat Noise.
They were an incredible band. She thought their first two albums
were awesome, but this third album that she'd just picked up last
month was by far their best, because the lyrics were deep and
insightful. She liked the deep husk of Dylan Taylor's voice, he
reminded her of what a budding blues singer would sound like, as
their voice began to crack. Unlike some modern hard rock singers,
his angry howl held a truly talented soulful voice beneath the
surface. And he could play an electric guitar. He didn't do much
complicated riffing, but he still played with a loose and open style
she adored. It was a shame he was so good looking, because she felt
like it kept the press from taking him seriously. Last month she'd
picked up rolling stone, and the cover story had read Dylan Taylor,
guitar swinging sex symbol. It should have read Dylan Taylor, Baby
Bluesman, and guitar wizard extraordinaire in her mind, but she
understood. Music was a business and she was just beginning to learn
that artists like she and Dylan were a commodity. Not only were they
talented artists, but they were cute kids too. Cute kids sold
magazines to teenagers.

She slipped out of her reverie just long enough to hear the song
Howling Woman go off the air.

"These boys are playing the Civic Stadium this Saturday, at 9:00 PM.
If you want to get tickets, you know what to do," the MC said.

Of course, Khrystine wasn't going to call for tickets, she had
quickly learned she was beyond that stage in her life now. She
summoned her personal assistant with a quick cell phone call.

"Mike, I want tickets to hear G-Flat-Noise on Saturday," said
Khrystine.

"But babe you are going to that charity dinner," said Mike

"Yeah, babe, but G-Flat-Noise doesn't play until 9:00. I'll do my
good deed at the dinner, and slip out at 8:30. Please, I never ask
you guys for anything, I do every interview, every magazine cover
shoot, every video that you schedule me for. I worked 20 hours
yesterday. I've had two hours sleep. Just do this for me. I need a
break," said Khrystine, her voice beginning to crack a little.

"Okay babe, whatever it takes to make you happy, you want it, you got
it, that's what being the next big r&b pop star is all about. So
you've got front row. I don't know what it is you hear in those
crazy boys going around screaming their heads off an sounding like
they are beating on garbage pails but if that's what you want, that's
what I'll get for you," said Mike.

Sometimes mike was so paternalistic. She just laughed, knowing he
wouldn't understand.

"You just don't stay out too late, and don't scream too loud and ruin
your voice. And you'll need an escort," added mike.

"No, no escort. This is a break from my music for one night. I
don't want to go as a star, I want to go as Khrystine," Khrystine
said.

"You can't have both babe. I won't send an escort, but I'll be by
the phone every second in case something happens," added Mike.

He did worry about some of the rabid g-flat-noise fans discovering
Khrystine, and pawing all over her, but he said nothing about his
fears, resolving instead to get her the tickets.

Khrystine smiled, hanging up the phone. Although she sang the best
genre of music on the earth, there was something about hard rock that
was refreshing. And she'd seen G-Flat-Noise on TV. They were in the
words of one of her valley girl friends "totally kicking", thought
Khrystine.

After her makeup artist returned and washed and powdered her face,
she went down to Studio 11 to practice her choreography routine for
her music video shoot next week.

***
On Saturday, Khrystine woke up early, had a light breakfast of
Special K and Orange Juice, did one call in to a radio station in
Dallas to do an interview. The rest of the day she spent flipping
through magazines and watching TV in the company of her best friend
Monique before the charity dinner that evening.

"So why are you leaving the charity dinner early? There are gonna be
a lot of big time actors there," added Monique.

"Well, I know that. But I got Mike to get me tickets to the G-Flat-
Noise concert," said Khrystine with a grin.

"You mean that screaming boy that sings the Howling Woman song that
you love, oh lord," laughed Monique.

"What do you mean oh lord. Ignore the title. Howling Woman is a
good song. Don't you love his voice, it's husky, and it's tortured,"
said Khrystine, trying to hide her excitement, knowing she was about
to get teased.

"Come off of it Khrys. You know you think those white boys slinging
their hair around are sexy. You also know that howling wolfs, or
whoever they are, you know they sound like they are screaming for
their very lives," laughed Monique.

"Oh yeah, well you liked that song that I played for you by
them called Tortured Lives. Well anyway, I got a second ticket to
the show, but just for that, I'm not asking you to go," teased
Khrystine.

"OH I'm so very disappointed," teased Monica with mock anguish.

"I'm sure you are," said Khrystine rolling her eyes.

"Well girl, I'm gonna let you get ready to go to this charity
dinner. Kiss Denzel for me. Get his autograph If you are feeling
extra nice. And be careful going to that hard rock concert with a
bunch of other crazy young people. Yourself included," added Monica.

"I will, I will. Don't nag me. You are only four months older than
me," teased Khrystine.

"I'll nag when I feel like it. And anyway, I'm going to leave my
cell phone on so you can call me if you need me. One thing I'll say
is that you are such a character. I'd like to see you there, doing
some of that head banging, or whatever it is you do when you shake
your head all crazy in the car to that mess," teased Monica.

"It's the same way you shake your booty to JaQuon's rap beats,"
laughed Khrystine, as Monique bid her goodbye.

After Monique Left, Khrystine was free to dress for the charity
dinner. Since none of her assistants were present, she had
the "luxury" of dressing herself, and opted for a gold slip dress and
gold high heel sandals. She'd painted her toenails a gold color
earlier in the day along with Monica, so she opted for no panty hose,
and she brushed her naturally shoulder length hair so that it framed
her shoulders before heading out of the door and getting in her
convertible Audi.

It only then occurred to her that she would be a bit overdressed for
the G-Flat-Noise concert, but there would be no time for her to get
on the LA freeway and go all the way back to her condo before going
to the civic stadium. She'd just have to be a little more dressed up
than her fellow headbangers, smiled Khrystine to herself.

***
During the entire charity dinner, Khrystine had been dreaming about
the G-Flat-Noise Concert, even as old Hollywood legends pinched her
cheek and told her about what a wonderful first single she had, and
how great it was that she was concerned about helping the
environment. Although she liked meeting the legends, compared to
front row tickets at a sold out rock concert she was dying to go to,
it seemed a little bit boring. Though successful beyond her years,
she was still a typical twenty-one year old. She cut out of the
banquet fifteen minutes earlier than planned.

She did eighty-five on the freeway, racing to the civic stadium, and
then struggled to find parking in the underground area under the dome
like structure. After finding a space near a light, a necessity when
alone in Los Angeles at Night, she got on the elevator, taking it up
into the stadium.

At ground level, she went to find her seats in the front row. She
was jammed between two blond people, one male, and one female, who
appeared to be the same age she was, but Khrystine appeared older
because she was dressed to the nines. No one else in the stadium
looked like her, and it had nothing to do with color, just that most
of the kids were clad in jeans, or leather, and sneakers, or boots.
It didn't matter. She just came to see the show and she would
inconspicuously slip out of the front row before the show was over.

The blond girl sitting beside her pulled her bubble gum with her
fingers as she chewed it, twisting it around her pinky.

"You've got to be the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," said the
girl, who had a thick new jersey accent, though she was from LA.

It was a strange compliment, but Khrystine smiled anyway.

"Thank you," she said softly, humbly.

Although people thought she was beautiful before she was famous, she
never looked at herself as attractive, she just saw Khrystine when
she looked in the mirror.

"No, I'm serious, and it's not the dress," added the girl.

"thanks," said Khrystine absentmindedly.

She was ready for the show, and felt a tinge of disappointment as the
bland opening act graced the stage.

"You like G-Note," said the girl.

"Love them," said Khrystine.

"That's weird. Cool but weird," said the girl eyeing Khrystine
strangely.

Khrystine was used to getting this reaction when she went to rock
concerts, but she was sure it had more to do with her attire than
with the color of her skin in this instance. At any rate the girl
sitting beside her seemed nice enough, though she was rather chatty.
Khrystine was pretty sure the young woman had no clue about her
song, "Love Me Right Boy", and she was glad.

Although the young woman had been chatty to the point of annoying
during the opening act, Khrystine breathed a sigh of relief when she
was quiet as G-Note-Flat graced the stage.

***
Dylan Taylor looked into the audience, preparing himself as he
strummed the opening notes to their current hit "Howling Woman", in a
clean, straight forward, yet cleverly disguised lead in riff.

He always glanced at the faces in the front row to try to get a feel
for the audience he would be playing for, to try to put a face to a
stadium that appeared to be filled with little flecks of pepper from
his perspective on the stage. However, he could always see the faces
in the front row, and that helped him put a human face on the throng
of adoring followers that turned up to their gigs throughout the
world.

This evening, he saw a strange sight as he scanned the front row.
There appeared to be a very well dressed black woman sitting front
row, center stage. It wasn't the fact that she was black that made
her stand out as much as her fancy attire. He wondered if she was a
fan of the band, or just some type of press agent. It was too dark
for him to tell, but she was a snazzy dresser, if you liked that sort
of thing.

His scanning of the front row completed, Dylan shouted to the
audience.

"Does Los Angeles want to rock,"

And the crowd hollered.

"I said, does Los Angeles want to rock," repeated Dylan.

The crowed screamed again, and this time young black woman was in
with the revelers, putting her hands up in the air, in a rock on dude
type stance along with the other revelers.

It was at this point that Dylan got the answer to his question about
the well dressed black woman. She wasn't a PR agent. She came to
rock.

Dylan said "I see you momma," but didn't point directly at the young
black woman. For some reason he didn't want to draw undue attention
to her, because she was so well dressed.

At that point, he had to take his eyes away from her delightful
oddity, lest it distract him from the show.

In his black running shorts, slightly muddy combat boots, a bandanna
tied around his arm, his olive body already glistening with sweat
before the performance, he drew the primal teenage scream out of the
young women in the audience before he sang a note.

"You're my howlin woman momma yeah," mumbled Dylan softly, kneeling
laying his head straight back against the stage and beginning to
strum his guitar.

The crowd really went wild for him as he gyrated lightly, tilting the
guitar slightly in the air. At this point he stopped teasing the
audience, standing up, strumming his true opening riff.

As he sang, he sort of kicked, and swiveled his way along to the
rhythm, letting it guide him as it would, as he strummed freely. He
loved to pluck his guitar before a live crowd, because although he
stuck to the original enough so that the band and the fans would
recognize the song, live stage let him improvise according to his
mood, and the desires of his fans. He spun a slightly complicated
riff, yelling, pick it up ant, and ant began drumming as though he
was beating the rhythm to a military procession, only ten times as
fast, gliding seamlessly into their next hit, "Tortured Souls".

He played facing Long Armed Larry, letting Larry give it and take it
back with matching chord progressions until the bass guitarist
couldn't take it anymore, calling out playfully I fold, as the
audience clapped and cheered.

"How many people out here know what I'm talking about? I'm just a
hard workin' man at the end of the day. I'm a hard working man that
plays for my fans," he half screamed, half sang into the microphone.

"Where are all my hard working men at," asked Dylan to the audience.

He played two more songs, before the show had an intermission. Hard
working man though he was, his vocal chords could use a snatch of
Budweiser, and or Lemon Tea, or he didn't know how hard he could long
he could keep singing without wetting his throat.

"Time for Budweiser," said Dylan.

The fans screamed.

It seemed everything he said the fans screamed, even when he referred
to his love of beer. After he turned his round, yet muscular behind
toward the audience and swaggered away, the lights came up on the
stadium full blast.

***

Khrystine thought about getting a mixed drink during the shows
intermission, but opted against the idea. She didn't want to appear
lonesome, but she would appear lonesome at the concession stand by
herself ordering a drink. Deciding to sit and wait for the band to
return she occupied herself by dangling her high heeled shoe on her
big toe, and trying not to drop it. She was quite involved in this
self amusement, followed by examining her cuticles when she felt a
tap on her shoulder.

It came from a well dressed blonde man standing directly in front of
her. She felt a bit uncomfortable that he'd just reached out and
touched her bare shoulder, and she recoiled a little. His designer
suit, impeccable wing tips, and horn rimed glasses made her think
that he was some sort of business man, or reporter.

"Are you Khrystine Morgan," asked the man.

"In the flesh, shhh, I'm trying to be incognito this evening," she
added looking around to see if anyone had heard.

"Well it's going to be hard for you to be incognito in your trademark
mini dress and high heeled shoes. As soon as the lights came up, I
knew who you were," explained the business man.

"Well, I was at an event, and didn't have time to change. Wait. Who
are you, and why am I explaining myself to you," said Khrystine, her
tone getting a little aggressive, as she squared her shoulders.

It felt silly to be explaining her attire to some bozo in a suit that
she didn't know.

"You look stunning darling, really you don't have to explain yourself
to me. I'm Chad Stevens," he said extending his hand to her.

Khrystine shook it absentmindedly, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow
upward, because she had no clue who Chad Stevens was.

"I thought that would mean something to you Ms. Morgan, but you are
new to the business, and you aren't really in the rock music business
anyway. I am the PR Agent for Dylan Taylor, and G-Note-Flat. I'm
one of those behind the scenes type guys," added Chad.

"Oh I see. I never really knew how many behind the scenes type guys
there were until I cut my record. So maybe we'll bump into each
other again," added Khrystine, smiling graciously, letting all of her
big, beautiful pearly white teeth show, hoping that Chad would get
the message, and realize the conversation had petered out.

He was beginning to wear on her nerves like a cheap suit with his
phony camaraderie with her.

"Actually I will probably be bumping into you back stage. G-Note's
drummer Ant saw you when he was standing behind the wings over there,
and the band would like to meet you backstage after their show,"
added Chad.

"I don't know," said Khrystine, her voice wavering.

She felt hesitant about going backstage to meet a band, who had
legendary tales spun about their life backstage, and at their hotel
after parties. It could be dreadful if some nosy reporter saw her
going back to meet the band, and conjured up some fake, juicy story,
complete with pictures of her going behind the scenes to meet them.
What was more, even if no one saw her, she knew about the reputation
of that Dylan Taylor, before she was famous, and he probably thought
he would ask her backstage and see if she was nothing more than a
glorified groupie.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

"They really want to meet you, and this will be a great press story,
a little thing about meeting the band in the papers the next day,
could drop your name in circles that wouldn't ordinarily hear about
you. They might even be curious to pick up your LP to see who you
are. Everything's honest with me, seriously. The band loves to meet
anyone in the business who comes to see their show, not just gorgeous
r&b singers. Please do us the honor," begged Chad.

"Well umm…Okay," said Khrystine very quickly, answering before her
better judgment commanded her tongue.

There was something so compelling about a band as popular as G-Note-
Flat begging to meet her. She really had arrived. Dylan's Talent
had moved her before she was famous, and she respected him as being a
true musician, whose popularity rested on more than just his striking
features. And a tiny piece of her wanted to see how gorgeous Dylan
Taylor really was when he was standing three feet away from her. Was
he as gorgeous as he looked under the stage lights tonight, in the
magazines and on MTV? She would know after the second set.

***

Backstage Ant and Dylan were engrossed in conversation.

"Dude this is so cool that Khrystine came to our show," said Dylan.

"It is cool. She doesn't look like a chick that would dig rock
music, but I say everything is open and free. What I want to know
is,"

"If she's really hot," finished Dylan for Ant.

"Well, she looked like it from the front row. Who knew that well
dressed black chick that I called momma was Khrystine Morgan. I just
hope she doesn't know I was talking to her when I said momma,"
chuckled Dylan.

"I oughta tell her when she comes back here. She looks like the kind
of woman who would chew up a man, spit him out, and not think twice,"
said Ant.

"Aren't all Hollywood babe's like that," teased Dylan.

Although he tried to play it cool, his heart was fluttering a little
because he was excited to meet Khrystine Morgan in person, the pretty
chocolate hued girl whose husky alto was capable of doing strange
things to his body over an airwave. In person she must really be
something, thought Dylan.

He came out to play the second set five minutes earlier than he
planned, and Long Armed Larry teased, the sooner the show is over,
the sooner we see the babe.

***

The second half of the show had been more exciting than the first,
and she found herself standing and cheering right along side the bold
young blond woman from New Jersey, as though it was her first rock
concert, and like she had never known the glory of singing onstage
herself.

Right before the band performed their encore performance, she felt a
pair of slightly sweaty hands grip both of her wrists. The hands
felt husky and her first reaction was to flinch.

"Come Now," said the voice huskily.

Khrystine's first reaction was to scream.

"Shhhhhh…..Chad Stevens sent me out here to get you now before the
lights come up, so that you won't be in danger. You should be more
careful in the future. There was a lot of buzz around, even I heard
it, that Khrystine Morgan was somewhere in the audience. Those kids
could have mobbed you," added the voice.

"Who the heck are you," whispered Khrystine loudly.

"The bodyguard for the band, come on," he said gripping her wrists
and effortlessly leading her out of her seat, as the band closed
their set, and the curtains went down.

G-Note-Flat was heading backstage at the exact same time Khrystine
was.

Khrystine was seated in the lobby backstage, and asked by the balding
body guard if there was anything she would like

"Evian would be lovely," said Khrystine.

Five minutes later, he returned with her Evian, and Khrystine heard a
loud thumping sound begin behind her head. It sounded like somewhere
a party had started full swing in a matter of five minutes. At one
point it literally sounded like a human body, or a base guitar was
thrown up against the wall behind her head. It was hard for her to
tell just what it was that made contact with the wall, but it seemed
like a really wild party was brewing. She knew this was probably the
bands after party, and she quickly got up from her seat.

Khrystine was about to bail. For one thing, the band was waiting
entirely too long to let her go back and meet them. However, most
importantly, she was beginning to grow afraid to meet the band,
because every two minutes, the level of noise escalated triple fold,
and she could hear their loud music being played in the background as
a party soundtrack. It made her wonder if the rumors were true, and
if so, how many groupies were back there. She got up out of her
chair and walked swiftly toward the door, switching, her long,
oriental looking straight black hair blowing in the breeze behind her.

As soon as she got through the door frame, she collided softly into a
person, and it took her a little while to realize that she was
staring up into Dylan Taylor's neck. He was in his classic attire,
shirtless, wearing black strech pants, and combat boots, and she
closed her eyes because she was eye level with his incredibly muscled
olive colored chest.

"I'm so sorry," said Khrystine, closing her eyes as though she'd
walked in on Dylan bare.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm glad I was able to get out of there before you
bolted. That's where you were headed. Dylan Taylor, I'm the reason
you were summoned back here,' added Dylan, his lips curling up into a
slight grin.

The slight grin highlighted his really thin mustache and small but
well groomed goatee to such a degree that Khrystine looked at his
mouth, as though realizing he had the facial hair for the first time.

"No I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I almost left. There was a lot of
noise going on back there so I didn't know what to expect,' added
Khrystine softly.

"That was my fault, I really tried to get away from all the commotion
back there, so I could greet you. Chad was going to come out and get
you, and invite you into the next room over, but that room isn't
really conducive to conversation, and I just thought I might like to
talk to you a minute. That is, if you want to talk," he said
gesturing for her to have a seat on the couch as she sat across from
him.

"Sure I'd love to talk. That's what the PR agent said. He said that
you all liked to meet anyone in the business who came to see your
shows," added Khrystine with a soft smile, crossing one of her long
legs.

"And you bought that, he's getting phonier all the time," laughed
Dylan.

Khrystine didn't see what was funny and she raised one of her
perfectly arched eyebrows upward.

"So that was a joke to get me back here," said Khrystine, her tone
getting slightly aggressive.

"Woah, relax, take it easy. I was only kidding. I really wanted to
meet you after our drummer Ant saw you. I just wanted to thank you
for coming to check us out, and to let you know that I'm a big fan of
your new single," added Dylan.

"My single," said Khrystine truly flattered.

"You've heard my single. And you like it. Get out of here," added
Khrystine.

"Woman are you kidding you cannot turn on Hot LA 105 without hearing
Khrystine Morgan," he said affecting his voice so that it sounded
like a radio announcer.

"Well I'm hoping so. Maybe in the end I'll sell as many records as G-
Flat-Noise," laughed Khrystine.

"I'd say that you are heading in the right direction," said Dylan,
grinning.

Dylan had a nice smile. Though his lips were on the thin side, his
light brown goatee, and the true cherry redness of his lips made them
almost resemble some type of candy. She felt as though he could see
through her when she looked into his hazel eyes however and she
quickly averted her glance.

"I can't believe you listen to my music. You don't appear to be the
type of person who would listen to my song on the radio," said
Khrystine, talking more to her gold high-heeled shoe than Dylan.

Although she was normally full of self-confidence, and more than
composed, something about his rugged handsomeness unnerved her and
made her not want to look directly at him, for fear that he would see
that she found him very attractive. She definitely didn't want him
to think she was flirting with him. She and Dylan Taylor couldn't
come from two more different places in life.

"Well, we shouldn't judge books by their covers, because before
tonight, I would have never believed you would come to a G-Flat-Noise
concert," added Dylan.

"You have a point there, but I've loved rock music since I was small,
added Khrystine,"

"That's the same way that I love r&b," said Dylan.

"Who are some of your favorites," inquired Khrystine.

"Oh lets see, Sade, Anita Baker, Regina Belle, Khrystine Morgan,"
said Dylan enumerating on his fingers.

Khrystine laughed.

"You've got a good sense of humor. Putting me up there with Anita
and Regina. Lets see as far as rock musicians go, I like old stuff.
You didn't name any old stuff. I like Zeppelin, and Hendrix, Deep
Purple, and the Greatful Dead. As far as new stuff, G-Flat-Noise,
Metallica, Guns-N-Roses, Megadeath," added Khrystine.

"Woah, you like some heavy stuff. Its good stuff, but its heavier
than I pictured you listening to," said Dylan.

"Its not heavy. Hard Rock music lets me be free. I can get rid of
all that crazy pent up energy listening to the metal and the raw
power behind the vocals," added Khrystine.

"Well that's why I play Hard Rock. It's a release. Maybe you might
decide to play hard rock too. You've certainly listened to the
masters. Really, when I said earlier I couldn't picture you
listening to the bands that you dig is cuz…well, to be honest, you
look waaay to beautiful to listen to Metallica, as stereotypical as
that may sound," added Dylan with a chuckle.

Khrystine had been picking up on flirty little things that Dylan had
been doing since they were talking, the first was making deliberate
eye contact with her, even when she willed her eyes to look in the
other direction. The second thing was that he kept shifting his body
so that he was easing closer, and closer to her on the couch as
though she wouldn't notice. Thirdly, he'd draped his arm around the
side of the couch and tilted his body completely toward hers. She
wasn't watching him, but she could surely feel his eyes on her.
However, how that he'd gone right out and called her beautiful, she
began realizing that he was openly flirting with her. Although she
had really enjoyed their conversation up to the flirtatious remark,
she began to reevaluate his friendly smile, and the draping of his
body across the couch that kept getting closer, and closer to her in
light of his previous statement. She wondered what made him feel
bold enough to utter his last phrase. Did he think that she would
fall all over him simply because he told her that she was beautiful.
Or was he trying to make her blush so he could run back and tell all
his bandmates that he flirted with Khrystine Morgan, and she ate it
up with a spoon.

His flirtation made her very uncomfortable, and she looked at him,
cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrow.

"You know what Dylan, it was nice meeting you, but I have to go now.
I have another commitment," she said glancing at her new gold
designer watch.

"Hey wait, I was just getting to know you a little bit, let me get
your number," added Dylan, suddenly embarrassed after he uttered the
statement because he never asked for girls numbers. He usually left
them begging for his.

"I don't even know you Dylan Taylor. Yeah it was nice meeting you
and all that, and thank you for inviting me backstage, but if you
need to talk business, have your people call my people. My PR
agent's name is Mike. I'm sure Chad knows who he is. See you
around," said Khrystine, grabbing her purse and making a very hasty
retreat from the backstage area.

She opened the door to her silver convertible Audi, let the top down,
and sped off through the parking lot, scaring some older person who
was backing out by daring them to continue, driving almost
dangerously down the ramps and onto the busy LA streets, only slowing
down enough to see her way clear before she pulled off to the highway
full speed ahead. Boy was she mad at that arrogant Dylan Taylor. He
thought he could come onto her with some cheesy lines, and she would
just take the bate and do his bidding. She supposed that's what he
thought. It angered her that she wasn't able to see though his
phony, `I just want to get to know you better, I'm a big fan of your
music', act. The rumors about Dylan Taylor were really true. He was
out to explore every woman that he found attractive. Well she wasn't
just any woman, Khrystine Morgan wouldn't be `loose' for any man.
And even if he wasn't out to bed her, and he was sincere in his
compliment, a man like Dylan Taylor simply wanted his seven minutes
of difference. Not only was he white, but he was a rock musician.
What business would he really want with a black r&b star, other than
to see what it was like to have been with `Khrystine Morgan', or
someone other young female music upstart.
Chapter 1

Dylan Taylor sprawled across the bed, flicking his long brown hair in
the other direction. His eardrums were still vibrating from the show
last night. It was difficult to tell whether they were vibrating
because of all the screaming fans, or the loud roar of his guitar
tuned to an open G, as he spilled his soul out to the audiences.
Sometimes he wondered if they were listening to his intimate thought
spilling, or if they were looking at him as Dylan Taylor, rock sex
symbol extraordinaire. The band was giving him grief for the latter,
teasing him night and day about his pinup poster looks. His hazel
brown eyes, fine features, and smooth olive complexion, and rippled
chest did little to quell the desire of the press to market him as an
idol. At the end of the day all Dylan wanted was to rock.

He didn't remember what Ant, the drummer was doing sprawled across
the couch in his room. He was guessing from looking around and
feeling his pounding headache that the band had gotten up to some
wild party last night. Though many rumors circulated about the wild
parties of G Flat Noise, Dylan was never a part of the wild
partying. He usually sat in the back of the room, or lay on the bed,
downing half a six pack, and watching the craziness around him, or
pouting, scrawling lyrics on the back of a napkin. Granted he was
not a saint, and he had a few liaisons with a few beautiful women,
but never anything wild like the magazines reported, and never
anything serious.

Somehow, the Grand Vista hotels television had gotten turned to MTV.
Once again, this wasn't Dylan's channel surfing. This was probably
Long Armed Larry, the Bass Guitarists channel selection. Larry liked
to watch headbangers ball, because it helped put him to sleep. Dylan
liked to get a break from Hard Rock music sometimes when he wasn't
gigging, or writing, so he didn't normally turn on MTV. However, he
began watching it, because it was already selected. This must have
been r&b and rap programming, because he'd just caught the end of two
scratch master artists, rhyming over beats.

The next video however caught his attention, and apparently Ant's
attention as well, because he said. "Dude, get a look at that black
chick. She's hot,"

"Get a life," replied Dylan.

"She wouldn't want you anyway loser. Actually she is kind of hot.
She's got really long legs. Nice skin too. Kinda chocolaty, pretty
smile," added Dylan with a smile, sizing up the girl.

"Who is she anyway," asked Ant.

"Some new girl. It sounds like Khrystine Morgan," added Dylan.

"I figured you would know," said Ant.

Dylan had listened to r&b music since he was a small boy, and
although many modern acts didn't do it for him, he did keep up with
the genre as best as he could, while living in the rock and roll
scene. Many of the new artists he noticed would be nothing if it
were not for some Hocus Pocus magician performing studio wizardry on
their vocals, and supplying them with a kicking backbeat. But one
thing he'd noticed when he listened to HOT LA 105 that morning when
he first heard Khrystine Morgan was her incredible voice. Though she
did have the obligatory modern day studio drum kit accompaniment,
here was a girl that sounded like she had a lick of talent outside of
the studio. As though she would sound like an angel singing
acapella. But when he'd heard her on the radio, though it sent a
chill through his bones, and made embarrassing areas on his body
tingle, he had no idea that she was so "hot" for lack of a better
word. She was sexy, but it was more than that. She was also very
beautiful, but it wasn't the mini skirt or the spiked heels in the
video that made her appear that way. It was something indescribable
in those mysterious eyes of hers, when they appeared to be looking at
him through the television.

He rubbed his eyes, and smoothed his chest again.

"Yeah, she's a regular hottie," said Dylan, grinning and indulging in
a roguish fantasy as her video ran to its conclusion.

***

Khrystine Morgan sat gingerly sipping her diet coke as her stylist
paraded several sets of outfits in front of her. In a span six
months, she couldn't believe how much her life had changed. It
wasn't so much materially, since she came from an upper middle class,
borderline wealthy family. At age twenty-two, even before she got
her break in the music business, she had experienced luxury that most
girls were never blessed with. When she was ten years old, she'd
been so taken with the horseback riding lessons that her father at
first insisted that she take, that he'd bought her a horse. By the
time she was sixteen years old, she was presented with her own keys
to a brand new car the week after she got her license. And although
the Morgan's had put away more than enough money for her to go to
Brown University, her fathers alma-matter, she opted not to go, much
to her families chagrin.

When Eddie Thompson heard her signing vocals over a DJ's sampling,
one late night at a party, he signed her on as a background singer.
She'd toured the country with the band, loving life on the road, even
though it was quite a different setting than the pampering she was
used to, doubling up with three band members in a small Super 8
motel. Although it was much less monetarily than she was used to
being surrounded with, she just loved going from city to city, seeing
the reaction of a theater full of screaming teenagers to Eddie
Thompson's smooth R&B vocals. Although Eddie Thompson was a very
successful singer, and a ladies man, he never once tried to hit on
Khrystine, opting instead to take her under his wing, trying to help
groom her for success. Eddie and his band went to Radio City on a
piggyback tour with three other acts to play a set, and fueled by a
dare with fellow background singers, Khrystine auditioned for amateur
night to sing at the Apollo theater. She was so good that they
bumped another act so she could go on the next night, and she won the
best new amateur act award for that week.

She never got to play a second week to see if she could win again.
Nor did it matter, because in that audience happened to be sitting an
executive for Gold Tone records. He took one listen to Khrystine's
alto, and signed her the next day right on the spot. That was where
her life had changed. She went in the studio and in two months, with
the help of JaQuon, she'd co written and co produced her first album,
sharing writing credits with him on five out of the ten songs she'd
created for the album. Even then, it all seemed like too much of a
dream when the sessions were all over and she got to hold her first
promotional albums, produced for all three formats, LP, tape, and
CD. Khrystine never believed that the album would do anything, it
would be just enough to tide her over until the next gig, and it
would be a great story to tell her kids, with the evidence to back it
up when she was tired of gigging, broke, and ready to enroll in Brown
University.

How surprised was she three months ago when she heard "Love Me Right
Boy", on HOT LA 105. She immediately called her best friend
Monique. "oooooooooohhhh my god we are on the radio," she screeched,
holding the phone up to her living room stereo. She was even more
surprised when in a span of three weeks, she had the number one song
in the country, on both the pop and r&b charts.

Her star had risen, and right along with it, her public profile. In
a matter of six months, she'd lost all anominty, and was waited on,
and courted in ways she could only dream about, even though she was
raised around opulence. It was one thing to have a maid who came to
your house to clean everyday when you were growing up, but it was a
whole new thing to have a stylist who put your shoes on your feet.

"Girl I am telling you, this is the dress for you," she said
motioning for Khrystine to stand up.

She stood up, still sipping her diet coke through her straw and she
didn't give much thought to it as Lela helped her slip the red
ensemble over her head. Her video shoot wasn't until next week, and
she had no idea why Lela was worrying about it now.

"Isn't this next week, Isn't the new video shoot next week,"
Khrystine said, wanting to be done with the trying on of the outfits
right now.

Khrystine loved clothes and makeup all her life, and she usually
adored trying on clothes however, she missed her sleep at this
moment. And she wanted to be alone right now and just sit with some
headphones on her head. It would be nice to have time to ponder.
She needed to assess JaQuon and whether or not she would accept his
offer to mix business with pleasure.

"Yes it is tomorrow, but we need you to look scrumptious. Do you
know that BET is coming to this shoot, and not only BET, but
seventeen, glamour, and Jet are going to do a write up on this new
video, this is big exposure Khrystine. You aren't gonna be just a
staple in `our' households. Every house in America is going to have
Khrystine Morgan blaring through their stereos. And its my job to
make sure you look as sexy as you are," said Lela pinching
Khrystine's cheek.

After the business with outfits was over, her makeup artist appeared,
beginning to treat her to a facial. She often wondered about
Quentin. He was the only makeup artist she'd seen in Hollywood that
actually tried to hit on her. Most of the makeup artists were trying
to be one of the girlfriends, not have one of their own. It seemed
strange for him to take such care and interest in making up her face
when he'd openly and honestly confessed that he'd like to make out
with her. To which she'd replied `I'll get back to you on that
one'.

He cracked her up though. She wondered if she should ask him for his
honest opinion about JaQuon, or if she should just sit and ponder
this mystery by herself. When she'd told her best friend Monique
that he'd approached her romantically, her friend had said `no way'.

" You two have a great producing and writing relationship, he
makes the dopest beats, and you write the hottest lyrics. You do not
need to be mixing that up with romance, because the work of the two
of you is going to go to pot. Plus, JaQuon is a jerk. You knew that
before you became famous. Everytime we turned around we would hear
reports about him getting into someone else's trousers. He is from
the old school of date em's and dump em's and he just wants to see
what you are like physically, and you will hate yourself for it, and
him too. Keep him on a professional level. With a joker like that
it has to be no ring no thing, because he is definitely out to use
women. Don't let him tell you any different. I mean he talks to
your chest. I know you are feeling a little lonely lately, but don't
fall for that sucker. You need to find yourself a good honest man,
even if he's not a Hollywood type," Monica had stated when she
suggested the idea of them going out on the phone last night.

She could remember every word that her best friend since the first
grade said, because as was often the case with Monique, she spoke
what was in Khrystine's gut but she hadn't yet articulated.
Khrystine knew he was a dog in the back of her mind, but he was
really fine, and it had been a long time since she'd had a
boyfriend. So what if she had a little fun, she didn't see what the
harm was. She didn't want JaQuon to marry her. However she couldn't
live with herself if he used her either. Maybe it was better to let
feelings that were beginning to simmer for him die down. They were
mainly based on his smooth brown skin, and rippled abs anyway.
Outside of writing, he'd never showed her any outstanding qualities,
besides being gorgeous. He was nearly outright rude to women at
times unless he was either writing songs with them, or trying to bed
them.

To free her mind, she turned on HOT LA 105 after the makeup artist
had left her sitting peacefully at the table with her Diet Coke and
avocado facial to replenish her pores. HOT LA 105 was a mixture of
all the popular songs on the current radio, playing rock r&b, and
everything in between except for country and western music. Although
there was a strictly r&b station, she often opted to listen to HOT LA
105 because that was the station that let her get a fix of the hard
rock music that she enjoyed, right next to the r&b that she adored.
Her friends, and family always chided her for listening to hard rock
music growing up, but there was something about the raw soul that
some of those white boys had, that blue eyed soul that really tickled
her ears. And she loved the raw power that the twang of the guitar
held. Nothing sounded better in her Audi cranked all the way up than
a hard rock song when she wanted to feel pumped. When she wanted to
feel pumped to her, hard rock was even better than rap. Of course
she wouldn't dare tell that to her friends and family, the wouldn't
understand, they thought her collection of music, with all her hard
rock CDs, and records stacked next to her r&b, classic soul, and rap
albums was strange enough. HOT LA 105 let her move seamlessly
through all her musical worlds.

The British pop sounding tune that was going off as she turned on the
radio was soon replaced by the loud, metal guitar's of G Flat Noise.
They were an incredible band. She thought their first two albums
were awesome, but this third album that she'd just picked up last
month was by far their best, because the lyrics were deep and
insightful. She liked the deep husk of Dylan Taylor's voice, he
reminded her of what a budding blues singer would sound like, as
their voice began to crack. Unlike some modern hard rock singers,
his angry howl held a truly talented soulful voice beneath the
surface. And he could play an electric guitar. He didn't do much
complicated riffing, but he still played with a loose and open style
she adored. It was a shame he was so good looking, because she felt
like it kept the press from taking him seriously. Last month she'd
picked up rolling stone, and the cover story had read Dylan Taylor,
guitar swinging sex symbol. It should have read Dylan Taylor, Baby
Bluesman, and guitar wizard extraordinaire in her mind, but she
understood. Music was a business and she was just beginning to learn
that artists like she and Dylan were a commodity. Not only were they
talented artists, but they were cute kids too. Cute kids sold
magazines to teenagers.

She slipped out of her reverie just long enough to hear the song
Howling Woman go off the air.

"These boys are playing the Civic Stadium this Saturday, at 9:00 PM.
If you want to get tickets, you know what to do," the MC said.

Of course, Khrystine wasn't going to call for tickets, she had
quickly learned she was beyond that stage in her life now. She
summoned her personal assistant with a quick cell phone call.

"Mike, I want tickets to hear G-Flat-Noise on Saturday," said
Khrystine.

"But babe you are going to that charity dinner," said Mike

"Yeah, babe, but G-Flat-Noise doesn't play until 9:00. I'll do my
good deed at the dinner, and slip out at 8:30. Please, I never ask
you guys for anything, I do every interview, every magazine cover
shoot, every video that you schedule me for. I worked 20 hours
yesterday. I've had two hours sleep. Just do this for me. I need a
break," said Khrystine, her voice beginning to crack a little.

"Okay babe, whatever it takes to make you happy, you want it, you got
it, that's what being the next big r&b pop star is all about. So
you've got front row. I don't know what it is you hear in those
crazy boys going around screaming their heads off an sounding like
they are beating on garbage pails but if that's what you want, that's
what I'll get for you," said Mike.

Sometimes mike was so paternalistic. She just laughed, knowing he
wouldn't understand.

"You just don't stay out too late, and don't scream too loud and ruin
your voice. And you'll need an escort," added mike.

"No, no escort. This is a break from my music for one night. I
don't want to go as a star, I want to go as Khrystine," Khrystine
said.

"You can't have both babe. I won't send an escort, but I'll be by
the phone every second in case something happens," added Mike.

He did worry about some of the rabid g-flat-noise fans discovering
Khrystine, and pawing all over her, but he said nothing about his
fears, resolving instead to get her the tickets.

Khrystine smiled, hanging up the phone. Although she sang the best
genre of music on the earth, there was something about hard rock that
was refreshing. And she'd seen G-Flat-Noise on TV. They were in the
words of one of her valley girl friends "totally kicking", thought
Khrystine.

After her makeup artist returned and washed and powdered her face,
she went down to Studio 11 to practice her choreography routine for
her music video shoot next week.

***
On Saturday, Khrystine woke up early, had a light breakfast of
Special K and Orange Juice, did one call in to a radio station in
Dallas to do an interview. The rest of the day she spent flipping
through magazines and watching TV in the company of her best friend
Monique before the charity dinner that evening.

"So why are you leaving the charity dinner early? There are gonna be
a lot of big time actors there," added Monique.

"Well, I know that. But I got Mike to get me tickets to the G-Flat-
Noise concert," said Khrystine with a grin.

"You mean that screaming boy that sings the Howling Woman song that
you love, oh lord," laughed Monique.

"What do you mean oh lord. Ignore the title. Howling Woman is a
good song. Don't you love his voice, it's husky, and it's tortured,"
said Khrystine, trying to hide her excitement, knowing she was about
to get teased.

"Come off of it Khrys. You know you think those white boys slinging
their hair around are sexy. You also know that howling wolfs, or
whoever they are, you know they sound like they are screaming for
their very lives," laughed Monique.

"Oh yeah, well you liked that song that I played for you by
them called Tortured Lives. Well anyway, I got a second ticket to
the show, but just for that, I'm not asking you to go," teased
Khrystine.

"OH I'm so very disappointed," teased Monica with mock anguish.

"I'm sure you are," said Khrystine rolling her eyes.

"Well girl, I'm gonna let you get ready to go to this charity
dinner. Kiss Denzel for me. Get his autograph If you are feeling
extra nice. And be careful going to that hard rock concert with a
bunch of other crazy young people. Yourself included," added Monica.

"I will, I will. Don't nag me. You are only four months older than
me," teased Khrystine.

"I'll nag when I feel like it. And anyway, I'm going to leave my
cell phone on so you can call me if you need me. One thing I'll say
is that you are such a character. I'd like to see you there, doing
some of that head banging, or whatever it is you do when you shake
your head all crazy in the car to that mess," teased Monica.

"It's the same way you shake your booty to JaQuon's rap beats,"
laughed Khrystine, as Monique bid her goodbye.

After Monique Left, Khrystine was free to dress for the charity
dinner. Since none of her assistants were present, she had
the "luxury" of dressing herself, and opted for a gold slip dress and
gold high heel sandals. She'd painted her toenails a gold color
earlier in the day along with Monica, so she opted for no panty hose,
and she brushed her naturally shoulder length hair so that it framed
her shoulders before heading out of the door and getting in her
convertible Audi.

It only then occurred to her that she would be a bit overdressed for
the G-Flat-Noise concert, but there would be no time for her to get
on the LA freeway and go all the way back to her condo before going
to the civic stadium. She'd just have to be a little more dressed up
than her fellow headbangers, smiled Khrystine to herself.

***
During the entire charity dinner, Khrystine had been dreaming about
the G-Flat-Noise Concert, even as old Hollywood legends pinched her
cheek and told her about what a wonderful first single she had, and
how great it was that she was concerned about helping the
environment. Although she liked meeting the legends, compared to
front row tickets at a sold out rock concert she was dying to go to,
it seemed a little bit boring. Though successful beyond her years,
she was still a typical twenty-one year old. She cut out of the
banquet fifteen minutes earlier than planned.

She did eighty-five on the freeway, racing to the civic stadium, and
then struggled to find parking in the underground area under the dome
like structure. After finding a space near a light, a necessity when
alone in Los Angeles at Night, she got on the elevator, taking it up
into the stadium.

At ground level, she went to find her seats in the front row. She
was jammed between two blond people, one male, and one female, who
appeared to be the same age she was, but Khrystine appeared older
because she was dressed to the nines. No one else in the stadium
looked like her, and it had nothing to do with color, just that most
of the kids were clad in jeans, or leather, and sneakers, or boots.
It didn't matter. She just came to see the show and she would
inconspicuously slip out of the front row before the show was over.

The blond girl sitting beside her pulled her bubble gum with her
fingers as she chewed it, twisting it around her pinky.

"You've got to be the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," said the
girl, who had a thick new jersey accent, though she was from LA.

It was a strange compliment, but Khrystine smiled anyway.

"Thank you," she said softly, humbly.

Although people thought she was beautiful before she was famous, she
never looked at herself as attractive, she just saw Khrystine when
she looked in the mirror.

"No, I'm serious, and it's not the dress," added the girl.

"thanks," said Khrystine absentmindedly.

She was ready for the show, and felt a tinge of disappointment as the
bland opening act graced the stage.

"You like G-Note," said the girl.

"Love them," said Khrystine.

"That's weird. Cool but weird," said the girl eyeing Khrystine
strangely.

Khrystine was used to getting this reaction when she went to rock
concerts, but she was sure it had more to do with her attire than
with the color of her skin in this instance. At any rate the girl
sitting beside her seemed nice enough, though she was rather chatty.
Khrystine was pretty sure the young woman had no clue about her
song, "Love Me Right Boy", and she was glad.

Although the young woman had been chatty to the point of annoying
during the opening act, Khrystine breathed a sigh of relief when she
was quiet as G-Note-Flat graced the stage.

***
Dylan Taylor looked into the audience, preparing himself as he
strummed the opening notes to their current hit "Howling Woman", in a
clean, straight forward, yet cleverly disguised lead in riff.

He always glanced at the faces in the front row to try to get a feel
for the audience he would be playing for, to try to put a face to a
stadium that appeared to be filled with little flecks of pepper from
his perspective on the stage. However, he could always see the faces
in the front row, and that helped him put a human face on the throng
of adoring followers that turned up to their gigs throughout the
world.

This evening, he saw a strange sight as he scanned the front row.
There appeared to be a very well dressed black woman sitting front
row, center stage. It wasn't the fact that she was black that made
her stand out as much as her fancy attire. He wondered if she was a
fan of the band, or just some type of press agent. It was too dark
for him to tell, but she was a snazzy dresser, if you liked that sort
of thing.

His scanning of the front row completed, Dylan shouted to the
audience.

"Does Los Angeles want to rock,"

And the crowd hollered.

"I said, does Los Angeles want to rock," repeated Dylan.

The crowed screamed again, and this time young black woman was in
with the revelers, putting her hands up in the air, in a rock on dude
type stance along with the other revelers.

It was at this point that Dylan got the answer to his question about
the well dressed black woman. She wasn't a PR agent. She came to
rock.

Dylan said "I see you momma," but didn't point directly at the young
black woman. For some reason he didn't want to draw undue attention
to her, because she was so well dressed.

At that point, he had to take his eyes away from her delightful
oddity, lest it distract him from the show.

In his black running shorts, slightly muddy combat boots, a bandanna
tied around his arm, his olive body already glistening with sweat
before the performance, he drew the primal teenage scream out of the
young women in the audience before he sang a note.

"You're my howlin woman momma yeah," mumbled Dylan softly, kneeling
laying his head straight back against the stage and beginning to
strum his guitar.

The crowd really went wild for him as he gyrated lightly, tilting the
guitar slightly in the air. At this point he stopped teasing the
audience, standing up, strumming his true opening riff.

As he sang, he sort of kicked, and swiveled his way along to the
rhythm, letting it guide him as it would, as he strummed freely. He
loved to pluck his guitar before a live crowd, because although he
stuck to the original enough so that the band and the fans would
recognize the song, live stage let him improvise according to his
mood, and the desires of his fans. He spun a slightly complicated
riff, yelling, pick it up ant, and ant began drumming as though he
was beating the rhythm to a military procession, only ten times as
fast, gliding seamlessly into their next hit, "Tortured Souls".

He played facing Long Armed Larry, letting Larry give it and take it
back with matching chord progressions until the bass guitarist
couldn't take it anymore, calling out playfully I fold, as the
audience clapped and cheered.

"How many people out here know what I'm talking about? I'm just a
hard workin' man at the end of the day. I'm a hard working man that
plays for my fans," he half screamed, half sang into the microphone.

"Where are all my hard working men at," asked Dylan to the audience.

He played two more songs, before the show had an intermission. Hard
working man though he was, his vocal chords could use a snatch of
Budweiser, and or Lemon Tea, or he didn't know how hard he could long
he could keep singing without wetting his throat.

"Time for Budweiser," said Dylan.

The fans screamed.

It seemed everything he said the fans screamed, even when he referred
to his love of beer. After he turned his round, yet muscular behind
toward the audience and swaggered away, the lights came up on the
stadium full blast.

***

Khrystine thought about getting a mixed drink during the shows
intermission, but opted against the idea. She didn't want to appear
lonesome, but she would appear lonesome at the concession stand by
herself ordering a drink. Deciding to sit and wait for the band to
return she occupied herself by dangling her high heeled shoe on her
big toe, and trying not to drop it. She was quite involved in this
self amusement, followed by examining her cuticles when she felt a
tap on her shoulder.

It came from a well dressed blonde man standing directly in front of
her. She felt a bit uncomfortable that he'd just reached out and
touched her bare shoulder, and she recoiled a little. His designer
suit, impeccable wing tips, and horn rimed glasses made her think
that he was some sort of business man, or reporter.

"Are you Khrystine Morgan," asked the man.

"In the flesh, shhh, I'm trying to be incognito this evening," she
added looking around to see if anyone had heard.

"Well it's going to be hard for you to be incognito in your trademark
mini dress and high heeled shoes. As soon as the lights came up, I
knew who you were," explained the business man.

"Well, I was at an event, and didn't have time to change. Wait. Who
are you, and why am I explaining myself to you," said Khrystine, her
tone getting a little aggressive, as she squared her shoulders.

It felt silly to be explaining her attire to some bozo in a suit that
she didn't know.

"You look stunning darling, really you don't have to explain yourself
to me. I'm Chad Stevens," he said extending his hand to her.

Khrystine shook it absentmindedly, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow
upward, because she had no clue who Chad Stevens was.

"I thought that would mean something to you Ms. Morgan, but you are
new to the business, and you aren't really in the rock music business
anyway. I am the PR Agent for Dylan Taylor, and G-Note-Flat. I'm
one of those behind the scenes type guys," added Chad.

"Oh I see. I never really knew how many behind the scenes type guys
there were until I cut my record. So maybe we'll bump into each
other again," added Khrystine, smiling graciously, letting all of her
big, beautiful pearly white teeth show, hoping that Chad would get
the message, and realize the conversation had petered out.

He was beginning to wear on her nerves like a cheap suit with his
phony camaraderie with her.

"Actually I will probably be bumping into you back stage. G-Note's
drummer Ant saw you when he was standing behind the wings over there,
and the band would like to meet you backstage after their show,"
added Chad.

"I don't know," said Khrystine, her voice wavering.

She felt hesitant about going backstage to meet a band, who had
legendary tales spun about their life backstage, and at their hotel
after parties. It could be dreadful if some nosy reporter saw her
going back to meet the band, and conjured up some fake, juicy story,
complete with pictures of her going behind the scenes to meet them.
What was more, even if no one saw her, she knew about the reputation
of that Dylan Taylor, before she was famous, and he probably thought
he would ask her backstage and see if she was nothing more than a
glorified groupie.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

"They really want to meet you, and this will be a great press story,
a little thing about meeting the band in the papers the next day,
could drop your name in circles that wouldn't ordinarily hear about
you. They might even be curious to pick up your LP to see who you
are. Everything's honest with me, seriously. The band loves to meet
anyone in the business who comes to see their show, not just gorgeous
r&b singers. Please do us the honor," begged Chad.

"Well umm…Okay," said Khrystine very quickly, answering before her
better judgment commanded her tongue.

There was something so compelling about a band as popular as G-Note-
Flat begging to meet her. She really had arrived. Dylan's Talent
had moved her before she was famous, and she respected him as being a
true musician, whose popularity rested on more than just his striking
features. And a tiny piece of her wanted to see how gorgeous Dylan
Taylor really was when he was standing three feet away from her. Was
he as gorgeous as he looked under the stage lights tonight, in the
magazines and on MTV? She would know after the second set.

***

Backstage Ant and Dylan were engrossed in conversation.

"Dude this is so cool that Khrystine came to our show," said Dylan.

"It is cool. She doesn't look like a chick that would dig rock
music, but I say everything is open and free. What I want to know
is,"

"If she's really hot," finished Dylan for Ant.

"Well, she looked like it from the front row. Who knew that well
dressed black chick that I called momma was Khrystine Morgan. I just
hope she doesn't know I was talking to her when I said momma,"
chuckled Dylan.

"I oughta tell her when she comes back here. She looks like the kind
of woman who would chew up a man, spit him out, and not think twice,"
said Ant.

"Aren't all Hollywood babe's like that," teased Dylan.

Although he tried to play it cool, his heart was fluttering a little
because he was excited to meet Khrystine Morgan in person, the pretty
chocolate hued girl whose husky alto was capable of doing strange
things to his body over an airwave. In person she must really be
something, thought Dylan.

He came out to play the second set five minutes earlier than he
planned, and Long Armed Larry teased, the sooner the show is over,
the sooner we see the babe.

***

The second half of the show had been more exciting than the first,
and she found herself standing and cheering right along side the bold
young blond woman from New Jersey, as though it was her first rock
concert, and like she had never known the glory of singing onstage
herself.

Right before the band performed their encore performance, she felt a
pair of slightly sweaty hands grip both of her wrists. The hands
felt husky and her first reaction was to flinch.

"Come Now," said the voice huskily.

Khrystine's first reaction was to scream.

"Shhhhhh…..Chad Stevens sent me out here to get you now before the
lights come up, so that you won't be in danger. You should be more
careful in the future. There was a lot of buzz around, even I heard
it, that Khrystine Morgan was somewhere in the audience. Those kids
could have mobbed you," added the voice.

"Who the heck are you," whispered Khrystine loudly.

"The bodyguard for the band, come on," he said gripping her wrists
and effortlessly leading her out of her seat, as the band closed
their set, and the curtains went down.

G-Note-Flat was heading backstage at the exact same time Khrystine
was.

Khrystine was seated in the lobby backstage, and asked by the balding
body guard if there was anything she would like

"Evian would be lovely," said Khrystine.

Five minutes later, he returned with her Evian, and Khrystine heard a
loud thumping sound begin behind her head. It sounded like somewhere
a party had started full swing in a matter of five minutes. At one
point it literally sounded like a human body, or a base guitar was
thrown up against the wall behind her head. It was hard for her to
tell just what it was that made contact with the wall, but it seemed
like a really wild party was brewing. She knew this was probably the
bands after party, and she quickly got up from her seat.

Khrystine was about to bail. For one thing, the band was waiting
entirely too long to let her go back and meet them. However, most
importantly, she was beginning to grow afraid to meet the band,
because every two minutes, the level of noise escalated triple fold,
and she could hear their loud music being played in the background as
a party soundtrack. It made her wonder if the rumors were true, and
if so, how many groupies were back there. She got up out of her
chair and walked swiftly toward the door, switching, her long,
oriental looking straight black hair blowing in the breeze behind her.

As soon as she got through the door frame, she collided softly into a
person, and it took her a little while to realize that she was
staring up into Dylan Taylor's neck. He was in his classic attire,
shirtless, wearing black strech pants, and combat boots, and she
closed her eyes because she was eye level with his incredibly muscled
olive colored chest.

"I'm so sorry," said Khrystine, closing her eyes as though she'd
walked in on Dylan bare.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm glad I was able to get out of there before you
bolted. That's where you were headed. Dylan Taylor, I'm the reason
you were summoned back here,' added Dylan, his lips curling up into a
slight grin.

The slight grin highlighted his really thin mustache and small but
well groomed goatee to such a degree that Khrystine looked at his
mouth, as though realizing he had the facial hair for the first time.

"No I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I almost left. There was a lot of
noise going on back there so I didn't know what to expect,' added
Khrystine softly.

"That was my fault, I really tried to get away from all the commotion
back there, so I could greet you. Chad was going to come out and get
you, and invite you into the next room over, but that room isn't
really conducive to conversation, and I just thought I might like to
talk to you a minute. That is, if you want to talk," he said
gesturing for her to have a seat on the couch as she sat across from
him.

"Sure I'd love to talk. That's what the PR agent said. He said that
you all liked to meet anyone in the business who came to see your
shows," added Khrystine with a soft smile, crossing one of her long
legs.

"And you bought that, he's getting phonier all the time," laughed
Dylan.

Khrystine didn't see what was funny and she raised one of her
perfectly arched eyebrows upward.

"So that was a joke to get me back here," said Khrystine, her tone
getting slightly aggressive.

"Woah, relax, take it easy. I was only kidding. I really wanted to
meet you after our drummer Ant saw you. I just wanted to thank you
for coming to check us out, and to let you know that I'm a big fan of
your new single," added Dylan.

"My single," said Khrystine truly flattered.

"You've heard my single. And you like it. Get out of here," added
Khrystine.

"Woman are you kidding you cannot turn on Hot LA 105 without hearing
Khrystine Morgan," he said affecting his voice so that it sounded
like a radio announcer.

"Well I'm hoping so. Maybe in the end I'll sell as many records as G-
Flat-Noise," laughed Khrystine.

"I'd say that you are heading in the right direction," said Dylan,
grinning.

Dylan had a nice smile. Though his lips were on the thin side, his
light brown goatee, and the true cherry redness of his lips made them
almost resemble some type of candy. She felt as though he could see
through her when she looked into his hazel eyes however and she
quickly averted her glance.

"I can't believe you listen to my music. You don't appear to be the
type of person who would listen to my song on the radio," said
Khrystine, talking more to her gold high-heeled shoe than Dylan.

Although she was normally full of self-confidence, and more than
composed, something about his rugged handsomeness unnerved her and
made her not want to look directly at him, for fear that he would see
that she found him very attractive. She definitely didn't want him
to think she was flirting with him. She and Dylan Taylor couldn't
come from two more different places in life.

"Well, we shouldn't judge books by their covers, because before
tonight, I would have never believed you would come to a G-Flat-Noise
concert," added Dylan.

"You have a point there, but I've loved rock music since I was small,
added Khrystine,"

"That's the same way that I love r&b," said Dylan.

"Who are some of your favorites," inquired Khrystine.

"Oh lets see, Sade, Anita Baker, Regina Belle, Khrystine Morgan,"
said Dylan enumerating on his fingers.

Khrystine laughed.

"You've got a good sense of humor. Putting me up there with Anita
and Regina. Lets see as far as rock musicians go, I like old stuff.
You didn't name any old stuff. I like Zeppelin, and Hendrix, Deep
Purple, and the Greatful Dead. As far as new stuff, G-Flat-Noise,
Metallica, Guns-N-Roses, Megadeath," added Khrystine.

"Woah, you like some heavy stuff. Its good stuff, but its heavier
than I pictured you listening to," said Dylan.

"Its not heavy. Hard Rock music lets me be free. I can get rid of
all that crazy pent up energy listening to the metal and the raw
power behind the vocals," added Khrystine.

"Well that's why I play Hard Rock. It's a release. Maybe you might
decide to play hard rock too. You've certainly listened to the
masters. Really, when I said earlier I couldn't picture you
listening to the bands that you dig is cuz…well, to be honest, you
look waaay to beautiful to listen to Metallica, as stereotypical as
that may sound," added Dylan with a chuckle.

Khrystine had been picking up on flirty little things that Dylan had
been doing since they were talking, the first was making deliberate
eye contact with her, even when she willed her eyes to look in the
other direction. The second thing was that he kept shifting his body
so that he was easing closer, and closer to her on the couch as
though she wouldn't notice. Thirdly, he'd draped his arm around the
side of the couch and tilted his body completely toward hers. She
wasn't watching him, but she could surely feel his eyes on her.
However, how that he'd gone right out and called her beautiful, she
began realizing that he was openly flirting with her. Although she
had really enjoyed their conversation up to the flirtatious remark,
she began to reevaluate his friendly smile, and the draping of his
body across the couch that kept getting closer, and closer to her in
light of his previous statement. She wondered what made him feel
bold enough to utter his last phrase. Did he think that she would
fall all over him simply because he told her that she was beautiful.
Or was he trying to make her blush so he could run back and tell all
his bandmates that he flirted with Khrystine Morgan, and she ate it
up with a spoon.

His flirtation made her very uncomfortable, and she looked at him,
cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrow.

"You know what Dylan, it was nice meeting you, but I have to go now.
I have another commitment," she said glancing at her new gold
designer watch.

"Hey wait, I was just getting to know you a little bit, let me get
your number," added Dylan, suddenly embarrassed after he uttered the
statement because he never asked for girls numbers. He usually left
them begging for his.

"I don't even know you Dylan Taylor. Yeah it was nice meeting you
and all that, and thank you for inviting me backstage, but if you
need to talk business, have your people call my people. My PR
agent's name is Mike. I'm sure Chad knows who he is. See you
around," said Khrystine, grabbing her purse and making a very hasty
retreat from the backstage area.

She opened the door to her silver convertible Audi, let the top down,
and sped off through the parking lot, scaring some older person who
was backing out by daring them to continue, driving almost
dangerously down the ramps and onto the busy LA streets, only slowing
down enough to see her way clear before she pulled off to the highway
full speed ahead. Boy was she mad at that arrogant Dylan Taylor. He
thought he could come onto her with some cheesy lines, and she would
just take the bate and do his bidding. She supposed that's what he
thought. It angered her that she wasn't able to see though his
phony, `I just want to get to know you better, I'm a big fan of your
music', act. The rumors about Dylan Taylor were really true. He was
out to explore every woman that he found attractive. Well she wasn't
just any woman, Khrystine Morgan wouldn't be `loose' for any man.
And even if he wasn't out to bed her, and he was sincere in his
compliment, a man like Dylan Taylor simply wanted his seven minutes
of difference. Not only was he white, but he was a rock musician.
What business would he really want with a black r&b star, other than
to see what it was like to have been with `Khrystine Morgan', or
someone other young female music upstart.

- posted by Mahogany @ 9:20 AM