Be My Bad Boy

“I've got the money for the video," I told her. "But I don't think the band is going to agree."
I explained to her about the deal and how I had to get them booked at the Metropolis. How I'd tried and how I'd miserably failed.

"Well, I wouldn't think 5,000 people would be that hard. I can start a mailing list on the website and see how many numbers I get.
"Yeah, we could just invite Andy's ex-girlfriends."

I grinned but I wasn't sure if she could get 5,000 people. It seemed impossible and she hadn't heard how rude that guy was on the phone. Once, I'd have just got my dad to call back and make him an offer he couldn't refuse but those days were gone. Things were really tough for the ordinary people.
"We just need a plan."
"I don't know about plans… I'm not even cut out for this job."
Then I broke down and told her all about what happened the day before. All the gory details.
"Oh, you bitch, I hate you," she said with a grin, so I knew she didn't mean it.
"Why? I made a complete idiot of myself."

"Yeah, but you're hot and classy. That's a winning combination, right. I have no chance at all with Andy with you around."
"I’m not so hot. Look at my hair. It’s in urgent need of a cut. My eyelashes need redoing. And look at this manicure!"

"You are going to steal his heart and I won't even get my two weeks."
"I don't want his heart. You can keep it. What about Jinxx or Jake? They're sweet guys." I did feel a bit of a tingle though. Not that I wanted a chance with Andy but I'd like to think that if I wanted to, I could. I could not work out that kiss. Maybe I'd just dreamt it. But sometimes it was like I could still feel the ghost of his lips on my forehead.

She picked at her nails. "He's nice but not my type." Then she looked at me carefully. "Do you like one of them? You do, don't you? Oh, you'd make such a cute couple wit either of the. And that would leave Andy for me."

"I don't want Andy and I don't want anyone else. I have a boyfriend. Tom. He's away at school."
And I hadn't even remembered to call him. Yikes. Who forgets their own boyfriend? But then, what could I say if I did call? That I'd had to sell my clothes to make rent money and I'd had to take on managing a rock band only to get drunk and stoned and end up naked and sleeping at their apartment. My life hadn't been that much to brag about lately. If Tom knew how broke I was, he'd drop me like a rock. I was the trophy girlfriend with the perfect life and he was the trophy boyfriend. Now I was a trophy with battered sides.

"Do you have a photo?"
I reached into my bag then remembered it was in my stolen wallet. Shit, soon I wouldn't even remember what Tom looked like. I'd get back to school and not even know my own boyfriend. He’d blend into every other guy in our group with their plans for shining careers, their European holidays in summer and ski trips in winter, their latest cars and their latest phones.
Not that I was all that fond of being poor or anything, but that life started to look a little bit boring. I couldn't remember any time in that life I felt as exhilarated as I did bartering that woman up to an extra $500 for a pile of my old clothes.
"So what are you up to tonight? If you want, you can come over to my place. We'll get a bottle of wine and maybe listen to those BVB demos and think up a plan for getting the gig. Look, the dude has to book bands, right? Otherwise there'd be no one playing there. So, all we have to do is work out how everyone else does it then do it even better. Plus, I’ll give you a manicure."
"Sounds good to me." I don't know why but the way Angie said this and the way she grinned made me think it was a real possibility. A glimmer of hope returned to my heart.

Notes