Vanni: A Prequel (Groupie Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page B

master. He gave me a job when no one else would. He deserves my loyalty. Starting off in some mail room where nobody knows my name, where I become a faceless cog in the machine, has never interested me. I love to interact with people, and Cynzia’s was one of the places I could sing while I worked, often charming the girls and the ladies who would tip me very well for the privilege of hearing me croon to them as I presented the daily specials. Those tips make working at Cynzia’s more profitable than some entry level position in the city.
    And fuck the hair net… some hoity toity big corporation would probably force me to cut my hair entirely. If I’m going to be on stage within a year, singing and fronting a band of my own, I want to be a wild carefree rocker, not some button-downed, clean cut milquetoast corporate drone.
    I glance over Tony, who had cut his own ponytail off by the time he trotted off to college. We used to look like brothers. Now we’re like some before and after photos, with me stuck in perpetual, rebellious youth. I guess that’s who I am, who I’ve always been. As a rock star, I can stay that way. I can be me and be totally and completely accepted and loved for it.
    Sounds like heaven to me.
    Lori, who sits practically in my lap, runs her hand over my arm. “You might to reconsider, babe,” she tells me. “It’s always good to have a five-year plan.”
    “I do have a five-year plan,” I say. Down below where we sit, the band everyone is waiting to see takes the stage and the place erupts in wild, wonderful chaos as the crowd goes crazy. I point at the lead singer, who looks like some random punk on the subway. He’s got spiked black hair, smudged black liner around his dark eyes, a chain slung across his shoulder, holding his guitar in place while his fingers, tipped with black nail polish, grip the neck. He wears jeans, T-shirt and biker boots, but the minute he opens his mouth, he has the crowd captivated. I have to shout for Lori to hear me. “That’s me in five years, but in bigger, better venues. That’s the life I want, babe. And I’m ready to go for broke.”
    She scowls immediately as she scoots of my lap. “Emphasis: broke.”
    My mouth drops open as I stare at her. I can’t believe she is making a deal about this. She knew what I wanted to do with my life the minute we started going out. Here I am ready to make a commitment and she’s trying to bring me down to earth?
    I want to soar, with her, through the stars.
    And I know I can do it. The only thing left to do is prove it to her.
    “I’m going to go get a drink,” I tell her as I scoot out from the booth. She doesn’t fight me. Inside I’m glad.
    I make my way downstairs, past the bar and towards the stage. I need to get up close to watch this guy work the crowd. He’s good, I have to admit. He knows how to get the crowd involved. He sings a couple of cover tunes that everyone knows the words to, so the crowd is delirious to be a part of the show. When they get to their original material, the crowd is already on their side. The material is good, too. Solid rock music, with a heavy beat I can feel in the center of my chest.
    It’s like sex, with its raw, primal rhythm. God, it gets me so pumped. I figure that Tony or Lori must not feel it the same way I do, way down deep in their bones. If they did, they’d understand why my passion to make music happen drives me, even when it makes no logical or rational sense. I want to be a part of something beautiful and magical and epic. Staying in the crowd, lost in the numbers, physically pains me.
    Giving up is not an option. Plan B is a prison sentence.
    I thrust my fist into the air along with the rest of the crowd. This is the essence of rock and roll. It’s the Don’t Give a Fuck aspect that pumps the blood through my veins. It’s heaven and hell, pleasure and pain, sex and heartache, all rolled into one. It’s fucking fantastic and I’m a part of it whenever the