Indie Ink: The Groupie

“Excuse me?”

Rachel broke eye contact with Nathan and glanced over. A young girl, wearing a skin tight mini dress that left little to the imagination, stood quivering by their table. Rachel wondered how she’d even gotten in to the bar. Beneath the layers of makeup she looked no more than eighteen. At that thought, Rachel almost started laughing. Technically she wasn’t old enough to be in this place. She sent a mental “thank you” to the Mirror for her decision to send Rachel forward in time during these leaps.

The girl looked like she was going to pee her pants with excitement. Nathan closed his eyes briefly before addressing her. “Hey, what can we do for you?”

“Are you…oh my God, I can’t believe I’m doing this…are you Nate Anders?” She took a little step back and began fiddling with the hem of her skirt. Nathan gave Rachel an apologetic look and nodded.

“Yeah, but could you keep it down? I’m trying to lay…” His request was drowned out by the girl’s sudden squeal of excitement.

“OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!” She turned on her stilettos, almost tumbling to the ground and shrieked halfway across the crowded bar. “It IS! It’s Nate Anders! It’s the lead singer of Touchstone!”

Rachel followed the direction the girl shouted in and saw a group of girls on the other side of the dance floor clustered around a small round table. At their friend’s announcement they began jumping up and down, gripping each other by the arms, and screaming.

“Shit.” Nathan said under his breath, the word almost lost in the cacophony of pounding rock music and the groupie’s screams. Rachel sat back, trying to prepare herself for the onslaught of rabid fans that were an everyday part of Nathan’s life. She met his gaze and he shrugged.

“Sorry Rach. I’ve been spotted.” He reached over and grabbed one of her hands in a quick squeeze before shifting into what Rachel considered his “rock star” persona. He flashed the girls approaching en masse a blinding smile and called over to the bartender, “A round of Body Slams for everyone!”

With rapid precision a line of foamy blood red shots, the establishment’s signature creation, appeared on the bar. A waitress distributed them to the crowd gathered around Nathan’s booth.

Nathan held his up in a toast. “To Touchstone rising to number one!”

The group of girls screamed in agreement and tossed back their shots. Rachel eyed hers for a moment before following suit. She felt her chest convulse and her heart begin to pound as the alcohol slid down into her stomach. The shot was living up to its moniker.

She watched as Nathan held court, scribbling autographs on napkins or on the body parts of his exuberant fans, and wondered how she could compete with fame and fortune? How many rock stars ended up in committed, loving relationships? She began shredding a napkin, sinking further back into the corner of the booth.

Nathan glanced back at her and furrowed his brow. He raised his hands and yelled out over the music, “Sorry girls. I have to get going. Thanks for the support; I’ll see you at our next show!”

He extended a hand out to Rachel and gestured her up. She felt her heart begin to pound at his touch and slid out of the booth, nestling in close to his body. Jealousy swept over the group in a wave as the groupies watched them leave the bar.

“You okay?” he whispered in her ear. She nodded. For now, this was enough.

~*~*~

For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Chaos Mandy challenged me with “Body Slams for Everyone” and I challenged Kat with “bonsai, elementary, coiling eels”.

Continuing on with Rachel’s saga. This follows after Leftover