Unbeknownst to Jay, his manager had sent a flock of teenage girls to find him. They were armed with a picture the manager had snapped on his cell phone earlier that day, while Jay was sitting outside a trailer strumming his guitar and feeling sorry for himself because his famous country crooner father could care less about him.
These girls would never have known Jay without his cowboy hat, boots, plaid shirt, and jeans. Like Lucy he was a chameleon, and enjoyed wearing enigmatic clothing unmatched in his current location.
He didn't even like country music.
It was a ploy, an effort to get his father to notice him, to pay attention to him, to love him, to respect him.
And yet, the man could care less.
Jay didn't sing for these fans, he sang for his father.
His father would arrive later, unbeknownst to Jay.
His fans had already arrived.
Beneath his protective anger stoked in an instant by this apparent stalker's portrait of Lucy, Jay began to feel chills along the back of his neck.
He turned his head to scan the room.
Someone approached. A deep, dark, mustached man with a gun underneath his denim jacket gripped Lucy's elbow with steel fingers, and she winced.
With a whoosh of air conditioning, Sneller sensed danger and opened a door to leave, but got caught up in a screaming barrage of scantily clad teenage Daisy Dukers rushing toward Jay with Sharpies and sharp fingernails.
Jay and Lucy's mouths were open.
Their eyes cried out for help.
No comments:
Post a Comment