Last Name

“Yo Rev! Stop harassing the poor girl and get back over here.”

The loud voice of Alex Varkatzas floated over to where I was seated between The Rev and Jeff. I few people’s eyes glared as he did so. One mother looked like she was going to through something as the baby boy in her lap awoke for his slumber.

The Rev gave me one last look.

“I will get an answer you know.”

I sighed in relief. I had no idea which band I would have chosen. Both bands had everything in a guy that I would love. Musical ability, tattoos and a personality. My mind drifted to Zacky for a moment. I slightly feared the day when we would met. And that day was probably going to be too soon for my liking.

“Hey Nora?” Jeff said from beside me. “Do you have those songs I asked for?”

I gave him a look. Of course I’d finished them, under great stress after a lot of procrastination I might add.

“Why does it matter? We can’t record them smart one.”

He glared jokingly for my sarcastic comment.

“I know that. But we can at least practice them. We gotta get something out there sweetie. Show people what your all about.”

I raised my eyebrow at him slightly. He was acting like my manager again. A job that he would have done better then my current one. Maybe I should just fire her...

“Can we fire Margaret?”

Jeff smirked at me. The bastard probably already did it from the look on his face. It was freaky how he did that. He was usually one step ahead of me. Which was good because I knew he was the one that would make me at least that much more successful in my career.

“Already done. I was a better manager then that woman.”

“True, true.”

The plane shook. I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the arms of the chair as hard as I could. My stomach was doing flips. And I didn’t like it one bit.

“Nora? Your looking a little green.”

I ignored Jeff and for once he seemed to take the hint that I didn’t want to talk to him. I heard him moving something around. And then little table on the back of the chair in front of me was lowered. Jeff set something down on it.

“Start writing. I know it gets your mind of things.”

I listened to him. Opening my eyes I saw the pen and paper he set down in front of me. Grabbing the writing device I stuck the end of it in my mouth like I always did when I was really trying to concentrate.

But what to write a song about?

This whole situation with Zacky was certainly something to write about. I was in the mood to write something fun. Something that happened a few years ago. So maybe I could make this flight slightly humorous. Even if it was in my own head. I quickly wrote down six words in the corner of the page.

I made out with a Rockstar.

When I was seventeen, my friend ditched me for some guy right before this small local concert me and her were supposed to go to. Not wanting to miss it I just decided to go alone. Then I realized that my so called ‘friend’ was the only one who could get me in, so I took things into my own hands. Waiting outside, that’s where I saw him. A guy in the band who’d name would be changed to fit this song.

All in all, I got a free CD and he got me backstage and I made out with a rockstar. My youth was slightly troubled in the Dirty South, growing up with the people I did. I gave my mom more grief then was ever intended. So a concert was pretty normal for a Tuesday night.

So I made out with a rockstar,
Last night at the slow bar.
I've given up on you highschool boys,
But up on stage, his blue eyes can,
See his willing fans.
He's like a god, he makes me weak.
And his pick of the night was me.
I made out with a rockstar.
Yeah, I made out with a rockstar.

I giggled a little at what I’d just written. It was just too perfect. Jeff looked over onto my paper and laughed.

“Love it kid.”

Of course he did. I was feeling a lot better. Song writing really did make a difference. I had to focus everything onto that. And not think about anything else.

Like Zack.

I could barely see the top of his head from where I was sitting. It was odd. Knowing that he’s about five feet in front of me and he had no idea that his wife was behind him. Writing more songs couldn’t distract me from thinking about how I was going to tell him. I mean what if he didn’t recognize me?

Maybe I should tell someone...