THE SCOTTISH FETISH : Chapter 8

“So, what’d ya wanna know? ” he asked, inviting her in. “I…uh…actually, yer fans would like to know about yer personal life.” she replied. “My fans, eh? Ya really think ya can coax out my life story by lying? ” he scoffed. “Fine! I’d like to know yer life story, kay?! About yer life before ya hit it big. About the sacrifices ya had to make. Why d’you insist on keeping it such a secret, anyway? Even if it’s a dark past….I mean, our readers love that stuff an’ yer fans are gonna lap this up, ya know? ” she prodded. “Stay the bloody Hell outta my personal life! ” he snapped, taking her aback. An awkward silence followed. “I…I’m sorry. It’s just, my uncle’s under a great deal o’ stress. The magazine isn’t doin well, he’s facin competition from all those big tabloids with their juicy stories an’ stuff, ya know? It’s my job to pry….But, I didn’t mean to upset ya.” she apologized. “It’s ok. I’m just not comfortable with talkin about my past, about the sacrifices I had to make, about the people whose hearts I broke cuz o’ these sacrifices….” he opened up, stopping only on realizing he’d said too much. “Just ask me anything else, kay? ” he pleaded, choking back tears. “I’m afraid yer interview’s gonna have to wait. He’s busy all day, autograph signings an’ whatnot. ” Mick interrupted, showing her the door. “But, I…” she protested, in vain, as the overprotective manager slammed the door in her face. She walked back to her workplace dejectedly. “What was that, eh, crow? Ya know I’m free all day. The autograph signings are in the evening. I think yer gettin too ol for this job, Mick! ” he corrected, sounding like a smart aleck and surprised by his manager’s behavior towards the young journalist. “Sorry, I had to turn er away. But, we can’t have er around, askin ya all these personal questions, opening up ol wounds….not during The Highlands Tour anyway. This is yer comeback tour an’ we can’t have anythin or anyone ruin that. I remember the last time some nosy reporter tried to force ya to open up an’ ya lost it during the American Tour. Ya broke his nose an’ were still so rattled that ya had a nervous breakdown onstage. Can’t have a repeat o’ that. I know ya still feel bad about leaving er behind, breaking off yer engagement just to pursue stardom, but you’ve gotta move on, mate. Like she did. That was 10 years ago.” a concerned Mick suggested . ” Just leave me alone, crow….or you’ll pay with yer nose” the scowling rock star muttered through clenched teeth, taking a swig of his coffee, before threateningly readying his fist to swing at Mick, but fortunately changing his mind and unclenching it later. “An’ for yer information, I don’t feel bad about leaving er behind. I feel horrible! ” he confessed in a guilty tone, still through clenched teeth, before waving Mick away, so he could be by himself and drown his sorrows in booze. Mick knew about his coping technique, but he was helpless against it and so he thought it best to leave him to it. Drinking himself to sleep and feeling sorry for himself was the only coping technique that the troubled rock star felt comfortable with. Mick returned later that evening to find the drunk rock star still fast asleep, face down and drooling over the bedspread. He tsk-tsked as he picked up the photos of him and Sylvia during happier times which were strewn all over the floor of his bedroom and placed them back into the photo album, before placing it back in its hiding place behind the heap of Eagles albums on the record shelf. With an exasperated sigh, he quickly collected the empty liquor bottles and dropped them into the bin under the kitchen sink, before proceeding to the blender to concoct a hangover cure for the hungover rock star.  Once he was done, he decided to shake him awake, so they wouldn’t be late for the autograph signings that night.

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