Thursday, July 31, 2014

Superstar-Chapter 19

Hey everyone! Sorry, I'm late with the new chapter...tired from work and stuff...Anyway, here it is...comment here on the blog or follow me on Twitter or Like me on Facebook...You have options...

Chapter 19: I’m Just Wanting You

Terry introduced his song “Red Haze” to the band. The reactions were interesting to say the least.
Eric: “What the hell was wrong with you?”
Lisa: “Damn, you sound angry.”
Wanda: “Does the word ‘Angerball’ mean anything to you?”
Rob: “Didn’t get none, huh?”
Larry: Daaaayuuum.”
Dominique listened without comment. She looked at Terry, his eyes gleaming with mischief and a grin on his face.  She knew why his song sounded so angry: it was an expression of the frustration he felt wanting her, but not being able to have her. Her knee-jerk reaction was it served him right, but a piece of her wished that she could forgive him and embrace him again. Everyday, this desire grew stronger, especially since Rob, who started out being so nice, was beginning to act like an ass towards her and the sitch was doing the Electric Slide on her last nerve.
“That’s just the reaction I was looking for.” Terry stated. “Hopefully, when we play this on Friday, it’ll sound just as angry then.”
Terry started teaching everyone their individual parts. In roughly an hour, they had the song down. Dom was awestruck by Terry’s skill, energy and enthusiasm. She’d seen him do it before, but it amazed her every time.
As Avant Groove played an energetic, full band version of ‘Red Haze’, with Terry slaughtering his guitar, Dom watched him. A purely physical drive to have him in her arms welled up inside and made her shiver. As if he could sense that shiver under his skin, Terry looked at Dom suddenly. She cast her eyes downward. She knew if she looked into those wonderful gray eyes, all pretense of being upset with Terry would disappear and she’d be lost.
The band finished with the song and Eric called for a break. Lisa made a beeline for Dom and asked her if she could talk to her for a moment.
“Sure.” They walked over to a wall where a friend of the band painted a mural.
“What’s up?” Dom asked, though she could guess what Lisa wanted.
“I just wanted to let you know that Terry is single. He’s not with Wanda at all.”
Dom shrugged. “Don’t matter to me. If that’s the case, why couldn’t he tell me himself?”
“Because, you’d bite his head off,” Lisa answered. “I know it matters to you, Dom. I’d have to be blind not to see that you want him.”
“Bitch, please.” Lisa said as she folded her arms under her breasts. “I saw the way you were lookin’ at him while we were playin’. I’ve seen dogs look at a bowl of Alpo like that.”
“Whatever.” Dom repeated with very little conviction.
“Listen to you. You know I’m right,” Lisa grinned. “If you like him, you should be with him. The both of y’all know you want each other. He ain’t studying Wanda, honey, he wants you.”
Lisa walked away before Dom could say a word. Dom looked at Terry again. He was noodling around on his guitar, but she was sure he knew she was looking at him. She cast a glance at Wanda who was looking at Terry with longing and sadness herself. If she was with him, that wouldn’t be the case, Dom surmised.
Right then, Rob came up to her and they started a quick conversation. Dom tried to concentrate on Rob, but her mind was with Terry and she barely was able to keep up with the subject of their next date. Something she wasn’t looking forward to at all.

(c)2014 Courtney & W.L. Sherrod 

Monday, July 21, 2014

Superstar-Chapter 18

Howdy, Everyone! Thanks again for tuning in and reading my story here. Also thanks to Nancy Peterson for sharing chapter 17 on Google Plus! If you get the chance, check out my Author Page, W.L. Sherrod, on Facebook and like it or follow me on Twitter. (@wlsherrod is my handle there)
Anyway, on to the story...

Chapter 18: Don’t You Want Me

There was a knock at the door.
Terry wasn’t expecting anyone. Eric and Lisa were both at work and nobody really visited him outside of those two. He was mildly annoyed with whoever it was. He’d just started putting a guitar line on tape, something that would develop into a good song with a little work. He turned off the recorder and opened the door. The annoyance factor went through the roof when he saw Wanda standing there.
“What the hell do you want?”
“I’d like to come in and talk, if I could.”
With a deep, asthmatic sigh, Terry moved aside and let her in. She quickly moved to the couch and sat down. He was about to sit in his easy chair, when Wanda patted the seat next to her and asked him to join her. Reluctantly, Terry did.
“What did you wanna talk about?”
Wanda looked very uncomfortable with the question. Obviously, there was something on her mind and she was having trouble finding the right way to phrase her thoughts. Terry, however, wasn’t in the mood to be patient.
“Look, you caught me in the middle of practice. If you have a point, I’d like to hear it sometime this century.”
She took a deep breath and said, “I dreamed about you last night.”
“Excuse me?”
“I dreamed about you last night,” She repeated.
Terry grinned. “I bet there was an assortment of bladed and spiked weapons and torture involved.”
An embarrassed smile came to her face. “Naw, nothin’ like that,” she said softly.
“Then what?”
Wanda gazed deep and unblinking into Terry’s eyes. The warmth and affection there cut through all the annoyance and anger and touched his heart.
“I dreamed we were under a tree in a park and it was raining.” Wanda began. “You had on a white linen shirt. The rain made your face and hair glisten and the shirt mold itself to the shape of your body.  I kissed you and wrapped my arms around you, pushed you against the tree and proceeded to peel every piece of wet clothing off you.”
Wanda placed a hand on Terry’s knee, gently massaging it. Terry looked at her hand and the rest of her. She had on a black turtleneck that revealed the generous curves of her breasts and a mid-thigh length denim skirt that only partially covered the elegant lines of her legs.
“I had on a yellow sundress—“, Wanda continued, “—and you could see my nipples through the fabric. You kissed them through the dress, then you ripped off my clothes and we made love against the tree, on the ground, me riding you, you riding me. God, it was so hot.”
Terry felt like a deer caught in a semi’s approaching headlights. He always tuned Wanda out, always seeing her, but never really seeing her. Her beauty and femininity always escaped him.
There was no mistaking or missing it now.
“I got so excited from the dream, I had a really niiiice orgasm.” Wanda purred. Her hand travelled from Terry’s knee up his thigh and brushed his hardening manhood. Terry jumped up spastically, as if he were being shocked and retreated to the far side of the room. Wanda stood up and glided over to where he stood.
“Terry, you’re not scared of me are you?”
“Uh…of…uh…of course not,” He stammered.
“Then, why did you run away?” She asked as she backed Terry into the wall and placed her hands on either side of him.
Some of the fear left Terry’s eyes and he said, “Because I’m wondering if you’re trying to fuck your way to the lead singer spot.”
Wanda looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “Terry, in case you missed it, I was hitting on you big time.”
“I caught that,” Terry said, feeling much more relieved to be back on safer emotional ground where Wanda was concerned.
“Then why the hell would you say somethin’ like that?” she demanded. “I know I can be a bitch sometimes, but I really do like you Terry. It’s not like you and Dom are together right now, so I wanted to take my shot, let you know how I felt.”
“I appreciate that, but I don’t feel the same way towards you, Wanda.”
Disappointment seeped onto her face. Terry felt a little bad for crushing her heart like that, but he had to be as honest with her as she was finally being with him.
“Why?” Wanda asked and plopped down onto the couch. “Why don’t you?”
Terry folded his arms across his chest and thought about the question. “She touched me deep inside without even saying a word,” he said. “When our eyes met, it was like our souls touched.” Terry locked gazes with Wanda, warmth and resolved shining in his eyes. “She’s the part of me I didn’t even know I was missing.”
Wanda looked like she’d swallowed a jellyfish. “Well, I can’t compete with that,” she muttered to herself. She sighed and stood up. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“You do realize Dom doesn’t want anything to do with you right now.”
“Yeah. That’s gonna change, though.”

“Well, good luck with that.” Wanda said as she walked out of the door.  He didn’t walk her out, so he missed the tears in her eyes. Not that they would’ve mattered to him anyway. His mind was focused on the muse that visited him before Wanda came and the belief that he and Dom would be together again.

(c)2014 Courtney and W.L. Sherrod

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Superstar-Chapter 17

Hello all!
I'm sorry about not posting on Monday...Was VERY tired. I'm correcting that now and I've started an author page on Facebook, so go there and like my page! Thanks!

Chapter 17: Get at Me, Dog

The tension in the room was almost a physical presence. Terry felt like he could literally wade through it, as if it were slowly replacing the oxygen in the room. He sat down on an easy chair and rested his gaze on Dominique and Booty-Bass as they were talking during a break from rehearsal.
All morning, Terry and Dom were very cordial towards one another, careful to speak only when necessary and keeping things rather cool. Beneath the icy exterior, there were flashes of the chemistry between them, but pride and ego on both sides kept them from allowing it to catch fire and melt their resistance. Terry kept his distance and his peace, but that didn’t stop him from looking at Dom and Rob with judgment in his eyes.
Terry saw Rob look up at him. He could’ve looked away and avoided a conflict, but Terry was tired of being nice, so he looked right back at Rob, nakedly throwing down the gauntlet. Booty-Bass didn’t disappoint Terry.
“What da fuck is yo damage, nigga?” Rob shouted as he stomped over to Terry.
“Excuse me?” Terry calmly replied.
“Why you eyeballin’ me and Dominique? You already had yo chance, Romeo, so step off and let a real man do his duty.”
“When I see a real man, I will.”
Rob hit Terry on the side of the head. Terry sprang up, tackled Booty-Bass to the ground and began wailing on him. Eric and Larry hustled over and pulled the two of them apart. Even though Rob had about thirty or forty pounds and five inches on Terry in height, his lips were swollen and one of his eyes was beginning to puff up. Terry, for his part, only suffered a torn shirt. Terry strained against Eric to get to Rob, something not human, almost bestial was in his eyes, making them gleam dangerously.
Before things could spiral further out of control, Eric dragged Terry outside. He let Terry go and blocked the door as Terry tried to get past him.
“Move outta the way, Groove.” Terry spat.
If I gotta beat you down to get past you, I will.”
“You’re welcome to try.” Eric said and folded his arms across his chest.
“I’m serious, Groove.”
“So am I.”
For a long moment, the two of them silently matched wills. Terry knew that Groove had seen his angry side before and wasn’t fazed by it in the least. Groove may’ve been calm and easygoing, but Terry knew the diamond–hard resolve behind Eric’s placid demeanor. He knew Eric wouldn’t move, no matter how much he raged.
Finally, the humanity came back to Terry’s eyes and, after a few deep breaths, he calmed down.
“Are you ready to come back inside and act like a normal human being?” Eric asked.
Terry sighed loudly and said, “Yeah.”
He started towards the door, when Eric stopped him with a hand on his chest and a serious look.
“No more of this bullshit, Terry. The fighting about Dom is over as of right now.”
“Tell Rob. He hit me first.”
“Seeing how Rob has the fucked up face, its better I tell you.”
“Fine, it’s squashed.”
“Thank you.” Eric said as he opened the door and they walked inside. Dom was fussing over Rob. Eric sent Terry over to the risers where Larry, Wanda and Lisa were playing the bare bones of a House song, as he asked Rob to come with him. A moment or two later, Eric and Rob made their way to where Terry was standing. He glanced at Lisa and nodded for her to come down and join them.
“Earthquake, Wanda!” Terry bellowed. “Can you give us a moment please?” They did and Eric, Lisa, Terry and Rob were left by themselves.
“What happened?” Eric asked.
“Terry was talkin’ shit so I clocked his ass.”
“Notice he left out that he stepped to me first.”
“The nigga was all up in me and Dom’s Kool-aid.”
“But, did he do anything?” Lisa interjected.
“But, nothin’.” Eric snapped. “The both a ya’ll are losing one night’s performance pay.”
“I didn’t do nothin’!” Terry thundered.
“Man, that shit ain’t fair!” Rob added.
“I don’t give a fuck.” Eric said flatly. “The bullshit fightin’ stops now. When we’re here, we’re here to work. I don’t give two bumfucks ‘bout what happens outside the Warehouse, but you leave that shit outside. Don’t bring it up in here! Is that understood?”
Terry and Rob mumbled that it was.
“Good. Let’s get back to work.” Eric turned his back on them and called everybody back to their instruments. Everyone took their places and continued with rehearsal.

Dominique, for her part felt bad about everything that happened. She knew that Terry and Rob couldn’t stand each other before she’d come along, but she felt guilty for being a cause of more friction between them. Avant Groove started working on a version of “Mind Blowin’ Decisions” by Heatwave. How ironic, Dom thought to herself. Somewhere along the way, her act of liking Rob ceased to be an act, but she still carried a torch for Terry. Dom didn’t know what she was going to do, but a decision would have to be made and made soon.

(c)2014 Courtney and W.L. Sherrod

Monday, July 7, 2014

Superstar-Chapter 16

Here's a new chapter of Superstar. Thanks for everyone who has read this and I hope you're enjoying it. Howard High is on a break until I finish up enough strips to start posting again. Anyhew, thanks again and here...we...go!

Chapter 16: The Red

The melodic strains of “Mt. Airy Road” by George Benson and Earl Klugh floated through the air and surrounded Terry in a cocoon of sound. Normally, the song would relax him and put him at ease.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t working.
Terry was way too agitated to relax and his mind wasn’t in his apartment with George and Earl, it was wherever Dom was; probably in Rob’s bed.
He was convinced that Rob was talking some smooth, playa-mack shit that flowed into Dom’s ears with the desired result of Dom droppin’ her drawers. The more he thought about it, the angrier Terry got. He jumped up and started to pace back and forth. Visions of Dom and Rob doing the horizontal lambada pissed Terry off to the highest point of pissitivity. A red haze clouded his vision. Terry realized that he loved Dom and he wanted her, angrily wanted her, for his own. 
He turned off the music. It wasn’t helping him anyway. He couldn’t hear it over the imagined screams of passion ringing in his head. Terry flopped into a chair, breathing hard and fast. His gaze settled on his electric guitar sitting in the corner. Terry stalked over to it, turned it and the four track recorder on and set-up a microphone. Even out of his mind with jealous anger, old habits held firm.
Terry stomped on the distorter effect on his pedal board and let fly all the confused, frustrated mishmash of emotions in his heart. His hands flew over the fretboard of his guitar as all of it poured out through his hands. He lost track of how long he played, but when the last note finally died in the air, Terry felt purged, clean, the weight of the last few weeks miraculously removed from his shoulders.
The situation with Dom had gotten to him so much, Terry hadn’t been able to write a song. That’s a serious thing with him because music sprang from Terry like a fountain. A song idea always flitted through his mind, guitar lines, bass chords and piano licks was something he heard in everyday noises. To say that he had writer’s block was akin to a death sentence to Terry. He was able to play other people’s compositions, but couldn’t come up with anything of his own. Until now.
Terry rewound the tape and listened to what he’d just given birth to. The sound was raw, chaotic and aggressively hostile. He was a little shaken that something like that could come from inside him. Ideas on how to harness that sound and shape it into a song came to Terry’s mind.
He ran to get his keyboard, bass guitar and drum machine. The muse came to visit and Terry started building a song around that powerful guitar line. All thoughts of Dom or Rob disappeared as a wave of creativity swept him away.
When he finally finished, Terry rewound the tape and listened to the song he’d just composed. An acres-wide smile came to Terry’s face.

“Helluva way to get past a writer’s block,” He chuckled.

(c)2014 W.L.Sherrod & Courtney Sherrod

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Superstar-Chapter 15

Chapter 15: I Wish

Dom had to admit that she ended up having some fun on her date with Booty-Bass. If she looked past the fact that Rob was like a damn octopus. He constantly touched Dom or held her hand which quickly made her very uncomfortable. When she relayed this to Booty-Bass, he just laughed it off and continued.
They arrived at Joe’s where Dom quickly excused herself and fled to the bathroom. As she looked in the mirror, Dom saw nothing but flaws: a big forehead, soup cooler lips, a nose that didn’t look right for her face and she was too short. For a moment, she wondered what anyone saw in her. Then her mind shifted to thoughts of the one person she was trying to annoy with this date.
Why am I thinking about him--, she thought,--He’s nothin’ but a little hoe tryin’ to get his freak on in front of his woman. Even as she thought it, Dom didn’t really believe it.
“’ I already told you Wanda ain’t my woman. You don’t wanna listen? Fine. I don’t wanna talk anymore—‘”
He wouldn’t be so angry unless he was fuckin’ around on Wanda--, Dom thought, --or, if he was telling the truth.
Dominique closed her eyes and saw Terry in her mind’s eye: his sparkling gray eyes, his curly black hair and his caramel-colored, wiry muscled body that drove her to distraction every time she saw him. She sighed, because she knew that he didn’t want anything else to do with her. That thought made her sadder than she expected. She shook her head, touched up her makeup and headed back to her table and her own personal Squidilly Didilly.

Terry had a firm grip on his glass of Coke. It was so firm in fact that the glass was in danger of breaking. Terry stared at the plateau before him: Rob had an arm draped snugly around Dom’s shoulders, which Dom seemed to enjoy, as they listened to the sounds of a five piece jazz band. That was why Terry was strangling his glass. Secretly, he wished it was Rob’s neck.
For the millionth time, Terry asked himself why he was putting himself through this. Dom didn’t care about him one way or the other and she didn’t want to see him outside of rehearsals so why was he torturing himself like this?
Because he still cared. Dom may’ve been able to let go and move on, but he couldn’t. Dom was his, even if she didn’t agree with or would if the question ever came up, and Terry wasn’t about to give up just yet.
Terry pulled his eyes away from the happy couple and looked at the rest of the restaurant. He’d never been in Joe’s Be-bop Cafe’. The stage the band was on dominated the front of the room. There were windows behind it and seats outside facing Lake Michigan. Since it was still early Spring and Winter’s cold edge still lingered, there was no one sitting outside. The tables surrounding the stage were full of people as was the bar where Terry sat near the entrance to the restaurant. Pictures of Jazz legends adorned the wall along with restaurant merchandise and memorabilia from Jazz and Blues artists. The cavernous space was somehow spacious and intimate at the same time. In different circumstances, Terry would’ve liked the place.
The emcee came to the stage and announced the beginning of the open mike session. A few brave souls, most of them more than a little drunk, got up and did a good job of murdering good music. There were some, however, who did a fairly good job. Terry was waiting for Dom to grace the crowd with her voice. His eyes turned towards her and he saw her and Rob laughing and obviously making comments about the various singers ability or lack of it. Rob pointed towards the stage, looking like he was challenging Dom to go up there. She nodded her head, accepting the challenge. When the emcee asked for another singer, she immediately got up and walked onto the stage. Dom was about to tell the band what she wanted to sing when she locked gazes with Terry.
A thrill of fear raced through him and his face grew warm. He was caught, they both knew it. ‘You’ve got some damn nerve followin’ me around’ Dom’s face seemed to say. The basilisk stare Dom inflicted on him at the Golden Spoon was bad, but Terry was sure that the burning look of silent, raging anger Dom directed his way was much worse.
Dom turned to speak to the saxophone player and Terry breathed a sigh of relief. It was only a few moments, but it felt like Dom had stared at him for hours.
Dominique stepped to the microphone and, at the sax player’s cue, the band started to play ‘T’ain’t Nobody’s Business If I Do’. She didn’t try to imitate Lady Day, but simply sang in a supple falsetto and made the song her own. Terry didn’t miss the underlying message: He wasn’t going to stop Dom from doing whatever it was she wanted to do.
With that, he turned and headed for the door. He looked at the stage one last time, longing scrawled all over his face. Dom looked so beautiful and sounded like an angel from on high who deigned to bless the mere mortals in the restaurant with her voice. He couldn’t stand watching anymore, so he left.

Later that night, Rob drove Dominique home. She was happy to see the old homestead, which was strange because she never really wanted to be there if she had a choice.
“Well—“, Rob began as he brought the car to a stop. “—I don’t know about you, but I had fun tonight.”
“So did I.”
“You was singin’ yo ass off, girl.”
“Thank you.”
“So, Caramel-cutie—“, Rob said as he slipped an arm behind her seat and leaned in closer, “—when are we goin’ out again?”
“That’d be up to you, wouldn’t it?” Dom said and leaned discreetly away.
“Right, right.” He agreed. “What’re you doin’ on Thursday?”
“I gotta work that evening, so how about lunch?”
“That’s Kool and the Gang, Caramel-cutie.” Dom was beginning to hate that nickname. Rob looked at her, waiting for her to kiss him. As cute as he was, Dom wasn’t in the mood to kiss him. She closed her eyes and pretended it was Terry she was kissing. Silently, she hated herself for that. She didn’t want to get carried away so she creased her eyes open and quickly kissed Rob. She suppressed the urge to gag.
“Well, I gotta go.” Dom said as she opened the door.
“Lemme walk you to your door.”
“No, no, that’s alright. Just watch to make sure I get in okay.”
“Awright. See you at rehearsal.”
“Bye.” Dom said. She practically ran to her door and waved Rob off when she opened the door.
The house was quiet and tension free. Ava had to work nights so Dom didn’t have to deal with Ava and her bullshit. She turned off the lights Ava had left on, except for the kitchen light and went upstairs to her room.
Dom was angry at Terry for following her, but a part of her was flattered in some strange, twisted way. She shook her head.
It was totally stupid for her to not be with Terry. He was all she thought about all night and the person she wished was waiting for her when she returned to the table every time she went to the bathroom. She was aware of all this, but her stubborn, bull-headed pride refused to give in to the burgeoning fire growing for him in her heart.

In the shower, however, Dom imagined that the water cascading over her skin was Terry’s hands sliding and caressing her everywhere. Dom closed her eyes imagining that Terry was in the shower with her and that her hands were his as she brought herself to the edge and over it.