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I once heard a question
I once heard a question that both unnerved me and made things startlingly clear: is it more important to love someone with all your heart…
…or to be loved by someone with all of theirs?We all want to fall head-over-heels in love, and we all want the other person to love us back exactly the same. But that’s not usually the way it turns out.In fact, I think that’s rarely the way it turns out. Both people may be in love, but it always seems one person is more in love than the other.So… if you had to choose, which would it be?Love someone else passionately and completely, even if they don’t feel as powerfully as you?Or be loved passionately and completely, even if you don’t feel exactly the same towards them?I thought I knew the answer when I heard the question.Then I found out years later that no… I didn’t know the answer at all.
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Affair with the Rockstar Present Day
I sat across from the Rolling Stone editor in his office overlooking midtown Manhattan.I’d arrived 15 minutes early for my meeting. I thought I was there to interview for some lowly staff position. Layout grunt… gofer… toilet scrubber.Actually, I hoped and dreamed it was a staff position. As desperate as I was, I would have taken an unpaid internship.I mean, come on. It was Rolling Stone.Glen the editor sat across the desk from me, hands folded, serene. He was bald on top with curly hair around the sides, and he wore black, plastic-frame hipster glasses. His personal sense of style was somewhere between 70’s Rocker and College Professor.“Kaitlyn Reynolds. Finally we meet. Good to put a face with the voice over the phone.”“Same here. Nice to meet you, too.”“Journalism degree from Syracuse, right?”“Yes.”“When did you graduate?”“A year ago.” I put on a polite smile. “Almost to the day.”“I read the pieces you emailed me. Not bad. Not great… but not bad.”Not great… but not bad.
Affair with the Rockstar Present Day
I stared at the editor. My smile was still in place, but it was more like a waxworks expression, it was so fake. “Um… what is it that you want, exactly? Because I’m not doing some kiss-and-tell piece.”Glen waved his hands as though to ward off bad mojo. “Oh, no no no no no. Nothing like that.”“…what, then?”“Well, as you know, Kane is notoriously averse to the press.”Actually, I did know that. Just because I hadn’t talked to him since our final day together didn’t mean I hadn’t been keeping tabs on him.‘Notoriously averse to the press’ was kind of like saying ‘The Pope isn’t tremendously fond of gay marriage.’Derek hated the press. Hated them. With a vengeance bordering on lunacy. He’d go on shows to perform, no problem – Letterman, Conan, Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel. He’d go on Ellen and banter with her.But what he would not do was talk to the press. Not Rolling Stone, not Spin, not The New York Times, not the Anytown USA Herald. He hadn’t for years.Which had the curious effec
Affair with the Rockstar four Years Ago
It was the spring of my Freshman year in college, two weeks away from finals. I was in my dorm room at the University of Georgia, reading up for a test the next morning in my English Lit class, trying to ignore the phone call from three days earlier that was still playing in an endless loop in my head.“Are you seeing anybody?”“No, Kevin, I’m not. You know I’m not.”“You’re not attracted to anybody, are you? If you are, I wish you’d just come out and tell me right now and be honest about it.”“God, how many times do I have to say it?”“Don’t curse at me, Kaitlyn.”“I wasn’t – fine. Sorry.”“Well – are you?”“Am I what?”“Attracted to anybody else?”“NO! GOD, how many times do I have to – ”“I told you, don’t curse – ”“I wasn’t fucking cursing, Kevin! NOW I’m fucking cursing!”“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”“You don’t even hear me when I DO talk to you!”“Well, maybe we shouldn’t talk for awhile, then.”“…Kevin…”“Maybe we should take a break.”“Kevin, come on – there’s
Affair with the Rockstar Four Years Ago
I heard the key fumble and scrape noisily across the lock. It was the sound I called ‘the Drunk Doorbell’ – a sure sign that Shanna was blasted.It was usually accompanied by ‘the Drunk Disclaimer.’“Shhhh,” she giggled out in the hallway. “We gotta be quiet cuz I got a roommate…”Ah, there it was.“I’m awake,” I called out. “You don’t have to be quiet.”The lock clicked and the door crashed open, and Shanna stumbled into the room. “Oh, thas’ good…”I turned around from my desk to look at her. She was cute – not gorgeous, but she had a great smile and knew how to work a push-up bra. And she was very outgoing. I’d had a lot of practice in fending off guys – most of them assholes, some of them charming – but I never, ever flirted with anybody. Shanna didn’t just flirt, she manhandled.“I didn’t wake you up, did I?”“No.”“It’s okay, right?” she asked, her eyes defocused, her body weaving slightly. “I haven’t had a Shanna Night in… awhile… right?”That’s what we called the ‘one night a w
Affair with the Rockstar Four Years Ago 3
But I played it as cool as I could, and gave him a You are SO full of shit smirk. “Studying’s important? Really.”He matched me grin for grin. “It obviously is to you.”Shanna was getting pissed that Derek was ignoring her. So she played her trump card.“Kaitlyn has a boyfriend,” she announced loudly.As soon as she said it, my stomach twisted with guilt – and anger.“No I don’t. We broke up three days ago, remember?” I snapped.“You always break up and get back together,” she said petulantly, then turned to Derek. “They’re high school sweethearts. They’ll be back together by tomorrow night, just watch.”In addition to my anger and guilt, I also felt a tiny bit of fear – that Derek would lose interest in me.I reprimanded myself. I was bad to feel that way. Shanna was right, I’d probably be back with Kevin in another couple of days.And if I kept talking to Derek, it would just confirm all of Kevin’s worst accusations.It’s better if he loses interest now, I told myself dejectedly.Bu
Affair with the Rockstar The answer sent thrills
The answer sent thrills through my belly.It was obvious that he was flirting with me… and brazenly, at that.But I struggled to keep the upper hand. “It’s the wrong question,” I said.“Oh? What’s the right question?”“What does an individual woman want? Women aren’t all the same. They don’t want the same things.”“Well… what do you want?”Oh my God.His voice…I was melting at the sound of it.And then my roommate spoke up.“I know what Shanna wants,” Shanna slurred from her bed. “Shanna wants to get laid.”Then it hit me how much of a bitch I was being. She’d gotten this guy; she’d brought him back; and here I was, stealing him away from her. Me, with a boyfriend.Well, an ex-boyfriend… who would probably be my boyfriend again within 24 hours.Time to bail.“I should leave you two,” I said, and moved to go.Derek put out his hand. “No – stay. We’re having a very interesting conversation here.”“About the Wife of Bath,” I gently mocked him, totally not believing him.“And the Wife
Affair with the Rockstar Derek was still watching
Derek was still watching me hesitantly, like he was afraid I might be judging him.That was the exact same way I’d felt before, when he’d asked me what I wanted out of life. Afraid of judgment. Afraid of being made fun of.Only difference was, he’d opened up to me, totally and completely.“That was really beautiful,” I said softly.He relaxed. “Thanks,” he said, and flashed that sexy, charming grin.I think it was the grin that broke the spell.I went from seeing the magic and wonder of a child entranced by music, to seeing the incredibly good-looking guy who knew all the girls were into him.I mean, I still felt like everything he’d said to me was real… but for the first time, I considered the possibility that it had also been a performance.I gave him an impish little smile. “And you’ve never told that story to any other girl, have you.”“No. Never,” he said solemnly, though he nodded his head ‘yes’ as he said it.I laughed – at least he was honest (or semi-honest) about his bullsh
Affair with the Rockstar Present Day
Glen stared at me like I’d just turned down a million dollars for doing nothing more than writing a book report.“What?” he asked, stunned.“No,” I croaked, fully aware I was throwing away the best opportunity of my career thus far. Maybe even the best opportunity of my entire career, even if it lasted four decades. “Sorry.”“You do understand what I’m offering you, right?”“To write an article on Derek Kane.”“And the band,” Glen stressed, as though that might be the piece of information I had overlooked.“Yeah. No thank you.”“Not just a half-page fluff piece – I’m talking a full-on, six-page spread. I mean, if you turn in a good enough story, we’re potentially talking the cover.”“Yeah. Thank you, but no.”The longer he stared at me, the more his disbelief turned to anger. “You do realize that is a one in a million offer, right? You don’t just get handed the cover of Rolling Stone – not when you’re some unknown writer a year out of college. I mean, you realize that, right?”“Yes, a
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