Page 22 of Dead Rockstar

“His name's Phillip,” I said before he had a chance to speak. “And Sloan, he's not-”

“You're really committing, huh?” she said with a laugh. “I don't blame you. Probably good money in impersonations. Do you tour?” She shook her head at me. “Why didn't you tell me? I would have gone with you. I wouldn't mind a lookalike of that drummer, what was his name? I can't ever remember the names in that damn band. He had a girls' name, right?”

“Kim Rzeznick,” Phillip said.

“Yeah. That's him. He was hot as fuck. I'm still pissed he died.”

Phillip went pale and I instinctively reached an arm out to him. Kim Rzeznick had died only two years after Phillip, also from an overdose. I hadn't had a chance to fill him in yet, not after he'd stopped me the night before.

Sloan didn't notice his discomfort. She walked back over to the car. “I think I just need a jump, Storm, if you don't mind pulling the car up. I swear, as soon as I get my paycheck this week, I'll go buy a battery, but I just don't have a spare fifty bucks right now.”

“Try a hundred, or the better part of it,” I said, fishing my keys back out of my pocket. I glanced at Phillip again, worried. “I told you I'd loan you the money-”

“Shut the fuck up,” she said from behind the hood.

“Hang on,” Phillip interrupted. He looked like he'd somewhat recovered from his shock. “Let's try one thing first before you jump her off. Get behind the wheel, Sloan, and when I tell you to start it, give it a try, ok?”

“Ok,” she said dubiously. “But it's dead as fuck.”

She got behind the wheel and put the key in the ignition. Phillip got under the hood and looked at the engine. “Just like my old car, yep,” he said. Then something interesting happened. He put his hands on the battery, and the moment his skin touched it there was a ding, ding, ding – the interior light came on and her radio began to play, blasting out Stone Temple Pilots.

“Hey, it's back!” Sloan exclaimed. “How did you do that? Just a cable loose or something?”

Phillip looked over at me. I was gawking, my mouth open. He gave me an imperceptible nod, and said, “Yeah, something like that.”

She exited the car and gave me a bright smile. “I like this one. Keep him,” she said to me, lighting another cigarette.

“Hey, could I bum one of those?” he asked her.

“Oh, sure.” I watched him light the cigarette, his full lips closing over it, the flame illuminating his skin. “You can't have been dating long if you're smoking. That's one of Storm's deal breakers.” Sloan really believed he was some impersonator. I supposed the mind would make any kind of mental gymnastics to explain the unexplainable. Watching her standing there, talking to Phillip, I decided maybe it'd be better this way. Better if Sloan didn't know the truth.

Her phone rang and she brightened, mouthing “Dan” to me, answered, and walked off in the direction of her shop.

I shuffled my feet and stood there, uncomfortable. Phillip was looking at me. “You sure you don't want a haircut?” I asked Phillip again. “That's what Sloan does for a living, so...”

He shook his head firmly. “No. Thanks.”

“There's a Target not far from here,” I told him. “If you wanted to go grab some clothes.”

He frowned. “I do – I'd really like to get out of this shit. But I don't have any cash on me.”

“I'll buy you some stuff.” As I said it, I did the sums in my head. I wasn't exactly flush, but I had a little saved.

“I can't let you do that. It's not your place to buy me clothes.”

“Phillip, don't be silly,” I said. “I'm happy to. You need clothes, I've got cash. I just got paid. I don't mind.”

“Only if you allow me to pay you back,” he insisted. “Once I get on the road, I can get the money – assuming it’s still there – and I'll pay you back with interest.”

“If you want.” I honestly didn't care. I was with Phillip Deville, for Christ's sake. I'd give my eyeteeth for him. I was curious where he was planning to get it, though. “I'm sorry about what she said. About Kim. I didn't mean for you to find out like that.”

“It's alright.” His eyes met mine, full of grief. “His death is even less surprising than mine was, you know? He was all kinds of fucked up back then.”

“But still, it must be upsetting for you.”

He nodded and put a hand on my arm. “Thanks.”

I felt a jolt when he touched me, and a pang of yearning when he pulled his hand away.

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