Page 1 of Rockstar Baby
One
Fuck me running.
I peered through the windshield at the blur of white coloring the world around me. Thethunk-thunk-thunkof the wipers didn’t do a thing for visibility. The sound just pissed me off.
If the plane hadn’t been delayed, I would’ve traversed these back roads in the daylight. Or closer to it. Of course Kellan hadn’t seen fit to tell me that he lived in the middle of nowhere.
His hometown was probably rustic and lovely in the summer. In this hell they called winter? It was complete shite.
Add in something called lake effect on the weather report—what the heck was that?—and I was already over Turnbull, New York before I’d even reached it.
My cell rang through the audio system of my rental car.Kellan McGuire.
The reason I was even here. The guy was lucky I liked him.
“Kellan, I’m almost there.”
“Are you?” He didn’t sound as happy as he should have considering the thousands of miles I’d traveled.
Hello,Iwas the pissed off traveler. He was the bloke sitting on his living room couch and twirling a pencil while he pretended to be productive.
“I think so. Maybe.”
“What mile marker did you pass?”
“Come again?”
“There’s mile markers on the side of the road. They’re to help during winter conditions since we get some travelers passing through to Syracuse and Rochester.”
I squinted into the snow slanting down in front of my headlights and wondered why I hadn’t hired a driver.
It’ll be more of an adventure this way.
Turnbull isn’t far from the airport.
When else am I going to see the quaint bits of New York?
I was a fucking moron.
“I can’t see a bloody thing out here,” I muttered.
“They’re there, trust me.”
“I’ve been driving a good while and I haven’t seen a damn thing but snow. What the hell is lake effect? I thought being near bodies of water was a good thing.”
Kellan let out a low laugh. “Not this time of year around here. Look, it’s getting late.”
I glanced at the time. Past ten. Jesus. I hadn’t realized I’d been driving this long. As it was, I’d be in town barely a day before I hopped on the red eye back to LA tomorrow night. Kellan and I were working on a song together and between both of our hectic schedules, a day was all we’d been able to carve out.
The hours were ticking by and I was driving in circles in a blizzard. It was a miracle I’d even made it across the country to New York when flights were being cancelled right and left.
“You’re right, it is. My GPS says I’m on North Hollow. Isn’t that the road I’m supposed to be on?”
“If you’re headed to Turnbull, yes, but I’m just outside Turnbull. Remember I told you it was easier to go to Crescent Cove then program it for my address? Otherwise the GPS takes you the other way.”
“The way with no mile markers?”
Kellan laughed. “Essentially. Sorry, man.”
