Page 4 of Meant To Be - Irresistible Bachelors

I told Rocky ten years ago that I was taking a few months off to focus on writing songs and being creative in the studio, but those few months turned into ten years, and I haven’t put out a song since. When he mentioned this tour, I told him no one would want to see me because I haven’t had a hit in years, but he reassured me that my fans are still loyal and that they’ve been waiting for me to come out of my hiatus. I want to give them the best show of their lives, but I haven’t been able to write a single song. Sure, I still have my hits from ten years ago, but my fans have been waiting long enough; they deserve something new.

I scratch my head as I try to think of something to write, but nothing comes to mind. Words used to pour from my soul onto the page. For a while, I wrote during my hiatus, but then, I lost all my inspiration. After five years of not putting out a hit, I figured everyone had forgotten about me, but I guess I was wrong. I just hope I can compare to Nikki Minx. I was a rock legend in my day, but she’s one of the biggest superstars in the world right now. There’s no doubt in my mind that our tour sold out because of her.

I haven’t touched a stage in a decade, and I would hate to be the reason why our concerts bomb. She recorded a song that is the biggest hit on the radio right now, and I can’t write one single song. I rub my temples as I try to think, but it’s like my brain just won’t work. I sigh heavily as I recline back in my seat. This is going to be much harder than I expected. Writing music used to come naturally to me, and I thought it would be like riding a bike – something you never forget – but I’m starting to question if I was ever good at it to begin with.

I close my eyes as I try to let the words come to me, but my thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Rocky through the glass window. He’s wearing a smile. I motion for him to come inside, and as soon as he steps through the door, I can feel his jovial energy. My portly manager always seems to be in a good mood, no matter what the circumstances are.

“Leo!” he exclaims with his arms open wide.

I get up from my seat and walk over to him; I am in need of a break anyway.

“You don’t know how good it feels to see you in the studio again,” he continues, wrapping his arms around me and patting me on the back.

Rocky has been managing my career ever since I went solo twenty years ago. He’s both my manager and my friend. He has been waiting for the perfect opportunity to get me back into the studio, and he knew a tour would be it. He understood that I needed to take time off, but my time away from music put a dent in his pockets. The savvy shark in a suit manages multiple musicians, but besides Nikki Minx, I’m the most successful singer he manages.

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” I reply.

“A while? Try a decade, buddy,” he chuckles.

He’s right – a while is an understatement.

“The only thing that matters is that I’m here now,” I say.

“Yeah, you’re right. How’s the song coming along?” he asks as he glances down at the blank sheet of paper.

“It’s coming,” I lie.

I don’t want to admit to him that I’m having trouble writing a song because he’ll send in a team of writers again. My fans want the real me and my real music, not songs written by a bunch of kids who think they know what music is.

“Doesn’t seem like you have anything yet,” he notes.

“I’m still working on it, but I’ll have something by the time we go on tour,” I assure him confidently.

“Leo, the tour starts in three days. How are you going to have something ready to go by then?” he questions.

“The song will be ready, Rocky,” I promise him. “What’s going on with the girl?”

“Who? Nikki? She’s just about ready. We just have to make a few more final decisions for her hair and costumes. Speaking of costumes, I’ve hired a stylist for you while we’re on tour,” he announces.

“Don’t need one,” I mutter.

“Leo, this is a huge comeback tour for you,” he says.

“I know.”

“So, you’re aware that every little detail of your performance is important?” he asks.

“Yup,” I say as I light a cigarette.

“Good…because I hired a stylist,” he states firmly.

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