The Pop Star and the Dreamer

"It was a rush, that's for sure. Jerry asked me if we wanted to have dinner with them tonight. Are you up for it?"

She looked a little hesitant, so I said, "We don't have to. I did say I would clear it with you."

Her frown eased, and she said, "It might be nice. They seem nice."

We met them at the pub, Kiara looked especially gorgeous. It's not like she wore anything special. She brought a pair of skinny jeans that showed of her long legs perfectly, and a silver sequined top. She just had that star quality, even in an outfit that cost less than a hundred bucks.

The food was nice, and the conversation rolled along. They invited us to go on the Shot Over jet boat ride, which sounded exciting. Kiara was a little skeptical, but in the end, agreed.

It was a Sunday, and in the bar area, we could hear live music. When I asked the waiter, he said, "They have an open mic; come jam in the bar."

Kiara was into it, and said, "Lets go in for a listen.

The bar was noisy, and there were plenty of people, making the atmosphere vibrant. The small stage had a constant string of musos coming and going. Listening was a lot of fun, granted. We didn't know a lot of the songs, but it was nice to be in the environment, live music is so much nicer.

Kiara surprised me when she said. "Why don't you get up, and play a few songs?"

Amy giggled. "You can sing?"

"He's got a great voice, and he plays guitar, as well. Go on, Nash. Don't be shy."

"No, not tonight. Maybe another time."

"Boring." Kiara scoffed.

I stood quickly, saying, "I'm going to get a drink, do you guys all want something?"

At the bar, I watched as they huddled around the table giggling. I could only guess they were talking about me. After placing my order, I went to the toilet for a pee.

Back at the table, the conversation was all about the jet boat ride the next day. I got the surprise of my life when I heard the MC calling my name.

"What the fuck?" I grumbled.

"My fault, Nash." Kiara said. "I talked to him, and booked you a spot. Apparently, there's a guitar up there you can use."

"Go on, don't be a crybaby," Kiara said, goading me.

"Yes, go on, Nash," Amy said loudly.

There was no escaping it. I met the MC, Adam, and he set me up with the guitar. As I was tuning up, we introduced each other, and he explained there were regular jam nights at the pub.

Glancing back at our table, I could see Kiara standing and clapping loudly as Adam announced me.

I played a couple of my own original songs, but decided for my third and final song, to cover one of Kiara's songs.

My version of her song was far different than the pop version she released, but the crowd picked up on it, and started clapping along. Everybody knew it. I mean it was a number one world-wide hit only three years earlier. It got a huge cheer, and the crowd sung the chorus back at me.

Handing Adam the guitar, he gave me a pat on the back. "Awesome choice, my man. You sounded great."

Back at the table, Amy squealed, "Oh that last song. That was magical. I love Kiara, she's amazing."

Kiara gave me a bit of a glare.

After we said our goodbyes. We drove back to the cottage. "That was pretty naughty, playing my song."

"Wouldn't have happened if you hadn't pushed so hard."

"You wanted to get up. I could see it in your face."

"Yeah, but I thought we were keeping a low profile?"

"Nobody knows you, Nash. Sorry, but it's true. I wasn't trying to be nasty."

"Nope, I understand that. It just didn't make sense to take chances."

"You sounded wonderful, you know."

"Thanks, sorry about your song."

"Nonsense, it sounded good."

Inside, I said goodnight. She stayed up, and I heard her on the Roland, working out how I changed her song. It only took her ten minutes, and she had it sorted. I loved hearing her singing it in my style. It was down to earth, real. All the overdubbing stripped away, just the keyboard and her voice. A nice way to be serenaded to sleep.

The jet boat ride was fabulous. The company was good, and we went out to a vineyard that Jerry and Amy had heard about. It was nice.

It was a shame that they were moving on the next day.

Kiara and I settled into a routine, we drove around the countryside, exploring not so much the tourist sights, but ones we found on our own. It was certainly a beautiful country, and the people were really friendly.

Every night, we played together. She was particularly interested in some of my earlier songs. She listened thoughtfully, and found sympathetic accompaniments. Her vocals were so strong once she understood the feeling and cadence of the song.

"These songs, Nash, they are really good. I love your lyrics."

"You didn't think so at my interview."

"I was just being a bitch. I am sorry."

"It's cool, it's nice to gear them sung by somebody who can actually sing."

"Dummy, your voice is perfect for them."

"No, your voice is perfect for them."

"Perhaps, we should record them," she suggested.

"Sounds like fun."

Over the next week, we recorded fifteen of my songs and a couple of new ones that Kiara and I wrote together. It was a blast. I got such a buzz from hearing them and working with her.

She was a different person clean and sober. Well, not completely sober. We did have a couple of drunken nights. Sunday rolled around, and Kiara suggested we go into the jam session.

I was pretty keen: the food was good, and the place had a great vibe.

As we were getting dressed, I said, "We could do it as a duo, you know. We could take the keyboard, and play some of these songs. See if other people like them as much as we do."

She was thoughtful, but I knew the attraction of actually performing in front of people, a real audience, was going to be too much of an incentive for her.

"Yeah, okay. Let's do it.

When we arrived, I quickly found Adam and asked if we could do a few songs. He happily accepted and penciled us in for the second half of the session. That gave us time to get a burger and some drinks.

Strangely, it was Kiara who had the nerves. She seemed to have lost her confidence. "Oh come on," I scoffed. "You've played to hundreds of thousands of people. Shit, last year you played Glastonbury, Summerfest, Coachella, Lollapalooza, and god knows how many others."

"This is different, it's just going to be you and me."

"It'll be awesome, stop trying to talk yourself out of it."

"Nash, I'm scared, It has been a long time since I performed straight. It's sort of how I started taking drugs."

"I'll be there, for Pete's sake, it's a little pub in down town nowhere. Even if we fuck up. Who cares?"

Adam called our names, and I literally dragged her up on stage with me. We started with some of my old songs, so she just sang harmony. When we got to the songs we recorded, she really stepped up. Her voice soared, the intensity went up about ten levels. She had to move away from the mic, her voice was cutting so perfectly.

The small crowd were treated to an incredible show. Once she got into it, she really took off.

We received a standing ovation, as we walked off the stage, and Kiara was pumped. Back at our table, she pulled me into a powerful sensational kiss. "Thank you, Nash. God that felt amazing."

"No, it was better than that. Wow, you really kicked ass out there."

She giggled. "It's your songs, they're really good."

Some of the patrons gathered at our table to say thanks for the songs, and to introduce themselves. Adam came over and joined us. He was really kind, covering us in praise for our performance. He invited us to another jam on Wednesday nights. For this one, he promised us free drinks if we would do a short set of ten songs.

On the drive home, Kiara burst into laughter. "Free drinks. He is paying us with free drinks. God, I wonder what he would say if he knew how much I was paid for Coachella?"

"He would have a fit."

Up until that point, I had the phones turned off, but decided I should just check them. I waited until Kiara was off on one of her walks to turn them on.

They were both full of missed calls and messages. Ralph was apoplectic. He screamed and ranted, calling me all sorts of names. The accusations were pretty appalling. He accused me of kidnapping, and abduction. Apparently, I was nothing more than a scammer, a con artist who was trying to destroy Kiara's career, and ingratiate my way into her life, just to steal her money.

I felt pretty bad; it also made me nervous. Could he convince other people to believe him, and what would Kiara say, or do?"

Lots of questions, but no answers. All I did know was Kiara was healthy, she had put on some weight, yeah she moaned about it, but I thought it looked good on her. She had some curves back.

Our month went far too quickly. As the third week rolled around, I asked. "Are you ready to go back home? There's some pretty angry calls from Ralph the mouth."

She giggled, but looked apprehensive. "Nash, I want to stay longer. I don't care about Ralph. I was going to ask if you would stay with me for another couple of months?"

"Shit, I would love to, but I'm not sure about the visas. I can easily change the flights. The accommodation, as well. Not sure if they have bookings."

"Blah, that's just details. I would love to stay, but don't want to do it on my own."

"You're still the boss, Kiara. What you say goes. Plus, I'd never leave you here alone."

My concerns turned out to be groundless. The visas were easy, the accommodation wasn't booked solid, so with some extra cash as an incentive, they let us book it for two more months.

It did mean we would be there for Christmas, but I had nothing to hurry back for.

Every day, we rehearsed and wrote, spent hours just playing together.

Our Wednesday night gigs at the pub were becoming popular. It was the pub's busiest night if we played. We couldn't accept money for it, because our visas didn't allow. Not that it mattered, we didn't care about the money. We were just making the most of our situation. Kiara craved the spotlight. Her whole life had centered on being the star. It was something she needed.

I guess, even with my limited exposure to performing, I also enjoyed being up on stage. Part of being creative is seeking out other people's approval. You have to have an ego to walk out in front of ten people, thinking that what I'm about to do is good enough. The bigger the crowd, the bigger the adrenaline shot.

I had stood in the wings at major events when Kiara performed, but I had never stood center stage in front of fifty-thousand screaming fans, feeling the throb of their collective voices as they chant your name.

Kiara must miss that. I knew it inside. I loved fronting the old band, and playing to a hundred people. God only knows what it feels like to be the star attraction at a festival.

There was much more happening, though. Seeing the real Kiara emerge from her cocoon was like watching a butterfly develop. The chrysalis broken, her wings spreading.

I couldn't hide from it any longer. I was in love, and not the family friendly idea of love. I was smitten. Whenever she walked into a room, my heart swelled.

It wasn't just me, either. I saw the way she glanced at me; she was feeling what I was feeling. Was it love, though, or was she just horny?

I wanted more, I just didn't have the faith in myself. We had been in the boss/employee relationship so long, I wondered if she could see me as anything else.

With our extended stay in place, we played tourists. Drove to Fiordland, took a cruise through Dusky sound, hiked a little in the bush. It sure was fantastic country. Snow covered alps, native bush and some stunning beaches.

I felt the shift in our relationship. It was never a huge swing, it was a gradual slide. She flirted, we held hands when we walked through shopping centers. We shared drinks when we went to the movies. She cuddled up beside me when we were sitting on the deck watching the sunset.

I'm an idiot: I should have made a move, done something. I was just so conflicted, so tied in knots. I feared that the emotions weren't real on her part. Maybe she was just crying out for attention, and I was there. Maybe she was just grateful that I helped out, and it wasn't love, but simply a dependency.

Our recording sessions were going so well. All my old songs, we revamped, and Kiara had them compiled on what she was describing as my debut album. I laughed it off. Yes, I liked the songs, in fact, with her singing them, I loved them. There was no way I could perform them in these arrangements, though. It depended entirely on her voice, her persona. That was the drive, that's what lifted them.

In many ways, life couldn't have been better. We got on so well. We had our idyllic little cottage, we had our gigs at the pub, which Adam organized for us, little did I know how close we were to losing it all.

It happened at one of those little gigs; we were about four songs in when a young girl started screaming hysterically and came bursting onto the stage. "Oh my god, Kiara. I love your music."

There were large gasps, as more people clicked, and our quiet little life exploded. New Zealand is a small country, and celebrities are a big thing. That day, we went from nobody caring to being surrounded, and Kiara was the center of attention. There was no use denying it. We were probably lucky it hadn't happened sooner.

She was sucked into a mass of people, signing autographs, getting her photo taken with the throngs of fans.

I saw the lift in her spirits after she was recognized, a bit of her old star shone through.

I watched from the side of the stage and Adam came over to talk. "Bugger me, how stupid was I? Bloody hell, how did I miss that?"

"Sorry, buddy, we have been trying to keep a low profile."

"Yeah, what the hell's that about? You know the whole world has been playing this game of where is Kiara? Magazines have been printing all these fake news stories about sightings in Nepal, and different rehab centers."

"We came here to get away from all the crap. She needed some time to gather her senses. She was exhausted, it was never about drugs." I felt bad lying to him, but still felt reticent to reveal everything.

"Well, you chose a good place to hide out, mate."

"We like it, and it would be nice if we could stay a little longer."

"Mate, your cover is blown now. This is going to spread quicker than a bush fire."

"Yeah, I get it. We pretty much cut ourselves off from the rest of the world. We haven't taken calls, we don't watch TV or news programs. I guess we were a bit naive to think that she had been forgotten."

"It is going to blow up, Nash. I'm warning you. There were mobile phones going off like spotlights. Another hour and the internet is going to crash; it'll be a firestorm."

It took ages for Kiara to get clear of the crowd. It was the end of our set, though. I packed up and went to rescue her. There were still a few fans hanging around. "You ready to go, boss?" I asked.

She gave me a happy, but scared look. "Yeah, we should go."

On the drive home, it was silent until we were at the gate. "We're in trouble, aren't we, Nash?"

"Yep, fraid so, boss."

"Stop with the boss stuff, okay? We're more than that, aren't we?"

"I don't know, are we?"

She winced. "I hope so."

"Then what are we, friends?"

"Yes, we're friends." She scowled, but her look said something else. I helped her out of the car and as we always did, we grabbed a bottle of wine and enjoyed the Milky Way, as it filled the sky.

"What should we do, Nash?"

"It depends on you, are you ready to go back to reality? This has been great, but at some point, you had to go back."

"I don't know," she stammered, little tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. "Nash, this has been special for me. I have absolutely loved this."

"So have I. It has been a rush, I have seen inside that facade you put up for everybody else. That meant a lot. I don't know what happens next, but whatever it is, Remember, I'm on your side. I will always be there for you."

We snuggled up on the seat, she leaned against me, her warm body burning into my side. She lifted my arm up over her shoulder, and wriggled squirming to get comfortable.

"We could just ride it out. It might take a few days or weeks to get around."

I pulled out my phone, and fired up our old friend Google. God, it was only two hours, and there it was, top of all the news feeds. "Kiara, found hiding in New Zealand.

With my phone on, the missed calls started beeping away like mad. Messages flooded in.

"You should answer some of those," She giggled.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled hers out, and passed it to her. "You should probably do the same."

She took the phone, but shook her head. "I'm not ready for Ralph, just yet."

My turn to laugh. "He's gonna be all over this. Do want me to talk to him?"

"Yes, if you don't mind. Just tell him I'll call him in a couple of days."

"It's getting cold, perhaps we should go to bed."

She giggled, "Are you trying to seduce me, get me into your bed?"

"No, I was more worried you would get a chill."

"I'm am, how do the locals say it? Snug, as a bug in a rug."

"Okeydokey. If you freeze, remember, I told you so."

Later, after she fell asleep, I carried her into her bed. I was pleased to note, she felt heavier. She was so much stronger now.

The next day exploded. There were news camera crews around town searching for the elusive Kiara. We drove past the pub, and there were at least two news crews there. It was going to be difficult to do anything. Even getting a coffee was now tricky.

We decided to just go back to the cottage. I needed to call Ralph, anyway. I walked up the back away from the house. "Hey, Ralph." I said trying to hide the pleasure that gave me. I was an employee, I wasn't supposed to call him by his name.

"Where the fuck are you? Is it true, you're in New Zealand?"

"Yep, Kiara chose the location. She wanted some space and time to get clean. She didn't want to go into rehab."

"Put her on, I need to speak to her."

"She's not ready to talk. She said she would call you tomorrow."

"Fuck, you snotty nosed little fuck. You steal her away in the night. She was doing fine until you came into her life. This is all your fault. I know you got drugs for her."

"I only ever collected her prescription medications. It was while she was with you assholes she got into other shit."

The real anger in his voice echoed in my ears. "You're going to pay, kid. I've got your fucking number. All you want is to fuck your way into her bank account. Let me tell you kid, you're fucking fired, you got that. You're fucking history."

"Shove it up your ass, Ralph. I don't work for you."

"Yeah? You'll never work again if I get my way."

"Say's you. I said she would call you tomorrow."

Walking back to the house, I got a terrible sense of foreboding. He was going to make it impossible for me.

Kiara was laying on her bed, playing with her phone. When she saw me, she asked, "What did he say?"

"The usual: he hates me, I'm fired. You know what he's like."

She sat up quickly, and stated loudly, "He can't fire you, Nash."

"Yeah, I know, but he's going to make it difficult."

I saw her head drop, and she gave a deep sigh. "Do you want burgers for dinner?"

She giggled. "You read my mind. Where are we going?"

"Nowhere. I was going to cook."

"Wow, the monster Nash burgers. My favorite. Are we having beer, as well?"

"Abso fucking lutely."

I set about preparing the food. That's when I heard the vans in the driveway. There were cameramen, and reporters. Sound and lighting guys.

Rushing in to Kiara, I hissed quietly. "Stay in here. I'll deal with them."

Throwing open the front door, I barked. "What are you doing here?"