Jimmy decided to listen to Macy and minded his own business for the rest of the afternoon. Jessie didn't show up again, neither did he see her before taking his place under the stage in the tech room, simply surveying the electric system to make sure nothing fried.

The acoustic of the place was horrible, all the sounds coming in distorted by the thick wood above his head. He could hear noise, the cheering of the crowd, but not the music per se. Which was a little disappointing since he was curious whether the pop princess lives up to the hype. Sure, the sounds of the crowd indicated that she did, but he didn't trust public opinion that much.

At one point, Macy came in to make sure that everything was fine, and when he confirmed that it was, she actually gave him a rare smile.

The job turned out easy, but boring and rather tiresome. He wasn't sure how he felt about doing that for the rest of the next three venues. Not like he had a choice anyway.

The noise suddenly dimmed and then there was no more instruments and distorted voices, but the pure adulation of the crowd. Jimmy took this as his cue to shut down most of the systems and let the equipment cool off for the night. By the time he came out, the stage was empty, the movers were already gathering the equipment, and the crowd was heading for the exit, chattering excitedly.

Since he no longer had to move stuff, he headed for the back exit which led towards the trailers in which the staff was expected to rest. And just because he was special tech guy, he actually got a tiny trailer all to himself. Which was already an improvement from Tom's cramped up little room in their home. Well, so to speak since he'd been kicked out on the street after turning eighteen.

A vice squeezed his heart as for the briefest moment he remembered the months in which he'd shared Izzy's apartment. But her pulled himself together and focused on the crisp evening air and the positive energy the crowd left in its wake. He wouldn't think about his ex. He'd been avoiding it for months and he wasn't about to relapse. They were over and he didn't regret it or missed her. Sure, he missed the feelings, the infatuation, the happiness, however fake it turned out to be. But not her.

No, he'd focus on other things. Like how it was now fairly quiet and he got to lounge on the loveseat outside his trailer. His back needed it, and laying down with his legs draped over the armrest worked like a charm. Hi ears also needed a break from all the noise.

With his hands under his head, he glanced at the sky. He wished he could see stars, but the city lights blurred them out. Frowning slightly, he wondered if he'd ever actually seen stars. If he had a car, he'd drive out into the desert. He was sure they would look wonderful from there.

The sound of rapid footsteps broke through the silence. It was a little early for the mover to be returning, so Jimmy raised his head slightly to check. A lone figure headed his way, by the looks of it a woman. She stopped right next to a lonely lightbulb shining from the entrance to one of the nearby trailers. The lights sent her flaming curls ablaze.

A knot lodged itself in his throat as he realized it was Jessie. She wore tight leather pants and a corset, with a dark green camisole underneath. Green appeared to be her color as well. What was she doing there? Was she looking for him? Had he screwed something up? But the way she looked around indicated that she was checking for people, not looking for someone. Once she seemed to consider all was fine, she clenched her fists, looked up to the sky and let out a frustrated scream.

Jimmy jumped into a sitting position. His back protested, but he ignored it, staring. She screamed again into the night, bringing her fists to her forehead. How much anger did that girl have in her?

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She flinched so badly, she straightened, her hands falling limp by her side. For a second, she looked terrified and embarrassed. At least until she recognized him and her eyes narrowed.

"You!"

Yes, him. He should've kept her mouth shut. But he couldn't. "What happened? Did anyone else touch your instruments?"

"Why are you out here?"

"I'm the tech guy. I finished doing my tech stuff and I was resting."

Even if she looked ready to smite him with heavenly fire, she took a few steps towards him, away from the path between the trailers. She looked really pretty in the dim light.

"Huh." It appeared like she had nothing else to say.

"You can come closer if you want. I don't bite."

She glared at him, but did step closer. Even so, she kept silent, watching, judging. He tilted his head, wondering just what the hell was going on inside her head right then. Why she'd screamed into the night. He raised his eyebrows, inviting her to speak.

Jessie glanced over her shoulder as if expecting someone to come and save her, but sill walked over. He pulled back to make room for her and she sat next to him, her fists still clenched. She said nothing, merely taking in deep breaths.

"Do you want to talk or should I go inside and let you be?" he asked after a few minutes of loaded silence.

"I'm just so sick of this," she whispered. "So fed up."

"With what? Making music and being adored?"

Her heated gaze shot to him. "You have no idea how lucky you are."

He pulled back a little and raised his eyebrows again. "Excuse me?"

"To be out here. Free. Able to make any decision you want. No pressure, no pretense."

"You think I'm free?"

She frowned at this, as if his words made no sense. "Of course."

Poor little rich girl. Yelling at people, bossing them around, making tons of money and then complaining that she can't have everything.

"No pressure," he mumbled. "Do you think I want to work for you?"

"You get paid very well."

"And that should make me happy, shouldn't it?" He wasn't sure if it was his frustration with the whole matter, their earlier argument or her pretentiousness that riled him up, but he really didn't want to give her this. "I mean the real issues such as freedom and honesty are only for the rich, right?"

"Please," she spat out. "You could get out of here and do whatever you wanted with no real consequences."

"Real? What makes them real? The fact that people would bitch in the press because you quit, or someone not affording to walk away from something because they'd starve? Where's the freedom in that? And more often than not, we have to pretend to like the assholes we work for, so there's the pretense."

"What the hell is wrong with you? You have no idea what my life is like!"

"True. But for you to call me lucky when you have no idea what my life is like is just stupid."

"Oh, yeah?" She put her hands on her hips, angling her body towards him. "Have you been forced to make a show out of your life? Never surrounded by real people you can actually make friends with? Being forced to--" Her voice hitched. "Not being able to draw enough emotion out of your soul and put it down in words."

"I'm a high school dropout orphan working three jobs in hopes of putting my brother through college. I'm not sure I even have a soul anymore."

His words silenced her and she turned to him with wide eyes. There was definitely shock there, maybe a bit of embarrassment, but no pity. He liked that for some reason.

Her eyes suddenly narrowed. "I hate you."

"What?"

"I fucking hate you!"

He was tempted to tell her to keep it down, but her words were a lot more important because they hurt. "You hate me?"

"Yes! Because you just invalidated my feelings! Rich people can cry, too! They can be sad! They can feel like they're nothing!"

"You're definitely not nothing. That crowd--"

"Doesn't know me. They love the poster girl, not the foul-mouthed real person underneath. You have no right!"

"Hey, you're the one who came over to me and started complaining."

"Because I thought you wouldn't judge!"

"I wouldn't have until you called me lucky."

She groaned and pressed her fists against her temples again, biting back a scream of frustration. "Go inside."

"What?"

She straightened and pointed towards the trailer, almost smacking him in the face. "I said go inside."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't have to listen to you."

"Yes, you do, because I pay you."

"I'm off the clock."

"Go!"

He grabbed her wrist and pressed her arm down. "You don't get to tell me what to do, rich princess."

She leaned towards him with a menacing air, their noses almost touching. "Yes, I do, you lucky bastard."

"Take that back."

"Make me."

It was like she'd set fire to his insides with those two small words, spoken like a dare. What shocked him was to realize that the fire wasn't anger, but something else completely. Before he could compute what he was doing and talk himself out of it, he pulled her towards him. 

His mouth landed over hers. The taste of her lips only fanned the flames and he wrapped his free arm around her waist. There was no resistance, no pushing him back. He let go of her wrist and sunk his hand in her hair. Her curls were as soft as he'd imagined and she tasted like cherries.

When she pulled back, he let her, half of him dreading the reaction, what he'd done. He wasn't even sure why he'd done it, but he definitely wanted to do it again.

"Oh my, God," she breathed. Then she took his face in her hands and kissed him.

It was much deeper, much more powerful. And it wasn't just the kiss, but the way in which she seemed to melt into him, how her fingers ran through his hair and she pulled herself closer until she was pressed against his chest. He pulled her into his lap and held her tightly, matching her intensity, enjoying the blazing inferno inside him.

Her hands moved from his hair to his face again, down his shoulders, then his back. She pulled away, her gaze unfocused, her lips swollen.

"I can't believe..." She trailed off. "And with you out of all people."

He let her have her moment, still holding her against him. He could finally take a curl and pull. Watching it straighten and bounce back was mesmerizing.

"I love your hair," he found himself saying.

She twitched at his affirmation, but when he turned his attention from her curls to her, she didn't look annoyed, ashamed or ready to bolt. "You're such a good kisser."

He couldn't keep in a grin. "So I've been told."

She bit her lip and it only made him want to bite it as well. Once she said nothing, he leaned over carefully. She didn't pull back, so he brushed his lips against hers. The shudder of her body only made him want it more, so he took her lower lip between his teeth, applying the mildest pressure. It only earned him another fiery kiss. Yep, he could get used to this.

"Oh, no," she whispered, pulling away and climbing out of his lap.

That sounded very disappointing. "Oh yes?"

"Yes, of course yes." She dug her fingers into her hair.

He wasn't sure what she was talking about, but it sounded much better than no.

"I don't even know your name," she said.

Oh, right, names. "It's Jimmy."

"I'm Jessie."

"I know."

"Shit, I really should be going." She watched him, her gaze wistful. It was like the moment they'd kissed, something had happened to her, because the bossy pop princess seemed to have left room to a real person.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I don't want to worry-- Well..."  She still hovered, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as if waging a war inside herself. Finally, the uneasiness of her face switched to determination. "You know what? I never actually thanked you for catching me earlier today." And she marched back to him.

He stood and welcomed her with open arms, meeting her halfway into another kiss. God, he liked kissing her. It felt amazing, like sinking into hot water after the longest day.

"I really need to go now," she said the moment they broke apart.

"Sure." He wasn't sure why he was saying that. He wanted her to stay.

"And sorry for acting out and everything."

"I hope you feel better."

The small smile on her face seemed to light up the night. There was a huge difference from her upset demeanor and it was suddenly very important that she kept smiling. "Yeah. You got me thinking that I might be lucky, too. So, thank you."

"Anytime, sunshine."

This did it. She grinned at him, proving that the accidental nickname was well deserved.

"I'll see you around?"

It was a question, not an order. He liked it more that way. "Sure. I'll be around."

With a small wave, she headed back into the darkness. Jimmy dropped back on the loveseat, hand behind his head, glancing back at the sky. The fire inside his chest was still there, keeping him warm. And he wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not, but he could now perfectly see the stars.

🌗🌗🌗

Well, that escalated quickly. And I'm sure it will totally not complicate anything. Not at all.

I enjoy writing bratty Jessie, because she needs to unload as well. And things might have gotten the tiniest bit more interesting. Let's see how this plays out before we return to our other favorite couple.

Don't forget to vote and comment for support. Also, anyone have any requests for where the story should go? Just curious, since I'm winging it.