Tag: groupie

groupie

Jamie 1-844-332-2639 ext 461

I leaned back against the peeling faux-leather sofa, nursing a flat ginger ale. My eyes weren’t fixed on any one person; they were sweeping, taking inventory of the faces that mattered. The ones leaning over the mixing board, the ones holding the actual contracts. My gaze skipped past the girlfriends, the wives, the stable ones. They were wallpaper.

I live for the proximity. I don’t care about the music, not really. When you’re standing next to someone who is currently being applauded, some of that heat spills onto you. I care about the glow. For a few hours, I’m not just so-and-so from nowhere; I’m Jamie who was with HIM. It’s a borrowed shine, and I’m addicted to the reflection.

Continue reading “I Only Have Eyes For Him…Until I Don’t.” →

groupie Jamie ext 461

I smoothed down the frayed hem of my cutoff shorts, letting my fingers linger on the tattered band patch sewn onto them. Another city, another arena, another high that pulsed through me like the bass line thrumming through the floor. I wasn’t some starry-eyed fan at the barricade; I was part of the chaos, an honorary member of the circus.

My life was a blur of tour buses, grimy green rooms, and the fleeting intimacy of late-night hotel rooms. Some girls want the ring, the white picket fence. Me? I want the next gig, the next scream from the crowd, the next chance to lose myself in the primal rhythm of a live show.

Continue reading “the tattered band patch” →