"Easy. Because I'm no different from any other person," I told him. "You can't honestly believe I don't wonder what it is you see in me. You can have any woman you want. Someone as beautiful and famous as you are-"

"I'm gonna fuckin' lose it, if you keep talkin' this shit, Baby Girl. I'm gonna flat-out lose my shit-"

"Why?"

"Because there is no one else for me but you! Can you honestly tell me you don't feel that?"

His voice was steadily increasing in volume, and I had to hold the phone away from my ear or risk damaging my hearing.

"I do feel that way about you," I tried to assure him. "I just can't help but wonder what it is you see in me."

"Do I have to spell it out for you? You're amazin' and brilliant and so fuckin' gorgeous that I can hardly look at you without my dick salutin' you. I've spent these last years locked in my own mental hell because there is nothing I want more than to be yours! Everythin'-from the way you laugh to the way you think and even the fuckin' way you smell...it's everythin' I want to bury myself in! And I don't care if it's sick or fucked up or just fuckin' wrong. I've never felt so right as I do when I'm with you. I know who I am when I'm with you!"

Holy fucking shit.

"Damn it, Phil." I sniffed, my eyes and nose starting to burn.

His breath was coming out in harsh bursts. "Don't cry," he whispered. "I don't want you to cry, Baby Girl."

"Well, don't say shit like that to me then!" I wailed and proceeded to burst into snorting sobs.

I heard him sigh. He waited until I finished.

"I don't ever want to have this conversation again," he told me. "I never want you to question your own worth in my eyes ever again. What I see in you is the greatest thing in my world, and it has been since the moment I first saw you, all right?"

"All right."

We were quiet for a few minutes, lost in our own thoughts. There were so many things I wanted to know, that I needed to figure out, and the only way that would happen was if I didn't remain silent.

"Why do you call me Baby Girl?" I asked.

"I don't know. I just feel like that's what I should call you."

"You've never called anyone else that?"

"No. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"There's only one Baby Girl," he said with a tired sigh. "And it's only ever been you."

My heart warmed with his words. "I love that you call me that. The first time I heard it in 'A Madman's Love Letter,' I wanted to believe so badly that you wrote that about me, which is sick considering-"

He laughed. "Funny thing about that, it wasn't meant to be anything. I was stuck in the studio late one night to fix some lyrics for 'A Fist to the Face,' but I couldn't stop thinking about you. I, uh...I record a lot of my thoughts down 'cause it helps me write later on. Well, the tape was rollin', and...I just started sayin' shit about what I'd do if I ever got my hands on you."

"I get so horny whenever I listen to it," I confessed.

"I was totally jackin' off in the sound box while I recorded it."

I knew it! I totally called that shit!

"I forgot to erase it, and the next day, the guys heard it and wrote music to it."

"You were amazing on Friday, performing it onstage."

"I was hopin' you were there. Flipper insisted we play it. I guess now I know why." He laughed.

"You've been one of my heroes for a long time, Phil," I told him. I heard his sharp intake of breath. "I've gone to every show I possibly could. I have all of NOLA's Junk's CDs and DVDs. I think if this is surreal for anyone, it's me. I guess it's just difficult for me to accept that. It's kind of hard to think of you as my man when you've been more like a heavy metal god for me."

"I am your man. And the last time I checked, I was pretty fuckin' mortal."

"I know. In any case, I prefer the man."

"Why's that?"

"Because he's mine."

Our phone conversation had been a long one last night. It had been a lot easier to be open with him when we weren't in the same room. Not having to look at him had helped keep my train of thought in check. He just turned me on, and when he got pissed, it really turned me on.

I had woken up with my phone in my hand, having fallen asleep still on the line with him at some point. I hadn't done that since high school. It was ridiculous, how young and giddy I felt with him-not that I was old, but still. I guessed I had felt pretty old for a long time. After all the responsibility and studying I'd had to do to get to where I was, it was nice to have something that made me want to act like I was actually twenty-four, not fifty-four.

It was a seriously warm day, so I pulled my long hair over my shoulder and braided it.

I really need to cut it. It's been, like, two years.

It nearly reached my ass and had no style.

Dirty hippie.

Baggy jeans, ZoSo T-shirt, black Jackie O's, and black flip-flops on, I headed out the back door, deciding to walk over and enjoy the late morning sun. I was still a bit nervous about seeing him today, but I was excited all the same.

I was really trying to take my time and force myself to be mindful of my actions rather than cha-chaing my ass over to Phil's. I wanted to be able to think straight around his giant self. I thought that was part of the problem. He was so much larger than life-in personality and physical presence-that he could be a bit overwhelming to my senses.

Walking up to the side door, I could hear people talking inside-no, they were arguing, and that was Phil yelling. After a few minutes, I just turned the knob and walked in without knocking. The whole band plus their manager, Tim, were in Phil's kitchen, and the discussion seemed pretty heated.

"...complete fuckin' bullshit!" shouted Phil. "We just got home! We haven't been back a fuckin' week-"

"It's just a few days, man," said X, attempting to calm his best friend.

"I don't want to go either," said Flipper, "but it's not like we're leaving the country."

"I told the record company you guys needed some time-" Tim tried to tell them.

"We're done with this fuckin' shit from them! The second our contract is up in December, we're out!" Phil's voice spit. "For years, we've busted our asses, never seeing our family, never coming home-"

"Hi, Kenna!" Flipper projected loudly, smiling and waving.

Phil whipped around to find me standing by the door.

"Hey, guys. Bad time?" I joked.

Phil, X, and Flipper said, "No."

Jason snapped a scornful, "Yes."

Phil rounded on Jason. "Can it, douche. This concerns her, too."

"Are you fuckin' serious?" shouted Jason, turning several shades of incredulous.

"I'm fuckin' serious!" yelled Phil.

The rest of us flinched from the loudness.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Since when has she had anything to do with band business?" snarled Jason with loathing.

"Since the second she stepped into my life!"

"So, that's how it's gonna be then? As long as Dr. Yoko-"

"I will punch you in the fuckin' throat, so help me God, Jace-"

"She ain't no Yoko!" shouted Flipper.

Oh, damn. Dr. Yoko? I really should go.

I sidestepped silently toward the door and reached for the knob.

Phil busted me and glared. "Don't fuckin' move, Baby Girl."

"Everyone, just shut the fuck up!" shouted Tim, apparently discovering a pair dangling from somewhere.

Phil strode over to me and grabbed my hand. "Rattlesnake wants us in New York to record 'Louisiana Baby' for radio play."

"Okay," I said. "When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow mornin'."

I nodded and asked, "What does this have to do with me?"

"Nothin'!" stated Jason. "It has abso-fuckin'-lutely nothin' to do with you!"

Phil straightened to his massive full height, his back rigid, and the immense fury pouring out of him was palpable. I saw Tim shudder and close his eyes in terror.

Poor dude.

He seemed to be the bearer of ill tidings for Phil, and it didn't look like he enjoyed a single minute of it.

"Jason," Phil said.

His voice was so low and deadly that a little tendril of fear snaked its way into my chest for the guitar prodigy.

"You keep mouthin' off at my woman, and I will not hesitate to beat the livin' shit out of you."

Flipper's and X's spines straightened, too, and I was starting to feel as apprehensive as Tim appeared.

"Back off, Jace," X warned, his own voice pitching deeper than normal.

Jason shut his mouth, but he glared at me all the same. I knew his apathy toward me was in part due to Sheri. But I couldn't for the life of me understand why he was this pissed because I was here. I hadn't said a single word to him, and my actions had been nothing but respectable. If he thought I was there to destroy my favorite band on the planet, he could think again.

"You have to go, Phil," I said, looking up into his eyes. "There needs to be a decent recording for radio play. They bleep everything out. The fans deserve it-"

"We're also booked to do this week's Metal Madness Hour!" blurted out X, bouncing a little.

"Seriously? Like, Thursday's episode?" I asked, his excitement infecting me.

They all stared at me now, looking surprised that I watched it.

What dumbasses. Of course, I watch it!

"We'll be shootin' it on Tuesday," said Flipper.

Jason's glare had softened a bit.

"Sweet," I said to Flipper.

"We won't be back until Friday afternoon," said Phil, his voice shaking with anger.

"So? It's just a few days. You have to go."

He looked at me, his sweet brown eyes pleading for...something. The thing was, whatever he was asking me for, I couldn't give. I actually happened to agree with Jason in this regard. I had nothing to do with the band.

"Come with me," he begged, his voice turning soft.

"I'm slammed with work, babe. There's no way I can up and leave."

His eyes closed in resignation.

"Phil?"

"Yeah, Baby Girl."

"I'll still be here when you get back."

He nodded and squeezed my hand.

"Is it settled then?" Tim asked. He still had his eyes closed.