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Rock Fever by Theresa Hodge (1)


 

CHAPTER ONE

KIRA

I woke up this morning feeling ecstatic. The shrill cry of my alarm had interrupted the beautiful dream I was having, I am a little upset that I woke up from such a great dream. I dreamt of having dinner with Queen Bey—that’s so freaking awesome. There was just something different about this Monday. By the way, I hated Mondays!

The gentle breeze strolled into my room unguarded, uninvited. I still welcome it, though. I watch as my saffron drapes dance to the rhythm of the whistling wind. A yellow streak of bright sunlight penetrates my windows and gives me a glimpse of what today would look like.

Phew! I’ve got a lot of work waiting for me at the office. That’s enough to kill my joy, but I refused to let work get into this special moment I was having with nature and its elements.

Whenever I wake up, I do as usual. I get my earpiece on and listen to some cool songs; then I drink a glass of water and cucumber juice to clean my system before hitting the streets in my jogging pants and sneakers.

I jogged every day, and I loved the results that I gained from working out. A lot of people told me I had a beautiful body; some were nice about it while some tried to suggest that I had gone under the knife.

Seriously? Not everyone loves to get knocked out!

I was comfortable with my body. Even now, as I stand fully nude under the dim light of my fluorescent bulb, I fall in love with it all over again. Imperfections and all.

“Kira Martin, get with the regimen. That cake you ate last night will go straight to your thighs if you don’t.”

I smiled as I stared at my reflection. I felt a little proud of myself as I realized two years had passed since I had started working at the Daybreak Journal, where I functioned as both reporter and writer. It had also been two years since I started exercising to take better care of myself.

I loved how my dark-brown eyes glowed; I loved how flawless and smooth my skin was, a mocha shade—like brown sugar. Okay, I wished I were taller sometimes, even though I am still okay with my height.

My phone beeped one time, and I rushed to the bed. That was my clock reminding me of my jogging time. I moved straight to my closet and opened it. I took out red sports pants and a dark-blue tee-shirt.

“Got to run, baby, to keep in shape.” I took a deep breath, grabbed my phone, and inserted the earpiece. I was ready for the run!

I lived in a two-bedroom apartment, which I could afford because I had just gotten a promotion from my boss. It was nothing fancy but it was mine. I stepped out of my bedroom and sauntered through the little living room until I reached the door.

My phone beeped once again.

“What now?” I decided to check it. The sound was not the alarm this time.

It was a message. I clicked open the message box and scanned through it; it was work related. Penny Crisp had just texted me to come to the office, ASAP.

I inhaled deeply and decided to focus on my run which would last approximately thirty minutes. I set my time and launched myself into the quiet street.

I reveled in the feeling of the wind caressing softly against my face. I liked the way my Nike-covered feet touched the ground. I smiled at some familiar faces who I had gotten used to after spending almost three years in Rainbow City, Florida.

“Hey, Kira! How’s it going?” One of my neighbors waved at me.

“Everything’s going fine, Jeff.” I waved back and continued running.

I thought of my boss, Penny Crisp. She was a stern woman who was very serious with her work. She wore horn-rimmed prescription glasses, which gave her oval face a nerdy and sophisticated look.

Penny believed in me. She trusted me to handle some critical projects at the office. I did a mental check to be sure I had not done anything to piss her off.

Nah, I am okay. I was clear. I guessed my boss had a new assignment for me, so I pushed worry from my mind and finished my run.

My early morning exercise came to an end the moment my phone alarm buzzed. I needed to get ready for work. A shower was first and then to get dressed.

“Mondays.” I gritted my teeth and raced back home.

***

An hour later

I was fully dressed. I wore a bright yellow dress which complemented my brown complexion and a pair of black heels. I carried my favorite handbag, which I had ordered from eBay, by the way. It was a nude color, and it matched with almost anything.

My hair was fully wrapped into a bun, which gave my face a girl-next-door kind of look. My full lips look soft with a mauve lipstick that I had ordered online. I felt confident in my choice of dress and the way the clothes draped against my body.

“Where are you off to, miss?” A young driver pulled over after I’d hailed the cab.

“I need to go to Daybreak Publishing, on Freya Street,” I said to the guy who I had a feeling was trying to flirt with me, but I ignored him anyway.

My attention was on my phone the whole time. As a journalist, I had to be aware of everything that was happening both on social media and the real world.

“This is bad,” I muttered then bit my lip. There was another bombing in Afghanistan, and a mother and her five children had just been murdered all at once.

I felt nauseous as I stared at the graphic picture. I loved the column I wrote: Celebrity Gossip. I didn’t have the stomach to write about politics and the awful things that followed it.

An incoming call tore my focus from the article. Someone was calling now, but I became relaxed knowing it was not my boss this time.

“Hello?” I decided to take the call the moment we got into a traffic jam. Why not waste away time talking to a to a telemarketer, I suppose? I chuckled.

“Good morning, am I speaking with Miss Kira Martin from Rainbow City?”

Who is this? I stared at the strange number because I hardly took calls from numbers that had not been programmed into my phone. Well, today was a beautiful day, and on days like this, I threw caution to the wind.

I was hesitant to reply at first. “Yes, this is she. Who am I speaking with?”

“My name is Crow Master, and I am calling from ABC radio station. You participated in an online contest which you emerged the first-place winner. You have won two tickets and backstage passes to the next concert of the Trash Monkeys!”

My heart stopped. Was I hallucinating or something?

“Wait, are you Crow Master, like Crow Master the celebrity disc jockey host?”

There was only one Crow Master that I knew, and he was one of the best hosts from my favorite radio station. There was something about Crow Master; he exuded this confidence when talking to people. He had a deep, rolling voice which dripped like honey in my ears and had the faint hint of an Irish accent.

I bubbled with excitement and waited eagerly for his response.

“You are correct. I am the one and only,” Crow Master replied in a jovial tone.

My ears tingled, and my smile grew wide as my insides bubbled over with excitement. “You mean I am going to see the Trash Monkeys? Are you kidding me?”

I am more elated by the minute.

The Trash Monkeys were the latest rock band gone platinum as stated in the US Musical Journal. Though up-and-coming, they had produced a hit that had shaken the whole country. They were popular, and I was a big fan.

“Can you tune in now?” Crow Master asked politely.

“Sure. I would be happy to.” I nodded and quickly tuned in to the ABC radio station. I had the app already downloaded on my cell phone.

“Okay, I just finished speaking with Kira, our winner for the month. Do you have anything to say to us, Kira?”

I licked my lips nervously. “I don’t know what to say, Crow Master, I am just overwhelmed that this came through for me. Thank you, everyone, at ABC Radio!”

I was super excited about the Trash Monkeys. This was the first time I’d won a contest of this kind. I got to meet Blade Benefield live and in person. Oh my God, my mind cried out in delight.

Once I finished speaking, Crow Master said a few words and rounded off the show with Illicit, the hit song from the Trash Monkeys.

The harmonious mix of guitars, drums, and musical voices melted my heart. I couldn’t hold myself back from singing along.

“This feeling ain’t right. We’re fire and Ice. But I chose to cling…roses and thorns. Baby, I decided to cling…even when I know it’s fucking illicit!”

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