Lola

 

Lola sat cross-legged on the bed, scribbling madly in a notebook as the words came to her. She let her hand take over, not thinking about anything until she was finished. When she finally sat back to read the lyrics from beginning to end, she grunted with disgust and tore the page from the notebook. Crumpling it, she pitched it across the room to the trashcan. It bounced off the rim and landed on the floor amongst a pile of similar balls of paper.

 

It looked so easy when the producers did it. More than once, she had seen the studio men come up with a song in less than an hour, writing it off the cuff and only changing a few words or notes until it was perfect. She envied their creativity, and she longed to be able to expose the side of her that wanted to speak out. Sure, it was fun to strut around on stage and sing about how hot a guy was or how horny she was for him, but Lola craved something a little deeper. She’d tried here and there, when she thought she’d come up with some lyrics she thought they could use, but her producer always gave them back to her with a shake of his head. “Lola, honey, you just leave this part up to me. I know what people are looking for, and I just need you to give it to them for me.” His words stung, but they hadn’t stopped her.

 

And of course, it wasn’t easy to feel creative when she was stuck in a hotel room with all the curtains drawn. It would have been nice to at least let a little sunshine in, but that was impossible while the herd of fans was still outside.

 

A knock sounded on the door. “It’s me,” Butch announced, not making her guess.

 

“Come in,” she sighed, shutting the notebook and tossing it on the nightstand. “What’s up?”

 

“Just checking on you to see if you need anything.”

 

“You know what I need,” she countered.

 

“And you know I can’t give it to you.” Butch gave her a small smile, trying to placate her. “Why don’t you let us try to organize this chaos? I’m sure I can get the hotel manager to coordinate with us and only let a few people into the lobby at a time. They’ll be screened for weapons, and then you can sign autographs. At the very least, it will make the time go by a little faster for you.”

 

Lola rolled her eyes. Butch was a good guy, but despite his years in the entertainment business, he just didn’t get it. “I don’t feel like dealing with fans. I came here because I had some things to take care of, not to get mobbed. Besides, don’t you think the crowd will just increase if they find out they have a chance at an autograph and a picture? Personally, I’m hoping they’ll eventually give up and go away.”

 

“Not likely. They love you too much.”

 

“I wish I could say the feeling’s mutual.”

 

Butch rolled his big shoulders. “Well, just let me know if you need anything.”

 

“Right.” Lola picked up her cell phone as he left the room and tried her mom’s cell number once more. She had been trying to get a hold of them all morning, even though she wasn’t sure why she bothered. If they weren’t answering either of their cell phones or the house phone, then they obviously didn’t want to talk to her. But she still wanted a chance to make things right. She left yet another voicemail and hung up.

 

The phone rang a moment later and she jumped at it, thinking it was one of her parents. It was Brittany instead. “Oh, my God! I just saw all this on the news! Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Lola sighed, wishing Brittany could have been there with her. It would have been so much more fun to be stuck in the hotel if they could be together, trying on makeup and gossiping. “I’m sorry. It’s just been kinda crazy around here.”

 

“Can’t you just come home?”

 

“Ugh, no! Victor and Butch are all hung up on the safety aspect of it. I get it, and I can’t say I enjoyed having bullets whizzing over my head yesterday, but it’s so frustrating.” She picked at the stitching on the comforter as she talked, wishing she had never come back to Rolling Hills.

 

“Have you heard from your parents? I mean, did they at least call after the attempt on your life?”

 

It was a good point, and it was one that hit Lola hard. She blinked back tears. “Ha. No.”

 

“What are you going to do now?”

 

“Just wait it out until someone tells me I’m allowed to leave, I guess. There’s not much else I can do.”

 

“Well, call me if you need anything, and keep me updated. I’ve got to go. I have to be on a movie set in an hour, and I still haven’t finished packing all my brushes.”

 

“Okay, see ya.” Lola hung up, feeling even more homesick than ever. It was ironic, but it was true. This town definitely wasn’t home anymore, and it hadn’t been in a long time.

 

Chris came into the room only a few minutes later.

 

“What?” she barked at him. She’d never been a big fan of this guy, but she didn’t have a good reason for it. He had always just seemed so arrogant, and Lola met enough arrogant people working in the business she did. Chris was so full of himself it was sickening.

 

“Vic just called me,” he explained. “He said he tried your number several times but couldn’t get an answer.”

 

“Duh. That’s because I don’t want to talk to him.” Lola had seen the calls as they came through, and she had ignored each one of them. Victor was just going to keep trying to convince her that this was a good thing. But getting nearly killed could never be a good thing, and it was particularly bad when the shooter was still out there somewhere. Unless he had a solution for her, she didn’t want to talk to him. She told Chris as much.

 

“What’s wrong? Is the princess tired of being locked in her tower?” Chris asked with a fake pout.

 

“Fuck, yes, I am,” she retorted. “I’m bored to death.”

 

“You know, I could always entertain you, if you’d like.” He came close to the bed so that he was looming over her. He might have been a handsome man if only he’d had a different personality, but Lola had been able to see right through him from the beginning. “There are rumors circulating about the two of us already.”

 

Pressing her fingers against her eyelids, Lola wished she hadn’t heard that. She’d been doing her best not to watch the news that day, since the only thing anyone seemed interested in talking about was the fact that she was at the stupid Magnolia Blossom Hotel in stupid Rolling Hills. “I highly doubt that.”

 

“You shouldn’t.” Chris pulled his phone out of his pocket and began scrolling. “Ever since this wacko tried to off you, you’re the only thing anyone wants to talk about. They aren’t just talking about the shooting, either. Every news channel is trying to dig up something new on you.”

 

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

 

“Isn’t it? Especially when they say I might be fucking someone like Lola Lennox.” He waggled his eyebrows in a manner that was supposed to be suggestive. “Look, it says it right here.” Chris turned the phone around so she could see.

 

Lola didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t help herself. She quickly absorbed the headlines stating that she had been constantly seen with the hot young bodyguard. There was even a picture that was supposed proof, when Chris had his arm around Lola’s waist. “I remember that day,” she spat. “I had just tripped, that was all.”

 

Chris shrugged. “It’s enough for them, and it’s enough for me. What do you say? Should we lend a little truth the rumor?”

 

Closing her eyes once again, Lola gritted her teeth. “I want you to get out of this room right now.”

 

“But—”

 

“Now! And don’t come back in. I’m going to draw a bath and order room service. And before you ask, I don’t need your assistance.” She got up off the bed and shoved him toward the door.

 

The one good thing about this room was that it did have a nice big jacuzzi tub. Lola had already showered that morning, but a long soak in hot water sounded like the perfect thing to make her relax. She ordered a meal as the tub was filling, turned on some classical music on her phone, grabbed her lyric notebook, and sank into the tub.