Cadence of the Heart: Big lovin collection, #2

By Amelia K Oliver

Jimmy Lee has the WorlD at his FeeT, his fans LoveD him, he was on top his game, everything he has ever wanted is there for the taking - except - he doesn't want it anymore.
Dr*gs blurred his vision, but he saw her through the crowd.

Felicity didn't want to go to the concert, maybe fate had a hand in it. Her world is about to spin completely out of control.
Fear crippled her, but she saw him on stage.

Neither of them will be the same again. 



Warnings -
Past r*pe, an*se, t*rture, self h*rm and DV is mentioned throughout this book. No on paper instances but recolections of the past.
Rockstar/rap star romance.
MF.
Some MM
Contemporary romance.
Heartbreaking story.
18+ only.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WinBeFam
• Release date: Jan 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215545676

Book preview

b

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"The limelight comes with sacrifice. They split your very being wide for everyone to see. Your innards are spilt, put on show and examined with a million fine-toothed combs. From your early childhood, until you either die or fade away, your achievements, to your misdeeds, it is all analysed like a science experiment. Privacy is non-existent. Your personal life is no longer yours, it belongs to the public from the second you step out of the shadows and into the bright lights of the stage. Money no longer has any meaning, neither does trust. Your friends become your enemies and your enemies become your friends. Your past is more important than your future, and the future isn’t certain. Everything you dreamed of having, no matter how tainted it is, could be taken from you in less time than it takes to blink. Fame is fleeting, but the issues it leaves behind are not."

Jimmy Lee, Lead Singer of Wylder.

---

I hit stop

and sit back in my seat. The third song on my second album is finally just the way I like it. It might have taken over a year to do it, but I think it’s worth it. It will be my last release. A career-ending song.

Oh, man! That sounded amazing! A girl, whose name I can’t remember, claps her hands together while her dress rides up, revealing barely-there panties. I look away and pick up a folder with proposed images for the album’s cover.

Yeah, like, totally great! Another says from my best friend’s lap. I’d known Demon since we were kids living on the outskirts of London. We grew up poor, but you wouldn’t think it by the number of diamonds and gold around his neck. The two girls draped over him pick up the heavy chains and rub them against their over tanned skin. Demon watches on with wide eyes.

Yeah, man, great track. He mumbles as the blonde thrusts her huge boobs in his face. The brunette narrows her eyes and rubs herself against Demon’s crotch.

Ok, I throw the folder down and rise from my seat, time to get going. Pushing my way past the girls waiting for me, I deflect their grabby hands and head outside. The fresh air feels good. Not only does the studio get uncomfortably hot, but with all the extra bodies in there, it can feel like a desert.

What was that about? Demon throws open the door and bumps my shoulder with his. I was on a promise with those two.

Go back and take them home, mate, dragging my phone from my pocket, I check the time.

Nah, can’t. We’ve got that meeting with Stella in an hour.

"Shit!

What?

Stella moved the meeting up, I drop from the steps onto the curb and pull out my keys, we’ve got to be there in fifteen. Pressing the button to open my overly expensive car, I hop in and wait for Demon to get in the other side. It’s stupid, really, having a sports car when you’re over six feet tall. It’s kinda expected that I drive something flashy, being who I am and all.

A bunch of half-dressed girls fall over each other as they pile out of the studio door and wave frantically at us. These girls get crazier by the second, I say as Demon sits beside me and buckles up, that one is only wearing panties and a bra. Said girl trots over to the car in heels that could sever a dick if she stood on it and bends by my window. Her augmented breasts almost slip free from a red, lacy bra.

They’re just trying to get a taste of Jimmy Lee, man. Starting the car, I wave at her and signal to pull out of the spot. You used to revel in this shit. Man, what’s up with you?

That feels like a million-dollar question.

What is wrong with me?

Two years ago, I would have taken a couple of these girls home with me. Heck, six months ago, I wouldn’t even ask their names. I’d fuck them, then tell them to leave. I wouldn’t even feel guilty for using them. But as I pull out into the road and head to Stella’s office, I can’t help but feel like my party days are over.

.

---

I pick

up the cup of coffee and very carefully walk back to my table. Angie’s watching me with her lips pulled in a tight line to stop herself laughing but not blinking in case I trip and throw coffee around the place. I don’t trip, and manage to get it on the table without so much as scolding my hand with the spillover.

That was quite the achievement, she snickers when I sit on the chair and my bag drops from my arm, crashes to the floor, sending the contracts spilling out. Luckily, there’s only my cell, purse and a packet of tissues in there. I scoop them up and ram them back inside.

Haha, hilarious. I roll my eyes and sip my drink while looking around to make sure no one was watching.

That’s me. A million laughs a minute. She deadpans. Her phone pings a second later and she snaps it off the table so fast, she almost drops it in her hot chocolate. Oh, my God! she all but screams. Guess who just confirmed a concert right here in London? I hide behind the mug and sneak a look around. Everyone is staring at her like she just sprouted tentacles and started flopping around.

Uh, I don’t know. Was it ‘Keepyourvoicedown McGee?’ I widen my eyes and dart them around to indicate all the strangers giving us dirty looks. She shrugs; not caring.

No! It’s Jimmy Lee!

Who? I ask while smiling apologetically at the woman sitting next to the window. Her baby cries out, almost rendering me deaf, as the mother all but snarls at Angie.

Tell me you’re joking, Flick? Please, she waves her phone in the air, you must be pulling my G-string right now?

You gotta know who Jimmy Lee is, Felicity, Andy, the barista says as he sweeps the floor next to us, he’s only the most famous rapper of all time.

Oh, I push my hair behind my ear, I don’t listen to rap, I confess.

It’s more than just rap, Flick, he’s - he’s like -

Dreamy? Andy finishes for her.

Yes! Dreamy. His group, Wylder, is the shit right now! Angie swoons dramatically. He’s so hot, like, melt your panties off, hot.

Ooh, they’re new. Maybe that’s why I haven’t heard of them. I have been busy at the store. I shrug and finish my drink.

No, Angie gasps, they’re not new! Oh my God. They’ve been around forever! They’ve won more music awards than any other group since the eighties!

Jimmy even has a room in his mansion just for trophies, Andy adds as he leans against his broom. Man, that guy is sex on legs and he knows it.

Angie furiously types on her phone and then thrusts it in my face. I blink and lean back.

This is Jimmy. She says in a breathy voice. Isn’t he lush?

.

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My relationship with drugs started at a young age. My mother would crush Ambien into my milk and feed it to me before bedtime. She couldn’t cope with a baby crying at night. Working three jobs took it out of her. She needed her rest and I needed to be quiet. Drugs have always been a way to get what I needed. Taking drugs makes me forget, and that’s what I need. It’s what I’ll always need.

Jimmy Lee, Lead Singer of Wylder.

---

"Do

we really need to add London? My boy will be dead beat by then." Demon points his finger at my manager, Stella. The woman might be in her fifties, but she could kick his ass. She stands from her seat and lights a cigarette.

Yes. We must. You boys were born there. It’s all about giving back to the community that raised you.

All that community gave your boy was heartache and a drug addiction. Demon bites back, his anger bubbling under the surface.

Yes, I understand that, Stella pats my shoulder as she shuffles to the window. But it’s done. The announcement went out at noon.

My back hits the chair, and all air rushes out of my lungs.

London.

I moved to LA six months after my divorce from my first wife. Emma, my second wife, ran away with my dad just a month after our wedding. I haven’t spoken to either of them since. Rumour has it they now live in Spain. I’d happily let those memories go. But it’s my first wife, Lana, that worries me about going back to London.

We met when we were only nineteen. We were just kids who had no business getting as serious as we did. Within two months, Lana fell pregnant. My career wasn’t going anywhere, the odd jobs I had only just paid for a tiny one bedroomed flat that didn’t even have central heating. We couldn’t afford a kid. We were constantly arguing.