A Song for Lucy: A Rock Star BBW Romance Short by Clare Cole Page A

our house. Danny and Lucas had converted what would have been the garage into a small but amazing studio space several months ago, the rear wall accessible from the conveniently-placed (for those guys, anyway) kitchen. I edged forward and listened intently as Danny gently sang lyrics I hadn't heard before.
    “A simple life is all I really longed for...please come back, please come back and sing for me...”
    I peered around the corner to see him, eyes closed, looking as gorgeous as ever in a tight grey top and worn jeans. Damn him yet again.
    “A simple life is all I ever wanted...take me back, take me back on bended knee...back on bended knee...”
    He opened his eyes and smiled. “Sorry,” I stammered. “I didn't mean to disturb you.”
    “That's okay.” He jotted some words into a notepad and set his guitar down. “I'm having a bad case of writer's block, anyway.”
    “Didn't sound like it. That song was lovely.”
    He laughed. “Thanks. It's nowhere near finished, though.”
    “What's it called?”
    “ A Simple Life . I might keep it for myself and the inevitable solo project. I don't know if it'll really fit with the band anyway. How are things with you? I haven't seen you for a while.”
    I tried to act cool, all fingers and thumbs around the unrequited childhood sweetheart I simultaneously loved and pretended to loathe. “Yeah, good. I'm just working on my new album.”
    “Really?” he gasped, raising his eyebrows. “Wow. I knew your single had done well. But the label greenlit an album?”
    “ Er...no. But I'm writing it anyway. They want another hit first.” I sat on the leather sofa opposite him and thumbed through a skateboarding magazine Lucas had left lying around.
    “So you score a top 10 hit...”
    “Top 30.”
    “Right...a top 3 0 hit and they aren't willing to fund an album yet?”
    “They want me to prove I'm not a one-hit wonder.”
    “How many Facebook friends have you got?”
    I thought for a moment. “About 20,000, I think.”
    “YouTube views for your video?”
    “Uh...over 100,000. Something like that.”
    Danny stood up. “Fuck them! You don't need a stinking record company taking a year to pay you and taking a cut of everything! You've got enough fans to generate a hit on your own.”
    “I...I wouldn't know where to start. How would I even promote myself?”
    “Are you kidding?” Danny paced around the room. “You're terrific, Lucy. You have an awesome voice, you look cool, you're gorgeous...”
    He stopped in his tracks and looked at me awkwardly. I felt butterflies dance around my insides. We both looked to the floor.
    “Anyway...what I mean is...you'd do great, Lucy. Just great.”
    I looked up and smiled slightly. “Thanks.”
    He strummed his guitar. “Lucas said you’re doing a photoshoot for Spin Magazine tomorrow. That's cool.”
    “Yeah,” I sighed. “I'm kind of dreading it though. My manager's told me it'll be airbrushed to hell. He says I need to lose some weight.”
    “What? Are you freaking kidding me?” Danny stared at me, slack-jawed. “You see what I mean? Screw these idiots! You're not big, you're sexy!”
    I caught my breath for a second. “You...you really think that?”
    He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he nodded. “I damn well do. Is anyone with a pair of boobs considered big in this industry now? Who's next? Katy Perry? Beyonce?”
    “I'm not quite Katy Perry or Beyonce,” I laughed.
    “No,” he replied, deadpan. He stared straight into my eyes. “You knock them out of the park.”
    "Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked. Was it ridiculous that I still expected Danny to treat me like he did when we were kids? Was it so stupid of me to not let my guard down a little more?
    "What would you prefer? That I treated you like an asshole?"
    "You are an asshole," I grinned.
    He flashed a cheeky smile back at me. "Don't believe everything you read, Lucy. My shortcomings are some of my best qualities. Anyway, how’s your follow-up song