Rebel Rockstar by Marci Fawn

me insane.
    “You’ll do fine.” He places a reassuring hand on my back. “You already know you’re awesome, and you always put on a good show.”
    How the hell does he know that? A part of my brain wonders when Nate has seen me perform, but that’s not the most pressing issue here—I’ll have to deal with that later.
    “I’m okay with singing my songs. That isn’t the problem. It’s this new image that’s freaking me out. I have no idea how to be sexy! I don’t even know where to begin. Every outfit they give me makes me feel uncomfortable, and I’m really not interested in seductive dancing or flashing anything.” I can barely breathe. “How the hell am I going to play this one? How am I going to achieve the impossible?”
    “You’ve always been sexy to me,” he purrs, nestling into my neck, but his words aren’t making me feel any better. He doesn’t seem to get it. He might find me attractive, but that’s being myself. Acting slutty is so far out of my comfort zone that I can’t even see it on the horizon. “Plus, don’t forget—I had to do my show in a white freaking shirt. I had to really behave up there onstage, and it worked out great for me. In fact, it was the best concert I’ve ever done. I’m happy to keep up this new image now.”
    “Yeah, that’s true,” I murmur, wishing I’d gone to see him perform. I’d stubbornly refused to do so, and now I massively regret it. Everyone has been telling me how well he did, and I really wish I’d been there to support him, to see him up there with my own eyes. I’d love to hear his music. I can’t believe I haven’t yet. “I just…I’m not the typical sexy girl. I like my country-western good girl image. I don’t know how to perform like other starlets—the ones that really know how to work their bodies.” I want to cry, to weep, to curl up in the fetal position and give up now, before I completely humiliate myself in front of the world. There’s no way that this is going to go well, and when it backfires and produces some terrible reviews, I could end up losing everything. It’s so easy to get dropped by a management team and a record label these days. There’s always someone there ready and willing to take your place. Someone younger, and hotter, and willing to do the things you aren’t…
    “So combine them both,” Nate states, as if it’s simple. “Give Kim what she wants. Wear the clothes she gives you, and move a little more seductively up onstage…but stick to being you, too. Just because you’re twenty-one years old now doesn’t mean you have to become sluttier. Think of it as being more grown up. More mature. Appealing to an older audience. Remember, as you’re growing up, your fans are too. They want a more grown-up Jemima Rockwell.”
    “Okay.” I think it through and nod to myself. “Grown up. Mature. I can do that.” I try to sound far more confident than I feel. I don’t want Nate to know how badly I’m losing it inside.
    “Now, while we have a few more moments…” There’s a new tone to Nate’s voice, one that’s distracting me. I could really use the distraction, so I allow his lips to meet mine, and I let myself enjoy his body and his touch all over again. It’s only teasing—there’s definitely not enough time to go all the way before my meeting—but it’s a lot of fun just the same…

    * * *
    “ S o ,” Kim barks at me, making me feel about two feet tall. “This is the night for you to prove yourself. You need to be fun. You need to be sexy. You need to show that there’s a brand new Jem up onstage. The world needs to understand that you’ve grown, okay?”
    “Okay,” I reply nervously, feeling lees and less confident about Nate’s suggestion with each second that ticks past. “I will.” I’m just not sure that I’ll be able to give everyone what they want and keep myself happy too.
    “Here is your set list.” She hands me a piece of paper and I act like I’m reading