A Healing Love
Copyright© 2025 by Marc Nobbs
Chapter 16: Rock Chick
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 16: Rock Chick - Paul Robertson's journey continues as his past and present collide at a star-studded movie premiere, where a connection that once terrified him reignites with passion that threatens to consume them both. Fighting to forge a new future for himself and stop drifting, Paul must finally become the man he’s always been afraid to be. A beautiful, bittersweet exploration of grief, social responsibility, the healing power of love, and learning that sometimes loving someone means letting them go.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction
Glenn had rented a car for his road trip around the country with his other clients, so he said he’d take Carly back to Chloë’s house while I agreed to take Lana back to campus. He pulled me aside in the car park before we all left.
“Paul, I’m flying back home tomorrow with my other clients, and I’m not planning on coming back until Carly is ready to leave. I think I’m safe to do that. She’s got good people around her. Including you. You’re a good person, I can see that now.” He paused. “I get what Carly sees in you. Why you had such an impact on her the first time around.”
I nodded but didn’t answer. What do you say to something like that?
“So,” he continued, “I want you to take care of her, please. You’ve got my contact details, so if there is anything you think I need to know, then don’t hesitate.”
I nodded. “No worries. But I’m sure everything will be fine.”
“Here’s hoping.” He took a deep breath, then smiled. “One other thing before I go. Something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now, and this might be my last chance.”
I raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond.
“Look, Paul, I hear a rumour that you are a young man of, shall we say, considerable financial means. Is that true?”
I kept my face expressionless. How did he know that? Where had he heard it from? Who had he heard it from? “Why are you asking?”
“Well, I know a few folks back in Nashville who are always on the lookout for investors in various projects. Nothing too extravagant—tens of thousands of dollars rather than millions. And the projects are almost always low-risk investments. Financing a tour for a share of the ticket sales or putting up the money to get an album made for a share of the sales. That sort of thing. So, if you’re interested, I could send a few projects your way for you to look at. If you’re interested.”
I shrugged. “Okay, send me the details of your next one and I’ll look at it.”
“Excellent. I already have one in mind. In fact, she’s right over there.”
I looked at where he was pointing and frowned. “Carly?”
He nodded. “You could invest in this album, for example. Because what she’s doing is a risk, the label is looking for someone to invest and spread that risk. Her last two albums both went gold—that’s sales of over half a million copies, which is over five million dollars total revenue. If this one does as well, then, for a small investment, you could take a cut of that.”
“How small an investment and how large a cut?”
“I’d have to speak to the label, obviously, but the longer it takes her to make the album, the more it will cost to produce. For example, this place costs over a hundred British pounds an hour to rent. I nearly said dollars there, I’m still getting used to the currency change. But we’ve negotiated a rate of seven hundred and fifty per day. That gives the exclusive use of the larger of the two studios for as long as we need it. It’s a great deal for us and the studio, but we’re already on day nine. Things could get very expensive very quickly.”
I did a quick calculation in my head. “That’s nearly seven grand already, isn’t it?”
Glenn nodded. “And the label is already getting twitchy because she hasn’t really produced anything yet. They’re going to start putting pressure on her soon to make some progress. Don’t forget, we need to add in Harry and Ellie’s fees as well—they’re getting writing and producing credit, so they will be due some royalties, but they are charging an upfront fee too. Even if they are somehow able to turn things around and complete the work by the end of this month, it could still cost anything from thirty-five to fifty thousand, even before we talk about marketing costs, manufacturing and the rest.” He shrugged. “But I honestly don’t think she’ll get it done by the end of this month. Not even close.”
I nodded. “Okay. So, if I covered, say, half of those production costs, what cut would that get me?”
“Like I said, I’d need to talk to the label. Now, don’t forget that from a ten-dollar CD sale, nearly half of that goes to manufacturing, shipping, storage and the store’s profit. What comes back to the label to distribute is, maybe, five or six dollars. Downloads and streaming revenue is different, of course. For covering half the recording costs, you might get as high as twenty-five percent or as low as ten. Depends on how good you are at negotiating.”
I did another quick calculation. “So ... If this one went gold like the other two, and I’m getting ... between thirty and seventy-five cents per sale, then I’m looking at between two hundred and fifty thousand and seven hundred thousand dollars. For maybe a twenty-five thousand pound investment. Sounds like a good deal, but I need to talk to my advisors first.”
Glenn nodded. “I understand, of course. That’s very sensible. So, drop me a message next week if you’re interested. Tell me how much you’d be willing to invest, and I’ll take it to the label for you. For a five percent fee to act on your behalf, of course.”
“Five percent of my investment or five percent of my profits?”
He grinned. “Revenue, obviously. But you still walk away with a nice profit.”
“If the album sells well.”
“Better make sure she’s inspired to make it a good album, then.” He held out his hand for me to shake.
“I’ll try my best,” I replied, taking his hand.
As I got in the car with Alannah to drive back to campus, a stray thought crossed my mind—Was I now a music mogul?
“Are you coming tonight?” I asked Alannah once we were back on the dual carriageway and heading for campus.
“To Porky’s? You’re joking, right?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s like you’re part of the band now, right?”
“Hardly.”
“Yeah, well, they are celebrating recording the track and you’re on the track, so...” I shrugged.
She was wearing that ‘knowing’ smile of hers—not quite a smirk, but certainly halfway there. A slight upturn of her lips at the edges and a ‘look’ in her eye that suggested she knew something you didn’t.
I’d seen it lots of times now—usually when I’d said something stupid but hadn’t realised it was stupid.
“I might be on the track. Harry said they were going to do a version with and a version without, so it’s just as likely I won’t be. But even if I am, that doesn’t make me part of the band.”
“Oh, come on. It’ll be a laugh. On me, right? Why not?”
She shook her head. “Well, for one, Porky’s is an absolute dump. It’s dark and dingy and damp, and the toilets stink, and the carpet is sticky—God knows what’s been spilt on it to make it so sticky.”
“Mostly beer, I would guess.”
“Yeah, well, it’s the ‘mostly’ part of that sentence that worries me. Seriously, I’ve been there twice now and hated it both times. I just ... I don’t feel safe there, you know? It feels like a fight might break out at any moment in there.”
I nodded. “Okay. I get that. I don’t feel the same way, but I get it. So, I won’t push it. But...”
“But what?” Her tone sounded ... off. Harsh. Defensive, almost. It wasn’t quite like it had been back in September when she hated me—okay, maybe ‘hated’ is a strong word, but she definitely wasn’t my biggest fan—but she didn’t sound like she had the last couple of weeks. Ever since she’d stormed into my kitchen to tell me where to stick my ‘charity’ and she’d subsequently found out about our plans for the Scholarship, she’d been a far more pleasant person—friendly, open and warm.
But now...
I was probably reading too much into it, like I always did.
“Well, the way you started with ‘one’ made me think you had at least a second reason. What was it? I mean, your first reason is enough, I get it, if you’re not comfortable there, I’m not going to talk you into going, but what was the second reason?”
Now she shrugged. “I’d have thought it was obvious. I don’t know anyone else going apart from you. And you’re going to be with your girlfriend, who is really nice by the way, but I just don’t feel like being a third wheel.”
“You wouldn’t be.”
“Don’t be silly, of course I would.” She paused. “Thank you for asking me, though. It was nice of you.”
I nodded. “Maybe next time. If Carly likes the track and they go that way with the whole album, they might ask you to play on some more tracks.”
“Oh, I doubt it. Too much hassle. It would be easier just to hire a professional. Harry was just being nice when he praised me.”
“I don’t think he was, you know. I think you are really that good.”
We were back on campus now, so I parked outside Campus Heights and helped Lana get her cello out of the car, even carrying it to the lift in the foyer for her. It was heavier than I expected.
After dropping Lana off, I went home to shower and change clothes. Glenn dropped Carly off at my house after she’d done the same at Chloë’s, and then he headed back to London to meet up with his other clients for the flight back to Nashville.
“Hi,” I said to Carly as I opened the door. “You look beautiful, as always.”
She blushed. Then she held up the large holdall she was carrying in both hands. “Anywhere I can put this?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I hope you don’t mind, but since you are free for the weekend, I thought I could, maybe, if you don’t mind, stay here?”
I grinned and reached to take the bag from her. “I’ll put this in my room, shall I?”
She grinned back and nodded.
After depositing her bag in my room, we walked into town to meet the band at Porky’s. Walking rather than taking the car meant I wouldn’t have to drink Coke all night, which is always preferable in my book.
We started the walk into town holding hands. Then Carly moved to take my arm, which drew her closer to me. Then I slipped my arm around her waist, she wrapped both arms around me, and I held her close as we walked.
Carly usually dressed in what I’d call a typical ‘Country Girl’ style. She liked tight blue jeans or denim skirts—both short and long—and paired them with either stylish blouses, usually white, or a plaid shirt worn over a white t-shirt.
And cowboy boots. She always wore cowboy boots. I’d seen at least three different pairs, all brown, two of them ankle boots and one pair that went all the way up her leg to just below her knee—she only ever wore that pair with a short denim skirt.
But this evening, she was dressed more like what I’d call a ‘Rock Chick.’ She still wore tight jeans, but they were black, not blue. She also wore a black T-shirt with the name and logo of some band I didn’t recognise on it. And instead of her cowboy boots, she was wearing black work boots with bright yellow laces.
She was also wearing a very nice leather jacket.
“I love your jacket,” I said as we headed into the chilly night air.
She grinned. “Thanks. It’s one of my favourites.”
“I might have to get one myself.”
“You should. I think you’d look amazing in leather.”
I understood why she was dressed this way when we got to Porky’s—she must have been talking to Roxie. Turns out the band, whose name I now knew was ‘Blackfriars’ Nightmare’, was a rock band first and foremost, but they were talented enough to play any type of music for the right fee, which is why they played at ‘Boots ‘n’ Bourbon’ nights. But their first love was rock. They’d even written a few rock tracks of their own.
Being a rock band was convenient because Thursdays at Porky’s was ‘Rock Night,’ which I didn’t know. After all, I’d never been to the club on a Thursday—or any other weeknight for that matter. We only ever went on a Saturday and then only if we’d been to The Union on the Friday instead of Central Pier.
The people in Porky’s this Thursday were older than when my friends and I usually went. On Saturdays, it was packed with students from the university or the local Sixth Form college (or even from local schools). But the crowd here now ranged from probably late twenties to mid-thirties. Maybe even older. And they were almost all dressed in a similar way to Carly—jeans and band t-shirts. I felt completely out of place in my black cotton button-down shirt.
Carly and I stood in the front row right by the stage while Blackfriars’ Nightmare rocked their way through some classic covers from the noughties, nineties and even as far back as the eighties.
After about half an hour, Roxie addressed the audience.
“Thank you, guys. Thank you. You’re amazing.” She turned to address her bandmates. “What a crowd, right?”
“Great crowd!” Sarah said into her microphone.
Ronnie put his right hand in the air and yelled, “What up, Westmouth!”
The audience cheered right back at him.
“Okay,” Roxie said, “Right now, I’d like to invite someone very special up on stage to do a few numbers with us. We’ve been working with her all week; she’s all the way from Nashville, Tennessee, if you can believe that. She’s a Country Girl at heart, but tonight, she’s going to show us how she rocks!
“Welcome to the stage...” She pointed down to where Carly and I stood. “Kayla Valentine!”
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