Star Struck(BBW Rocker Romance)(21)

“You know, Mandy, I’ve always been either really happy or really sad. I never actually knew how to strike a balance. For a while I thought that money and fame would be the answer to my problems. Didn’t take long to figure out that I was wrong about that.”

Mandy looked down to find Ethan’s fingers fluttering up and over her bare arm. “If I told you all about my dark, twisted side, what would you do? Would you turn away, hate me?”

“No one’s perfect, Ethan,” Mandy whispered, mesmerized by the glimmer of heat in those lost-boy blue eyes of his.

“I want to show you something,” he said suddenly, and he came around from behind the bar to take her hand and lead her back up the stairs. They walked through a section of the house she hadn’t seen before and then past corridor after corridor to a back room. Mandy’s breath hitched as Ethan’s hand fell on the doorknob. He saw the look on her face and smiled a little.

“Nothing too sinister, I promise,” he teased before his smile disappeared and he cupped her face. “I want you to see it. I don’t know why, but I want to share this part of me with you. Because I know you won’t judge me. You might even understand.”

Mandy wasn’t really sure she wanted to see it herself, but Ethan’s eyes were too compelling. She knew now why his persona was so intriguing to his fans. Even when he didn’t say a word, he could still hold the crowd spellbound. Like what he was doing to her now.

He guided her through the door before he turned on the lights. Mandy hadn’t been sure of what to expect. She couldn’t imagine what was so important that he had to show her.

Mandy could remember hearing a few rumors about Ethan’s eccentric tastes thanks to his many kiss-and-tell exes. Now she had all sorts of wild thoughts running through her head while her heart began to pound in curiosity and excitement as her gaze fell on the interior of the room.

Oh.

Wow. Okay, Mandy thought. She’d half expected some kind of kinky sex chamber, but this was…well, nothing at all like that.

They’d entered the main room and at once she could feel that here was a place where he’d spend most of his time. Mandy felt him everywhere as she glanced around at the impressive interior that seemed to be some kind of studio stacked with programming equipment and very expensive guitars as well as keyboards, mixing boards, and computers. Basically everything one would expect to produce his kind of music.

But what really struck her were the paintings on the walls.

There had to be more than a couple dozen of them, with some even propped on the floor, against the wall. All varied in size and subject matter, but there was a recurring theme: edgy, untamed colors, dark and vibrant forms and shadowy, wanton passion in each stroke. So bold, so bad. And then she just knew.

“These are yours, aren’t they? You made these,” she said astutely and with awe.

He smiled at her, a flicker of pride mixed with uncertainty evident on his face.

“Yes. It’s my one secret passion. No one really knows I do this. Or that I can even really do this. It’s a part of me I’ve hidden; it doesn’t exactly go with my bad-boy, crazy rocker image. But in these paintings, that’s where I’m the really free to be me.”

Mandy bit her lip and looked away from his expression. She shifted her gaze back to the paintings. There was so much power in them, yet so much vulnerability. He had immense talent. She wasn’t sure whether these would be a commercial success, but to her, they were worth so much because of what they portrayed. In his art, Ethan let himself go. His mask was off and in each piece she saw an angle of himself she never would have imagined. One could tell without being told that a lot of angst, passion, and heart had gone into each piece. They would have actually seemed disturbing with their distorted, even maimed beauty, if not for the fact that Mandy was good at seeing beyond the surface. Whatever lurked beneath Ethan’s shell, it wasn’t evil or depraved. Or like he’d once described himself, ‘twisted’. She wished she could find a way to make him believe that.

“You must feel so blessed to be able to express your heart…your emotions, everything that you feel in your art – your paintings, your music,” she said somewhat enviously. Even though her work was much of an artistic area as well, she still understood and respected true talent and creativity when she saw it. “I can imagine it’s such a powerful way to release all of those feelings.”

“I don’t feel blessed sometimes,” he said with a shrug. “Sometimes I just wish I was normal. I’d wish I could say take away all of the money and all of the fame…and just have peace. Give me a new blank page. So that I can forget…”