I Used To Date A Rockstar

Guy here, Helly walks in all wound up, and right away I can tell the story has holes. She clams up, so of course that just makes me hungrier to find out what got her goat. I tell her to lay it on me, let it go, clear her head. She perks up when I promise my little tricks will loosen every nerve-end she owns. Pretty sure she missed the punchline, but she still climbed onto the table without an argument. Problem is, lying on her back only riled her up even more. Ten minutes later she blurts out her boy trouble, bawling about some fool named Johnny Black. So I toss the first juicy lie I can think of: ol' Johnny apparently tied the knot already. Helly loses it. Screams, flails, the whole show. Next thing you know she's in full 'payback mode,' yanking off her top and pitching me ideas. Camera rolls, lights on. This girl did not hold back. She hits those high notes, every curse word echoing off the walls, hips working like she's mad at gravity itself. All I can do is keep smiling behind the lens, wicked as a fox in the henhouse. I warned her, right? Fair's fair.