Short Stories by MissDagger

Just Some Butch - 1

Just Some Butch - a short story by MissDagger

Chapter One

Clark Harrison smiled at himself in the mirror, standing in his usual suit and tie. His teeth were a bright white that contrasted against his tanned skin and charming blue eyes. And as usual his brown hair was slicked back with hair gel, trying to conceal the fact he was beginning to lose some hair at the top of his head. Hard to believe he’d be losing hair at thirty. Losing your hair seemed like something that didn’t happen until you got old and it turned grey. For weeks he stood in this very window, in his dressing room, telling himself plenty of powerful men lost their hair and still looked fine. Donald Trump was a multimillionaire, and everyone knew he colored his hair and was losing it. Thankfully no one knew Clark was coloring his hair yet…

He reached up and smoothed a small bump at the very top. Clark had to make sure he looked his best every night; it was important for his career. Sure, he was no Donald Trump, but he was the host of a very popular late night TV show. Tonight he would be interviewing the mayor, talking about the president’s new plans of lowering taxes, and even interviewing some new pop artist. When he was told the artist requested being on his show he couldn’t help but smirk. People weren’t exactly begging to be on his show, but this person certainly was, and from what’s he’s heard this girl was very good at what she does. Already two of her singles have reached the top 100 List and her tour was sold out in nearly every venue she entered.

Clark raised a thick brow at his reflection, don’t worry, Harrison, you still got it. With that he pointed a finger to himself, admiring his charming smile, before turning and going to the door of his dressing room. He should probably go greet this artist before they went on set. They could joke around and maybe he could get a picture for publicity reasons. As soon as he opened the door, however, he was met with the large figure of the star’s body guard.

“Excuse me,” Clark cleared his throat, loudly announcing his presence.

“Sorry, sir, but Miss Liv is going to her dressing room now and she doesn’t want anyone seeing her before she’s in makeup. I’ll have to ask you to go back in your dressing room; just for a second, sir.” The large man nodded his head towards the dressing room he was trying to come out of.

Clark frowned, “But this is my set. I should be allowed to come out whenever I want.”

The man shook his head, “Sorry, sir, your producer said it was fine.”

The lines on Clark’s face increased as much as they could with the botox injected in his skin from a few days back. For a moment he wondered if he should continue to argue, but if his producer said he had to stay in his dressing room then he supposed he had to. Stubbornly he closed the door and continued to wait in his dressing room, wondering why divas had to be so difficult. She was probably thirteen like the rest of them; who cares if someone saw her without makeup? There was nothing different about this girl from what he could tell. Last night he had tried to familiarize himself with her music so they had something to talk about, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it once he heard her top single. It was some bubblegum song about heartbreak, like all the others.

Clark rolled his eyes at the closed door and saw on his sofa. These singers would be the end of him.

Olivia grinned at her body guard as she passed through the halls. He smiled back at her with a wink before returning to his blank, intimidating glare. She giggled like a little girl and followed her makeup artists to her dressing room in the back. The congressman got a nice room, his other guests got nicer rooms, and so she was left with the half-assed room in the back. When they opened the door they all gasped and took in the unpainted walls, the naked bulbs hanging from the ceiling, and the small table she was supposed to do her makeup with. It looked like the mirror on the wall was literally glued to the drywall.