Beautiful Chaos/A Jordan Knight FanFic/ Book One in the Beautiful series. ✔️

04

Dallas

"YOU DON'T WANT HIS AUTOGRAPH?" SANTOS chomps on a celery stick and glances over my shoulder to the other side of Grady's dining room. It's where I'm sure the whole vocal class, definitely the girls, cluster around Jordan Knight.

"You know I'm not an autograph kinda girl." I bypass the crackers and the bite-sized pastries that will be anything but bite-sized on my hips.

"But it's freaking Jordan Knight. You can't tell me you weren't impressed by that piece he played."

My fingers hover over a bruschetta. Nah. I'll eat a salad at The Note when I go in for my shift tonight.

"Yeah, it was impressive, of course."

And disruptive. And fantastic. And the best thing I've ever heard. As soon as he had looked away, releasing me from whatever musically induced trance I found myself in, I high-tailed it out of the music room and headed for the food set up in here.

"Then why is everyone else over there schmoozing the best musician we're ever likely to meet?" San waves his celery under my nose. "And we're the only putzes at the hors d'oeuvre table?"

"You know I don't do schmooze."

"You meet a guy who was playing on stages all over the world before his balls dropped, you break the no-schmooze rule."

This isn't actually about my no-schmooze rule. It's a different one. Life has taught me that you survive by your rules. When you don't follow the rules, you get hurt. Even worse, sometimes you hurt everyone else. My daddy taught me that when he ran off with the church secretary. So, yeah, I have rules. And this one I abide by religiously.

No rock stars.

I know it sounds weird from someone who wants to be a singer, but like all rules, this one has a reason. My last run-in with a big rock star in this town ... let's just say what I remember of that night would not make Mama proud. I was lucky to get out of that situation relatively unscathed, but I'm not tempting fate again. I put my dreams on hold for years when Mama got sick, and I'd do it again and again. To have those last few years with her, even as debilitated as she became, was everything to me. But now it's my time. It's why I packed up my few belongings and followed San out here to Los Angeles I can't afford to be distracted now.

And when Jordan Knight finished playing that piece and opened his eyes, he looked right at me, electrocuting every molecule in my body without even trying. He just opened his eyes, and something in me sizzled. Something started stirring in dark, quiet corners. I can't be sure he felt it too, but somehow, I think he did. I know it sounds ridiculous because he's one of the greatest musicians in the world and I'm, well, just me ... but I think he did.

And that would be distracting.

So while everyone else fawns over him, asks him for the secrets to his success, and probably offers to screw him in Grady's bathroom, I'm considering bruschetta. Because in the rock star category, he would be Grade-A rock star. He's not just some piano prodigy all grown up. Think Coldplay. Think Mumford and Sons. Think Tom Odell.

Think Jordan Knight.

Santos is looking at me strangely because I have been quiet for ... how long? Lost in thought over Jordan Knight. Oh, this won't do. Already distracted.

"You're welcome to go over there," I say. "I'm gonna eat."

"Only you aren't actually eating anything. You'll just consider food for the next few minutes and then give up. You haven't fully regained your appetite since ..."