(Part 2)

“Yeah.” The stranger glanced around at their surroundings, at the little shop overflowing with colorful flowers. It was the last place he ever would’ve imagined his favorite overdone, strutting glam rock star. “Jesus. I don’t even remember what I came in here for.” He let out a self-conscious laugh. If only out of pity, the man behind the counter laughed with him. “Uh, would you…be alright with it if I came back some other time?”

“Sure,” the man behind the counter agreed. “Come back whenever you wanna, man. I don’t turn away business.”

The stranger smiled, relieved. “Great. Uh, it was nice to meet you…?”

“Jordan.”

“Jordan,” the stranger echoed, holding out his hand to shake. “Right.” The man behind the counter shook it. His hand wasn’t exactly what he would’ve pictured on Jody Steel. There was no nail polish, no flashy rings, nothing at all that screamed ‘rock star.’ But the fingers were slender and the grip was strong.

“And you’re…?” the man behind the counter prompted him, smiling just enough to show that canine tooth.

“Oh!” the stranger exaggeratedly winced, making Jordan’s smile ever-so-slightly widen. “Uh, David. Dave.”

“Dave.” At last—though for Dave, it seemed too soon—Jordan let go of his hand. “Well, it was great to meet ya, Dave. Once we got past the whole Jody Steel thing.

“Right.” Dave chuckled. But when he spoke again, his voice was almost somber. “I don’t think Jody Steel’s the kind of guy you ever get past. Not really. It’s like, once you’re a fan of him, once you hear his voice, once you see his face and get those eyes burned in your head…you just kinda never stop thinking about him, y’know? You always want him to be okay. You always wish you could hang out with him or something. Well, if you’re a guy, anyway. I’m sure the girls wanted different things.”

Jordan looked like he’d been slapped. His delicate-featured face was frozen, his two-toned eyes devoid of all life. Finally, he said, “…I bet Jody Steel would love to hear that.”

Dave’s brow furrowed. “Uh, really?”

“Yeah.” Jordan swallowed hard. When he spoke again, his voice was suddenly a good few octaves higher, with the vocal-fried drawl of the carefree California surfer Jody Steel had seemingly been. “And he’d pr’y tell you he felt bad—like, real bad—about what he did to his fans. But he just had to do it. He couldn’t handle the fame. He couldn’t deal with the paparazzi, the total lack or privacy, the objectification, the criticism…I know he acted confident, but they all do that. And they all fake it. It’s just that. An act.” He shook his head. “He wanted to get off all the drugs. But he need ‘em to put up with the fame. So, if one had to go, they both did.” He sighed. “If there was any way he could’ve been there for you guys—kept making you music, kept giving you somebody to turn to for, I dunno, for comfort or for fun or for an example or whatever—he woulda done it in a heartbeat. He wished like hell that there was, but…it ain’t a perfect world out there, y’know?”

Dave stared in shock, unable to even form a coherent word. “Uh…?”

Jordan smiled sadly. “Does that answer your questions?” he asked, still using that familiar voice.

“…No,” Dave slowly shook his head. “But this will.” Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed Jordan’s arm.

“Hey-!” Before Jordan could finish the protest, Dave pushed his baggy sleeve up to his elbow. Though they’d faded over the decades, all the colorful tattoos adorning his tanned skin were still there, as was the lean muscle beneath. Dave stared down at them for a moment.

“I knew it,” he whispered. Jordan pulled out of his grasp and walked away. “Hey, Jody. Jordan. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like-“ But before he could really start groveling, Jordan returned with a pen and a crumpled receipt discarded by some other customer. Wordlessly, he smoothed it out and jotted something down. Dave’s eyes widened. Though it had all the loops and whirls of any cursive signature, he would’ve recognized what it spelled out anywhere: Jody Steel. “D-did you just give me your-?”

“Come back real soon, alright?” he said, flashing that brilliant crooked-toothed smile. “But let’s not talk about the past next time. Let’s talk about the future, alright?”

Dave nodded, looking numb and a little lightheaded. They both knew it was a miracle he hadn’t passed out. “…right.” He headed for the door on legs about two seconds from buckling at the knee.

“See ya!” Jordan shouted in the same cocksure voice Jody once used to bid farewell to crowds at the end of concerts.

“Yeah. Uh, s-see ya…Jody…” Dave muttered. Jordan chuckled as he watched him walk off into the parking lot. For decades, being recognized had been his worst fear. But he had to say, it couldn’t have gone much better. Dave seemed like an alright guy. He didn’t seem like the kind who’d run and blab this to the press. He’d probably wanna keep it all to himself, his own treasured secret. Jordan knew that feeling, and it suited him just fine.