Rocking Her Heart

By: Melanie Shawn


“Valentine Frontman Jet Valentine in Seclusion as Band Disintegrates Mid-Tour”

Oh, my dear readers, do I have a scoop for you. You follow me for all the breaking drama in the world of movies, television, and music and the tidbit I have for you today is exactly that: DRAMA.

Yes, that’s right. It’s a sad, sad day for fans of mega-successful rock group Valentine, ladies and gentlemen. Rumor has it that lead singer and founder Jet Valentine has been kicked out of his own band!

Multiple sources have confirmed that shows remaining on Valentine’s current tour are in the process of being cancelled. As for ticket holders? Well, apparently it’s too bad, so sad. Refunds should be on the way, but that leaves some very unhappy promoters and more than one little birdie has told me that legal action may well be forthcoming.

No word on the reason for the ouster, although Jet Valentine’s well-documented history of erratic behavior makes that particular mystery slightly less mysterious.

Just a little refresher, for those of you late to the saga: there was the time he stumbled around the stage through half of the opening song and vomited spectacularly all over the first row. Those poor concertgoers must’ve thought they were at Sea World, but with an even worse odor, if that’s possible.

The well-documented occasion when he climbed on the bar at Miami’s Club Caliente like he was starring in Coyote Ugly meets Magic Mike and stripped right down to his birthday suit, to the utter delight of thousands of club goers who captured every delicious second on their smartphones… and, of course, of every appreciator of the male form who watched the video later.

Then there was the time he punched A-Lister Kyle Austen Reed on the red carpet – at a fundraising event for Reed’s charity The Angel Network, no less! It was clear Valentine was no angel that night and was only lucky the Oscar-winning philanthropist declined to press charges.

And I would imagine those examples, and the many others made public, are merely the tip of the crazytown iceberg. The more I think about it, in fact, the most surprising thing about this story seems to be that his band actually kept him around for as long as they did!

As for the man at the eye of this storm? Well, no one seems to know where the bad boy of rock and roll has hidden away. His publicist put out a statement—don’t they always?—saying the rock reject would be taking some time for himself while he dealt with personal issues. Vague much?

So, tell me what you think, dear readers. I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

So many questions swirl around this situation. Is Jet in rehab? Will anyone want to see the band Valentine sans its namesake’s founder? Is this the beginning of an epic downward spiral for the disgraced former frontman, or will it be the wake-up call he needs to pull his train wreck of a life together?

And, of course, the burning question on everyone’s mind – WHERE IN THE WORLD IS JET VALENTINE?

Chapter 1


“Valentine Frontman Jet Valentine in Seclusion as Band Disintegrates Mid-Tour”


Jet snapped the magnetic cover of his iPad closed, wishing he could block out the words in the article as easily in his mind as he could on the screen.

One of the guys in the band must’ve talked to the press. There was no other way the story could’ve leaked. He didn’t know which of them it’d been, but that was only because he suspected all of them equally, not because he couldn’t believe it of any of them.

Jet’s publicist had put out the statement about him being unable to finish the tour because he was dealing with a personal problem. Keeping it vague, letting people speculate about what it might be. Bender. Rehab. Illness. None of those made him look great, but all of them made him look better than the truth.

He’d actually been kicked out of the band that he’d started. The band whose name was his damn surname! How was that possible?

Of course, technically, he hadn’t been kicked out. It was just that every other member had left. Simultaneously. So…same difference.

His whole life had blown up in front of his eyes the day before, when Angelo Daneti, the bassist, had called a band meeting.

Jet had stormed into it, loaded for bear. Who the hell was Angelo to call a band meeting? Was the band called Daneti? Fuck, no. It was called Valentine, and that was going to be the first thing he said.

As it happened, he didn’t have a chance. They walked in, accompanied by their manager Harry, and laid it all out, swift and sharp.

He’d been acting more and more like a prick for the past few years and even though people had tried to talk to him, it had only gotten worse. He’d missed shows with no notice. He’d wrecked hotel rooms and green rooms. His behavior was costing them close to what they were making some months, and leaving them open for legal action in others.

And they were done. End of story. No discussion.

Then they’d walked out. Walked. Fucking. Out.

He’d been seeing red, so livid he couldn’t even think straight. He kicked a couple of chairs and overturned a table.

How dare those assholes walk out on me? On me, of all people! I’m the fucking star! I’m the lead singer. It’s my goddamn band; just look at the name!