Listen With Your Heart
Page 2
“Guess who I just met?”
“I don’t know.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just guess.”
“Uh, God?”
“Fine, don't take it serious. It’s only the best thing ever.” She collapsed back on my couch like she was a southern belle and it was made just for fainting.
“Just tell me Bun.” Her real name wasn’t Bunny but it was the only thing I’d ever known her by since we met in group therapy six years ago. She’d let it slip once when she was drunk that part of her name was Petunia. Apparently, the whole name was something awful and in the professional world of managing pop stars, her real name would put her at a huge disadvantage. Bunny however was fine apparently.
“Lane Daughtry! Isn’t that exciting?”
“Oh.” That guy. “Did you finally get the meeting?”
I couldn’t tell what she was saying exactly but she was definitely avoiding answering my question directly. I caught the words, “shoved”, “security”, and “escape” and pretty much got the picture.
“I’m more excited that I didn’t have to get you out of jail,” I interrupted her.
She muttered something, probably sarcastic to the side. She turned to face me again. “Anyway, I gave him my business card.”
“Is that how it works in the music world?” I asked. “You just give out your number and hope for the best?”
“Sort of.”
I didn’t really believe her. “I hope it works out for you.”
“You’re the one who gave me the idea,” she said almost too quickly for me to catch.
“I’m the last person to get pop music advice from.”
She frowned. “You don’t remember?”
“No?” I went completely deaf three years ago. This Lane guy got famous after that. I lost interest in music for a long time after. I was too bitter to realize that I was only punishing myself. I only recently discovered ways for me to enjoy it again. But at the same time, I had no idea what hearing audiences would be into these days.
“I guess it doesn’t matter.” She waved her hand from side to side like she was clearing the air.
I guess it was too much to ask for her to explain what that meant to me.
She turned and headed toward my kitchen apparently following the burning smell I was also now smelling. I cringed as I realized the mess I’d left behind. Once I caught up to her, she gave me a withering look.
She slowly signed the phrase, “New hobby?”
I tried to smile but it probably looked too toothy and crooked. “I’m trying okay?”
“Maybe come back to baking,” she said, turning the oven off, and took the chocolate chip soup beginning to caramelize sitting on the cookie sheet and put it on my stove top to cool.
“I could have gotten it,” I muttered.
“Talk to me Nate.” Bunny took my hands in hers like she loved to do with all her closest friends. She told me once that you could feel people’s hearts through the veins in their hands or...something like that.
“I’m bored Bunny. And everything I do is boring.”
“You should try theater next. Why? You’re dramatic.”
“It’s true. I feel useless.”
“I know you miss your old job but you have so much time to figure something out.” I could tell from her smile that she was trying to cheer me up and scold me at the same time.
Before I went deaf, I worked as a bouncer for several bars in downtown Seattle. I’m pretty tall, very muscular, and used to have my hair buzzed short though now I let it go a little more before shaving it again. I cut an intimidating figure with my icy blue eyes and pale skin in the flashing lights of whatever nightclub I was working that night. It was a little dangerous and I got into a fight or two in my time, but I loved it. Of course, when I lost my hearing the owners who used to hire me just stopped. They thought I suddenly couldn’t do my job anymore. I found sporadic work from then on before I started receiving disability payments. But as helpful as it was, it left me feeling useless. Bunny suggested finding a new hobby. I used to and still did work out fairly often but I couldn’t go to the gym for twenty-four hours straight. I needed more to do. I always liked feeling busy before. Now, I felt...useless.
“You’re thinking negative thoughts about yourself,” Bunny said while rubbing her thumb into the palm of my hand.
“Did my heart tell you that?”
“No. I just can tell. You do it too much.”
“I promise I wasn’t,” I lied. “I’m trying not to feel discouraged.”
She looked like she was thinking something over and shifted back and forth from foot to foot. “Are you still meeting that guy next Saturday?”
I groaned. I had been hoping to find someone to move into the other room in my apartment. My last roommate moved out a year ago and before that I had a rotating cast of sub-letters with various positives and negatives to living with them. I could look for a one-bedroom place but I liked my apartment and it was already set up with all of my aids. I didn’t remember finding a roommate being so hard in the past. “No,” I admitted. “He cancelled. Found a better place already.”
There was a creeping edge to the smile on her face. “Then you’re free.”
“I’m always free Bun.”
“Then I would like to hire you next weekend as my bodyguard or personal bouncer.”
“Do you need me to protect you from someone?” I asked, eyebrows raising.
“Just a thousand screaming fans of all ages, sizes, and genders.”
“Don’t tell me.”
“I’ve planned another meeting with Mr. Daughtry.”
“And by planned you mean…?”
“His record label announced he was taking a vacation but I know for a fact that he’ll be at a restaurant in town having a fancy brunch with a reporter Saturday.”
“How do you know that? Was it supposed to be secret?”
“It was leaked to some fan blogs.”
“That’s bad?”
“Oh, you don’t understand; the record label leaked it. They want fans to show up.”
I blinked. “Why?”
“They’ll be leaking where he is for his whole vacation. They want to keep him relevant.”
“Sounds like a shitty vacation,” I added.
Something flashed in Bunny’s eyes. I suddenly felt like I was being scrutinized. What did I do that made her want this Lane guy so bad?
“So?” She blinked up at me like a cartoon, trying to seem as innocent in her request as possible.
“Yeah.” I rubbed a hand through my scruffy beard. I used to shave it but I’d been letting it go. I’d been letting a lot of things go. “I’ll protect you from his fans. Although he should be hiring me to keep you from him.”
“I knew you’d see things my way.” She quickly signed “I love you” and did a spin in celebration.
“But I’m not going to let you pay me. And I also won’t break the law.”
She pouted. “Can we do one if I promise not to do the other?”
“You are not in the position to bargain with me.”
“Fine. If you won’t help me with my meeting, at the very least if the crowd is too thick, I can ride on your shoulders.”
After that she helped me clean up my cookie mess. We ordered take out and ate it while she drew out the street view of the restaurant where we’d be stalking the pop star. She seemed really committed. The record label she co-founded really let her do whatever she wanted. She one time flew to Italy with one day’s notice to chase after someone for Crabapple Records. She always got who she wanted.
But, as we ate, I did my own research on this Lane Daughtry. Honestly, he seemed like a piece of work. He had a long history of being plain rude to everyone he worked with and refused to sign anything for his fans. He’d turned teens who considered him their hero away without even sparing them a glance. He was also already mega famous. Didn’t Bunny usually go after complete unknown singers and bands and try to launch th
em to stardom? Why on earth would this guy want to switch companies?
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and watched Bunny’s quick signs as she detailed her plan that I was adamant I was not helping her with. But as usual, when it came to Bunny and my life, I could not prepare for what would happen next
Chapter Three
Nate
The mid-July summer weather in Seattle didn’t change the city’s reputation for being rainy. It always just ended up being hot and rainy. The humidity was killing me as I pushed through the crowd. I bet they were all screaming from the top of their lungs. I couldn’t hear it, which I was glad for at least, but I could feel the vibrations around me. They were going to cause an earthquake at this rate.
I felt Bunny’s hands balled up in the back of my shirt urging me forward. It was like the time we went to a haunted house all over again. I felt like a horse.
The crowd didn’t stop traffic or anything but it did fill the entire sidewalk which made me feel bad for all the people trying to go to work in any of the buildings around here.
“I understand paparazzi,” I explained to Bunny earlier while we were “gearing up” at her house in the suburbs. “But do other pop singers get swarmed like this? We’d have a national emergency on our hands if anyone famous ever wanted to go out to grab a coffee.”
“Most famous people don’t have their moves announced to the most intense fans and can get places by putting on a baseball cap and sunglasses without drawing a huge crowd. But you’re right. Lane’s fans are weirdly loyal. If not a little crazy.”
“Is his music good?”
“He’s a good singer.”
“Was that sarcasm? Your face scrunched up all weird.” It was hard for me to tell with Bunny.
“I was being serious. He’s good at singing. Great even. I have a problem with the songs. I don’t like the material he’s given.”
“And you think you can do better?”
“I know I can.” Oh, to have an ounce of the confidence Bunny had.
“What are the songs about?” I glanced at one while I was doing research but I didn’t really care enough at the time to read into it.
“Angsty breakup songs. It’s like emo and pop had a baby.”
“What don’t you like about that?”
“Nothing. I think the style is interesting. I just don’t think he should be singing it.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t like singing it.”
She had shut me up with that. I had no idea how she knew that or if it was true. Lane had to have some control over what he did. If he really didn’t like it, he could just quit. He seemed famous enough to have that sway. These fans would follow him anywhere.
I guess that was what Bunny was banking on happening.
I felt an insistent tugging at my shirt. I turned around and watched Bunny sign the word for “up”. I helped her climb up my back until she was sitting on my shoulder with her hands resting on my head. Bunny was one of the shortest people I’d ever met, but that didn’t mean I could carry her like that forever.
She shoved her hands in front of my face and very sloppily signed what I thought was “go”.
I pushed forward through the crowd. I didn’t want her to pay me, but she definitely owed me.
“See anything?” I hoped I was both being loud enough to be heard while not being too loud.
I didn’t receive a response so I started looking around myself. I saw the bodyguards for the popstar blocking off the entrance. No one was getting in there anytime soon. I tried to squint through the frosted glass but I wasn’t entirely sure what this Lane guy looked like.
When I was a bouncer, and people tried to sneak into the more private clubs, I had to try to think of all the different routes someone might try to do that. I narrowed my eyes. Any team worth their salt would have thought of this already but it wasn’t like Bunny was getting anywhere this way either.
I didn’t have a good way of warning her so I trusted that she trusted me and I began heading away from the crowd. The spot I left behind quickly filled with other fans.
I thought Bunny might be concerned about what I was doing, but she must have figured it out because as I backed away from the crowd and headed into an alley a few buildings down she held tight. I was so caught up in the moment, in feeling like I was doing my job again, I broke the other rule I set; I was going to help Bunny do something very illegal.
We rounded the corner and there was the back of the restaurant. The grease trap smelled like rotting fish and the dumpsters were full. No one was guarding it. A total oversight. It was possible the bodyguards were over extended dealing with the crowd out front and hoped whatever detail they had inside would cover it if anyone got in some other way.
I felt a soft tap against my cheek and rolled my eyes. I helped Bunny climb down off my shoulders so she could get a look around the corner to see the back door.
“You genius,” she signed to me.
“I try,” I signed back.
She looked back at me and carefully pronounced, “We wait. He’s going to have to leave out this door. We’ll ambush him then.”
“Ambush?”
“You know what I mean.”
“You mean ambush.”
She blew a raspberry in my direction. “Justified ambush.”
“Whatever you say.”
We waited in the nearby alley watching the door by peeking out from behind the wall. After thirty or so agonizing minutes where I was both bored and filled with anticipation at the same time, the back door creaked.
Two men wearing visible security uniforms stepped out first followed by the popstar himself. He was a skinny guy, a little shorter than me, with raven black hair swept to the side. He wore dark clothing, a long t-shirt and black jeans, which had to be uncomfortable in this weather. Something about the arch of his brow and the light rose tinting his tan cheeks made my eyes widen just a millimeter. Of course he had to be hot, he was a popstar. Every picture I’d seen of him online was perfectly manufactured to create an image for people to desire. I didn’t fall for those tricks. But there was something different to seeing him in real life. He wasn’t edited here; he was naturally magnetizing.
I could tell Bunny was set on running forward and waiting for me but I hesitated. I felt stupid for being distracted by his looks at the time, but in the end, it was probably for the best we hadn’t run out there so quickly.
On the other end in the other alley, a surge of people burst forth and overwhelmed the measly security detail he had on him. I guess other people had the same idea as I had. Or, I thought guiltily, they saw me and copied my idea.
These weren’t normal fans. They weren’t hoping to see their hero or wanting to get his autograph like most of the people out front. These people wanted a piece of him. I saw groups of them mob the security guards and they went down like they were being swallowed by a wave.
Bunny had backed up into me and glanced up at me with a rare show of concern on her face. Bunny wanted to pitch her idea and then get chased off without causing a huge scene. She wasn’t planning on anything like this. But I bet this put her off trying to pull a stunt like this ever again.
I looked back to the crowd and saw a hand reach up and grab the collar of Lane’s shirt and yank him backwards. His eyes went wide and I saw him struggle to breathe in for a moment. I felt responsible and I bet Bunny did too; even if we didn’t give these people the idea, we were planning on bothering a guy who was just trying to enjoy his vacation.
I didn’t want to see him get hurt.
I always hated doing nothing. I loved being helpful, being useful.
I put my hands on Bunny’s shoulders and caught her eyes. I signed “up”. Immediately I saw the fire return to her eyes. She climbed back up onto my shoulders and held on tight. I stretched my legs out a bit first. If I wanted this to work, I couldn’t afford to get a cramp. I tapped Bunny’s hands wrapped around my forehead to give her a warning. Then, I ran.
I reached Lane quickly but I felt the people pushing against me and their hands grabbing at my clothes too. I had to get him out of here before I was overwhelmed like his guards were. He was trying to shield his face with his arms. He was shaking. He was terrified.
That just added fuel to the fire burning in me to keep going. Once we reached him, I scooped him up into my arms. It was probably demoralizing to be bridal carried but I couldn’t carry two people on my back at once. Once he was in my arms, I rushed off out of the crowd. I couldn’t be sure, but I was probably being followed by a hundred screaming people. I took off carrying quite a lot of weight as I zigged and zagged through the back alleys. Our pursuers probably hadn’t trained as much as I had so I had stamina on my side. But if I couldn’t lose them, eventually my arms would give out.
I felt some fighting in my arms and glanced down.
Lane was saying something. I couldn’t focus enough to read his lips. He was glaring at me. I would too if a stranger had basically abducted me. But there was no time to explain.
“I’ve got you,” I said down to him and tried to smile as warmly as I could given the situation.
He stilled in my arms and allowed me to continue trying to lose these people. I was glad he gave me a little trust. Misplaced trust, to be sure, but trust, nonetheless.
Chapter Four
Lane
I hadn’t wanted to do the interview. I was supposed to be on vacation. Interviews were work. But Mr. Smart convinced me it would be better if I didn’t disappear completely. But as I was being trampled on by people who were supposedly fans of mine, I was fervently wishing I could just disappear. When I was quite literally swept up off my feet by a man the same size and shape as a statue of Zeus, I had briefly thought I had lost it.
When I regained some awareness and the shock was beginning to either wear off or truly set in, I tried to get some answers. I struggled in the man’s surprisingly firm yet not tight grip. “Excuse me?” He kept running and I felt a headache coming on as we raced and I bobbed around the unfamiliar streets.