Wicked White

by Michelle A. Valentine

  I sigh, remembering what the lawyer told me to say—be truthful, but be sure to paint myself, the band, and the label in a positive light. “The band dynamics have been rocky for the past year. We’ve had some trouble coming together as a cohesive unit, and so when they immediately went off the deep end because shows needed to be canceled so I could be with my mom, something in me snapped.” My attention jerks to Jane Ann, who nods and twirls her finger, indicating for me to continue discussing my “self-destruction.”

  “When you say you snapped . . . what happened?”

  I clear my throat and continue. “I lost all focus, I guess. Everything around me seemed to be falling apart, and I felt like I was losing my identity with Wicked White, and the sudden news of my mother being gravely ill and then passing . . . it’s like it all culminated at one time and I just sort of lost my head. Suddenly I just wanted away from everything. I wanted to be somewhere without all the pressures that come with being a rock star.”

  Linda crosses her legs. “So that’s when you decided to cut your hair and shave your beard in order to go into hiding?”

  I nod. “Yes. I wanted to be different so I couldn’t be found. I started with a pair of scissors and created a new look that would be harder to recognize. I knew that Jane Ann and the media would continue to follow me after I flipped off the band and walked off stage, so I needed to throw them off my scent so I would have a chance of normalcy.”

  “Well, you look fantastic. The new look is amazing. Do you feel like a changed man now?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “It’s my understanding that you were involved with a certain young woman during your three-month period away from stardom. Can you tell us a little about Iris Easton?”

  My heart squeezes at the mention of her name. Even though I’m still angry and hurt by the way she ended things between us, I refuse to drag her any further into the madness that is my life right now. I won’t hurt her chances of landing a Broadway role on her own merits by publicizing our relationship any more than it’s already been. I know how important it is to her to get a role. I don’t want it to be another source of heartbreak for her if she gains a role, only to learn later on that she got it because of me and not because of her remarkable talent.

  I shake my head. “I won’t answer any questions pertaining to Ms. Easton.”

  Linda Bronson raises her eyebrows, like this surprises her, but she doesn’t press me any more about Iris. “Okay, well, let’s move on to the record label. Have you gotten a chance to speak with Mopar Records since your return a few days ago?”

  “My tour manager, Jane Ann, has, yes.”

  “And what are they saying?” Linda probes.

  I scratch the corner of my mouth, trying to ignore the dry-mouth feeling that’s come over me since this interview started. “My contract still stands. The Wicked White shows that were canceled because of my absence will be rescheduled.”

  “Really? Just like that and you’re back in the label’s good graces? They aren’t going to sue you?”

  I shake my head. “I’m going to have to work really, really hard to prove to the label that mentally I’m back on track and that they can trust me. If I fulfill my contract, then there’s no reason for them to seek legal action against me. I will, however, be exerting more creative control in the songs Wicked White produces, along with what songs we perform. I’ll be leading the band in a new creative direction.”

  “Will you be sticking to the same type of songs that you’ve been producing?”

  “No. We will be changing up the sound of Wicked White.”

  Linda leans over and lays her hand on my forearm. “I can’t wait to see the direction you go in. Good luck, and I personally wish you the best in your future endeavors.” She turns away from me and faces the camera again. “For Celebrity Pop Buzz Nightly, I’m Linda Bronson.”

  The camerawoman cuts the filming, and Linda’s body visibly relaxes as she turns to me. “That was great. I wish you would’ve talked a little about Iris, but it was still good.”

  I shake my head as the sound woman reaches in my shirt and unhooks my microphone. “I don’t want to drag her in this any more than I already have.”

  She nods. “Iris is such a sweet girl. That girl really loved you.”

  I don’t miss the past-tense wording in that sentence. “You don’t think she loves me anymore?”

  Linda glances up at me as she leans forward so the sound technician can remove her mic pack from the waistband of her skirt. “Ace, honey, how much longer do you think she’s going to wait around for you? The girl was desperate enough to find you that she allowed me to interview her, even though it was clear that she was uncomfortable. She truly didn’t believe that she had any other way of reaching you, other than through begging for you to contact her on national television. She really put herself out there, and I’m going to bet that you still haven’t called her.”

  I frown and my eyes dart down to the ground.

  Linda sighs. “That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, though. She’s a smart girl, and she’ll realize that you were with her out of convenience and nothing more. I mean, my God, look at you. You’re insanely attractive, and this new broken bad-boy image will drive the female fans wild. If I didn’t know any better, I would say this was just a brilliant publicity stunt.”

  “It’s not like that at all. I’m not . . . I didn’t . . .” I shove my hand through my hair, frustrated that I can’t even seem to communicate how I feel about Iris. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly between pursed lips. “I honestly doubt she wants me around, and if she does, I’m not sure I can take her back after what she said to me.”

  “Trust me. She wants you.” Linda stands. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t take too much time figuring that out. I imagine a girl like her won’t stay single long. Some guy will snap her up in a heartbeat if she allows herself to get over you.”

  “Linda, we need to move on to the next location,” the camerawoman calls, hurrying her star reporter along.

  Linda nods and then gives me a sad smile. “Good luck, Ace. I hope you find whatever it is that you’re looking for and that I don’t have to go on any more wild chases across the country searching for you.”

  I swallow down the lump that’s building in my throat as I think about how Linda might just have a point. Iris is a beautiful, intelligent woman who has the voice of an angel. Any man would be a fool if he didn’t instantly fall for her like I did.

  As bad as I want to rush back into her life, I know it’s not fair if I can’t give her a realistic timeline when all this label drama will be over. A few more days sorting things out and I’ll go find her. I’ll prove to her that I’m a good man—the kind who will cherish her forever. I’ll show her that I can rein in my emotions and that I can keep myself in check.

  Jane Ann steps up next to me with a huge smile. “That was perfect. You had the right emotion and gave just enough details without giving away too much. Gah! Linda Bronson was correct, this will be huge publicity for you.”

  “Jane Ann—”

  She holds her hands up. “I know, I know. You don’t care about that, but Ace, let’s be realistic. Fans are going to eat up the whole tortured artist thing, and they’ll be on pins and needles waiting to see what you’re going to do next.”

  We walk out onto my back patio. February in California is nothing like Ohio. It’s still warm enough to sit outside and enjoy the weather. The place is just as I left it a few months ago—perfectly landscaped, with tall shrubs providing all the privacy anyone could ever dream of. That’s one plus about living in a gated community: it really cuts down on the random break-ins when you’re not home.

  “I want to get to work on the new songs right away. We need to call the band together so we can go over what our new sound will be.”

  “I still don’t think changing the direction—”

  I hold my hand up. “If I am going to stay in Wicked White, these are my terms, and if you
want to stay on board and make money off of me like you’re used to, then you’ll stop fighting me on this.”

  “Okay, but the other guys might not like it,” she says. “They signed up to play pop music that has mass appeal. They won’t like doing a one-eighty with the sound and becoming a completely different-sounding band for fear they’ll lose the fans that they’ve already amassed.”

  I shrug. “Then let them quit. They all hate me anyhow, so it might be nice to get some new blood in the band.”

  She opens her mouth like she’s going to protest but then quickly closes it and nods. “Maybe you’re right on that point. JJ can be a real prick at times. I hate having to deal with him myself. The other two will fall in line I think, once you assert more authority as the leader of the band.”

  “That’s going to happen, or I’ll find a new drummer and bassist, only this time I get a say if we replace them.”

  “Okay, any other demands?” she asks.

  “Only one: I want to pay Willow Acres’s taxes off for Iris. She’s going to lose it soon if they aren’t paid, and I want to do that for her. There are some amazing people who live there, and I don’t want to see them lose their homes.”

  She tilts her head. “That brings up another subject: Jeremy Winkler. He’s pressed assault charges, and that’s something we’re going to have to deal with.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. That douche bag is really a fucking thorn in my side. “We’ll deal with it.”

  “I could offer to pay him off in order to get—”

  “No. I refuse to give that asshole any money. If he sues me and wins—”

  “Then that could be a lot more money in the long run. Let me have our attorneys settle with him out of court. It’ll be a lot less messy and we’ll have the matter over with a lot sooner.” When I hesitate, Jane Ann adds, “Be smart about this, Ace. I know you want this all behind you, and paying him off is the best way to do that. Once we get through this, you can refocus on your career—your music—and figure out where your relationship stands with Iris Easton. Aren’t those the most important things right now?”

  “Yes,” I answer immediately. “Iris and my music are the only things that matter to me.”

  “Then let me help you by doing this. I’ll get the taxes paid off to help Iris, and then I’ll figure out how much it’ll take to get rid of Jeremy. It’s the best way. Trust me.”

  I turn to her and take in Jane Ann’s heart-shaped face, hoping that she really does have my best interests at heart as I agree to what she’s saying. “Okay. If you and the attorneys think that’s best, then okay. I need time to refocus on my music and find my soul again. It’s going to take me some time to come up with new material for the next record. Will you call the band and set up a time we can all meet? I want to rip off that Band-Aid and get pissing them off over with.”

  “Yes. I’ll make that happen right away.” Jane Ann nods, pulling out her phone. “Let me know if you need anything else. I need you focused. Those new songs won’t write themselves.”

  A calm comes over me, and for once I finally feel like I’m taking control of my career and my voice is being heard.

  IRIS

  The bustling sound of New York City out the window of my shoe-box apartment is a far cry from the quiet surroundings of my childhood home. It was hard leaving Willow Acres, but knowing that Adele and Birdie are running things in my absence helps me rest easier at night. Birdie has decided to hold off on moving here with me for now because she loves her night shift job at Angel’s, and she knows I’m depending on her to help Adele with the trailer park. I trust both of them implicitly. They’re my family—blood or not—and they’re all I’ve got.

  When I went to Tanner’s office three days before my scheduled flight back to the city to tell him that I wouldn’t be able to come up with the money for the taxes, I was shocked to find they had already been paid. I didn’t figure Ace would still do that for me, considering I hadn’t heard from him for at least three weeks at that point.

  I went on national television, practically begging him to come back, or at the very least call me, but I never heard a peep from him. I find myself not only hurt by the fact that he didn’t even make an attempt to contact me, but pissed. It makes me wonder if the romantic nice guy who made me lots of poetic promises was full of nothing but shit. I think after pouring my heart out in front of millions of people, I at least deserve a phone call, even if it is just to tell me things are over and to move on with my life.

  So, needless to say, I was surprised that he’d followed through with helping me out by paying the taxes.

  I’ve been working my ass off ever since then to save the money to pay him back. I have around two thousand dollars saved, and I will pay him back every penny . . . once I figure out how to get in contact with him, that is.

  It’s been a little over five weeks since I last saw Ace in person. Sure, I’ve seen him from time to time like the rest of America on the covers of tabloid magazines and on television when Linda Bronson updates her viewers on Ace’s comeback. He never mentions me willingly. If my name is ever brought up in an interview, he refuses to comment, so I figure he’s still hurt that I wouldn’t leave with him.

  “Are you nearly ready?” Darcy, my roommate, asks.

  “Yes,” I tell her as I finish the last coat of my mascara. “Let’s go.”

  Darcy pulls her dark, curly hair into a ponytail, showing off her slender neck and perfectly round face, before grabbing her purse.

  I follow her out the door and wait on her to lock up before we head to the elevator.

  I met Darcy nearly a year ago when I first moved into the city. She and I worked together at Flows and immediately hit it off. Like me, Darcy moved here to make it in theater, but her dream is to be a prima ballerina. When I decided it was time to come back to New York, she was the first person I called, and I have been crashing on her couch for the last two weeks.

  I was ecstatic to get my old waitressing job back here at Flows. That place was like a second home to me, so I am grateful for the familiarity. Everything fell back into place just as it was a few months ago, and it’s like I never left.

  I pick at my nails, noticing I desperately need a manicure, but am determined to save every penny until Ace gets his money back.

  “How’d your audition go yesterday?” I ask Darcy as we walk down the busy street on the way to work.

  She shrugs. “They didn’t seem superenthused by me, so I doubt I’ll get a callback.”

  I nudge her shoulder with mine. “Don’t be such a negative ninny. I’m sure you did fantastic.”

  “This is a tough, tough city to catch a break in. It’s hard to always keep positive.” She turns toward me. “Speaking of positive, are you ready for tomorrow?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. I’m ready to get back in the audition saddle. I think I’ve picked up a few new tricks over the last few months that will really help.”

  Darcy smiles at me knowingly. “Are we talking about the tips that a certain beautiful rock star gave you about connecting to the crowd?”

  I blush and tuck a stray lock of hair from my ponytail behind my ear. “Yeah. He really helped me open up.”

  She laughs. “I bet he did.”

  I laugh too, but deep down, the overwhelming sadness that exists in my heart curls its way up into my chest. It hurts that I haven’t heard from him. After everything we went through—the things we said and the promises we made to each other—I thought I meant more to him. I figured it might be a few days before I heard from him, but when it turned to weeks, I had to reach out to him through the media because I had to apologize.

  The final strike to my heart was when he resurfaced in the public eye and didn’t make an attempt to contact me. That was when I began to doubt if what we shared was even real.

  “He still hasn’t called you?” Darcy asks when she notices my sudden silence.

  My lips pull into a tight line. “No.”

  She
grabs my hand. “If he’s as smart as you say, then he will, because he would be stupid to let someone as great as you slip through his fingers.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper and squeeze her hand. “Sometimes it’s easy to give up hope that he ever really loved me.”

  The rest of the day I busy myself taking orders and serving up some of the best burgers that New York has to offer. Flows is a block away from Times Square, so we’re always hopping and we’re always open. The tourists flood in here, and we’re even busier than normal since one of those food television shows featured us as having one of the best burgers in the United States. So it’s easy to block out the nagging heartbreak that’s always on my mind while I’m here.

  “Your order is up, Iris,” Jason calls from the kitchen.

  I smile at the tall, good-looking cook as he slides my cheeseburger platters toward me through the opening in the wall. His magnetic blue eyes sparkle, appearing even lighter today against his dark hair and tan complexion. Jason, like most of us working here, has come to the city to make it in show business. He’s got the looks to make it for sure, but his voice—that’s what he’s been working on polishing since I met him last year.

  “Thanks, Jason.” I set the plates on my tray.

  “Iris, I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me and a couple friends tonight.”

  I frown. “Oh, I don’t—”

  He holds his hands up and smiles. “No pressure. I just thought you’ve looked sad lately and I wanted to cheer you up. You can totally bring Darcy along, and we’ll go out for a late dinner and just hang out.”

  “Did I just hear my name?” Darcy asks as she slides up next to me and throws a flirty smile in Jason’s direction.

  “I was just inviting you and Iris to come hang out with me and a couple of my buddies tonight.” He shoots her a heart-stopping smile and her cheeks noticeably redden.

  Darcy has had a thing for Jason since our manager, Ester, hired him. Darcy will kill me if I don’t agree to this so she has a chance to spend a little time with him outside of work.