Westside Series Box Set

by Monica Alexander

  “The car’s here,” Van said a few minutes later after he got a text from Marshall, his bodyguard.

  Marshall was downstairs with Greg, my bodyguard, waiting for us to finish getting ready. Our stylists had come and gone, fitting us in our designer duds and getting us red carpet ready. It was a process I’d gotten used to over the years, so I didn’t fight it. I wore what they told me to wear, let them style my hair and didn’t say a word. I’d spent most of my childhood attending black tie events, so I was used to it. It was all part of the game, and I’d been playing it for years.

  “Showtime,” I said to Van as we started to head downstairs with Elisa walking between us.

  It was odd that Van and I were heading to the venue without Cam and Dillon. For five years it had been the four of us, always together, never apart for long, but since Cam and Dillon had broken off and done their own thing when they’d written that movie script, they’d been invited to a pre-event cocktail party with some Hollywood bigwigs. We were coordinating our limos to arrive at the same time, so at least we’d walk the red carpet together, but not riding in the car together felt odd, and to be honest, it made me a little anxious.

  I think we all knew that Westside couldn’t last forever, so there had always been a lingering question around what would be next for us, but we’d always talked about staying together as a band for as long as we could. Now that Cam and Dillon had branched out, though, I wasn’t sure if they’d end up wanting the same thing in the long run. And with our contract expiring at the end of the year, a part of me was starting to wonder if this was going to be over before I was ready. I really hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

  Elisa put her hands on my shoulders, pulling me out of my head where I was second-guessing too much. “You’re going to be nice to Sabrina, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Phillip, please.”

  “Okay, fine,” I said, figuring I could fake pleasantries.

  I’d been doing it since birth. I could turn the charm on and off whenever I needed to. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to in this case. Part of me wanted Sabrina to recognize that she wasn’t welcome in my world.

  I’d tried to do that when we’d met for coffee a few days earlier, but I wasn’t sure I’d gotten my point across. I’d been distracted, texting back and forth with Leah. When I’d been visiting her, she’d told me she was planning to bring Gavin to our show in Miami, but that wasn’t for a few months. Since then I’d been working on getting her to come to one of our shows on the West Coast, where we’d be for the first few weeks of the tour before we headed up to Canada.

  It felt like I hadn’t gotten my fill of Leah and Gavin when I’d been in South Florida, and I was missing them more than usual since I’d been out in L.A. for the past few weeks. Of course Leah protested, telling me she couldn’t afford cross-country flights for her and Gavin at the last minute, which I found to be the most ridiculous notion ever. I had what felt like an endless supply of money. I’d never dream of making her pay a dime, but as soon as I suggested that, she about bit my head off with protestations in all caps and lots of exclamation points. Arguing over text with her was even more irritating, but she’d been at work, in a meeting, so she hadn’t been able to talk.

  Good news for me, though, I’d always been a take-charge kind of guy when it came to getting what I wanted. While Leah was arguing with me, I was already making the decision to hire a private jet to fly her and Gavin out to Seattle, and I’d arrange for their hotel room to be taken care of. I’d send Leah the details when everything was booked. She’d probably want to kill me, but then she’d get over it, and I’d get to see her and Gavin sooner rather than later. Win-win all around if you asked me.

  But because I’d been preoccupied, I’d only been half-listening to what Sabrina was saying when her mouth was opening and closing, figuring it didn’t really matter. I heard the high points, which were the same as what Damon had shared with me, but then she added in her own psychobabble, talking about knowing what I was going through and that she knew how hard it was and how much I needed people in my life that I could trust.

  After she’d said that, I’d looked up at her and said, “Yeah, no offense, but I have those people in my life already. I’m not looking to add anyone else to the mix, and frankly, even if I was, you wouldn’t be who I’d pick.”

  Sabrina had narrowed her eyes at me, and I’d watched her swallow, wondering if I’d hurt her or pissed her off. She seemed tough, but I wondered if it was a front.

  “I figured you’d say that,” she’d said coolly.

  “Smart girl,” I said, keeping the sarcasm going, seeing how far I could push her.

  “I am,” she confirmed, leaning forward to put her elbows on the table, not seeming to give me an inch. “But I’m also not going anywhere. Like it or not, this is the role I was asked to play. I’m here for you however you need me.”

  “Thanks,” I’d said, grabbing my coffee as I stood, figuring I’d cut the conversation off at the knees. “I’ll let you know if that happens.”

  She looked dumbfounded for a few seconds, and I smiled to myself.

  “Phillip,” she called after me as I started to walk away.

  “What?” I asked, only slowing my stride a little and keeping my gaze forward.

  “We need to talk about the Oscars.”

  “Have your people call my people. I’m sure they can figure it out without us.”

  It was such a dick thing to say, but I couldn’t have cared less about her feelings in that moment. I had better things to do than talk about our shared addictions and how I was feeling. She didn’t know shit about me, and I didn’t need her. I figured she should at least know what she was entering into.

  I hadn’t spoken to her since that day, so I wasn’t sure what to expect from her when I got into the limo. Not that it really mattered. I’d still walk next to her and smile; give the people what they wanted and all that, but my pleasantries didn’t have to extend beyond what the camera caught. I’d probably end up keeping the same mantra throughout the tour – unless she wanted to entertain the fuck-buddy option. Then we could talk.

  “Remember to tell her she looks nice,” Elisa reminded me as the door of the limo was opened by the driver.

  “Yeah, sure. Will do,” I said half-heartedly.

  “Don’t be a dick, man,” Van said, thumping me on the back.

  I turned to glare at him. “Asshole.”

  He shrugged. “Just saying.”

  I let him get in ahead of me so he could sit next to Elisa. Then I took a deep breath and followed him into the limo.

  “Hello, Phillip,” Sabrina said politely, if not a little coolly, when I slid in next to her.

  “Hi. How’s it going?”

  She offered me a small smile. “I’m doing well. Thanks for asking.”

  “You look nice,” I said with as little emotion as I could muster and heard Elisa tsk at me from across the limo. Had she been able to reach me, she probably would have slugged me, so I guess it was a good thing we were separated.

  I saw Sabrina’s smile falter as my tone registered with her, and she smoothed her hands over her thighs that were covered by her floor-length black gown.

  As we started to move, she opened her mouth to say something but was silenced by my phone that started to ring. I looked at the display to see it was Leah and smiled involuntarily.

  “Hey kiddo,” I said when I answered.

  “Hello Mr. Superstar,” she said jovially. “Are you all ready for your big night?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I’m all ready to step and repeat, smile and pose. It’s going to be tough. I’m not sure I can handle it.”

  Leah laughed. “Yeah, but you’ll look great doing it, so that’s what counts.”

  I supposed she was right. I’d been told I was good looking for years, ever since I’d been tapped to be a teen model at fifteen. I saw what the outside world saw, even though I’d always hated how pretty I looked. Maybe
that was why I liked to keep a perpetual scowl on my face. I figured it dissolved the impression people had of me being a nice guy. I really wasn’t – at least not to most people.

  “You’re the only person who thinks that,” I teased Leah, which I was sure made her roll her eyes.

  “Oh, please. You’re gorgeous, and you know it.”

  “I don’t know about that. Tell me more,” I prompted her, sort of liking when she stroked my ego.

  “No way,” she refused. “If you want validation that you’re hot, take a look at last August’s In Style that raved about your full lips, angular jaw and sharp nose, pretty much calling you a chiseled specimen of perfection.”

  “Yeah, but it only counts if you think that too.”

  I expected her to laugh, but the line went quiet for a few seconds, and I wasn’t sure what had happened.

  “Leah?” I asked, hoping we hadn’t gotten disconnected.

  “I’m here.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Um, there’s someone who wants to talk to you. That’s why I called.”

  I let out a soft sigh, not sure what had made her tone shift like it had. I figured it wasn’t the best time to ask her.

  “Sounds great. Put him on,” I said instead.

  A few seconds later, Gavin was on the line. “Hi Phillip!”

  “Hey Gav, what’s up, man?”

  “I was swimming in my new pool, and it’s the awesomest! But Mommy said that you were going to be on TV, so I got out. We’re going to watch you. Are you singing your songs?”

  I laughed. “No, little man. Not tonight. I’m just going to the award show. I’m not performing.”

  “Really?! Are you getting an award?”

  I laughed again. “I wish, but no. This is for people who act in movies, not people who sing.”

  “Oh, then why are you going?”

  “That’s an excellent question. I’m not exactly sure.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well, we ordered pizza – with pepperoni and black olives! It’s not here yet, but I’m starving! I’m going to eat two pieces.”

  I laughed. “Well, that’s your favorite, so you should eat as much as you want. And see if your mom will give you ice cream for dessert.”

  “Okay!” he said gleefully, and I knew Leah was going to kill me for suggesting that. Gavin was already hyper enough without sugar.

  In the background, I heard Leah saying something to him, so I stayed quiet. He came back on the line a few seconds later.

  “Phillip?”

  “Yeah, bud?”

  “Good luck tonight. Don’t fall down while you’re walking,” he said, and then he started giggling and I heard some rustling in the background before Leah came back on the line.

  “Hey, so we just wanted to call and wish you good luck. I know you’re busy.”

  “I’m never too busy for you guys.”

  “Yup, okay, so good luck tonight. We’ll talk to you soon,” she said in a rush, and then she hung up.

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at it, bewildered by what had just happened. Had Leah been acting weird or was it just me?

  “Was that your girlfriend?” Sabrina asked from beside me, and I looked up at her in question.

  “Huh?”

  I wasn’t sure what she was talking about.

  “It’s the girl he wishes was his girlfriend,” Van chimed in.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked him, looking across the limo at him in confusion.

  He just laughed.

  I shook my head as I pieced what he was saying together. I was feeling a little slow on the uptake.

  “You’re such a dick,” I told him. “You know it’s not like that between Leah and me. We’re friends.”

  “Sure you are.”

  “Dude, I’ve known her since we were kids. We’re just friends.”

  “Friends who used to hook up,” he reminded me.

  “In high school – years ago. Let it go,” I practically growled at him.

  “Where does Leah live?” Sabrina asked me.

  I shifted my gaze to her in confusion, not exactly sure why she felt compelled to interject herself into my conversation with Van.

  “Ft. Lauderdale,” I said warily.

  “And she has a son?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, Gavin. He’s my godson.”

  “That’s cool. How old is he?”

  I suddenly realized what she was doing, so I put my hand up to stop her, shaking my head. “Don’t.”

  She looked confused, but I had a feeling it was all for show. “Don’t do what?”

  “Don’t do what you’re doing – asking me about my life. I’m not doing this.”

  “I was just making conversation,” she said, sounding only a little wounded.

  “Don’t bother. We’re not going to be friends, so it’s pretty much a waste of your time.”

  Sabrina didn’t say anything to me, but her gaze locked on mine for several seconds in an almost challenging sort of way. I knew she wanted to say something in response, but she was biting her tongue.

  “Fine,” she said coolly after several seconds of silence. Then she turned to Elisa who was much more willing to carry on a conversation with her.

  I looked up to see Van scowling at me.

  “What?” I mouthed.

  He just shook his head, so I waved him off and looked out the window at the passing scenery. I knew what he wanted to say, but I wasn’t interested in entertaining his concerns right then. I’d only promised to be polite to Sabrina, not to be friends with her, and I wasn’t apologizing for that.

  Chapter Five

  Sabrina

  Phillip Lawton was a bigger dick than I’d ever thought. I felt bad thinking that, but based on my experiences with him over the past few weeks, I didn’t have another adjective that described him quite like that one. I had a feeling six months of looking after him was going to be worse than I’d ever imagined.

  I took a deep breath as I focused my gaze on the closed door of his dressing room and tried to remind myself that I was doing a good thing. I had a feeling I’d have to keep reminding myself of that day after day, considering it was fairly obvious I was the last person he wanted around.

  And if I thought he’d been cold to me during the Oscar’s, it was nothing compared to how he’d been treating me since the tour had started a week earlier. He was basically ignoring me and shutting me out whenever I tried to talk to him.

  Not that I’d expected him to all of a sudden trust me enough to open up and share all of his secrets. I figured he’d be guarded at first, because that’s how I would have been, but I also assumed the ice would have melted after a few days when he realized I was on his side. I hadn’t expected him to be as closed-off as he was.

  It had only been a week, but I’d already tried every suggestion Mandy had given me to connect with him. Nothing was working, and I was starting to get frustrated. But I wasn’t a quitter, so regardless of what he threw at me, I wasn’t going to back down.

  If I didn’t know better, I might have thought he didn’t need me, since to the outside world, he didn’t seem to have a problem at all. But maybe that was part of his game. Maybe it was how he wanted things. I’d been watching him for the past week, trying to figure out what made him tick, and in that time, I’d learned a few things about him. One, he rarely showed emotion. Two, he was sarcastic as hell, and three, he was miserable.

  I had no idea what demons haunted him, but I’d never seen a guy as unhappy in his own skin as Phillip seemed. Sure, he had his moments when he didn’t seem like he wanted to say, ‘Fuck the world,’ but those moments were few and far between.

  I could tell he liked performing. Maybe not as much as Cam or Van, but I could tell Phillip was at home on-stage. Where he wasn’t at home was around the fans. The band did a meet and greet before each concert, and I could tell that although Phillip put on a smile, it was fake and forced, and he was tense the whole time.
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  He did seem more settled around his bandmates, but he definitely tensed up whenever Damon or any of Westside’s other authority figures were in the room. He didn’t say much, and he kept a perpetual scowl on his face until they were gone. He rarely smiled, but once and a while, Van or Cam or Dillon would say something that would get him to laugh. And he seemed to smile more when he was texting a particular person on his phone.

  I had no idea if it was the girl he’d been talking to when we’d been on the way to the Oscars or if it was someone else, but whoever it was, they talked every few days, and it always put Phillip in a better mood.

  He was definitely a mystery, but I’d always been inquisitive by nature, so I accepted the challenge he threw out. I was going to find a way to connect with him if it killed me – if for no other reason than I knew he needed to talk to someone. He’d gotten out of rehab less than two months earlier, and he’d been thrown into the craziness that was a pop tour, one of the same things that had been a catalyst for him using in the past.

  And although I hadn’t seen him take a drink or a hit of anything suspicious, because I’d been watching him like a hawk, there were enough temptations floating around the two parties that had been thrown for the band since the tour started. And I knew there’d be plenty more.

  I also knew how hard it would get for him to not give in to temptation. Things he needed to steer clear of were available to him most places he looked. It was too easy to justify a small taste or a swig, one pill to take the edge off. I’d been there. I’d almost fallen off the rails a few times when I’d re-entered the social scene.

  Thankfully I’d maintained enough self-control to fight the urges that were eating away at me and had called Mandy to talk me the rest of the way down. She’d told me it would happen. She described the way I would feel and the desire that would run so deep it would overtake me. She told me that the second I felt that way, I needed to call her, so I had. Those words resonating in my mind were the only things that kept me from giving in. I heard her voice in my head, and I saw the look on her face.