by Finn, Thia
Carter sat down at the edge of the stage dangling his legs over the side, girls grabbing and his legs and crying out, as he played a riff beginning the next song in the set and played the first half sitting on the edge of the stage. Occasionally he gazed out at the crowd and smirked before turning his eyes back to his instrument. Security truly hated when the guys played to the crowd this way but the fans loved every minute of it. Carter felt lucky to stand back up with all of his clothing intact and still wearing both of his boots. He turned and gave his bandmates a big smile and laughed, though, because they knew those things fed the energy of the crowd and Carter was counting on benefitting from that backstage after the show.
Standing at her stationary position behind her keyboard, Chandler felt shielded from the insanity the guys were creating. She was able to survey the crowd better and enjoyed it. Between songs when the guys would talk, she had a few opportunities to record a few short videos with her phone, and she would step out from behind her gear to move around the stage and record whatever the guys were doing or get a better shot of the crowd.
By the time the intro to the last song started, she had about ten short video clips she could string together for a fun memory of this moment in time and one that was sure to cause a huge surge in the trending on the band’s Twitter account. KeeMac hated her stepping out from behind the keyboard and being vulnerable to the guys in the audience. As much as he tried not to let their lustful stares at her bother him, their whistles and lewd, suggestive comments always caught his attention.
“You fucking dicks out there need to be nice to our sweetheart!” he yelled into the microphone whenever he did notice. His reaction always incited the male fans in the crowd to ramp up their lecherous comments, so he tried to keep his own comments to a minimum. She knew it bothered him but she would always smile and blow him a kiss then teasingly slap her own ass in a fun gesture to the male audience members. Chandler did it in jest but it still got under KeeMac’s skin more than he was willing to admit.
The band left the stage amidst a wild mayhem of screaming fans. “That was insane out there!” Gunner yelled after he threw his drumsticks into the crowd and followed everyone else off stage.
“I caught some of the madness on video,” she told them backstage. “We’ll watch it later and maybe post some of it online.”
“Dammit Chan, watching those motherfuckers drooling over you once was bad enough. Now you want to play it over and over? Fuck that shit. I don’t want to see it.” KeeMac seemed genuinely pissed.
“Let me get this straight. It’s OK for some painted-up wannabe porn star look-alikes to throw their skanky thongs and double-D bras at you the entire show, and it’s cool, just part of the show? And you’re even up there, egging it on, flinging sweat on those crazed women who are grabbing for your junk and making all kinds of propositions to you and the guys, and it’s just ‘the more the merrier’? But if a guy makes a suggestive comment or even notices me onstage, you get pissed off? Double standard much?”
Keeton stopped walking and just looked at Chandler like she was speaking a foreign language. The other three guys took one look at his face and fell over themselves laughing at his reaction. “Dude, she’s got you by the balls there! Hahahaha!”
Ryan regained his composure and chimed in, trying to smooth things over, “As long as they’re only looking and not fucking touching, man, it’s all good. You know this sure as shit reeks of jealousy. I never took you for a jealous-type, Mac.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder and gave him a wry smile and quirked an eyebrow at him, hoping to drive his point home.
KeeMac took a deep breath and calmed down, and was even laughing at himself by the time they returned to the hotel. Gunner asked, “Hey, Chan. Even if BigMac over there can’t take the heat, I still wanna see what you got from the show today. Can you put it up on the big screen somehow?”
Chandler took advantage of the technology available in Cash’s suite, and accessed the wireless network and was able to cast her phone’s videos to the flat screen TV in the suite’s living room.
Immediately, the outrageous level of noise from the crowd during the show was blaring, but with the video playing through the surround sound, it was even louder in the room. The band’s enjoyment added to the volume as they got to see the show from a different perspective while their fans went wild. An occasional scantily-clad woman would flash her tits, and the frequency in which it occurred during the show and the view of breasts of all shapes and sizes popping into view on the screen, had gone mostly unnoticed while the band was playing. But now, on the video, it was like prairie dogs popping up out of the crowd, and it was almost comical, though in some cases they definitely saw more than they bargained.
“Now you see what I’m talking about, Keeton? That’s all I see from where I’m standing. Every. Single. Show.” Chandler crossed her arms over her chest as she looked at him, hoping she had made her point and, more importantly, that it would be the end of his streak of jealous tantrums.
A disappointed Gunner jumped up and yelled, “We are going to have to put my kit on a rolling platform. I’m missing out on all the tits and panty action in the back!”
“Dude, next show, I’ll throw them over your drums to you,” KeeMac told him and laughed.
“The hell you will! We are trying to make new fans, dumbass!” Carter told them causing the rest of them to laugh. “Hey, did you hear the one about the drummer walking with the hot chick on his arm? That’s a damn good new tat.”
When the laughter finally died down and Gunner’s fists finally loosened up, Chandler caught her breath and said, “No way, Keeton. I don’t want you touching those nasty things.”
“Aww, Chandler. Does all that silk and lace make you jealous?” It was his turn to rub some salt in the wound. She tried to be mad but ended up having a good laugh with everyone in the room.
After watching all ten of Chandler’s short videos several times, Peri stood up and walked closer to the screen. “Who’s this guy here, off to the side? He’s in every video you made, and he doesn’t seem to be really paying much attention to the music.”
“Some creep who’s there just to get off to Chandler. He’s probably got a chub watching her walk around in those ‘fuck me’ heels,” KeeMac smirked at Chandler. This got another round of laughs out of the group who had finished off several rounds of celebratory shots.
They all called it a night and went to their own rooms, leaving Chandler to watch the videos now with renewed interest. She noticed the build and the clothes the stranger was wearing and wondered, “Do you think maybe that’s Ryder, in disguise?”
“No, babe, I don’t. Why in the hell would he even be there? He doesn’t know a fucking thing about you.”
“I know, but he’s about the right height and weight. But with the ball cap pulled so low and the sunglasses I can’t see his face.” She wanted to believe so badly it was him. “We can’t even see his tattoos with those long sleeves. Who wears long sleeves to an outdoor summer concert?”
“Chandler, don’t read more into it than is there. You’re setting yourself up for some shit to deal with and real disappointment.”
“I know, but I just want to talk to him so much I can hardly stand it. This is just unfair to be so close and still be so far away from him.”
“Come on babe, let’s go to bed. I bet I can take your mind off of it,” he slid his tongue up the side of her neck and lightly nipped just below her ear where she had reapplied perfume after her shower. She loved the scent and the way he always responded to it.
“Well, how can I resist being licked to death?” Anticipation was already apparent in her voice when she spoke.
“I’m going to lick somewhere else ‘til you beg me to stop, if you keep looking at me like that.”
Chandler took off in a sprint toward the bedroom, stripping as she went.
****
The show the next night was an even bigger night for AD. It was their second performance and t
hey were playing on a bigger stage and from the looks of the crowd, which had grown exponentially from the night before, the word was getting out quickly that Assured Distraction’s show was one not to miss. It was shaping up to be a phenomenal final night for them, and their energy was at an all-time high.
They weren’t looking forward to a long night on the bus since they would be heading out right after the show, ahead of the road crews even breaking down and loading their gear. Chandler’s melancholy hung around all day, and she wasn’t looking forward to doing the show. The only positive note was AD was opening for Steel so they might have at least a chance to cross Ryder’s path up-close again.
AD’s performance set the tone for Steel to play to a frantic audience and when they left the stage, Steel was standing in the wings offering congrats on their performance. Watching Chandler closely the entire time, Ryder made no attempt to speak directly with her. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, riveted to the spot as she turned to watch Steel’s members take the stage.
Cash barked orders at the band to stick with security until they were on the bus, which jolted Chandler out of her trance and she turned to leave. The madness of the festival crowd had set in with so many of their fans, and there was a huge crowd lingering in hopes of getting pictures or anything else they could get by with. Gunner was able to snag a few groupies that were more than willing to board the bus and get off somewhere down the road so an extra two girls moved in for the night. Cash made it clear they would be put in a car in the morning and sent back home. Carter was already jockeying for position hoping he would share.
Security waved down the bus to stop before they got out of the parking lot, and Paul Harper was standing at the gate waiting on them.
When he stepped on the bus, Paul glared at Chandler and then asked, “Cash, can I speak to you a moment before you go?” Cash prepared himself for another round of his bitching about their contact with Ryder when he walked off the bus, wondering what Chandler or the others may have tried when he wasn’t watching.
Chandler was ready to have a meltdown by the time Cash returned. “Chandler?” was all he said, tilting his head toward the door indicating that she should come outside with him. KeeMac stood up with her and took her hand, offering some encouragement before they stepped off the bus together behind Cash this time. When they reached street level, Paul wasted no time addressing her directly.
“It seems, Ms. Chatam, that you have caught Ryder Steel’s attention somehow. He wants to know if you would be willing to stay awhile longer and speak to him after the show. This, of course, in no way means he is agreeing to anything you have to say, or that he is acknowledging that there is even the remote possibility you are related to him. Do you understand that?”
His rudeness shocked her. All she had wanted was talk to him. “Yes, I understand. Surely you are aware, Mr. Harper, that I am not here to make any claims on Mr. Steel. I do not need his money, nor do I want his fame.” She held her head high, years of living with high-handed snobs had taught her how to handle herself. KeeMac and Cash both gave her a look of approval.
“That remains to be seen,” he shot back at her.
“It certainly does, Mr. Harper. It certainly does.” She would not give him the pleasure of having the last word on the subject. She turned quickly and returned to the bus. As much as she was infuriated by how he’d spoken to her, she was more focused on the information it delivered. She was finally going to meet her father.
Chandler could not hear the music, she was so nervous. KeeMac tried everything to calm her down, as they waited in the room backstage where security had taken them for the two hours they had to wait.
“Chan, please sit down. You’re making me fucking crazy.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her into his lap. “Let’s think about the new song we finished. Help me sing the lyrics.”
“You know I don’t sing.”
“OK, then let me sing it to you.” The song was slow and the melody was catchy, something that would linger in the minds of the listeners. She let the soothing sound of his deep voice carry the tune over her. The music helped her as it always did. When he reached the chorus, she joined in with him in a harmony that only added to the strange lilt the song had. By the time they were done, silent tears were rolling down her cheeks.
So much had happened in such a short amount of time: grieving for the loss of her parents and searching for the family she never knew about, she’d felt such a deep state of loneliness she never knew could exist. But KeeMac was there, and he held her close and spoke soothing words to her until the door to the room jerked open.
Ryder and Paul walked in, and Paul immediately began speaking, trying to lay down the terms of the meeting. “This will be only a brief meeting as Mr. Steel has to leave quickly.”
“Shut the fuck up, Paul.” He turned to Chandler who was now standing. “Excuse this jerk, he can’t help himself. I’m Ryder Steel, and you have to be Chandler Chatam,” he said, holding out his hand. When Chandler put hers in his, he held on to her soft skin with both hands.
He turned to KeeMac, and said, “You’re the front man for AD, right?”
Acknowledging his question with a nod of his head, KeeMac stuck out his hand and introduced himself but Ryder refused to let go of Chandler’s hand long enough to shake, so nods were exchanged instead.
“Let’s sit down. I’ve been standing for two fucking hours. Dammit, I hate feeling like an old man at my age,” he said with a chuckle. Chandler sat on the couch with KeeMac, and Ryder pulled up a chair in front of her, never letting go of her hand.
Chandler jumped right in despite the way her brain was in overload from touching him. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
“Princess, I didn’t even know you wanted to meet until I brought it up to this dickhead over here,” he said gesturing with a cocked head toward Paul, then continuing, “that the bands needed to get together since you were opening for us tonight.”
“I have a story to tell you, Mr. Steel.”
“Ryder, please, Princess,” and he hung on her beautiful smile, and she took a steadying breath and then eased her into the story.
“OK, Ryder. I grew up in Austin and D.C., raised by my parents, Catherine and Senator John Chatam. They died in a plane crash several weeks ago and my world fell apart. I had just started the tour with Assured Distraction and we were in Vegas when it happened. I flew home as quickly as I could, and spent days in a sea of arrangements and legal mess. Then their attorney came to me with a letter that changed my life, another 180-degrees from what had just happened when they died. The letter was written when I was two-years-old. It explained that I had been adopted, something that I had never known until that moment. It stated that my birth mother went to D.C., from her home near Austin, to live with her aunt when she was seventeen and she found out she was pregnant. She decided to put her baby, me, up for adoption, and that she wanted me to be adopted by a Texas-based family who could provide for me, since, apparently, she couldn’t. She refused to name who my father was to anyone, and since they adopted me at birth, my name has always been Chatam. She did give my father’s name to the attorney handling the adoption, though, in case any medical problems occurred. The name she gave was ‘Braxton Whitmore’.
Ryder sucked in a breath and eyed Chandler with uncertainty. “Please, continue.” The look in Ryder’s eyes unnerved her Chandler. Was he was saddened or angered by her story?
“That’s really all I have, sir. The only other thing I do know is, she told them my father never knew anything about me. And they were able to tell me that my birth mother was killed in a car wreck shortly after I was born.”
“Son of a bitch,” tumbled from his mouth. He stood abruptly and paced around the room like a mad man. Chandler didn’t know what to make of his reaction. She, KeeMac, and Paul just watched him in silence as he continued to storm back and forth across the room, muttering, ‘Lainey. Lainey,’ over and over, failing to acknowledge anyone else’s question
ing stares.
After some time, he finally turned to Paul, he said, “Let’s go.” Paul quickly pulled the door open and exited, and Ryder strode quickly after him pausing at the threshold only long enough to take a long-lingering look into Chandler’s questioning azure eyes. And then he was gone.
What just happened? Chandler couldn’t understand. Was he not Braxton Whitmore? Did she get it all wrong? KeeMac wrapped his arm around her when her knees buckled and she stared at the floor.
Keeton wasn’t sure he understood what had just taken place either, but said, “Let’s go, babe. Ryder’s a prick. Or, maybe he’s not Whitmore, and when he realized the hot young thing waiting to talk to him was looking for her father and not a lap to party in he just split. Whatever. Obviously, he must have been expecting some other kind of story, or this wasn’t what he bargained for, and he wasn’t interested in sticking around to find out the rest of it. You don’t need someone like that in your life. Good thing we just had this one show with them and we won’t have to see them again.”
He steered her out the door and held her close as they made their way back to where their bus was waiting on them. “Chandler, your father is out there somewhere and eventually we’ll find him. I know it’s hard but you have to know that Ryder isn’t him. Let’s just give it some time, babe.”
Chandler wasn’t sure about anything at this point, except that she felt an overwhelming need to find out about her father and the rest of her family. And she didn’t want to wait, no matter what Keeton said. If he wasn’t going to stand by her while she was going through this she would do it on her own, just as she had done everything her entire life.
When they got back, the female guests were dismissed from the bus, and the AD tour bus pulled out of Denver, headed for Austin.
Chandler curled up in a blanket on the couch, and pretended to watch TV. She wouldn’t engage in any conversation and seemed to prefer to be left alone. KeeMac kissed her temple and told her that he would be right back then wandered toward the front of the bus. He couldn’t find the words to express how Ryder’s treatment of her made him feel. She was so grief-stricken at this point he didn’t know what to do for her.