Chart Toppers (Star Maker Book 3)

by J. M. Nevins

  Kit laughed. “Me too. Buck up little camper, you know those guys are going to want to party when they see we’re in town and have brought a bunch of new friends for them to meet.”

  She chuckled. “New friends of the shiny happy awards variety. Good point.” She made herself more comfortable on her side of the limo and sipped her coffee.

  Their limousine pulled into the arena and parked behind a pack of limousines that were quietly assembled. The drivers stood around smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee and talking. Kit chuckled knowing that within the hour, every single one of them would be behind the wheel, car idling, exhaust ascending to the rafters, waiting for go time. They would use their supreme powers of navigation to avoid hitting or maiming screaming fans who threw themselves at their vehicles containing members of the band. She didn’t envy their job.

  Kit and Giselle got out and headed up to the backstage area. Gypsy Tango could be heard up on stage and their song ‘Road Warrior,’ echoed loudly through the halls. A security guard stopped them. They both flashed their all access passes, and when he noticed who they were, he promptly got on his walkie-talkie, flagging them ahead rapidly. Moments later, Sean appeared out of nowhere.

  He hugged Kit and then Giselle. “Ladies, great to see you.”

  Kit gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You too, Sean-Bon.” She had started using that nickname with him during their last world tour after he teased her on a drunken evening that Kit-Kat was merely a candy bar. She thought Sean-Bon sounded like Bon-Bon, also a type of candy. She started using it, and it stuck.

  She nodded to him. “Babe, we need a bodyguard on our limo. I want it off limits to everyone. Put that limo on lockdown. We’ve got some very important ladies waiting in that car if you know what I mean.”

  He nodded and smiled. “Damn, Kit. You cleaned up. How many do you got in there?”

  She giggled. “Seven. And nothing can happen to those girls. Guard that shit. Get on the horn now!”

  He laughed and got on his walkie-talkie, sending two bodyguards to the limo to make sure no one entered the back of the car. He nodded. “Ok, Kit-Kat, you’re set. C’mon back.”

  She quickened her step so that she was walking side by side with him. She leaned over speaking in a hushed tone for discretion. “How’s his voice?”

  He shook his head. “Not good. The specialist arrives tomorrow?”

  “Yes. He’s supposed to be here way before soundcheck so he can take a look at Sully in our room. Vocal coach will be there too.”

  “Good. So, if you knew about the awards, I take it you guys watched the broadcast?”

  He grinned. “Some of us did.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Is this all part of the tremor in the force thing you were talking about with the band not getting along?”

  “Maybe. Who knows for sure? Remo and Jimmy weren’t there. They were out partying at some club with a bunch of groupies. Sull, Bry, Tony and I were watching it in my room.”

  “And?”

  He laughed. “And they went nuts. I will say this much, it put them all in good spirits, so they were getting along today, which was refreshing for a change.”

  “Good.”

  At this point, they had reached the backstage area. Kit removed her coat and handbag in the dressing room and headed up to the side of the stage with Sean and Giselle in tow.

  She folded her arms across her chest and watched Sully. He appeared to be having a grand old time out on the stage, but when he went to the higher register in his vocal range, she could hear the strain. She felt her heart sink. She knew it had to be messing with his confidence. She shook her head and looked at Sean exchanging a silent understanding. He nodded sadly. She shook her head again and walked away, headed back down to the dressing room.

  She stood at the bar and made herself a stiff drink. She could still hear the performance. He was struggling. Hearing him push his voice was painful for her to hear. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and forced herself to calm down. She knew he was probably scared to death about his voice. The last thing he needed was her freaking out about it too. She had to put on a poker face for him and become his biggest cheerleader.

  By the time she had knocked back a few drinks and composed herself, the band was finishing their last encore. She knew Sully would be in the dressing room backstage momentarily.

  Giselle had the bodyguards bring up the awards. She and Kit hurried to set the Grammys on the table in the dressing room so the band would see them when they walked in. They high-fived each other as they heard the last notes of the song finish, waiting anxiously for the band to materialize before them.

  Sean walked in and smiled at the site before him. “I love it.”

  The band stumbled in moments after Sean. Kit laughed as their eyes first went to her and then to the Grammys trying to figure out who they should run to first.

  She giggled. “Go ahead, boys. Your ladies are waiting for you.”

  The guys pounced on their awards while Sully made a beeline for her. He kissed her and wrapped himself around her. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “You’re here! This is the best surprise ever!” He kissed her and gazed into her eyes. “We did it, babe. We won, and it’s all because of you.”

  She smiled. “I think you guys had something to do with it too. I can’t make an album all by myself.”

  He chuckled. “Good point.”

  She motioned to the table. “Why don’t you go meet your pretty lady?”

  He giggled and gazed into her eyes. “You won’t mind, huh? Don’t be jealous now.”

  She shook her head and grinned. “I promise, I won’t be. I’ve got a lady of my own, you know.” She winked.

  The moment Sully broke free from Kit, the band charged toward her, showering her with one armed hugs, balancing a Grammy in their other hand while kissing her. She laughed. They were relentless.

  Giselle popped open a few bottles of champagne, and the band didn’t hesitate to spray her, Kit and themselves with it. The mood was all around festive. As Kit watched them interact, she wondered what Sean had been so concerned about. They seemed to be getting along just fine.

  Kit remained snuggled up to Sully on the sofa until the very last minute. A knock on the door served as a dismal reminder of what they both didn’t want to face, but knew they had to. She headed to the door and greeted Sully’s throat specialist from Los Angeles, Dr. Franklin.

  “Hey, Doc. Thanks for making the trip.”

  He forced a grin. “No problem.” He focused his attention on Sully as he stood in front of him and extended his hand, nodding as he shook his hand silently. The doctor surveyed him closely. “That bad, huh? Are you feeling worse than you were two years ago?”

  Sully nodded silently.

  Dr. Franklin looked at Kit. “Did he perform last night?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. His voice sounded strained, especially when he hit his higher register. He was hoarse by the end of the show.”

  Sully looked at her and cocked his head to the side giving her a surprised look that she had paid so much attention to the state of his voice the night before and had not mentioned anything to him.

  He shifted his attention back to his patient. “Why don’t you take a seat, Sully? We’ll get you all checked out.”

  As the doctor started his examination, Kit picked up the phone and called Sean. “He’s here. C’mon over.”

  “I will in a sec. I’m going to go fetch the vocal coach from downstairs. He just arrived.”

  Kit sat across the table watching Sully being observed by Dr. Franklin. As he was doing the final part of his examination, Kit could see that Sully was getting antsy and wanted it to be over with. Sean and the vocal coach stood on the other side of the room speaking in hushed tones.

  Dr. Franklin finished and shared his attention between Sully and Kit. He sighed. “It’s not good.” He glanced at Kit. “How many shows do they have left?”

  She couldn’t mask the concern on her face or the furr
owed brow that wouldn’t go away. “They have two more shows here in London, then seven shows in South America and a whole leg in North America. They’ll be on the road until May fifteenth. Can he make it?”

  The doctor nodded but did not look optimistic. “He can. I can give him steroids for his vocal chords and work with a vocal coach is good, but it’s not a permanent solution. This is going to keep happening. He needs surgery. He’s got two polyps on his vocal chords. It’s pretty serious. If this isn’t taken care of within a reasonable amount of time, there could be permanent damage to his voice. Also, there is a chance the polyps could be cancerous. We can’t be sure until they’re removed.”

  Sully’s eyes widened, and he looked at Kit. She reached across the table for his hand, trying to remain calm and keep her poker face on despite her mounting fears. She shifted her attention back to the doctor. “Ok, so what is the short term solution?”

  “Vocal rest as much as possible. If he uses his voice for performances and coaching only and gets the steroid shots when needed, his vocal chords should hold up until he’s done with the tour. I want to schedule him for surgery today.”

  Kit nodded. “I’ll call your office myself. Performances and coaching only—no soundchecks, correct?”

  “Correct.” He looked at Sully. “You need to rest. Exhaustion and dehydration are exacerbating your condition. I understand you’re on tour, but you have to take care of yourself, or you may end up in the hospital.”

  Sully stared at the doctor and nodded solemnly. The doctor promptly administered a steroid injection to Sully and then shifted his attention to Kit. “And you’ll call the office to schedule the surgery?”

  “Yes.”

  Sully waved to get his attention and scribbled something on a piece of paper. The doctor read it and looked at him. “I can’t predict how the surgery will go at this point, but you are out of alternatives. You still have a few more months on the road, and it will depend on how your vocal chords have faired. I’ll be able to give you a more accurate assessment when you come in for surgery.”

  Sully nodded sadly and shifted his eyes down while Kit stood up to walk the doctor out. Sean exchanged a look of concern with her as she left the room.

  She walked down the hallway with the doctor, hoping to glean more information. “I understand that he has to have the surgery, but I think he’s afraid of it. This is his livelihood. It’s what he loves to do.”

  Dr. Franklin nodded his head. “That’s usually the case with most of my celebrity vocalists. Kit, I can tell you that the success rate has been pretty high in most cases. I’m hoping it’s the same for him, but I won’t know until I get him into surgery in May.”

  She nodded her head. “Ok. Thanks again for making the trek out here. We appreciate it.”

  He stepped onto the elevator and forced a grin. “See you soon, Kit.”

  The elevator doors shut and she sighed. She shook her head, thinking this had to be some cruel joke. They were at the height of their popularity. They had just won a Grammy for album of the year, and now he had to have vocal surgery. It all seemed too twisted to comprehend, and she felt completely uneasy.

  She returned to the room where Sean was on the phone and the vocal coach talked with Sully. He was listening intently and nodding, fully engaged in the conversation although only whispering.

  Sean hung up the phone and turned his attention to Kit. “Can you check with us today until we figure out a solution? Jimmy’s been quite dodgy lately, and I’m not certain he’s the right candidate anyway.” She reluctantly nodded her head in agreement while Sean continued. “Kit, does he need to have the surgery?”

  She lowered her voice. “Yes, it’s bad.” She shook her head, feeling overcome by remorse. “I should have come out here sooner. He told me at Christmas that he wasn’t feeling good. I thought he was just tired and being overly sensitive. I didn’t realize it was this bad. He didn’t lead onto it specifically.” She glanced over at Sully. “He seems to be listening to what the vocal coach has to say.”

  Sean nodded. “This coach is a good one. You got one of the best in the biz. I’ve heard about him, but how did you get him?”

  “I called Clive Davis. He gave me the guy’s number. Said he was the ultimate. He just finished working with Crimson Harris.”

  “That guy has a killer voice!”

  She nodded. “Yep, he does. The coach was telling me he’s seen cases like this before and that he can help Sully. The timing is ironic, though. Right after our Grammy win?” She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Truth is stranger than fiction, Sean.”

  He chuckled. “No shit.”

  She glanced at her wristwatch. “I gotta call the doctor’s office to get this appointment for Sully. What time are we checking?”

  “Five.” He held up his finger. “Only one song today.”

  She sighed. Doing Sully’s soundcheck for him was the last thing she wanted to be doing, but knew they were out of options. “Ok. I’ll be there.”

  The band assembled on stage, getting comfortable in their places and adjusting their instruments to make sure they were just right. They watched Kit carefully as she strolled onto the stage, happy to see her and completely unaware of the fact of why she was there instead of their lead singer.

  She walked up to Sully’s mic and glanced over at Jimmy, who was staring at her. He raised his eyebrows. “So, is the king of the castle blowing us off today? Has something better to do than a soundcheck with the commoners?”

  She refused to feed into his sarcasm. “He can’t make it, Jim.”

  He snorted and glared. “Oh and here goes the star treatment, primadonna shit again!”

  Remo chimed in, twirling his drumstick. “No big, it’s not like he’s been hitting those notes lately anyway. You’re the one doing that for him, Jimmy.”

  Tony couldn’t sit back passively now. He had to toss his hat into the swirling ring of negativity too. “Yeah, that’s because his balls finally dropped.”

  They all laughed loudly. Kit spun around and glared at each of them. “Shut the fuck up! Are we here to soundcheck or bash the leader of this band? It’s not easy to be a frontman. I’d like to see any one of you try it. How old are you guys anyway? Shit, it’s like dealing with ten-year-olds. I told you he couldn’t be here and I’m stepping in, case closed. Let’s get to work! You hear me? Now, what song are we doing?”

  They stared at her with shocked expressions, resembling ashamed children that had been scolded for their bad behavior. Jimmy was the exception to the rule. He remained unfazed as he glared at her, his defiance still fully intact. “Why does he have you doing all his dirty work, huh, Kit-Kat? Was that part of the agreement when you two got married? Is he too big a star these days to bother?”

  She had reached her boiling point and was determined to put a stop to the trash talking. She marched up to Jimmy until her face was mere inches away from his. Her green eyes narrowed dangerously, and when she spoke, her tone was curt and angry. “What the fuck is your problem, huh Jim? You’ve had a stick up your ass since I got here. You guys just won a Grammy, and you’re the one afraid it’s gone to his head?” She let out a sarcastic chuckle, shook her head and met his eyes again. “Look in the mirror, Jimmy.”

  Her emerald eyes continued to glow with rage as she surveyed the rest of the band. “I am sick of this shit from all of you! Don’t think I haven’t heard about what’s gone on out here on the road. There are eyes and ears that report to me, and I am not referring to the lead singer that all of you love to hate right now. I suggest you all start acting like professionals.” She turned on her heel and walked back to Sully’s mic. When nothing happened, she pointed at Remo and yelled, “Dammit! Count it off!”

  After soundcheck, Kit left the stage, still angry. Sean ran to catch up with her. “You ok?”

  She shook her head. “You weren’t kidding were you? They’re monsters. What the hell?”

  Sean shrugged his shoulders. “Kit, that’s them b
eing nice and on their best behavior. It’s been a whole lot worse than that. Usually Remo and Tony are yelling at each other, Bryan keeps to himself and Jimmy and Sully are usually egging each other on, but not in a good way.”

  Kit pulled out a cigarette and Sean lit it for her. She took a drag, exhaled slowly and closed her eyes, massaging her temples, then promptly stubbed it out finding it made her feel nauseated. “This is all turning into one huge nightmare that’s giving me a very big headache. I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

  Bryan approached them and put his hand on Kit’s shoulder. He looked at her, and she could see remorse in his kind gray eyes. “Hey, Kit. I’m sorry about all that.”

  She forced a grin and put her hand atop his. “Thanks, Bry. Just be a pro, ok? That’s all I ask. You’re the best keyboard player and performer out there, and we need to see that from you. You’re part of the glue that holds this band together. Don’t let me down.”

  He nodded. “I won’t. Is G back at the hotel?”

  She nodded. “Yep.”

  Sean watched Bryan walk away, headed toward the exit, to make his way down to where the limos were. “He’s so in love with her. Seems things are working out.”

  She nodded. “So far so good. Bryan is the least of my worries right now. He’s easy to manage. You’re telling me Jimmy’s a problem out here on the road, and I can tell you that his life back home is in shambles. Is he using?”

  Sean sighed. “He wasn’t at first but then it became a bump here and a bump there and the demand seems to have picked up significantly. I don’t know for sure, however. Jimmy’s one of those guys who uses for a little while and then cuts it out. He seems to be partying hard, though.”

  She searched his eyes. “Is he screwing around on Diana?”

  He shook his head. “Honestly, I dunno. I’ve seen the normal groupie stuff—the girls hanging on him, flirting, maybe kissing him, but that’s all I’ve seen. He seems to cut ‘em off before anything gets out of hand. As far as I know he’s kept his dick in his pants, but don’t quote me on that.” He pointed to her.