Taming Chaos

by Lynne St. James

  “Hi, I’m Cynda Pearson,” I lifted my hand to wave while trying to look professional. Pushing my glasses back up my nose I glanced around the room but my gaze was drawn back to him, the object of way too many fantasies over the last year.

  Chaos doesn’t look happy, none of them did. I’m guessing they aren’t too happy to see me after all. Not that I blamed them, but a job is a job and I needed this one. A chill ran down my spine and I shivered even though I felt sweaty. It was like an omen of things to come and I couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow my life was never going to be the same again.

  No one said a thing as Rod pushed me further into the room. A knot formed in my stomach the size of a tennis ball and I wondered again why mom thought this would be such a great job. Good thing she couldn’t see me now.

  “C’mon, guys. You know how to act better than this,” Rod said as he looked around the room. All of them avoided his eyes like he had the plague except for Chaos who looked like he’d take his head off if he could get away with it. Seeing his expression made my stomach churn more.

  “Yeah, right,” Chaos said and waved me over to the table where he was sitting. I clutched my iPad like it was a life preserver. Damn. Deep breaths, Cyn. You can handle this. I loosened my grip and reminded myself I wasn’t some awestruck groupie. He pushed a chair out with his foot and I sat across from him. The room was eerily quiet and I wondered what they were waiting for. I placed the iPad on the table and clasped my hands in my lap. I’d brought some notes I’d made for songs based on what he’d submitted to the record company, and hoped we’d be able to talk about them today, but from the way it was looking, it didn’t seem like that would be happening.

  “Cynda? That’s your name?”

  “Yes, it is, and you’re Trent right?”

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise, I guess he wasn’t used to hearing his ‘real’ name.

  “No one calls me Trent anymore.”

  “Right, okay then.” I pushed my glasses back up my nose as he leaned his chair back balancing on two legs. He was looking at me strangely, like I had two heads or something. I wondered if maybe my hair was sticking straight up or I was wearing some of my breakfast on my face. So yeah, being the girl I am, I touch my hair and try as discreetly as possible to run my hand across my mouth just in case a little toast crumb was making an appearance around my mouth. I should have looked in the mirror before I came in here. The tennis ball in my stomach grew a little bigger. I kind of understand why they wouldn’t be happy, I was an intruder into their little world, but still they didn’t have to act like asses, especially him. Can’t he see it’s just a job for me?

  “What makes you think you’re qualified to write songs for us? You don’t look like you know the first thing about pain, suffering, or love.”

  Feeling like he’d just smacked me in the face he definitely succeeded in knocking the nervousness right out of me and pushing me to the pissed off anger bunny, Michelle often called me. I guess pissed off is better than nervous. I could work with pissed. “You don’t know anything about me and you should definitely know not to judge someone by how they look. I know your background, about all of you.” Okay, the look from all of them was priceless and I felt a small victory with the shock written on their faces before the masks come back in place. “So you know what, fuck you, it doesn’t matter if you think I can write your songs, Symmetry does and that’s what matters.” I got up so fast the chair scraped across the floor and fell over. Promises or not, I didn’t need to be treated like this by anyone. I’d had enough already. Who the hell did he think he was? I grabbed my iPad and headed for the door.

  Rod reached out and held on to my arm stopping me from leaving. I was about to make a snide remark when I saw he wasn’t even looking at me, but instead having a stare down with Chaos. “Don’t be such an ass, Chaos. You do remember the contract you signed, right? You agreed to allow Symmetry final approval for all songs.”

  “Yeah, but only if my songs weren’t good enough and they’re fuckin’ fine. What do they know about what our fans want?”

  Rod’s hand was still on my shoulder and I wanted to shake it off, I was only a few feet from the doorway and freedom. I wanted to get out and slam the door but I couldn’t. Rod ‘the dickman’ Dixon, was my ride so I had no choice but to watch this play out, unless I wanted to stand outside and wait by the limo in the scorching heat. Of the two options this was definitely the better one.

  “They’re a huge record company, how do you think they got that way?” Rod asked calmly, like he was trying to explain something to a small kid, but I could hear the anger.

  Chaos looked frustrated, shoved his chair back and turned toward me. That’s when I noticed the towel wrapped around his hand. I wondered how he’d done that, and if it would stop him from playing guitar. Then I stopped myself, what did I care? I definitely needed to not care.

  I heard him grumble under his breath as he sat back down at the table. “Hey, I’m sorry. You’re right, just because I don’t like the idea of someone else writing our songs, it’s not your fault.”

  I nodded, finally I wasn’t the only one actually thinking. I’d done my research I knew he wasn’t stupid. He’d had a tough time until he met up with the others in the foster home. In interviews he always talked about how great the Shermans were, but his early years with his parents left some scars, and from what I could tell it’s what he used as inspiration for his music.

  “No problem,” I answered as I shook Rod’s hand off my shoulder and sat at the table. I knew this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought but hopefully the worst was over. “Mr. Warner gave me your songs and I made some notes. I thought we could go over them today before you leave on tour.”

  Chaos didn’t say anything, just looked at me like he was trying to see into my head. The others in the room had started talking again and I was glad not to feel like the center of attention, but the noise was like an annoying buzz. Rod had wandered off somewhere out of my line of sight, obviously thinking Chaos was going to give in on this, but I wasn’t so sure, he had a look on his face and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what he was thinking.

  My throat felt dry. The anger was melting and the nerves kicked back into high gear. Shit. Why I am I letting him get to me like this? Because he’s a rock star and for the last two years you’ve been drooling over his picture, that’s why. Yup, he’d been my secret crush since I’d come across their music. It had been incredible, and as much as I hated the whole idea of rock bands, their music grabbed me and never let me go. Sighing, I opened my iPad. “Listen, I don’t want to make this difficult, it’s my job and I need it. I’d rather work with you on the songs than write them myself. So what do you say?”

  I could almost see the wheels turning in his head before he opened his mouth. “Great idea,” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Rod, I’ll work with Cynda on one condition.” His gaze never leaving mine. “She has to come on tour with us. She needs to learn what we’re about, or no deal.”

  What the hell had he just said? Go on tour, oh no way, in fact not just no, but hell no. I couldn’t imagine a worse nightmare than being cooped up with a rock band on the road. I didn’t want that life. I’d seen what it did to people.

  “You’re crazy, you know that. I’m not going on tour with you like some kind of groupie.”

  “Are you afraid?” Chaos leaned across the table and teased me with a sexy grin. The smell of liquor on his breath caught me off guard and hit me like a cloud of stink. He reeked of alcohol at eleven in the morning? Was he an alcoholic? This job was turning in to my worst nightmare—on a bus with a rock band? Nope, I wasn’t going to do it.

  Damn promise. I need this job. Drunk rockers, groupies, and all. I couldn’t believe he’d suggested it. I’d probably have to do it or I’d be going back on my word. “No I’m not afraid, but it’s stupid. There’s no good reason for me to go on tour to write the songs. We can do it over Skype or email while I stay right here,
ever hear of the internet?”

  “Well then, no deal. We’ll hire a lawyer and get out of the contract…”

  I didn’t realize the dickman could move so fast, but before I’d finished saying no, Rod stood next to me at the table. “Are you out of your mind? That’d end everything for you. No tour, no new record. Do you think another record company will sign you if you pull shit like this?”

  “I don’t—we don’t—give a fuck actually. We made it once we can do it again, right?”

  A murmur of agreement made its way around the room.

  Damn. He was going to use me as an excuse for throwing away their future? Talk about laying on the guilt. They’d worked hard, put out an amazing album, and now he was having a hissy fit because he wasn’t getting his way? I knew he wasn’t happy but this isn’t how mature adults act, I don’t care if he was a drunk musician. I ached to say no, and let them throw it all away, but guilt set in. If I didn’t go and waited for another writing job was I bending my promise? I could almost hear her in my head, and I knew exactly what she’d say. “Fine…I’ll go, but not the whole tour. Two weeks. Take it or leave it.”

  Chaos looked triumphant, although I had no idea why. I wondered what horrible things he’d thought of to torture me with on this trip. “No problem.”

  Rod looked surprised I’d given in, but he just shrugged. “Not a problem, I can arrange everything.” He smirked when he met my eyes. “You’re going to have to sleep on the pull-out couch or one of the chairs. There aren’t any spare beds on the bus.”

  Oh yeah, dickman was enjoying this. I’m sure he thinks I’m just a groupie after all. I’ve slept in worse places, I’d deal with it. It’d only be two weeks anyway.

  Chaos grinned, and it lit up his whole face. Yup, there was the sexy hunk I’d been drooling over. I was going to have to be careful and make sure I keep those thoughts to myself. “We’re kicking off the tour at the Garden on Friday night. The bus is leaving here at eleven.”

  “I live in the city so how about I meet you there after the show?”

  “Nope, I want you backstage so you can see what it’s like. You need to know what we go through and how the fans react to be able to write for us. If you want to meet us there fine but be there for the sound check at two.”

  Nodding, I figured it’d still be better than taking the train out to Jersey again and having to get dickman to pick me up or take a cab. Going straight to Madison Square Garden would be one subway ride and so much easier. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

  “Good. We’ll see you tomorrow. Sorry if it seems like we’re kicking you out, but we need to rehearse for tonight’s show. It’s our last gig before we start the ‘official’ tour and we want to blow them away.”

  “Sure you are,” I murmured under my breath. I was tempted to stay for tonight’s show, but one glance at Chaos’s face told me it’d be a bad idea. I needed to get the hell out of here. I must have lost my mind to agree to go on tour with the band. Hmm. Maybe my insanity started when I took the damn job. I hate this business. I’d resented the rock n’ roll business for as long as I could remember, so of course where do I go to get a job—Symmetry records, his record company. Tears pushed at the back of my eyes. Maybe waiting by the car was a better idea. The last thing I need is for any of them to think I’m weak. Chaos would roll right over me. Damn. Mom, you’d better be happy about this. She would have told me everything would be okay and to not give up, but going on tour? I wonder what she’d think of this.

  Chapter Three

  Chaos

  I knew I was being rude to Cynda and as she turned to leave I felt a pang of guilt. It wasn’t her fault she was caught up in this as much as we were. A power play with the fucking record company, and it looked like freakin’ Rod was on their side. I didn’t get it really, what was their fuckin’ problem. My songs were good. They’d be hits if they’d give us a chance to record them. It’s not like we lacked material, our fucked up family lives and the foster care system had supplied plenty, well until we’d all ended up at the Sherman’s. They were the closest thing to real parents any of us had and we’d do anything for them. Shit. I was going to have to fucking forget all of it for now, the Sherman’s were coming tonight and it’ll be the first time they’d seen us play in a couple of years, we wanted them to be proud of us. I’d have to friggin’ figure out how to fix all of this later, but for now no fuck ups before tonight’s gig.

  Rod said something to Rage before he left, probably telling him to tone it down tonight. If he didn’t fucking back off Rage, he was going to be sorry. One of these days he was going to blow up and none of us wanted to be around when that happened. But at least Rod was gone, sometimes I wondered what the fuck we’d been thinking when we signed with him to be our manager, he’s such a douche. It always seemed like he did what Symmetry wanted and didn’t push for us. What the fuck was up with that? Then there was Cynda Pearson, I he couldn’t imagine anyone less fucking likely to be able to write songs for us, so why had they really sent her? She wasn’t a rocker chic. Hell, when she walked in I thought Rod had it wrong. I’d expected a guy, but Cynda, damn. She looked so young, like a high school kid. Her clothes hadn’t helped, jeans and a sweater that completely covered her up and it was like ninety degrees outside, how fucking weird was that? With her long brown hair, the bangs, and glasses, she looked like the nerds from high school. She didn’t even look twenty-one, was she even old enough to be in a bar? But when she looked at me with those huge emerald green eyes, fire had raced through me and right to my cock. I’d never reacted to a woman like that before, it was like I’d been struck by lightning. I didn’t know if it was the scotch I’d had or just being pissed off, but being so close to her for the next few weeks was going to be fucking interesting.

  “Chaos?”

  “Yeah?”

  Wrath looked at me strangely, “You okay?”

  “Yup, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I’ve been talking to you for almost five minutes and you haven’t said a word.”

  “No way.”

  Shaking his head, he shrugged. “Are we going to practice or you gonna to sit here and stare at the fuckin’ wall some more?”

  I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but he was right. We needed to get on stage and do the sound check so we were ready for tonight. “Yeah, c’mon let’s go.”

  As soon as I stepped onto the stage my aggravation melted. It was my favorite place to be and it didn’t matter if there was an audience or not. This was my real home. Everything—all the emotions I kept bottled up—came out while I was on stage. Writing and singing was my fucking escape. All the hate and anger seething inside came out and I always felt better afterwards. Definitely better than any fucking mandatory therapy session we’d had to go to. I was pretty sure the rest of the guys felt the same way too. We were tight, closer than most real brothers.

  Grabbing my Strat I hooked the brown leather strap over my shoulder and smiled as I ran my hand over the beautiful guitar. I still couldn’t fuckin’ believe she was mine. We’d started with instruments from the pawn shop and as we’d made money we’d bought better equipment. It had taken until last year, after we’d made platinum with the first album, for me to finally buy Eleanor. Finished in a tobacco sunburst with a rosewood fingerboard, she was my baby. I’d called her Eleanor because getting her was like a fuckin’ dream come true, just like Nicholas Cage in the movie Gone in 60 Seconds and his Eleanor, the grey mustang he’d fucking chased until the end.

  Our names were based on our personalities when we’d first gotten to the Sherman’s. It reminded us of where we’d come from, but it’d been a fuckin’ crapshoot when we’d chosen our instruments. We’d been fuckin’ clueless when we’d picked them up in the pawn shop, except for Fury, he’d been amazing on bass from the first time he played it. Wrath played the rhythm guitar, and they stood next to me on stage. Flame burned up the keyboards, and was off to the left of the drums. Rage was a natural on drums, in the beginning he’d beat on
them so hard we’d have to replace his sticks after every practice but eventually he’d done better controlling his anger. I knew most of his story but none of us knew all of it. Sweets and Candy stood off to the right. Once everyone was in place, I nodded at Rage to count us in.

  The spotlight slid over me, as I belted out the lyrics of our number one hit, “Left Behind”. The words poured from me like they were part of me. I became Chaos the rocker, gone was the insecure boy who I kept hidden deep inside. As long as I was singing I was free, to feel, to yell, and celebrate my anger, and my joy.

  Fury, Wrath, and I moved all around the stage, making sure to get as close to the edge as possible. We wanted to be up close and personal with our fans. Hell, it’s what we fucking lived for. The set went quick and as fast as we’d started it was over. It was a good rehearsal. I could see Sean, our soundman, rocking out during the set. When we were on no one could touch us, and I needed to make sure we stayed that way.

  As the last note faded away a few of the employees from The Shaggy Dog cheered and clapped—that sound would never get friggin’ old. “I think we nailed it.”

  Rage tossed his drumsticks in the air and caught them. “Hell yeah we did. We were fuckin’ on.”

  Everyone looked happy except Sweets. Something was definitely bugging the girl and it didn’t look like I’d be able to fuckin’ put it off until later. I didn’t want it affecting her performance tonight if I could help it. Something was going on and I needed everyone to be on tonight, especially since Sally and Jack Sherman were going to be in the audience. They’d done so much for us. It was important for them to see that we’d taken what they’d taught us and turned our lives around.