by B. B. Hamel
9
Delia
As it turns out, even for rock stars, the majority of touring is really, really boring.
After the hotel room at Austin, we get into the bus and drive out toward Fayetteville, Arizona. I feel like we’re ping-ponging around, and when I mentioned that to Nathan, he just shrugged.
“You get used to it,” he says while picking at an acoustic guitar.
I try to sleep, but the bunk beds are teeny tiny. I can barely move around and I’m constantly paranoid I’m going to smash my head. Landon gives me an apologetic look as I toss and turn.
“You get used to them,” he says.
“There’s a lot I have to get used to,” I grumble to myself as the miles tick past.
The thing is, I’ve toured before. I done this song and dance, although my tour bus was a van. It was way less comfortable for me back then to tour. These guys have everything at their fingertips.
And it still sucks. That’s the part about being a professional musician that nobody tells you. The whole thing is boredom, frustration, second guessing, punctuated with moments of sheer bliss.
For the most part, it’s boring as hell, until it isn’t. Then it’s the best thing in the entire freaking world.
We make it to Fayetteville with plenty of time. The guys are in a good mood at soundcheck. I sit off to the side on top of an amp and watch them go through their routine.
Chase is focused, but I catch his glances. He’s looking at me, and I know what he’s thinking about. I’ve been thinking about it too, although I’m trying not to. I don’t really understand it or how it happened.
It was so sudden. One second, we’re sitting there and the next, my legs are spread and he’s giving me the best orgasm of my life.
I blush thinking about it like a little girl. It’s not like he’s the first guy to go down on me, but he’s the first guy to really make me feel… you know.
He’s the first guy to get me off with his tongue.
There, it’s weird to admit it. I’ve orgasmed before in the past but never like that. I’ve always been too uptight, too nervous, or he just wouldn’t know what he’s doing down there.
With Chase, it was natural. And he seemed to know exactly what I needed. Every time something felt really good, he’d keep going at it until I needed something else. It was almost scary, how good it felt and how easily he managed my body.
I don’t know why I let it happen. I don’t understand any of this.
I look down at my finger, at the gold band I’m wearing, and back up at Chase. He smiles and winks at me as he runs through a scale on his bass. I smile back, not sure what I’m feeling.
And that’s what scares me the most.
I wasn’t supposed to feel any type of way about him. I mean, I know I used to have a crush on him, and I’m impressed by his band, but… this is supposed to be business.
We get married, we pretend to be in love, and that’s it. I get a recording contract and he gets the world thinking he’s a great guy.
I don’t know why I thought it would be so simple.
“Great show!” I say to Chase as he comes off stage. He’s sweating and grinning. I know what he feels right now, that elation and rush. The crowd’s still out there, screaming for more.
“Thanks,” he says, and kisses my cheek. “For the press,” he whispers in my ear.
I nod and smile at him. There are reporters around backstage, there always are, so we have to be on our game.
We head back toward the green room but Karl intercepts the guys. “We have ten minutes before we’re on the move,” he calls out.
Nathan groans. “Shit. I almost forgot.”
I look at Chase. “What’s this?”
“We have this fucking industry party to go to.” He makes a face. “I don’t really get why it’s in freaking Nowheresville, but whatever.”
“Because the labels are based here,” Karl barks at Chase. “Now gets your asses ready.”
Chase sighs and salutes Karl at the same time. I laugh a little as the guys head back to the green room. Instead of being filled with groupies and alcohol, it’s entirely empty.
The guys use the bathroom and get changed. I sit on a couch, sipping water. When Chase is ready, he walks over. “You coming?” he asks.
I shrug. “I guess so.”
“Come on. You should. It’ll be good for you.”
“Why?”
“It’s an industry thing. I’ll introduce you to people.”
I bite my lip. “I guess I should network, right?”
“Right. Use me as much as you can.” He grins and winks.
I roll my eyes, but I know he’s right. While I’m here, I should be using this opportunity to make contacts.
When the guys are all set, we head out. Karl sneaks us out the back and there’s a van waiting already. We pile inside, including Karl, who looks unhappy sitting in the front seat with the driver.
“You boys remember Max,” Karl says from the front seat. “He’s been scouting some rock acts for his new label, an offshoot of his main country act. You boys aren’t interested in his little bullshit thing but it’s good to show up and smile, make Somesuch sweat a bit.”
Chase grins at me. “Max Max,” he whispers in my ear.
“What?”
“His name’s Max Max. Insane, right?”
Karl glares at Chase. “Be on your best behavior. There will be other people here you might want to talk to, but honestly, guys, I don’t give a shit what you do.”
“So why make us come?” Joss asks.
“Because it’s good for your careers,” Karl grunts at him.
“Fuck our careers,” Landon calls out.
Karl sighs. “You’re all going to be the death of me.”
“Aw, Karl.” Joss grins at him. “Don’t be so down. We’ll kill it.”
“Whatever,” Karl grumbles, looking forward, and the guys all laugh.
We reach the party not too long later. It’s at this enormous white mansion on the outskirts of town. It looks like a freaking plantation, and the driveway is practically the length of two football fields.
We clamber out up front and head inside. The place is packed, and Chase stays right next to me as we wade into the people. Landon and Joss make a beeline for the drinks while Nathan gets pulled into a conversation with two older guys with white hair.
“Welcome to your first industry party,” Chase says to me as we maneuver our way through the crowd. He smiles and nods at a few people, but he doesn’t stop.
“Who are all these people?”
“Producers, entertainers, that sort of crap. Some of them are executives, those are the ones you want to avoid.”
“Why?”
“They’re the most boring.” He gives me a grin and grabs two glasses of champagne from a nearby waitress’s tray. He hands me one and we toast.
We make our way out back. There’s a pool, but nobody’s swimming. People are milling about, although fewer of them here.
“Chase!” A deep voice barks through the night. Chase practically winces as a guy with a Kangol hat and sunglasses comes toward him. “Chase, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“The same thing I’m always doing, Max,” he says. “Having a great time.”
Max Max laughs wildly and puts an arm around Chase. The man is a little shorter than Chase, with wild white hair shoved down under the Kangol, wrinkled tan skin, and a gold chain around his neck. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy that would own a record label, let alone a country label.
“And who is this young lady?” Max asks. “This isn’t the famous wife, is it?”
“Max, meet Delia,” Chase says.
I shake the man’s hand. It’s limp and somewhat wet. “Nice to meet you,” I say, giving him my best smile.
“Pretty girl,” he says, nodding at Chase with an approving smile.
I want to gag.
“She’s more than pretty,” Chase says. “She’s actually
talented as hell. Way more talented than me.”
“Oh, yeah?” He arches an eyebrow. “What’s she do?”
Of course they’re talking about me like I’m not right here.
“Singer-songwriter,” Chase says. “She played an original during our encore last night and totally fucking killed the house.”
“No kidding?” Max finally looks at me again, tipping down his sunglasses. “You got a demo?” he asks me.
I look at Chase, who smiles at Max. “We’ll send you something,” he says.
“Perfect. Well, you two enjoy yourselves. I’m off to hobnob with these fuckers.” Max slips away and shouts someone else’s name, walking over to them quickly.
“That’s Max Max, huh,” I say to Chase.
“He’s a little…” He trails off and shrugs. “He’s a big douche.”
I laugh and sip my drink. “I noticed.”
“But he’s connected, and his label is for real.”
“Think he’ll listen to my stuff?”
“Absolutely. Can’t hurt, right?”
I nod a little, heart beating faster. “Right.”
He grins at me. “Come on. Let’s meet some more people.”
We move through the crowd and Chase starts to introduce me to one person after another. I meet producers, engineers, microphone designers, guitar salesmen, promoters, radio hosts, and more. Anyone involved in the music industry seems to be here, in this weird house on the outskirts of Fayetteville, Arizona.
I don’t know how he got all these people to come to his house, but Max Max must be for real if they all made the trip.
After an hour of this, I start to lose track of who I’ve met. Chase seems to know everyone and is best friends with them all. He smiles and knows their names and even asks about their families sometimes. He’s clever and kind and quick with a joke.
He makes me feel pale by comparison. I try and keep up but I’m totally overwhelmed. I’m not used to this kind of networking, where you’re just rapid-fire meeting people and trying to make a brief connection. I’m doing my best, but it’s a lot to process all at once.
After meeting yet another producer, I squeeze Chase’s hand. “I need a break,” I say.
“Okay. Want to go sit down somewhere?”
“No, I mean, just alone for a few minutes if that’s okay.”
He frowns a little. “Of course, you can do whatever you want.”
“Thanks.”
“Find me when you’re ready.”
“I will.” I give him a grateful smile and hurry away.
I weave through the party. I spot Landon talking with a thin, pretty blonde woman. Karl is animatedly explaining something to a radio DJ I met earlier, and Nathan is engaged in a group of old white-haired men who look extremely dour.
Probably executives, based on the bored look in Nathan’s eyes.
I manage to get to the bar. There are a few stools arranged around it, like a normal bar. I take a seat next to a young woman with deep green eyes and pretty auburn hair. She smiles at me as I order a gin and tonic.
“You look familiar,” she says, “although everyone in this room looks familiar on some level.”
I laugh a little and take the drink from the bartender. “I know what you mean.”
“Seriously.” She purses her lips, squints her eyes. “Who are you?”
“Delia.” I hold out my hand.
The girl shakes it. “Ava.”
“Nice to meet you.”
She watches me for a second, eyes still squinted, and then shrugs. “Whatever. I can’t place you.”
“That’s okay. I don’t know who you are, either.”
She laughs lightly and sips her glass of wine. “Nobody wants to know me, don’t worry.”
“What do you do?”
“Oh god, everything,” she says, sighing. “What about you?”
“Musician,” I say.
“One of Max’s acts?”
“Nope, still free at the moment.”
She laughs lightly. “Good luck with that.”
“You’d think I could find someone to give me a deal in here,” I say wryly. “Seems like everyone’s more concerned with looking cool than listening to music.”
She laughs again. “That’s the music industry in a nutshell. Lots of posturing, lots of people worrying about their image.”
“Lots of old guys worrying about getting older.”
She laughs again at that, a slight surprised tilt to her smile. “I like that. What’s your name again?”
“Delia.”
“Ava.” She takes a breath and lets it out. “I don’t know how Max got all these people out here, honestly.”
“I was thinking that same thing. How’d you end up here?”
“I was here covering the Slide concert and just figured I’d come on out.”
“What did you think of it?” I ask, that comment not really registering with me. I guess it’s probably the champagne, or maybe the fact that Ava is the first person to make me feel comfortable here.
“It was good,” she says. “Those guys are pretty amazing.”
“They really are,” I say stupidly. “I’ve been such a big fan of theirs for a long time.”
“Oh, really, you’re a fan?”
“Massive fan. Their manager is a little scary, but whatever.”
She laughs lightly, leans closer. “I hear he only signed these guys because he thought Joss was attractive.”
I make a face. “I doubt it. I mean, Joss is very hot, but Karl doesn’t seem like the type.”
“True, true.” Ava shrugs a little. “Who knows, anyway. The guys could all be… you know.”
“What, gay?” I make a face. “Well, Joss is married and I know for a fact that Chase isn’t gay. Maybe the other two.”
She laughs again, nodding her head. “So you’re a victim of the famous Chase charm?”
“I wouldn’t call it victim…” I say, trailing off.
She stares at me for a second. “Oh,” she says after a second. “Oh. Delia.”
“Yep.” I grin at her.
“You’re the wife.”
“Bingo.”
“The last-minute wife.”
I wince at that. “We kept it private and small for a reason.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Chase doesn’t want his private life out there, and I’ve been trying to stay under the radar.”
“Even though you’re a performer yourself?” She shrugs a little. “I thought you would’ve been around before, you know, if you guys were together. I guess not, if you were keeping it private.”
I frown at that. “What we do is nobody’s business.”
“Very true, Delia, very true.” She shrugs a little, leaning in my direction. “Honestly, I don’t really care what you two do, but everyone’s gossiping about it.”
My cheeks turn a little red. “Gossiping?”
“You know,” she waves her hand a little, gesturing vaguely at the crowd. “All about Chase’s past and all that. How it’s a little strange this happens right after that awful interview came out on TMI about his, uh… preferences.”
My embarrassment slowly starts to morph into anger. I don’t know who this woman is, but she’s starting to piss me off. And to think, I felt like she was the only decent one in this place.
“So what?” I snap. “That stupid interview was just a bunch of lies from a girl trying to get a little fame.”
“Sure, sure,” she concedes. “And we all know TMI pays for a good story, so there’s more incentive to lie.”
“Exactly. That whole thing has nothing to do with me and Chase.”
“Still though,” she muses, twirling her drink almost absently. “There are rumors about him, really recent ones. You know, how he likes to get around and all that. If you two have been serious enough to actually get married…” She raises an eyebrow at me.
“What are you implying?”
“Nothing, really. Just wonde
ring if you two have some sort of arrangement that allows him to have his fun.”
Anger flares. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, I mean, I’ve heard—”
“No, let me tell you something,” I snap, losing my cool. “There’s a lot of bullshit around about Chase and people like you just keep perpetuating it. So what if he and I haven’t been together very long? It’s not a big deal, we’re married and that’s the end of it.”
Her eyebrows shoot up and instantly I realize my mistake. “Haven’t been together for long?”
“I… I mean, married for long.”
“That’s not what you said.”
“It’s what I meant.”
“Interesting.” She purses her lips. “Very interesting.”
I decide to cut my losses. I can tell this conversation is going nowhere, and there’s no reason to keep subjecting myself to this same awful garbage.
“You don’t know anything about me and Chase, so I’d appreciate it if you stayed away,” I say to her, standing.
“I’m sorry,” she says, smiling sweetly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just curious.”
“You know, you come off all nice and sweet but you’re just as bad as those TMI people.” I turn and walk away, not able to sit there and take any more shit from her.
I walk back toward the yard, looking for Chase. The party suddenly takes on a really dark cast. Now I feel like everyone’s whispering about us, wondering how I could’ve let him cheat on me, wondering if what we have is even real.
I feel like an idiot and a fake. I’m mad at myself and I’m mad at him.
I never should’ve talked to that woman. She was a reporter, after all, but I didn’t know that right away. I told her something stupid, lost my cool, but it’s not like it was some official interview.
I need to clear her from my mind and calm down. I hurry through the crowd, and suddenly relief floods through me as I spot Chase standing in the back yard talking to Karl.
I approach the two of them. Karl nods at me, says something to Chase, and walks off as I get close. Chase turns to me, a smile on his face.
Something happens in that moment. It’s a strange feeling, something I never would’ve thought was possible. All of my anger disappears, slowly melts away at the sight of his smile.