I'm with the Band

by Melanie Brown

  “Mind if I sit down?” asked a familiar voice.

  I looked up and said, “Brook! What are you doing here? Yeah, sure. Please sit down!”

  Brooklyn took the seat next to me. “Hey girl! Are you having a good time? I watched you and Tommy dancing.”

  I said, “Yeah, I’m having a good time. All the celebrities and reporters and everything are kinda overwhelming though.”

  Brooklyn nodded, “Yeah, the parties are to see and be seen. People come to them just so their pictures get into the magazines. Looks like you’ve hit it off with Tommy though.”

  “We’re getting along pretty good. He’s very nice. He’s not at all the way I expected a movie star to be.”

  Brooklyn nodded again, “Yes, he’s certainly very down to earth. And it’s very obvious he likes you.”

  Before I could say anything, Tommy returned.

  Tommy set the drinks down and gave Brooklyn a quick hug. “Brook! I’m glad you could make it. Have you met Michelle?”

  Brooklyn laughed and said, “Kind of. I work for her!”

  I hadn’t really thought about it, but I guess that was true. I had come to think of Brooklyn as a friend.

  As Tommy sat down, he said, “You know Brook. I have to admit I was very wrong when I got mad when Hal first ‘suggested’ I take Michelle to this party. I know he was just wanting to generate some publicity for her band, but now I’m glad I did.” He looked over at me and continued, “Michelle is a beautiful girl. Very nice and a great dancer. She’s so sweet and feminine, unlike some of the girls I’ve dated recently.”

  “Yeah, she’s a real sweetie all right,”agreed Brooklyn.

  I wanted to crawl under the table and barf. Instead, I smiled and said, “Thank you! I have to admit, I’ve never dated a boy like you before.”Ain’t that the truth!

  * * *

  It was quite late when the limo pulled up to the curb outside my hotel. On the ride back, Tommy was sitting quite close next to me, his arm around my shoulder.

  “Thanks for coming to my birthday party, Michelle,” he said earnestly.

  “I’m glad I came. I had a really good time.”

  “I hope we can see each other again before you have to go.”

  I frowned and said, “I doubt it, Tommy. We’re going to be pretty busy the next two days getting our album finished. I’m actually going to have to be in the studio.”

  Looking disappointed, Tommy said, “Well, maybe I’ll drop by the studio and see how you’re doing.”

  “You might check with Mr. Winters, but I’m sure it’ll be okay. Well, I’ll never be able to get up in the morning if I don’t get to bed soon. Thanks for the party Tommy. I enjoyed it.”

  I started to get up when suddenly Tommy’s lips were pressed against mine. I started to pull my head back, but he just pressed on, holding my head in his hand. He continued to kiss me for a moment, and then pulled away.

  “Sorry,” he said, “but you’re just so beautiful, and I was afraid I might not get to see you again, alone. I really enjoyed being with you tonight.”

  Feeling a little shell-shocked and not having a clue what to say, I said, “You’re very nice. I had a wonderful time. Good night.” I hurried out of the limo.

  I held my composure as far as the elevator. As the doors closed I started crying. In anguish, I cried out, “I’ve just been kissed by a guy! Shit!”

  As the elevator door opened on my floor, I wiped away the wet streaks of mascara under my eyes. I fumbled through my purse for the room key. I tried to open the lock as quietly as possible.

  “Honey, is that you?” Mom called through the darkness from her bed. There was a rustling noise, and then the light next to her bed came on.

  “Hi Mom,” I said as I started for the bathroom to wash my face.

  “Don’t ‘hi mom’ me young lady. Where have you been?” Mom didn’t sound happy. I heard John start to stir in his bed.

  Tired, I said, “Mom, I’m sure Hal or Brooklyn told you where I was. I was at Tommy Kincaid’s birthday party.”

  “Yes, Hal told me. I was expecting you back sooner though. It’s two a.m.!”

  “Sorry Mom. But I couldn’t leave until Tommy did. I was kind of his date for the evening.”

  John sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. “You… you were at a party tonight?”he growled. “A fancy Hollywood party with movie stars and shit?”I nodded. “You goddamned fucking little…”

  “John!”Mom scolded. John didn’t seem to care.

  “You went to a fucking party while we were busting our asses to get the album done? I don’t fucking believe it!”

  “John, I was practically told to go by Hal. I didn’t want to go at first,” I pleaded.

  “Bullshit! Yeah, big choice… hmmm working my ass off at the studio or hanging out with movie stars at a big party? Hmmm… oh what shall I do? Shit!” I think John was pissed.

  “John, calm down!” yelled Mom. “She was doing it for the band!”

  “What a load of crap! And please stop calling my stupid little brother ‘she’!”

  With a fury I haven’t seen in years, Mom flew off her bed and slapped John across the face. “Watch your mouth young man! I will not tolerate it! And Michelle is a ‘she’. Don’t forget that. And she did go to the party for the band. John, we couldn’t buy publicity that good.”

  On the verge of tears again because of the outbursts, I said shakily, “That’s right Mom. I was photographed and questioned left and right. Lots of people, celebrities and media people have now heard of the band’s name. I was always careful to let everyone know I was a member of John Gray’s Band.”

  John sat on the bed rubbing his face. “Geesh Mom. That hurt. Ever hear of child abuse laws?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do it that hard. But John, I’m really tired of that filthy mouth of yours. I know you think it makes you seem cool, but…”

  “Mom!”John cut her off. “We’ve had this discussion before. I promise to try to watch what I say, okay?” He scowled at me and said, “And I guess I’ll concede that Mike was working on the Band’s behalf at the party. But I’d like to see him do some actual work for once.”

  Mom said, “She’s a she, John. And she’ll have to be at the studio the next couple of days to finish the recordings.”

  As I started heading towards the bathroom again, John said, “And I guess you’re right Mom. Mike will never really be fully a man. He’s practically a girl anyway.” He rolled over with his back to me and pulled his sheets up.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  The next morning found us all at the studio bright and early. We were finally getting the hang of things. Mom let me sleep a little longer than usual because I had gotten in so late. I surprised myself at how quickly I was able to get dressed and put on my make-up. I wasn’t trying to be glamorous… just presentable. A t-shirt, sweater and jeans and I was ready for the studio.

  We were all sitting in the control booth waiting for Mr. Johnson to come in and get us started. I wanted to listen in to John and the guys as they were talking about their expectations of today’s session. Instead, Scott, the sound tech, was again trying to teach me how to use the big control panel and what each knob and dial did. I did want to know all that stuff, but I could tell that Scott just wanted some excuse to talk to me.

  Mr. Johnson finally arrived, listening to his iPod and actually humming one of our songs and smiling. I had a fleeting thought that space aliens had replaced Mr. Johnson. Draping the headphones around his neck, he said, “Great session last night, guys. Absolutely great.”

  John and Fritz exchanged glances with ear-to-ear grins. Fritz said, “Thanks Mr. Johnson.”

  Looking at John, Mr. Johnson said, “This morning before we get started on your and Michelle’s duet, I’d like to re-do your vocal from last night. It was good, but if you can put a little more edge to your voice that song could easily be
a third single.”

  John and Fritz high-fived each other and John said, “Let’s do it, man!”

  I stayed in the control booth with Mom and Scott while the others filed out into the sound studio. Scott let a frown cross his face when he saw that Mom was staying. Thank you Mom!

  I had fallen asleep in a chair with my head resting on Mom’s shoulder. I was awakened by a gentle nudge and Mom’s voice saying, “Wake up, dear. They’re ready for you in the studio.”

  I blinked in the light a few times and tried to get my bearings. Finally, I felt awake enough to leave the control room. I walked into a sound booth positioned so I could see John in his booth. I put on the headphones and spoke into the microphone. “Testing… testing… Scott can you hear me okay?”

  Through the headphones, I heard Scott say,”Roger-dodger Michelle. You’re sound is just perfect… as always.”

  Through the control booth window, Scott gave us a thumbs’ up sign, and Mr. Johnson nodded to Juan who started a count-down of the beat, and all the guys came in right on cue.

  While we were singing, I saw some movement in the control booth. It looked like someone was delivering something.

  The song ended and Mr. Johnson said, “That was great. Let’s do it again.”

  After the third time, Mr. Johnson said, “Take a break guys. Your voices were starting to sound a little strained.”

  I saw Mom waving at me to come into the control booth. I walked in and Mom had a goofy grin on her face, “What’s up?” I almost added “Mom” at the end.

  Mom just pointed to the desk behind her. On the desk was a glass vase filled with a dozen roses and other assorted flowers. Knitting my brows together I asked, “Who’s that for? Where did it come from?”

  Mom said, “They’re for you! Aren’t they beautiful? Look, there’s a card.”

  I plucked the card from the bouquet and opened the envelope. Inside was a handwritten note that said, “Thanks for making my birthday party a special occasion. Can’t wait to hear your album. Love, Tommy.”

  Mom looked at the note, frowned and said, “Tommy? Tommy Kincaid from the party last night?”

  I just looked at her and said, “Yeah, that Tommy.”

  Mom’s eyes grew wide as she asked, “That was very sweet of him. Ah, how old is Tommy, anyway?”

  I shrugged and said, “I dunno... I didn’t think to ask!” I paused a moment, then was suddenly offended. “Mom! Don’t look at me like that. We’re not dating for crying out loud!”

  Before Mom could say anything else, Sammy entered the control room, took a quick look around and said, “Michelle, did a guy send you some flowers?”He began to grin. My face began to turn red.

  Just then, another delivery person knocked on the control room’s door. She was carrying another bouquet of roses. Mom directed the delivery girl to the desk with the other bouquet. I didn’t like the looks of this one bit.

  I took the card from the bouquet and read it. Mom looked over my shoulder and said, “Julia? Who’s Julia?”

  The card said simply, “Enjoyed meeting you. Hope your album is a smashing success! Yours, Julia”.

  “It’s from Julia Briggs!” I gasped. It was bad enough for Tommy to send me flowers, but Julia too?

  Scott let out a low whistle and said, “Wow. She’s hot!”

  Mom said, “Isn’t she on that soap opera? It’s ah…it’s ah…”

  “Yes, it’s her.” I said quickly.

  “Why did she send you flowers?” Mom looked at me funny.

  I hesitated a moment, then said, “Just like Tommy, she just wants to wish us good luck.”

  Scott cheerfully volunteered, “I heard she’s a lesbian.”

  Sammy started to laugh uncontrollably, “You… you got flowers from both a guy and a lesbian? I can’t wait to tell John!”

  “Don’t you dare!” I cried out, but it was too late as he was running out the door. Through the window, I could see him quickly tell John and the others. It wasn’t hard to read John’s lips as he cried out, “No shit!?” They all started laughing, including Juan.

  Before I could say anything else, Mr. Winters with Brooklyn in tow entered the control room. After exchanging pleasantries with everyone, Mr. Winters turned to me and said bluntly, “Michelle, you need to go with Ms. Farrell. You need to hurry. You’re doing a last minute fill in.”

  I just blinked at him a moment, “What are you talking about?”I finally said. “We’re in the middle of recording our album.”

  Hal Winters frowned as he said, “This should only take a couple of hours if you do exactly what the photographer says. It means exposure and it’ll be easy money.”

  I was starting to get mad, “Photographer? Photographer? Please! Not another stinking photographer! We’re in the middle of recording our duet!”I stamped my foot.

  Mr. Winters frowned some more. He obviously wasn’t used to someone trying to tell him ‘no’. He said, “It’s for a print ad I had sent your pictures to a particular ad agency hoping they’d be interested in using you for product endorsements after you got famous. But, the girl they were going to use for this one ad bailed on them at the last moment. Having recently seen your picture, they decided you would be a perfect ‘typical high schooler.’ Brook’s got your change of clothes in the car. Brook, would you mind bringing that stuff in?”

  Looking at me, he continued, “As soon as Brook comes back, change! We have to hurry on this. This could lead to some good opportunities for you while you’re waiting to become famous.”

  I just stood there dumbfounded.

  * * *

  As we drove to where the ad was being shot, I asked Brooklyn, “Don’t you get tired of hauling me around?” I had my arms folded across my chest and was pouting.

  Brooklyn just laughed, “Tired? Cha-ching! Hal is paying me pretty darn good to haul you around. But I have to admit, I enjoy taking you around to places. You’d be surprised how many new female acts I have to make look high-fashion who are dumb or just flat-out jerks. A lot of them are real bitches. And, well, so are even some of the other, older clients I have.”

  She looked over at me and smiled, “I like you, Michelle. Even though they pay good, I get a little tired of all the phonies. You’re the real thing… a genuine girl-next-door.”

  I smiled weakly. Now I felt like a complete asshole. I was a lie and it was making me feel dirty.

  Brooklyn continued smiling as she said, “I saw those flowers. I’m glad Tommy likes you. He’s the real thing, too. I think you two are a good match.” Frowning, she took her eyes off the road to look at me briefly then added, “I’d advise you stay way away from that Julia. She’s a bad apple.”

  “She seemed nice enough to me,” I said wrinkling my brow. Not to mention that she’s one of the hottest babes on television right now.

  Brooklyn shook her head, “Don’t be fooled Michelle. Besides what you’ve probably heard by now, which is true by the way, she’s also into drugs, alcohol — you name it. She has a good agent that keeps the positive PR spin going, but she’s just no good. I like you, Michelle. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  

  * * *

  I came back into the studio not long after lunch, still wearing my “high school girl” dress. Brook had just dropped me off and sped away to one of her other clients. I looked at the plastic bag I was holding and shuddered. I looked around for a trash can.

  John spotted me from across the room and shouted, “Michelle! Get your be-hind over here. We need to get started again.”

  As I approached, Mom got up from her chair and asked, “How did the ad go?”

  I looked down at the floor and said, “It went okay I guess. It didn’t take very long.”

  John pointed and asked, “What’s in the bag?”

  I knew I should have tossed it before coming inside. I said, “It’s some free samples of the product the ad was for.”

&nbs
p; “Cool, let’s see it.” John said.

  “No. Let’s get on with the session.”

  Sammy said, “What’s in the bag? You have to show us now!”

  Fritz yawned, “Yeah, the suspense is killing me.”

  I stood there, not wanting to move. “I don’t want to.”

  Mom said, “Oh, just show them what’s in the bag so we can get this album finished while I’m still young.”

  “Fine!” I shouted as I dumped the contents onto a nearby table. Several packages spilled out.

  John picked up a packet and said, “What the…”And then a wide grin spread across his face. “This… this is what you were endorsing?” He burst out laughing and tossed a package to Fritz. I could feel my face begin to glow red.

  Fritz started to laugh, “You stood in front of a camera and said you use these?”

  “It was a print ad, not a TV ad,” I glowered.

  Sammy picked a package off the table and read slowly and aloud, “Tampax Satin Teen tampons.”

  I was mortified as all the guys in the band roared in laughter. I’m sure the crew standing around didn’t understand why it was so funny. Mom put an arm around me as if to shield me and said, “That’s enough guys! Knock it off!”

  My picture and those tampons were going to be in every teen and women’s magazine for the next six months. The ad agency said they were going to try to negotiate with Mr. Winters on my becoming a spokeswoman for the product for their coming ad campaign. I’ll protest, but I know I’ll lose.

  * * *

  About eight o’clock that night, things were winding down. The album was all but finished. Mr. Johnson said we should be through recording sometime after lunch Friday. Then they’d start the post-production work, mixing in some professionals on other instruments to give us a bigger sound.

  Mr. Winters had stayed with us most of the afternoon. I really would have thought he’d be much too busy for that. But he stuck around and on more than one occasion would pull John aside to suggest improvements. I was surprised that John seemed to respect Mr. Winters’ opinion. That whole afternoon, the Band was a well oiled machine.