I'm with the Band

by Melanie Brown

  “It doesn’t matter if Michelle is a star if you’re going to be miserable as a girl. If you stay Mike, will you regret not following your dream?”

  “I want the dream and stay Mike!” I almost shouted.

  “That might not be possible, Honey. Mr. Winters feels that you will soar straight to the top as Michelle. As Mike, while you might find happiness and success, you probably won’t be a singing star or an in-demand model. Honey, I keep telling you, it all comes down to what you’re the most comfortable with. What will ultimately make you happy? It doesn’t matter what others think in the long run. You’re the only one who has to live with her decision.”

  * * *

  We arrived at the studio in a cab. Mom really needs to buy us a car. I think we can afford one. Later today she was finally going close a deal on a house she’d found.

  As we got out of the cab, I realized I probably should have given more thought to my appearance. Being a record label’s studio entrance, there were people hanging around outside waiting to catch a glimpse of a celebrity. I was wearing camouflage pants and a black tank top with my hair in a pony tail, and I was wearing these incredibly huge hoop earrings.

  There were shouts of “Look! It’s Michelle Grayson!” and “Over here Michelle!” and people asking for my autograph. It was a tremendous ego boost. Could I just walk away from this?

  We tried to make our way through the crowd as quickly as possible and still sign some autographs. As I was signing their CD cover, one girl asked me, “What did Tommy do? You looked so upset!”

  I was surprised. Was she at the hotel? I just said, “Sorry, that’s kind of personal.” Finally, we made it inside the studio.

  Once inside, the receptionist informed us where we could find Mr. Winters. He was waiting for us in one of the sound studios.

  We were passing one of the studios when I spotted a rest room. “Mom, I need to go.”

  “Okay, Honey. I’ll meet you down there.” Mom said as she continued walking. Over her shoulder she said, “Don’t take all day, okay?”

  I took care of my business as quickly as I could. Sitting down to pee was now so automatic I didn’t even give it a second thought. I studied myself in the mirror and decided my lipstick needed some refreshing and that my eyes could use a bit more mascara. I let my hair down and shook it out, then gathered it back up into a ponytail. I studied myself up and down in the mirror and decided that I was starting to look too fat.

  As I left the restroom, the door to the studio across the hall opened and some long haired guy in a black t-shirt and baggy pants stepped out. At first, I didn’t think anything of it, and then the guy turned and looked over at me. At that point, it became evident that I’d spent too much time with Kayla looking at teen magazines.

  Instantly regretting it, I blurted out, “Oh my God! It’s Chad Dumont!” Chad was the top pop singer in the country and was famous the world over. At seventeen, he was the music bad-boy that every teen girl wanted to date.

  I was giggling like a stupid girl when he looked over at me, at first looking annoyed that someone had let a fan in. Then, his expression changed and in a mocking tone he raised his hands into the air and exclaimed in a high pitched voice, “Oh my God! It’s Michelle Grayson!” Then he laughed.

  I suddenly became nervous when he started to walk towards me. I told myself to calm down. He’s just another boy, like me. Except he’s a little older and totally gorgeous. Scratch that. That’s something Kayla would say. In fact, Kayla has said it. Chad is another boy celeb who she has a major crush on.

  Extending his hand toward me, Chad said pleasantly, “Hello! I was hoping we’d get to meet sometime. I’m a big fan.”

  “Really?”I asked stupidly as I limply shook his hand. Blushing, I said honestly, “Sorry. I usually don’t act this way. I’m such a huge fan! I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you!” I tried to stop gushing, but when it comes to pop music, nobody is bigger than Chad Dumont. This would be like Mom meeting Elvis. Well, okay. Maybe not quite that big, but big enough.

  Chad laughed casually and said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m used it.”

  I took a deep breath and calmed down a little, “I really am a fan. Your songs are so totally awesome! We even went down to San Antonio just to watch your concert at the Alamo Dome. It was great!”

  Looking a little too self-satisfied, Chad said, “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it. You know I have a concert right here in L.A. in about three weeks.”

  “I know. I tried to get a ticket for it, but they’re all sold out.”

  Chad shrugged and said, “Don’t worry about it. If you want to go, you’ve got tickets. Right down front. Backstage pass, too. Bring the rest of the band with you.”

  At first, I thought of offering to have his children, but settled for saying, “Thank you so much! That’ll be so awesome!”

  “Great!” Chad said. “I certainly hope to see you there.”He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he asked, “Are you guys going to have a concert anytime soon? Like I said, I’m a fan.”

  Excited that someone as famous as Chad would be a fan of our little band, I said, “In fact, we’re going on tour this summer.”

  Chad smiled and said, “That’s great! You’ll see me at least at one of them,”he said sincerely. He glanced at his watch and asked, “Would you like to join me for lunch in a bit?”

  “I’d love to, but I don’t know when we’ll be finished.” I said, knowing that Mr. Winters was probably growing impatient at my absence.

  Chad smiled again and said, “Oh, they’ll break when we break. I can pretty much guarantee that.”

  Chad must have a lot of power here if he could do that. I said, “Well, then, sure! I’d love to!” I couldn’t suppress the giggle. “If you’re sure…”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Chad said as he started to turn the other way. “Catch ya later.”

  When I walked into the studio, there was Mom standing next to a less than happy Hal Winters.

  Before either Mom or Mr. Winters could say anything, I blurted, “Mom! I just met Chad Dumont! Can you believe it? And guess what? He wants me to go to lunch with him! Isn’t that awesome?”

  “Yes, that’s awesome dear. I thought you were through with boys, anyway,” said Mom in a tone that brought my mood down a few notches.

  Frowning, I said, “Mom, it’s just lunch…”

  Interrupting me, Mr. Winters said, “Miss Grayson, I believe we have some work to do this morning. But first…” he held up a tabloid-like paper. “… we can really do without this kind of publicity.”

  He handed me the tabloid and there were grainy pictures of me with Tommy, arriving at the restaurant and then kissing on the beach. There were actual pictures of Tommy kissing me on the beach! Then, there was a picture of me crying as I ran through the lobby of the hotel. I couldn’t believe how terrible I looked. I asked, “How do they get these things published so fast?”

  Snatching the tabloid paper from my hands, Mr. Winters said, “That’s not important. While it wasn’t planned, your little relationship with Tommy was fueling both music sales and video sales and rentals. I doubt it will hurt your sales, but a backlash has already started against Tommy because a lot of his fans believe he hurt you.”

  I stood there a moment, looking indignant. Frowning I said, “He did hurt me. He tried to take advantage of me!”

  Shaking his head and gathering up some papers from a nearby table, Mr. Winters said, “Look miss. Tommy has already told me how you led him on and made him think he was going to get something that… well, something you couldn’t give him anyway.”Mr. Winters looked down his nose at me and frowned.

  “Hal,”Mom said. She paused a second then continued, “Mr. Winters! That’s uncalled for! Michelle didn’t lead anybody on. She thought she was just going on a nice date with what she thought was a nice boy. He practically raped her!”

  “Mom! Let’s don’t get carr
ied away!”I said. He may have tried to go too far, but I didn’t want to try to torpedo his career.

  Blustering, Mr. Winters almost shouted, “Ms. Gray! How dare you! If you want to work in this town, I suggest you keep such outlandish thoughts to yourself!”

  Mom backpedaled a little and said, “Okay, maybe not exactly rape, but he did try to take advantage of her!”

  Mr. Winters opened his briefcase and started quickly stuffing papers into it. As he closed it, he said, “Well, it’s obvious that we’re not going to get any work done today. I have some other pressing things to attend to.”Turning to Mom, he continued, “Be here tomorrow by eight AM and let’s try to get some work done, shall we?”

  Mr. Winters handed Mom some sheet music. He barked, “Make sure she’s familiar with these songs by tomorrow. We’ll be working on the arrangements. I’m changing the schedule somewhat so we can get started on John’s new CD and her new solo CD. I wanted to work on those arrangements today, but I have to do damage control on Tommy’s career.”

  Turning towards me, Mr. Winters said gruffly, “And you, young lady, be careful what you say. I’m sure the press will sometime in the next few days hit you up with some questions about Tommy. Just admit that you overreacted and try to diffuse the issue.”

  “Overreacted!” I almost shouted. “I don’t think so!”

  “You’re overreacting now,” Mr. Winters said, irritated. “It will behoove you to remember what’s in your best interest.” In a huff, Mr. Winters hurried out of the studio.

  Mom sighed and stared at the studio musicians who were starting to break down their equipment. She said, “Well, that went well…”

  “Not!” I said. “This whole thing has been a total disaster! And all because of a stupid boy! I tell you, Mom. I’m through with boys. I don’t even know why I tried to date one.”And honestly, I really don’t know.

  Mom handed me the sheet music. She said, “Here, take these and start looking over them.”She then pulled some money out of her purse and handed it to me. “Here’s something for cab fare if you need it. I’m going to chase down Mr. Winters and see if I can calm him down a little bit. I’m also going to finalize the deal on our new house. So you’re on your own for the rest of the day, okay?”

  I transferred the money to my purse and said, “Sure Mom. That’s fine.” Mom gave me a quick hug and left the studio. I stood around for a few minutes, watching the musicians and technicians put up their stuff. Then I walked out into the hallway.

  On my way out of the building, I passed the doors that led to the studio that Chad had come out of. I tried the door and it wasn’t locked. I guess he wasn’t recording at the moment. I opened the door and went inside.

  There were several people sitting and standing around. I could see Chad sitting in a booth wearing headphones, studying some sheet music. As I found a place to sit down, the warning light that they were about to start recording came on. A guy I assumed was the producer cued the folks in the control booth, then turned and cued Chad. Apparently, the band had already recorded their tracks and they were laying down Chad’s voice track.

  I sat there next to a couple of other girls and listened to Chad sing. He does have a great voice. When I found myself swaying back and forth with the other girls, I made a conscious effort to stop.

  When he finished singing, he glanced out of the small recording booth and saw me sitting there. He tossed me a quick smile. He waited until the sound guy had signaled him before saying, “Hey guys, let’s break for lunch, okay?”

  The producer glanced at his watch and said, “It’s a little early, but sure, okay. Everyone be back here by one.”

  Chad exited the booth and started to walk towards me. The other two girls got up to approach him, but he walked past them without a glance and said, “Michelle! I’m glad to see you again. What did you think of the new song?”

  I had to beat down the excitement from being a foot away from Chad Dumont. I had to remind myself that he’s just another guy just like me. Except he’s not wearing a bra. “It was wonderful! I really liked it,”I said honestly.

  Chad smiled and said, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Coming from such a good singer as you, that’s quite a compliment.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say and just stared at the floor.

  Chad asked, “Want to get some lunch?”

  Casually tossing my hair back, I said, “Sure.”

  “Great. You like pizza?”I nodded and he continued, “There’s a great little Italian place around the corner. They make pizza just like they do back home in Jersey.”

  He nodded an obvious ‘let’s go’ gesture and took my hand and led me from the studio. Chad Dumont was actually holding my hand! In my head I screamed at myself to stop being such a girl.

  I walked quickly to stay up with him. I had a sudden thought and asked nervously, “Chad, uh, what will Deirdre Huff say about you taking me to lunch?”Deirdre Huff was presumably Chad’s current high-profile girlfriend and the female flip-side to Tommy for the movie-going teen boys’ collective heartthrob. She also had a well known temper.

  Chad shrugged and said, “Don’t worry about it. Despite what you have probably read, she’s not my girl friend. Not much, anyway. What about you? Are you too involved with that actor whats-his-name, Tommy?”

  I shook my head vigorously and said, “No. We are not dating!”

  Chad laughed and said, “Now that we have that out of the way, let’s go eat.”

  I mentally kicked myself because I was crushing on yet another guy. ‘Are you totally insane?!’ I shouted to myself.

  I looked over at Chad and in a breathless voice I audibly answered myself with “Yes…”

  

  * * *

  Chapter 16

  ”Don’t go that way!”said Chad as he tightened his grip on my hand and stopped me from heading for the front door.

  “Why not?”I asked, annoyed at having my arm pulled. Even if it was Chad Dumont doing the pulling.

  Leading me down another hall, towards the back of the building, Chad said, “Too many cameras and thrill seekers out the front. There’s a service entrance out back that the beautiful people like us aren’t supposed to use.”

  While not exactly running, Chad, with his longer stride, was walking at a brisk pace I’m not used to, and I had to walk fairly fast to keep up. As we turned towards a storage area, Chad glanced over at me and asked, “So. Where are you from, Michelle?”

  Jeesh, hasn’t he read any of the mountains of propaganda that Mr. Winters has been flooding the media with? I’ve gone over it so much; I think I’m believing our own cover story. I said, “I’m from Oklahoma.”

  He looked at me and said, “I’ve been there. It’s very flat.”

  I had to take his word for it, since I’ve never been there myself.

  We zigged and zagged through rows of God knows what. I saw a sign that read ‘Employees Only’. I asked, “Do you know where you’re going? Are we going to get in trouble?” I have to admit, that even though the person holding my hand was quite famous, he was still a guy I didn’t know and we were deep into the bowels of a building that obviously didn’t get many visitors.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Chad. He was pulling me towards a large metal door. He reached up and pounded on a red button near the door. He looked at me and said, “Disables the alarm for a few seconds.” He then whacked the latch and pushed his shoulder against the door. With a metallic groan, the door swung open.

  A moment after we stepped outside the building, the door slammed shut with a clunk. “Do you always go this way?” I asked as we descended some concrete steps into a somewhat narrow, cluttered alley.

  “Usually,” he said. “Unfortunately, we can’t get back in that way. Come on! I’m hungry!”

  

  * * *

  The slice of pizza was huge — as big as a whole pizza at Pizza Hut. Chad found a table toward
s the back and we sat down. As soon as he sat down, Chad took a bite of his slice. He closed his eyes and moaned softly. “Now that’s pizza!”

  Conscious of my figure, I took a nibble from the end of the slice. I said, “So, where were you before you became a big star?”

  Chad laughed and said, “Just like you. I went from being a nobody little punk breaking windows in old buildings in Long Branch, New Jersey to what I am now.” He took another bite of his pizza and chewed for a few moments. “I hope it lasts a while, but I’ll tell you right now I have no intention of winding up singing for little old ladies in Branson, Missouri. No, not me. I’m the kind that likes to live fast and play hard.”

  Frowning after nibbling more on my pizza, I said, “Well, I’m the last person you want hanging around you. I’m actually a very quiet, private person.”

  Chad laughed and said, “You’re too funny! You splash your dates all over the media and break up with one of the biggest names in Hollywood and then to the world media you practically accuse him of rape! That’s real quiet and private!”

  I put my pizza down and scowled at him. “Are you making fun of me? It wasn’t like I paraded Tommy around so the media could see us together! And I never accused him of rape!”

  Chad didn’t say anything. He just got up and held up his index finger to suggest I remain seated. He went up the cashier, took a gossip newspaper from the rack and paid for it. He returned to his seat and held up the front page of the newspaper.

  Screaming across the page in huge typeface were the words, “‘I WAS RAPED BY TOMMY KINCAID!’ says teary-eyed song bird Michelle Grayson.”An enlarged, and fuzzy picture of me running and crying through the hotel lobby was next to the picture.

  “You were saying…?” Chad gave me a wry smile.

  I snatched the paper from his hands and looked it with my mouth gaping open.