by ML Hamilton
* * *
Elena had little time to think about Ravensong over the next few weeks. At least she told herself she didn’t think about him. However, when the office went quiet at night, she found herself wandering down the hallway toward his office and peering inside at the emptiness.
The days kept her occupied, racing from one task to another, but after the first week, it became routine and she had to give it less and less of her attention. She talked to David and Julian every day, sometimes more. She talked to Elliot more often than she’d expected and every night there was an email waiting for her on her home computer. She even heard from Evan, the singer from the opening band, Rage.
But she never heard from Ravensong. It seemed that he had forgotten about her the moment the band left on tour. She knew how demanding these six months would be. The band never stayed in a city more than two days and their breaks were few and far between. Still, she’d expected him to try and make contact with her at least once.
His lack of attention should have been comforting if she was truly going to excise him from her life, but it wasn’t. She missed him terribly and it hurt to think he’d forgotten her that easily. She had told herself she was nothing more than a one-night’s novelty, but she hadn’t really believed it until now.
It made her feel surly and irritable. She snapped at Kate and she hung up on John. Well, in truth, she hung up on John because she couldn’t talk to him without feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt, but there was no call to be short with her best friend.
She knew she had to face John to break off the engagement. It was getting harder and harder to avoid visiting him in Colorado, and he was now pressing her to pick a date for their wedding. Still she couldn’t tell him by phone and it wasn’t the best time to leave San Francisco with the band out of town.
“Did you really want catsup on your salad?” said Kate, sitting on the other side of the desk from her.
Elena blinked, coming out of her inner thoughts. She frowned at Kate, then looked down at her salad. The entire top layer was covered in a line of red paste. She sighed and pushed it away.
“What’s bothering you?” asked Kate. “You haven’t eaten a bite and you’re not the best conversationalist right now.”
“I need to tell John it’s over.”
“I say send him a Dear John letter. It might be cliché, but it works.”
Elena grimaced. “Really bad joke, Katie,” she said.
Kate laughed. “Well, I’m just glad you’re so deep in thought over something important. I was afraid you were mooning over Ravensong.”
Elena didn’t answer.
Kate speared a lettuce leaf and lifted it to her mouth, but she stopped before taking a bite. “Tell me you’re not.”
Elena gave her a frank look. “I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t on my mind, but I know there can’t be anything between us. For one thing, he completely forgot about me the moment he left on tour.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I haven’t heard a word from him at all.”
“He’s probably busy, Ellie.”
“Elliot writes every night and I’ve already gotten two calls from him.”
Kate poked her fork into her bowl again. “I say leave well enough alone. You don’t need to hear from him. You don’t need to have any more to do with him at all. Eat your salad and stop mooning. I hate it.”
Elena shook her head in amusement. “Some friend you are.”
“That’s right. I’m here to keep your head on straight, since you obviously can’t do it yourself. Rock stars are for fun romps, nothing more. If you’re going to keep sleeping with them, you’d better learn that.”
“Thanks for making my night seem so cheap.”
“Hey, those are the best kind, baby,” laughed Kate, filling her mouth with food.
* * *
“You’re gonna need to mic up the saxophone,” said Elena, glancing down at her clipboard and motioning toward the equipment she wanted loaded on the trailers headed for Oakland. “They’ll need the larger of the amplifiers.”
“What about those speakers?”
“Both of them go,” she said, grabbing the paperwork from one of the drivers and signing the delivery invoice. “Be careful with that, it’s fragile.”
“Elena,” came her assistant’s voice at her back.
“Just a minute, Simone.” She hurried after the driver. “Wait a minute. Make sure those amps are strapped in back there.”
“Elena!”
“Unless something’s on fire, can you please handle it?” she called over her shoulder.
“Julian’s on the phone in the office. He says it’s important, told me to locate you post-haste.”
Elena turned. “Why didn’t he call me on my cell?”
Simone planted a hand on her hip and gave Elena a severe look. “I’m just the messenger.”
“Well, it can’t be anything that important. He probably didn’t get the maps I faxed him. Take a message and I’ll call him back later.”
“He said to tell you I couldn’t take a message.”
Elena paused and studied her assistant. Simone gave her an aggravated toss of her head. Handing the clipboard to the equipment manager, Elena indicated the next items to be loaded on the trucks.
“I’ll be right back, Bob,” she said and he nodded in understanding.
Following Simone back toward the elevators, Elena felt a tightening in her stomach. She didn’t know why she was suddenly so apprehensive, but it had come on her like a wave. She watched Simone punch the buttons and entered behind her, both of them lifting their eyes to watch the elevator climb the layers of the building until it came to the floor housing the Avalanche offices.
Simone’s heels made an ominous sound as she clomped down the tiled hallway and into her office. She threw herself into her chair as Elena hurried into her own office and punched the button on the phone to receive Julian’s call.
“Hi, Julian, sorry it took so long, but I was helping to load the trucks for tonight’s show in Oak...”
“Listen, Elena. Book the next flight out of SF and meet up with us in Tulsa. Pack enough for the next few months.”
Elena sank down on the edge of the desk. “What? Julian, my contract said nothing about going on tour...”
“Well, things change. I need you out here as soon as you can hop a flight.”
“Julian, we have a show every night for the next two months and...”
“Bob can handle it. He knows that end of the business better than you.”
Elena didn’t answer for a moment. She knew Bob had the big picture, but some of the minor details escaped him, like packing a mic for the saxophone in tonight’s band.
“Julian, I don’t understand...”
“What’s to understand? Avalanche is more important than any of the two bit bands we rent equipment for. You need to get your priorities straight.”
“Okay, okay, don’t get angry. I just don’t understand why everything is changing now. You’ve been on tour for more than a month already and...”
Julian gave a violent exhalation. “Geez, woman, you are difficult. Look, David’s had a little health issue and...”
Elena stood up. “What? What happened to David?”
The hiss of Julian’s voice echoed over the line, but Elena didn’t care. The knot in her stomach had tightened. Simone appeared at the door, her eyes wide. She mouthed the word what at Elena, but Elena could only shake her head in confusion.
“Don’t get all worked up, it’s nothing that serious. He’s just got an irregular heartbeat or something.”
“Is he going to be all right?”
Julian made another exasperated sound. “How the hell should I know? I’m not a heart surgeon...”
“Heart surgeon? Where are the guys? Let me talk to one of them.”
“They’re not here. They’re at the hospital with David. Look, he can’t continue the tour, so I have to take over. I need an ass
istant and you’re all I’ve got right now. Book that flight, okay, then we’ll discuss your contract or whatever...”
“I don’t care about my contract. I want to know what happened to David.”
“Look, I’m really busy here. I’m the only one focused on making this tour a success. I don’t have time to chat right now. Book the flight and leave a message on my cell with your arrival time. I’ll have a driver meet you at the airport. See ya soon. Bye.”
The line went dead in Elena’s hand. She drew it away from her ear and stared at the receiver, then placed it back on the cradle. Simone stood staring at her.
Reaching into her pocket, Elena pulled out her cell phone and hit the speed dial for Julian’s number. The call went immediately to his answering service. Exhaling in frustration, she leaned against her desk.
“Can you book me a flight to Tulsa?”
Simone nodded. “Is David all right?”
Elena shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. That certainly wasn’t one of Julian’s major concerns right now.”
“Can you reach the guys?”
“Julian said they’re at the hospital, so I’m sure they have their cell phones off.”
“Which hospital?”
Elena shook her head. “He didn’t tell me and there must be quite a few in a city the size of Tulsa.”
“I’ll book that flight for you.”
“Thanks,” Elena said, forcing a smile. “Give me a little time to pack and call my family, all right?”
“Done,” said Simone and turned back to her desk.
* * *
Elena hated hospitals. Not that she thought many people liked them, but they always felt cold and unsanitary to her. People went to hospitals to die. They went to hospitals battered and bruised. They went to hospitals torn inside and out.
The elderly woman at the information desk gave her a kind smile when she asked for David’s room. She was directed to the cardiac ward. As she hurried down the sterile hallways, she dodged rapidly moving nurses and stagnant pockets of grieving relatives. Her heart lodged in her throat and her stomach roiled.
As she turned down the same nondescript hallway that she’d just left, she found herself in a brightly lit room with couches and chairs grouped around a blaring television set. The room was crowded with more huddled pockets of people, but her attention focused on the dark haired man who lifted his head at her entrance.
Ravensong’s eyes widened and he rose to his feet, moving toward her as she hurried across the room to him. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but another figure stepped into her line of sight.
“You’re finally here. Good. Let’s get back to the hotel and get the rest of tomorrow night’s performance nailed down,” said Julian, gripping her at the elbow.
Elena tugged out of his grasp. “Not until I see David.” She noticed the other band members rising out of their chairs. They all looked exhausted, dark rings under their eyes.
“You can’t see him,” said Elliot. “He’s in ICU. Only family are allowed inside.”
Elena whipped around at Julian. “You told me it wasn’t that bad.”
Julian gave Elliot a quelling look. “It isn’t. He just needs by-pass surgery, then he’ll be fine. They’re gonna fly him back to California tomorrow. He’ll have the surgery at Stanford and everything will be fine. Charlotte said she’d call as soon as he’s out.”
Elena turned her back on the manager. “What happened?” she asked.
Robert moved forward. “He had a heart attack. They said it actually might have saved his life. We got help for him right away and they have new medication to reduce the amount of permanent damage, but he does have a blocked artery. If he hadn’t had the heart attack now, the artery might have closed completely and he could have had a fatal stroke.”
“Have you heard how he’s doing?”
“He’s resting well and Charlotte says he’s in good spirits,” answered Elliot. “He’s getting the best care that money can buy.”
Elena closed her eyes briefly.
“All right, let’s go now. We’ve got a show to put on.”
“Knock it off, Julian,” snapped Elliot, coming forward and taking Elena’s arm. “She just got here. Let her sit down and take everything in.”
Elena let him guide her to a seat, but she couldn’t help lifting her gaze to Ravensong. He met her look, then glanced away, warily watching Julian.
Julian slapped his hands against his thighs. “Fine, but I suggest you get back to the hotel early,” he warned. “I’ll expect you in my suite by six o’clock tomorrow morning. You got that?”
Elena nodded, but she suddenly felt too tired to speak. She wanted to melt into Ravensong’s embrace, but he seemed like he was a million miles away. She wondered what she’d done wrong. She hated the distance between them, and she didn’t know how to make it go away.
* * *
Being on tour was like nothing Elena had ever experienced. Life on tour was chaotic and rapid. And plastic. Nothing was real. The way people treated the band and all those attached to it wasn’t real – all of the flowers and candies and clothing amounted to so much glitter.
The morning started around 10:00AM and from the moment she woke, she was caught up in the maelstrom that was road life. Either they boarded a plane, or rode in the limos, or met at the stadium. There they had rehearsals and sound checks and interviews with the media. After a week of such life, Elena realized all reporters looked the same.
What also was the same were the groupies – desperate young women...and men waiting for a glimpse of the band. Some were waiting for more, especially when Ravensong happened by. They waited behind the stadium, behind the stage, behind dumpsters, and even...once...in the limo itself. That had set off a security frenzy that frightened Elena, more for the groupie than for the band members. And after the shows were the endless after-parties with too much booze and food and women.
The only thing that made it incredible was Ravensong himself. Or rather Ravensong the performer. Standing in the wings, Elena found herself transfixed. He was like a meteor blazing across the stage, belting out the sweet, soulful sounds he was famous for or whirling in uninhibited abandon to the frenzy of the instruments. Watching him perform, Elena understood why he had become such an idol. He could transport an entire stadium of people into a world of sound and motion, a kaleidoscope of sensations bringing forth a primal urge in his audience. And when it ended, when the lights dimmed and the instruments fell silent, Elena couldn’t take her eyes off him, until he disappeared into his dressing room alone.
He never seemed to notice her. In fact, the expression on his face was distant and serene as if performing transported him to a place far from the physical world. Rarely did he show at the after-parties and often she didn’t see him until sound check the next day.
She knew she was falling in love with him, but she wasn’t sure if it was Ravensong the man, or Ravensong the idol. And she knew that loving Ravensong the idol was no different than all of his fans loved him. It was easy to forget the troubled, wounded person when all one saw was the glamour.
Sipping a glass of wine while curled up on the couch in the reception room behind the stage, Elena watched the band members and roadies talking and laughing with a number of groupies who had won backstage passes in a radio contest. Robert didn’t pay much attention to the groupies, toying with his piano, but Elliot and Ralph chatted them up shamelessly. Once in awhile Elliot would give her a good natured wink, but mostly he waxed on about all of the experiences he’d had on the road. Elena suspected most of it was talk.
Michael sat near them, sipping a beer and laughing, but Elena had come to realize he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Julian never came to an after-party. He usually left once the final curtain fell and yet, he continued to hold his morning meetings without fail, even on the plane. Elena suspected it was more to impress the public, than any real need to inform the band. Julian’s management style was very different from David’s.
Julian operated on a need-to-know basis, a fact that frustrated the band members. Elena had learned to ignore it, but his constant gibes at Ravensong rankled.
Ralph’s voice lifted over the hum of conversation, telling a rather raunchy riddle to one of the groupies. It completely went over her head, but Elena couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her. Lifting her wine glass, she took a sip.
“You’d better be careful,” came a familiar voice.
Elena looked up into Ravensong’s eyes. “With what?”
He hunkered down beside her, keeping to the shadows. “This life becomes addicting. Before you know it, it has its hooks in you and you start drowning.”
“Spoken like a man who knows from which he speaks.”
He met her gaze. “Yeah,” he said, then took a seat on the floor, resting his arm on the couch beside her. “None of this is real. The drinking, the women, the attention – it’s all concocted to make you forget what you really are and think you’re something more...invincible.”
“You made it back alive,” she said with a smile, hoping to lighten his mood.
He had been watching Elliot, but he shifted and stared at her, his expression haunted. “Just barely,” he said.
“Tell me about it.”
“What’s to tell? I was nineteen and I almost killed myself, twice – once accidentally and once deliberately.”
She shifted on the couch so she was facing him. Reaching out, she encircled his wrist, pressing back the cuff of his sleeve. He started to pull away, but stopped, drawing in a ragged breath. Elena traced the scar with her thumb, then released him.
“Why?”
“I thought I couldn’t take the pain any more. Heroin is a vicious drug. No matter what they give you, it hurts to go off it. Death seemed preferable.”
“But you did it. You got clean.”
He sighed. “It’s a tenuous thing, Elena. I always feel like I’m tottering on the brink. If I were to tell you that I’d ever stop wanting it, I’d be lying to both of us.”
“How did it go so far?”