“Are you sure he’s really your boyfriend? Because I just don’t see it.” He had his back to me, pouring himself a second cup of coffee, but even from behind, I had a pretty clear mental image of his doubtful, slightly sarcastic expression. Not that I could blame him for having doubts. I had plenty of those myself.
Lee and I weren’t exactly an obvious match. Sure, we both worked in the music business, but even in our industry, rock and country were often worlds apart. Plus, where Lee was still busy hitting the pavement day after day, playing gigs in bars and at county fairs waiting for his big breakthrough, I had already made it. Obviously, I wasn’t in the band, but I was still reaping all the same benefits minus the pesky side-effects like being chased down by the paparazzi or having psycho fans steal weird shit like my toothbrush or underwear. And yeah, that happens more often than you might think. In fact, I think it’s part of the reason Blaise and Angel both go commando nowadays. That, and it’s one less thing to have to take off.
Anyway, outside of music, we didn’t really have much binding us together. Other than the fact that I loved his mother’s dog. It was the cutest damn thing I’d ever seen. But still, probably not a good enough reason to date someone.
“Yes, Lee is my boyfriend. Why is that so hard for you to believe?” Maybe I needed to hear it from someone else too. Or maybe I was in the mood to make an argument where there really wasn’t one.
“Um, have you ever seen a picture of the two of you? You’re like this rock and roll hottie with that black hair hanging down to your tight little ass and those ridiculous long lashes that make people forget to notice the color of your eyes and then there’s Lee. Lee with the pasty skin in desperate need of sunlight, the rolled up flannel sleeves everywhere he goes and let’s not forget, there’s nothing tight or little about his ass.”
“Just because he isn’t all tats and muscles like you boys doesn’t mean he isn’t still very attractive.” Shit, who was I kidding? “He has a great personality and he makes me laugh.” Well, it was half true. At least he didn’t make me cry, which was more than I could say about some people.
“The truth comes out. Your abs aren’t tight from sex. They’re tight from laughing. See, that makes much more sense now.” Royce was one of the few people I’d met that actually looked likeable when he was doing his superior grin thing.
“You’re a jackass.”
“Girls, girls. What’s with the name calling?” Angel was back.
“Royce was being mean to me.” I pointed my finger at him accusingly while pushing my bottom lip out in a dramatic pout.
“Who was being mean to you?” Blaise came stumbling out of his room rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand, still trying to wake up. At least he’d been coherent enough to remember to put on some sweat pants. Even if they were on backwards.
“Royce,” I repeated, this time sounding less in need of vindication. “What’s up with your pants?”
He dropped his chin to his chest so he could see. “Oh, shit.” He laughed.
“Rough night?” Angel sounded more sympathetic than curious.
“Probably just got a good ab work out in,” Royce said dryly. I bit my lip to keep from laughing while the other two just stared at him like he was an idiot.
“Sure, whatever.” Blaise made a ‘what the hell’ face as he went past him to the coffee maker, but that only made it harder for Royce and me to keep our shit together.
Thank God the sliding glass doors opened announcing Derek and a welcome distraction.
“Sammy says what’s up.” He held up the phone in our general direction and we all shouted back in unison.
“WHAT’S UP SAMMY?!”
Then Derek came around the counter and handed me the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”
I took it and wandered over into the living room before I started talking.
“Hey girl.”
“Hey Ava. Can the guys hear us right now?”
I casually scanned the room. All four boys were standing in the kitchen deeply involved in some discussion about a cocktail waitress who had waited on them the night before.
“I think we’re good. They’re still hung up on a set of boobs they saw last night. Apparently they missed the Adam’s apple that came with them. Think I’ll wait until after the first guy claims he nailed her to point it out.”
She laughed. “Derek just better not be making any such admissions.”
“Ha, yeah. Not likely. The other night he refused to give some girl his autograph because she wanted it on her ass. I think you’re pretty safe there.” Granted, it had been better for business if he had just run a sharpie over her butt, but I understood why he hadn’t. Anyway, I loved Sammy almost as much as he did, so I was all for keeping her around. Not to mention, I needed the exposure to estrogen from time to time. “So, what are we discussing that we don’t want the guys to hear?”
“It’s not a big deal or anything, but by some miracle I’ve managed to score an entire week off and since the tour is coming to an end in two days, I wanted to surprise Derek with a little romantic getaway. Think you can help me set it up? Was hoping you could maybe re-route his flight and send him out to Maui to meet me.” Sammy was an ER nurse who worked a shit ton of hours with a schedule that varied from week to week. Between the tour stops and her job, she and Derek virtually didn’t see each other for months out of the year.
“Hell yeah! Just tell me when you want him there and I’ll take care of everything.”
“Seriously? Because that would be awesome.”
“Totally. I got this. Derek is going to flip.” I was already bummed that I’d miss seeing the look on his face when he stepped out of the plane in Hawaii and saw her. It would be priceless
“You’re the best. I’ll text you my flight info later and we can take it from there I guess.”
“Works for me.”
We ended the call and I moseyed back into the kitchen expecting to blend back into the conversation with ease. No such luck.
“Why are you wearing Blaise’s shirt?” Derek was staring at my chest and I was fairly certain it had nothing to do with my breasts since they had basically disappeared in the excess cotton. I peered down and grimaced. Of all the damn shirts in Blaise’s bag I had pulled out a fucking AC/DC one. And not just any AC/DC shirt, which he had like a hundred of, but the Black Ice one. His fucking favorite and everybody knew it.
“Probably the same reason she came creeping out of his room a little while ago.” Goddamn Royce and his big mouth.
“Really? This sounds interesting.” Angel was scrunching up a water bottle he’d just drained in one giant gulp.
I was about to set them all straight when Blaise came over, laid his arm across my shoulders and said, “Guys come on. Let’s not give her hard time.”
I went to open my mouth to thank him and then, “You know she gets lonely when we’re on tour.”
“I’m sorry, what now?”
He moved his arm and went back to have his seat over at the breakfast bar. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s not a big deal. We all know life on the road can be hard, especially when you’re in a relationship, right Derek?”
Derek nodded. “Sure. But don’t expect me to come crawling into bed with you for any overnight cuddles.”
“Hey man, my bed’s always open.”
There was a knock on the door. Breakfast was here.
“No shit your bed’s always open,” I grumbled as I went to let in our food.
Thankfully, by the time I re-joined the conversation, it had moved on to other things like biscuits and gravy. And the fact that sausage was gross. A topic I was far more comfortable with than what may or may not have happened in Blaise’s room the night before.
***
I couldn’t help but notice that breakfast consisted of all the foods I went out of my way to avoid anytime I sat down inside of a Denny’s Diner. Ava’s passive aggressive way of getting back at me for the night before. Of course, judgin
g from the look on her face after I insinuated she had been the one to seek out my company last night, I had a feeling there’d be more in store for me later. And it would likely be just aggressive-aggressive.
Wasn’t my fucking fault she was parading around in my shirt this morning. I had a vague memory of her changing before she got into bed the night before, but I couldn’t remember why. Shit, was it something I’d done? Probably. Fuck. I was a mess. But she sure looked hot as hell in that shirt.
Chapter 3
“Did they bring you that energy drink you were asking for?” I was making my last minute rounds before the show.
“Brought me three.” Blaise held up two cans of Red Bull and nodded at the empty one in the trash can beside me. I also took note of the empty vodka bottles from the hotel minibar, but as usual pretended not to.
I shook my head. “I don’t know why you insist on drinking that shit right before you go on. You know it totally fucks with your voice, plus it makes you have to pee.”
He chuckled. “Okay Mommy. I’ll remember to go potty before I go on stage.” He could mock me all he wanted. The only reason I was so damn good at this job was because I’d been the oldest of five with a single working mother. I’d practically raised my brothers and sister from the time I was nine. Managing the band really wasn’t any different than dealing with four kids under the age of six.
“Don’t come crying to me when you sound like a boy going through puberty during the first set.” I went to close the door again.
“Ava, wait.”
“What?” I really wasn’t in the mood. I was still pissed about the little stunt he’d pulled this morning. Lucky for him, the day had been packed with back to back appointments ranging from the local news and meet and greets, to squeezing in a photo-shoot for an upcoming article in Rolling Stone Magazine. Unfortunately, there had been no time to have it out with him, at least not without anyone else noticing, and they were already way too far up my ass when it came to my personal business. The only drawback to my unconventional close quarters with the band.
“You’re still mad at me.”
“No shit.” I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling. There was no way I was looking at him. I knew exactly what he’d do next. He’d give me those eyes. The sad ‘I’m sorry but you know you can’t stay mad at me’ eyes. I hated those.
“Ava look at me.”
“No.”
“Avalon, look at me.”
I lowered my gaze, but only to snap, “Oh, now who’s being parental?!”
Blaise laughed. “Come on. You know you’re not really angry anymore.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that exactly?” I stepped into the room all the way and closed the door behind me. I had a feeling things were about to get interesting. I certainly intended to make them that way.
“Because. You have to forgive me. It’s written in the contract.”
I snorted. “That is such bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit. Did you read the fine print? Trust me, I covered all my bases to make sure you could never leave me. That’s in there too by the way.” His charm didn’t tend to work on me, but damn I could see why he never left a room alone.
“Look Blaise. You’re a dick. Shocker as this may be to you, I’ve known it for quite some time. So, yeah, I forgive you because that’s part of the deal. It’s not in the contract, but it’s what I signed up for when we became friends. I have to accept you, dick and all.”
He tilted his head to the side grinning at me and I felt a blaze light up my cheeks.
“Yeah, I heard the way it sounded, too. Whatever. You knew what I meant!” I turned to leave again. “Oh, and for the record, you’re not the only one with fine print in that contract. You ever decide to upgrade and ditch me, I get half of everything.” The door pulled shut behind me before he had a chance to answer.
I hurried down the long corridor. I only had one guy left to check on, when I ran into Gary, the stage manager.
“Your boys ready? The crowd out there is getting antsy.”
“Just about. How long before they go on?”
He checked his watch, something he seemed to do every ten or fifteen seconds. “Seven minutes left on the opening act. Then Finding Nolan is up.”
I nodded. “Perfect.”
I waited, silently counting to ten in my head. Gary glanced down at his watch again. I could move on happily.
“Yo.” I popped my head into Angel’s dressing room. He was busy beating his drumsticks on a small coffee table.
“Is it time?” He was already half off of the sofa.
“Not yet. Seven minutes.” I crinkled my nose. The smell of his incense burning made me want to sneeze. I loathed the smell of it, but Angel insisted it helped him relax before performing. Of all the guys, Angel had battled the worst with stage fright since they’d first started the band seven years ago.
“Oh.” He plopped back into his seat and resumed his drumming.
“Did you need anything else before you go on? Shot of Jack? Xanax?”
He grinned. “You got either of those on hand?”
“No, but I can get ‘em. This is rock and roll, baby, where booze and drugs are easier to get than bread and water.” I hadn’t personally shopped around, but I’d seen Blaise acquire both time after time in the blink of an eye.
“I think I’ll pass, but thanks.” Judging by his appearance which had a whole Lenny Kravitz thing going on – the dreads era - his behavior, and his obvious musical skills, Angel came across as your typical rocker through and through. But his secondary passion was health and fitness, so excessive booze and drugs were out for this drummer boy. Had always been. It was nice. Especially in the early years when the band had just started learning the ropes and ‘enhanced’ party favors were being offered left and right for the first time.
Blaise, Derek and Royce had all gotten caught up in the cycle of partying hard, sleeping it off until it was time to get back on stage and then starting all over again. Most mornings Angel and I had been the only ones sitting at the breakfast table.
Derek had been the next to sober up and Sammy had played a huge part in that. Royce came soon after, realizing that it would be better for the band’s longevity if the members were more coherent overall. The only one who still hadn’t quite made it out was Blaise. Not that anyone really knew how deep in he was. Except for me. But then this wasn’t the first ugly secret of his he had burdened me with.
“Hey, speaking of, tonight no social excursions after the show. We’re hitting the road right after the backstage party with all the VIP ticket holders. I don’t want to have to hunt anyone down.” I was heading out the door again.
“Might want to run that by your boy, Blaise. He’s the one with a knack for wandering off.” He lifted his head, “What time he make it in last night anyway? Saw him leave with that red head at the club. Not gonna lie, part of me was wondering if we’d ever see him again. Bitch was scary lookin’.”
I hadn’t seen her, but I’d certainly been introduced to her handy work on Blaise’s body. “And you let him leave anyway? Shit, Angel.”
He shrugged. “He’s a grown ass man, Ava. I’m not his fucking babysitter.”
“Yeah, neither am I!” I slammed the door shut behind me. As usual I had taken my anger out on the wrong person. I stomped in place like a two year old several times knowing no one was around to see me and then marched off, my fists still clenched. I had done my job. The rest was up to Gary.
Even after all this time, I still loved live shows. Most nights I was perched somewhere on the sidelines, watching, enjoying just as much as any other crazed fan girl. Because, I was. Had always been. Would always be, Finding Nolan’s biggest fan.
But tonight I was in no mood to see Blaise stand up there and sing those words. The ones that made every woman in the room, including me, believe that he was really that sensitive, lost and broken soul convinced that only one woman’s love could save him. And they all wanted their chance to prove that th
ey could be ‘that’ woman. If they only knew the truth.
Blaise was lost and broken alright, but he didn’t think for even a second a woman could save him. Not when it had been a woman who damaged him to begin with.
The bus was quiet when I stepped inside. It was nice for a change and I took full advantage of this brief window of alone time by sprawling out on the couch and watching the first chick flick I could find on TV. Pretty Woman.
By the time the film ended I was wishing for my own knight in shiny white limousine. Then my phone rang and I remembered I already had one. Sort of.
“Hey Lee.”
“What’s up, beautiful? Feel like I haven’t heard from you in ages.” I could hear quiet talking in the background.
“You guys on the road already?”
“Yeah, got rained out here in Oregon. Now we’re headed to Idaho. Hopefully we’ll have better luck there.” It was fair season, so all of the shows Lee was playing were outdoors. It made for an unpredictable tour and I felt bad for him thinking about it. Wasn’t like we hadn’t been there once upon a time. Except for us it had been dive bars and college campuses. Still, just as unreliable.
“That sucks. I’m sure next stop will be better. We’re getting ready to take off tonight as well. We’ve got one more stop and then we’re headed back to L.A. You guys going to be out west for a while? Maybe we can meet up.” I forced myself to part ways with the comforts of the couch and went to peek out of the window. I could hear the crowd roaring inside the stadium. Pretty clear indication the guys had just walked back on stage for the encore. Wouldn’t be much longer now and I’d have to go and chaperone the after party.
“We’re going straight across from here. Wyoming and Nebraska. Illinois after that, and I think Wisconsin. You’re welcome to come and join us though when you’re done following Blaise around.” There was a distinct bitterness in his voice. It was no secret Lee disapproved of my friendship with Blaise. In his mind I was disrespecting him by having a close relationship with another man. Even if that man had been my best friend since I was eight. But I didn’t expect him to understand that any more than he really expected me to end my friendship with Blaise.
Lost Avalon: A Finding Nolan Novel Page 2