Front Man

by Bell, Adora

  It took his full strength to haul himself over the guard rail. Jack sat on the edge, his legs dangling over the nothingness below. He wasn't crying any more. The cold wind on his face and the damp smell of the river were almost a comfort. A promise. He'd been sitting there about twenty minutes, when the buzz of his phone in his pocket disrupted his reverie. He pulled it out of his pocket. Jared. He hesitated, then pressed the button to answer.

  “Jack? Thank God, where the hell are you? Are you okay?” There was genuine concern in his manager's voice. Jack sighed.

  “I'm fine man, just needed some fresh air.”

  “Okay, well can you get your butt back here? I've got press people waiting, this gig is going to go down in history!”

  “Um...”

  “Come on Jack, you just need to show your face, then you can go right back to the hotel. Shall I come pick you up?”

  “Don't worry about it Jared, I'll take a cab. Be there soon.”

  “That's my boy. Just hurry up, ok?”

  Jack hung up, cast one last look into the black depths of the river, then swung himself back over the rail. Like it or not, today life went on. He had work to do.

  ***

  Sara rolled her eyes. Erica was laughing herself silly at yet another one of Michael's jokes, her legs draped over his lap. She had homed in on the bass player as soon as he'd appeared at the party, and with Erica's long blonde hair and blatant curves on display, the attraction seemed to be mutual. Sara winced slightly as Erica tipped her head back, and let Michael pour another shot down her throat. Her friend had already had way too much to drink, and she wasn't sure how they were going to get home. Although by the looks of things, Erica had no plans to leave any time soon. Sara took another swig of her beer. She was trying to pace herself, but she could already feel the buzz of the alcohol in her own bloodstream. Yet somehow she couldn't let go and enjoy herself. While the rest of the band were in party mode, Jack Carter was still nowhere to be seen. Sara kept seeing his face in her mind, the pain behind his eyes as he gazed back at her. It was silly, she knew, but she was worried about him.

  “Sara! Get over here,” Erica demanded, and Sara sidled awkwardly over to the couch where her friend was still entwined with Michael.

  “Mike says we can crash in his hotel room tonight, isn't that awesome!? Cos, you know, I don't think I should try and drive us home right now.” Erica giggled.

  “Awesome.” Sara said, trying to keep the disdain from her voice.

  “Anything to help a pair of lovely young ladies out,” Michael said in his syrupy voice, giving her a wink. “ Maybe you should come join us on the couch here, instead of standing around all by yourself.”

  “I, uh, just need a refill, I'll be right back.” Sara shuddered at the thought and hurried off towards the bar. As she waited for the bartender to take her order, she heard a commotion at the other end of the room. Looking up, she saw Jack Carter striding through the crowd, not smiling, avoiding everyone who tried to catch his attention. He was dripping wet, and unless she was imagining it, his eyes looked red. Sara's stomach gave a little flip as he approached the bar.

  “Scotch neat please Jim,” he said gruffly. He turned towards Sara, and she thought she saw him start, as if he recognised her.

  “And whatever the lady wants,” Jack added. He smiled at Sara, and she felt her heart melt. Up close, he was even more handsome than she had imagined. His scent invaded her nostrils, a mix of leather and sweat and aftershave. It gave her chills.

  “I saw you in the crowd. Did you enjoy the show?” Sara's eyebrows shot up in surprise; she wasn't imagining things, he actually had been looking at her.

  “It was incredible. The best one I've ever seen...you were, just, wow. When you sang 'Back Track'...I've never seen anything like it. It was amazing.”

  Jack seemed to consider her for a minute, and she felt her cheeks flush as he examined her face. Expression unchanged, he knocked back his Scotch and motioned to the bartender for another.

  “You really liked it that much, huh?” Sarah nodded.

  “In that case, it was worth it.”

  Sara shot him a quizzical look. Despite her nerves at being confronted with her idol, she felt she had to know.

  “Worth it? It really hurt you to sing that song, didn't it?”

  Jack's expression darkened, and Sara instantly regretted her question. She had touched a nerve.

  “I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry, I just...when you were singing, it felt so raw. Like it was more than just a song.”

  “You're not a journalist, are you?” Jack said, then not waiting for her reply, “ No, I didn't think so. You don't seem like the type.”

  “No, not a journalist. Just a fan.”

  After an awkward moment of silence, Jack sighed.

  “It always hurts. Seems like it's worse lately. That's why we don't sing it any more. Not when I have any say in the matter, anyway. But still, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Sorry, I don't think I even asked your name.”

  He reached out and shook Sara's hand. His touch sent a little shiver through her. There was something so gentle, so sincere about him...she hadn't expected that. It was so different to the commanding persona you saw on stage.

  “Can I get you another drink then, Sara?”

  They sat and drank, and talked. About life on the road, the new album, the European tour. Jack told her he'd been trying to learn French, and made her giggle with his terrible attempts. He smiled when she corrected his pronunciation.

  “I'm still not sure what you're saying, but you sure make it sound beautiful.”

  Sara flushed. Was he flirting with her? She drained the remains of her drink, and realised she desperately needed to pee.

  “Excuse me just a second...” Sara murmured, feeling a little dizzy as she stood up. As she turned to head to the washroom, she realised Erica and Michael had vanished from their spot on the couch. She felt a little rush of fear. Where had her friend gone? Scanning the room, she could see no sign of either of them. Surely she wouldn't go back to the hotel alone....Erica was smarter than that....but she was pretty drunk-

  “Sara? Are you ok?”

  Jack was at her side, his face a picture of concern.

  “My friend. She's gone. She was with Michael.”

  The look on Jack's face was hard to read, but it didn't make Sara any less anxious for her friend.

  “She's had quite a few drinks, I just hope she's ok. She wouldn't ever leave without me, not normally.” Sara tried calling Erica's cell, but there was no answer.

  “Maybe we'd better go look for her. I'll help.” Jack took her hand and led Sara through the crowd as she scanned for Erica. They checked the second room, and both sets of washrooms. No sign of her.

  “Let's try Michael's dressing room. Maybe they went back there.” Jack's voice was grim as they hurried down the corridor. Jack marched right up to the dressing room door and hammered on the wood.

  “Michael? Are you in there?” Sara called Erica's name, but there was no response. Bending slightly, Jack pressed his ear to the door.

  “There's definitely someone in there,” he said, pounding on the door again and shouting his band-mate's name.

  “Erica!” Sara called again, and this time they both heard the faint sound of a woman's voice from behind the door.

  “Michael! Open this door! Oh fuck it,” Jack said, and squaring his shoulder, gave the dressing room door a hard shove.

  Erica was pressed up against the table, her long legs dangling lifelessly. Her dress was rolled up around her waist, and Sara saw her lace trimmed underwear lying on the floor. As they entered, Michael spun round, his hands still under Erica's clothing.

  “What the fuck man? Get out of here!”

  Erica just stared at them vacantly, as if her eyes couldn't quite focus. “Sara..?” She slurred.

  “Michael, what the hell? This chick's off her head, what are you doing?”

  Sara went to her friend, supporting her as she slumpe
d against her shoulder. Michael rounded on Jack, buttoning up his pants in the process.

  “Dude, what's your problem? She's fine. Stay out of what doesn't concern you.”

  Sara helped Erica stand, easing her dress down over her thighs. But as her feet touched the floor, Erica's legs buckled. Jack had to help her carry Erica to the sofa. Her friend could barely keep her eyes open.

  “This is your idea of fine, is it?” Jack spat.

  “So she's had a few drinks. She's just another drunk little whore.”

  Sara felt rage rise within her, mingled with guilt. She shouldn't have left her friend alone with this bastard.

  “Just get out of my sight Michael, before I do something stupid.”

  “It's my fucking dressing room -”

  “Get the fuck out!” Jack growled. Michael gave a shrug, and left the room, not even casting a last look at Erica. Jack shook his head.

  “Asshole.”

  “Sara,” Erica whimpered, “I don't feel so good.”

  “Oh shit, I better get her to the ladies room,” Sara said, and Jack scooped Erica up like she weighed nothing and carried her to the washrooms. As soon as they reached the door, Erica seemed to come to and bolted for the cubicle. Sara sat beside her friend, holding her hair back, rubbing her back and telling her everything was going to be okay. At least, thanks to Jack it was.

  Finally, Erica sat back on her heels and leaned against the wall of the bathroom stall. She let out a small groan.

  “Feeling any better?” Sara asked, smoothing her friend's hair out of her face.

  “Mmmhm. I'm so sorry Sara, I don't even know what happened. I didn't think I drank that much.”

  “Could he have, you know, slipped you something?”

  “No...maybe, I dunno. I don't remember anything.”

  “Okay hun, well sit tight here for a second, I'll go fetch you some water. Will you be okay?”

  Erica smiled weakly and gave a small nod. Giving her friend a pat on the shoulder, Sara hurried out of the ladies room. She was taken aback to see Jack hovering in the corridor.

  “Hey,” he said gently, “how's your friend doing?”

  “Nothing she can't sleep off. I, uh, didn't realise you were waiting.”

  Jack smiled. “I had to make sure you guys were alright. We can take her to the hospital if you like, get her checked out?”

  “She's awake and talking, I think she just needs to rest. Thanks though.”

  “Of course. Look, how are you getting home?”

  Sara frowned. She hadn't even thought that far ahead.

  “Erica was meant to be driving us. Looks like that won't be happening. Shit, I don't even know if I can take her home in this condition, her Dad will go crazy.”

  Jack gave her a worried look.

  “Um, how old are you girls?”

  Despite the situation, Sara couldn't help but laugh at his fearful expression.

  “Don't worry, we're not jail-bait. We're twenty-one, but we just graduated college, so we haven't got a place sorted yet. Still living with the folks for now..”

  “Sorry...I figured, I just...”

  “I know, don't worry,” Sara said with a smile.

  “Look,” Jack said tentatively, “don't take this the wrong way. But I've got a big suite back at the hotel, it's only two blocks from here. You're more than welcome to stay....you'd have your own bedroom and everything. Might be easier than trying to get her home in this condition. “

  Sara wavered for a moment. The thought of a plush hotel room for the night was tempting, especially when the alternative was an expensive cab ride with a puking Erica. If only she had learned to drive a stick, she could have taken Erica's car. Damn. If she was honest, the thought of spending more time with Jack was certainly appealing...surely this was every girl's dream come true? But she didn't want to be another stupid groupie

  “Honestly Sara, it's just a bed for the night. No strings attached, I promise. I'd just feel a lot better if I knew you were safe.”

  The sincerity of Jack's tone clinched it. She might as well take a chance for once.

  “That would be great. Thanks.”

  He smiled, and Sara felt her stomach flip over. Don't be silly, she told herself, he's just being nice. Why would a famous musician like Jack Carter be interested in someone like me?

  Together, they escorted a very wobbly Erica to the waiting taxi.

  “Ambassador Down-town,” Jack directed the driver, “ service entrance please.”

  The car pulled in to a dingy alley, and Sara felt a little stab of anxiety. This is what happens when you get in cars with strange men, she thought to herself.

  “Not a very glamorous spot, “ Jack grinned, “ but saves having to deal with the press. I don't need pictures of me escorting two young women into me hotel room all over the front page tomorrow morning.”

  Looping an arm round Erica's shoulders, he led the girls through a shabby little door, past the kitchens, until they reached a service elevator. Jack hit the button for the top floor. Through one more door, and they emerged into another world. Sara had never set foot in a hotel this luxurious. Her feet seemed to sink into the hall carpet, and the doors were set ridiculously far apart, suggesting a decent amount of square footage inside the rooms. Jack guided them right to the end of the corridor, and inserted his card into the lock of a door that did not even have a number.

  “We're going to be slumming it in Europe I think,” he said with a grin, “ so the record company splashed out for tonight.”

  ***

  Having tucked Erica into the enormous bed, with a glass of water and some Advil in easy reach, Sara had time to truly take in her surroundings. The suite was huge, twice the size of her and Erica's college apartment, and boasted three separate bedrooms, two bathrooms and two reception areas. The crowning glory was the floor to ceiling window in the lounge, from which she could see the sparkling lights of the city stretching into the distance. As she stood soaking up the view, Jack emerged from his bedroom. He had shed his stage clothes, and was wearing black sweat pants and a dark grey t-shirt. Dressed down, he looked like the boy next door, albeit a very handsome one.

  “I don't know about you,” he said, “but I could do with a nightcap. Anything from the mini-bar catch your eye?”

  “Whatever you're having,” Sara replied. The stress of looking after Erica had sobered her up completely, and she felt like a drink might take the edge off her nerves. Being alone with Jack Carter was something she'd been dreaming about since she was a teenager. She still couldn't believe it was actually happening. Despite all the conversations she'd imagined having with her idol, at that moment she couldn't think of a single intelligent thing to say.

  “Scotch on the rocks, with a twist,” Jack declared, handing her a drink. Even the glass felt expensive, Sara thought ruefully. Jack stood beside her, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. It was so quiet, she could hear the ice cubes clink.

  “I don't know how to thank you for tonight,” she said at last. “If you hadn't helped me, god know what could have happened.”

  “Honestly, it was nothing. I'm just sorry that Michael acted the way he did. He's...man, he's not a bad guy. At least he never used to be. The whole fame thing just went to his head. We used to be friends, now I feel like I don't even know him any more.”

  “Seems like a creep to me,” Sara said, taking a sip from her glass. She wouldn't forget the look on Michael's face when they opened the door, the way it twisted with spite. No shame at all.

  “After tonight, it's hard to disagree with you. But I don't think he would have hurt her.”

  “He was taking advantage, that's bad enough.”

  “Sorry. You're completely right. I just...it's hard to think that someone can change that much. Can act like that. But the way he's been lately, I don't even know why I'm surprised.”

  He looked genuinely upset at the thought, and Sara stifled the urge to throw her arms around him.

  Instead she to
uched him gently on the arm.

  “Hey, no harm done. Erica will have a headache and a good story to tell.”

  “And now I'm here with you. That counts as a happy ending in my book.”

  Sara looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise.

  “Sorry,” Jack said, “I shouldn't have said that. I meant what I said earlier, I just wanted to help you out.”

  “I know you did,” Sara said softly. “You really are full of surprises Jack Carter. I came here tonight just hoping to see you up close. Maybe get an autograph. And now here I am, in this crazy hotel room, sipping scotch with a rock star.”

  “The rock star's the guy you see on stage. Right now, I'm just plain old me. A little tired, a little stressed and a little nervous about talking to a beautiful woman.”

  It was a cheesy line, but Sara couldn't help but blush. She wanted to pinch herself.

  “Is it really all it's cracked up to be, this life? Fame and fortune?”

  Jack considered for a moment.

  “I can't complain,, Sara. I've got all the money I need, I get to travel. I get to make music, which is all I ever wanted. The fame part gets boring after a while, I'll tell you that. Never having a moment to yourself, never being in one place for any length of time. It's fun, sure, but it does get lonely. It can be hard to get close to people.”

  “That must be difficult.”

  “Sometimes. But still, I know I'm lucky.”

  “I'm sure you're sick of hearing this question, but...Back Track. What is it about that song, Jack? When you were playing it tonight, it seemed really difficult for you. Or was I imagining it?”

  Jack exhaled and took another long swig of his scotch.