World Tour (Rocking The Pop Star Book 2)

by L. V. Lewis

  Only one person I know signs off a message like that. Only one makes a heart with her kiss in the middle and a period below it to end a sentence. The only one to ever do all of it is supposed to be dead, her ashes in an urn in Downers Grove, IL. Each stroke of the words feels like punches to my gut, because all of it looks like a message from Kim.

  I stare at it so long that I lose bits of time.

  This isn’t possible. It can’t be. Even with the evidence right in front of me, I can’t accept it.

  I’ve never been one to buy into those shit and nonsense shows on ghosts. I believe in what you can feel and what you can see.

  I move closer to the mirror. I swipe my finger through the heart and look at it. There’s no mistaking that color, one that looked so good on her but looked like blood when it got on my skin after her kisses. Even now, the color stains my skin like blood.

  A knock on the door makes me jump.

  “Yeah,” I call out without looking away from the message.

  “It’s me,” Malik says behind the door. “Just letting you know we’re headed to the club. Place checked out, so we’re taking Sky over now.”

  “Good, good,” I tell him. “I’ll see you back at the hotel later.”

  He pauses a bit and then asks, “You okay in there, Brody.”

  “Fine. Just tired. Watch out for Sky tonight.”

  “Always do,” he says. ”Something I should know?”

  “No,” I call back.

  When I don’t hear him for a few minutes, I figure he’s gone.

  I use a towel to scrub away the message but it only smears lipstick on the mirror. I wet one end of the towel with soap and warm water from the adjoining bathroom. I scrub hard, almost to the point of breaking the mirror. If this is some fan’s idea of a joke, I’m not laughing.

  Five

  Minneapolis, Minnesota

  BRODY

  I’m jumpy on the entire flight to Minnesota. Sky asks me what’s wrong, but I dismiss it as being tired. The way she eyes me cautiously, I’m certain she doesn’t believe my answer too well. She stares at me with concern before letting it go.

  I’m relieved because I don’t know how to tell her the truth without her freaking out or thinking I’m nuts. It was a cryptic thing to read, but Sky has more than enough to think about for the rest of her tour.

  Maybe it’s nothing to worry about. Lots of entertainers have obsessed fans. Not all of them are dangerous, even though some can be overzealous. For all I know, it could have been some diehard music lover who can’t separate reality from fantasy.

  I keep checking around us to see if anyone is following us or acting suspicious. I spot no one, and from the looks Sky and Malik give me, I know I’m not being subtle about my paranoia.

  Sky is scheduled to make an appearance at a small charity event in Minneapolis right after our concert. I scheduled it weeks ago because of both good publicity and convenience for her to interact with the public.

  “We should go together,” Sky says when we get to our room.

  “Go where?” I ask, setting out our suitcases.

  “To this charity fundraiser.”

  I shake my head. “They want to see you, Sky. Not me.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it.”

  “It’s your tour, Sky. I’m not going to hijack it from you by hogging the spotlight.”

  “First, I’d never think that of you. I know you hate promos as much as I do. Second, did you ever think that I just want my boyfriend Brody with me sometimes and not Brody my highly proficient manager and amazing singer?”

  She pouts at me, and I can’t help but laugh. It feels good after the stress I’ve been under since finding that message.

  I pull her close to me. “I’m an idiot sometimes,” I say. “Sometimes the business side of me takes over when it comes to you.”

  “Which is one of the reasons why I love you. You’re always looking out for me.”

  “And part of that means being the dutiful boyfriend you deserve.”

  “Damn straight,” I hear Alyssa yell from behind us. “Sometimes a girl just needs her guy.”

  Sky nods. “What she said.”

  “I’d be honored to go to the fundraiser with you,” I say with a mock bow, although it’s hard to do it without looking silly buckled in.

  Sky’s face brightens up as she smiles up at me, and I realize I would do anything for this woman.

  “It’s a date,” she says.

  I can’t hold myself back from kissing her, lips soft and pliable. I could do this all damn day.

  “Easy you two,” Alyssa says. “Some of us are sans loving back here.”

  I grin against Sky’s lips before kissing her once more.

  “Better, Alyssa?”

  “It’ll do,” she says before going back to her fashion magazine.

  “Happy to please,” I say as Sky rests her head on her shoulder.

  Sky’s right. I hate promo events. It’s usually full of wannabes, assholes, and showoffs, not always in that order. Charity events are worse because most of the people who go love to flash their money. I wonder about the characters who will be there tonight, but with Sky by my side, I may be able to handle the nonsense.

  ***

  The fundraiser takes place in a museum with abstract art I don’t begin to understand that also has a wide entrance that leads into a ritzy bar next door. It appears to be the retro craze for the elite: confusing art and expensive liquor combined into one cultural experience.

  The only reason I set it up as a stop for Sky is because the owner has been a big donor to Sky’s charities like her Sky Girl leadership program for middle and high school girls and other similar programs in the local area. That meant good publicity for Sky’s charity and her tour.

  I walk around with Sky and meet most of the people in here. Some are a little too excited for my taste, and I wonder if any of them fit the profile of someone who writes crazy messages in dressing rooms from dead people.

  Sky and Alyssa talk to some of the artists selling their work for charity, and I nod to the bar so Sky knows I’m nearby. The last thing I can do is bullshit an understanding of the pieces on display.

  I move to a VIP section in the bar, which the owners have set up for Sky and occupy myself with my one bottle of beer that I know I’ll never finish, even if it’s triple the price in a liquor store.

  “Damn, Saban. Almost didn’t recognize you.”

  I look over to a familiar voice to find my past staring back at me.

  “Dylan?” I asked. “What the hell are you doing here?” I shake the man’s hand and give him a friendly hug. I am not expecting to see my old band mate, but here Dylan Castle is in the flesh, the best drummer I ever heard on a rock stage.

  “Just had to see it for myself,” Dylan says. “I almost didn’t believe it. You’ve been out of the spotlight for so long, and I just had to see if it was real or complete bullshit that you really did come back into the business.”

  “Not sure about being back,” I say. “Sit, man.”

  He sits in the leather seat next to me. He looks good for someone I haven’t seen in years. His former shoulder-length hair is trimmed down but still long enough to cover his ears. He used to rock a long mane as the drummer for The Savages, but now it’s a more managed style than the instant bedhead look he used to wear. I know his arms still sport his colorful tattoos, but they’re covered by the black jacket he has on.

  “So you finally decide to crawl out from your bat cave and grace us with your precious voice again?” he asks.

  I laugh. Anyone else, and I’d think they were insulting me. Dylan has always been honest and snarky at the same time.

  “I wouldn’t go that far, man,” I say. “It’s only a few songs.”

  “A few songs, huh? Well, tell that to the music world, which has been in a shit storm since you came back.”

  “Whatever,” I say. I drink a small sip of beer, but it’s no longer cold and tastes bitter
in my mouth. I’m not sure if it’s really the beer that annoys me or if it has something to do with old memories flooding through my head after seeing Dylan again.

  “I’m serious,” Dylan says. “You sure know how to make a reappearance. Always did have a flair for the dramatic. Not only do you come back out in the music spotlight, but you do so with pop royalty. I got a handed to you. It’s genius.”

  I immediately feel defensive for Sky and any implications as to why I’m with her. The way he says it sounds like I’m using her in some way. “I didn’t plan for that to happen. It just did. If I had it my way, I would’ve stayed hidden.”

  Dylan looks away. “You can’t still be hung up on the past. I told you then and I’m telling you now, none of that shit was your fault. We were all adults and knew what we were into. Kim was no different. In fact, she’d probably come back just to beat your ass if she knew you were still on that guilt train.”

  I smile a little, because he describes Kim to perfection. Before the drugs, she was a wildcat when it came to setting people straight, especially those she cared about.

  I take another sip of putrid beer. “Let’s not talk about that now.” I shift in my seat. “I’d rather talk about what you’re doing here in Minnesota.”

  “Well, to be honest, it’s not just me.”

  I look at Dylan, who nods the roped-off area of the VIP section. I spot three other guys, who I immediately recognize as the rest of The Savages. Finn, George, and Stephen look older, like life has caught up with them, but there’s no mistaking who they are.

  “We heard you might be coming to the charity thing tonight,” Dylan says, “and since those guys wouldn’t be caught dead at a pop idol’s concert, figured we’d try to catch you here. Hope you don’t mind.”

  Seeing them all again under one roof is a little jarring at first, but I can’t say it is nice to see you.

  “Hell, no. I don’t mind,” I say and beckon the rest of them over.

  “What’s up, man?” Finn asks when they get over to us.

  “A lot now that you guys are back around,” I say, not really sure if I mean it genuinely. Although it is nice to see the guys again, there so much past history in the air, but I would rather soon forget than remember everything again.

  “It’s good to see you, Savage,” George says. “Been a long time.”

  “Too long,” I say.

  Stephen is the last to come up to me, and I can’t say it isn’t awkward.

  “What’s up?” he asks.

  “Nothing much,” I said.

  Stephen shakes my hand and leaves it at that before taking a seat far away from me at the end of the section. I don’t miss the fact that he can’t look me in the eye for long.

  “Nice surprise seeing you all here,” I tell them. “You guys have aged well.”

  “Like fine wine,” George says with a chuckle. “You don’t look so bad yourself Savage. Not as wild looking as you usually sport.”

  “Can’t look that crazy now,” Finn says. “He’d scare those pop kids senseless.”

  “Funny,” I say. Then something Dylan said earlier comes to mind. “How did you guys find me anyway?” I ask.

  They all look at each other, but it’s Stephen who answers.

  “Come on, Savage,” Stephen says. “As famous as you are now, you’re not hard to find at all.”

  His tone doesn’t sound as teasing as the others. In fact, it sounds downright bitter.

  I choose to ignore it and move on. “So you decide to take a road trip to Minnesota just to say hi?”

  “We just wanted to see if it was true,” Finn says.

  “I’m not some mythical creature, guys. I just needed a break to clear my head, you know? After everything.”

  I think I hear a scoff from Stephen, but I don’t press him.

  “Can’t old band mates just hang out and shoot the shit for a bit?” George says.

  I grin. “Although it’s good to see you, I have a feeling it’s more than to see me back out here. Besides, you guys were never good at keeping shit to yourself.”

  They all look at each other before turning back to me.

  Dylan clears his throat. “I think we were hoping to ease into this a little better,” he says. “But you’re always one to get straight to the point, Saban. Since you’re back in the game, it kind of got us thinking.”

  “Thinking what?” I ask. The way they keep looking at each other before talking is making me nervous, but I don’t show it. I’m as still as I can be until the next one of them speaks.

  “We were thinking maybe we should give it another go,” George says. “You know? Maybe get the band back together.”

  “Now that you’re back, it kind of makes sense,” Finn says. “After all, there’s no Savages without you.”

  I’m quick to imagine our moments as a group all of a sudden. I remember the feel of the music with Dylan beating the drums like a madman, George strumming the bass with a skill that can only be described as possession, and Stephen playing the keyboard only his fingers can glide out into perfect rock beats. Back then, I played and sang like I was giving away part of my soul. Maybe I did leave part of myself on the stage with every performance.

  There is something about singing that connects you and your audience on another level. It’s hard not to give pieces of you away with each intimate song, whether it be fast or slow.

  “Snap out of it, man,” Stephen says. “Are you game or not?”

  “For what?” I ask.

  “Bringing back The Savages,” Finn says.

  “There’s no band without Savage Saban,” George says. “We may have played the music, but you were the voice.”

  “Not the only voice,” Stephen says, his eyes boring into me.

  “Of course not,” I say. “Kim was a major part of our success, and we all know it.”

  He nods his head, seeming satisfied at my acknowledgement. I never once forget that since I retired from the band. I may have neglected her back then, but I’m wiser now. Kim was our backbone. Without her, we would have crumbled a lot sooner.

  “Hey, Brody,” Sky says as she moves over to us.

  I stand up and put my arm around her waist as she comes closer with Alyssa in tow. I’ve never been so relieved to see her.

  “Guys, this is my girlfriend, Sky, and her best friend, Alyssa. Ladies, meet the rest of The Savages.”

  Dylan stands immediately and nods his head in a greeting. When his eyes land on Alyssa, he moves closer to take her hand and kisses it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alyssa. I’m Dylan.”

  “Hey, Dylan.”

  He holds her hand a lot longer than necessary. I forget Dylan can lay on the charm like a pro. Guess things don’t change that much.

  “What are you guys talking about over here?” Sky asks. I can tell she means it as jest, but it only brings the question they want me answer back to the surface.

  At this point, I’m not even sure anymore and don’t know where to begin.

  Six

  SKY

  I can see the tension rolling through Brody from the art gallery side of the building. I quickly cut off the meaning of art conversation with the artists from tonight and drag Alyssa over to the bar with me.

  “Hey, what’s the hurry?” Alyssa asks.

  “Brody needs me,” I say.

  “Okay, and what does any of that have to do with me?”

  “You’re my backup.”

  “Do you know how close I was to having an artist to take home? Painter hands is what I need, Sky. Not all of us can have rock idols to warm us up at night.”

  I shake my head. “You’re too good for the tortured-artist types.”

  “Beggars can’t be...damn. Who is that sitting next to your man?”

  I turn back to Brody and immediately recognize his band mates with him. They’re the ones I’ve seen behind him numerous times in the videos of them performing. I can just imagine what it was like for them at the height of their success and se
eing them live.

  I zone in on the one Alyssa mentioned. “That’s the former drummer from The Savages.”

  “Nice,” she says. “I think you’re right. I’ve forgotten about the artists already and replaced them with drummer hands.”

  I shake my head. Alyssa and her one track mind.

  When we arrive, I notice the tension isn’t just around Brody but all of them. None of them answer my question about what they’re talking about, but I don’t push.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I tell them. “It’s great to meet the legends in person.”

  The two men in the middle blush a little, but the other two seem elsewhere. Dylan appears to be infatuated with Alyssa and vice versa.

  The guy on the far right stares at Brody with a look I can’t decipher. When he catches me staring he stiffens up. “We should go,” he says.

  “Just think about what we said,” one of the others says to Brody.

  “I hope you’re not leaving because of me,” I say. “You should stay. Better yet, why don’t you all come and see Brody perform. He’s amazing on stage, but I’m sure you know that. We’ll be in Chicago in a few days from now. You have to come. I insist.” I can’t help rambling. Each one of these guys has more experience than I could ever dream of. It’s one thing to be a successful performer and an entirely different thing to be a legend.

  They look at each other, and I regret saying anything. They probably hate the kind of music I sing.

  “Thanks for offering, baby,” Brody says, “but I think they have other—”

  “We’ll come,” the odd guy on the end says. “We’d love to see this new version of Savage.”

  “Good,” I tell him. “Show starts at eight so get to the ticket booth early, and I’ll make sure they’re waiting for you.

  I hope the invite eases the tension I feel between them. If it doesn’t, I only hope I didn’t just make things worse.

  ***

  “I need a shower,” Brody says as soon as we get back to our suite.