by L. V. Lewis
I don’t like it, but I can take it. It’s Sky’s reputation that worries me. She doesn’t deserve any of this negative attention
I hold back the information about the message in my dressing room. It seems like only one isolated incident of vandalism to that tour stop. No need to worry them about something that doesn’t seem to be a repeat occurrence. One problem at a time. Too much is bound to make us all go crazy before we can even get halfway through Sky’s world tour.
I am not sure what it’s going to take, but I’d do anything to fix the negativity thrown at Sky. I do what I do best. Make Skylar look great.
I immediately find another event for Sky to attend in Massachusetts upon our arrival. It’s not a charity fundraiser like before. This one is an electronic dance club to put Sky in the heart of her fan base. We all agree to let Sky go without me, because it’s going to be the best way for her to calm the shit storm I’ve gotten her into.
I put my manager hat on and go to work to correct the incident. I send press lists to the radio stations in Massachusetts, so they see all the good Sky has to offer her fans and the communities she visits.
Over the next day or two, the magazines have a field day with me. Saban Finally Kills The Savages. Savage Saban Returns to His Wild Side. Skylar Releases the Violent Savage.
The worst part is that Stephen can press assault charges against me if he wants to, and I expect it. He was bitter right after Kim’s death, but I couldn’t blame him when I blamed myself, too. I didn’t see him after I was cleared of any wrongdoing, but I figured he and his family were upset since they saw me as the reason for Kim getting addicted to drugs. I’m man enough to at least accept that responsibility.
I call my lawyer for counsel, and he says all we can do is wait for him to press charges or let it go. I fucking hate waiting. MMA helps with some of my impatience, but it’s still there gliding under the surface somewhere.
Sky has radio interviews to do, and her PR manager has assured us that all of them know not to ask her anything about the fight or viral video. If they do, she’s going to have no comment for every question.
I go with her to each interview just to make sure they don’t harass her. All of them stick to the allowed questions. Everyone except for Mad Dog Boomer. A New Englander through and through, he doesn’t hold back on anything. It’s why he has one of the highest rated satellite radio stations, despite his disregard for guests’ feelings. I didn’t want Sky on his show before the incident, and now I know if anyone is going to go off script, it’ll be his crazy rating-seeking ass.
I try to get Sky out of it, but she refuses. “I’ve dealt with people worse than Mad Dog, and they were worse because they hid their true nature,” she says. “At least he’s upfront about it.”
“I just don’t like it,” I say as we ride to the station.
“You mean you don’t trust me to handle myself,” she says. Sky looks more hurt by this than she did after seeing the video.
“It’s not that. I just want to protect you.”
“You can’t always be there when someone comes after me, Brody. Sometimes I’m going to have to stand up for myself. You just have to put some faith in me.”
I know she’s right. I’ve seen her handle her business with more wisdom than people twice her age, but I can’t help the way I feel. Call it a hang up. I let Kim down, in a way, and I refuse to do that for anyone else I care about.
Mad Dog actually seems friendly when we meet him, but I’ve heard his show. He can turn into a rabid beast worse than his name when he’s looking for information.
“You’re all clear on the acceptable topics, right?” I ask him.
He shows a full-teeth smile, and I immediately don’t trust it.
“Absolutely,” he says. “Let’s get on air, Skylar. My listeners are eager to hear what you have to say.”
“Ready when you are,” Sky says. She squeezes my hand, silently reminding me to have faith.
I have no problems having faith in her. It’s the leeches like Mad Dog I don’t like or trust.
The “On Air” sign lights up, and each second is like holding the longest breath ever.
“Welcome to Mad Dog Boomer Hour,” Mad Dog shouts into the microphone. “We have music and pop sensation Skylar Samuelson with us this morning. Say hi Skylar.”
“Hey, Boomerangs,” she says, referring to the name for Mad Dog’s fans. “Happy to be here.”
“Let’s get right into it.”
Skylar smiles. “I’m ready when you are.”
The stay on topic and talk about her music and then the tour. Maybe this guy isn’t a threat.
Mad Dog’s big smile fills his face as they near the end of the segment. “So rumor has it your ex Connor Weatherby was into some freaky stuff in the bedroom. Is that true? Was golden boy a nutter in the sack?”
What. The. Fuck. That is definitely not on the list of things allowed. The idiot added new shit that has nothing to do with Skylar or the tour.
Skylar stills and Mad Dog takes that as a sign.
“Maybe I’m wrong here and you’re the freak in the sheets,” he says.
I try to run in there and pull her out, but Malik holds a hand up to me from inside the booth. He’s got to be joking if he thinks I’m going to let this jackass berate Sky on live radio.
Still, Malik holds a finger up. He’s been with Sky longer than I have, and knows what it takes to protect her. If I’m going to start trusting her to handle herself, I have to start with him, too.
Except for brief look of shock, Skylar recovers quickly. “I’m here to focus on the tour, Mad Dog. But since you brought it up, I’ll say this. What Connor does or doesn’t do in his bedroom is his business. So if he is a ‘nutter in the sack’ as you say, I think that question would be best to ask him. I mean, no one knows your true desires better than yourself, right? As for me, a lady never tells, Mad Dog. You know better than that, so you and everyone else out there listening will have to just keep guessing, won’t you?”
That woman is not only hot as hell, but she’s smart as a whip and snarky enough to dance with the big dogs. Literally. I even see a small smirk on Malik’s face to match mine.
Mad Dog goes quiet, probably shocked Sky didn’t lose her stride and yell at him like some guests have done. From what I hear, one or two have even tried to strangle him. I can relate.
One thing is certain. I will never doubt my woman in high pressured situations again. She’s a natural in interviews.
I trust her, but now I need answers. As soon as the sign goes out, I storm into the booth and head straight for Mad Dog. I don’t touch him, but I get close enough to invade his personal space. I refuse to leave until I get answers.
I take in Sky first to make sure she’s okay. Connor has been the worst sore spot for her, since the ass made her doubt herself in the bedroom. If I could have a face-to-face with that imbecile, I’d thank him, because he missed out on the best woman he could ever dream of being with, and now she’s all mine.
When I see Sky is the essence of calm, I turn back to her interrogator. “Where the fuck did that question come from?” I yell, and my voice bounces off the walls.
“Chill, man,” Mad Dog says. “You said to not ask about you, and I didn’t. I figured that question was safe since it was on the list.”
“That wasn’t on the list we gave you.”
“Not that list,” he says. “The other list.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I’m strongly considering rethinking my non-violent approach.
“The list I found in my mailbox this morning.” He hands me a different sheet of questions, things I’ve never seen before.
Everything on there shows questions that could potentially embarrass Sky in an interview, things about her sex life before me and what she thinks about other sexual things.
“We never sent you this list,” I tell him.
“Someone did,” Mad Dog says. “It was in an envelope with my name on it. Look, i
f you don’t want embarrassing questions asked, don’t send it to the media.” He walks out as if this is nothing new.
“Brody,” Sky says, “did you say anything to anyone about Connor?” she asks me. The vulnerability on her face nearly breaks me in two.
“Absolutely not, Sky. I’d never betray your confidence like that.”
“Then how would he know asking about sex with Connor would bother me?”
“I don’t think he did.” That’s when the message on my dressing room mirror comes back to me. Someone is trying to mess with me and Sky to sabotage her tour.
Nothing else makes sense. I realize I have to come clean now. Otherwise, things could escalate to a level that can’t be controlled.
“We need to talk,” I tell Sky and Malik. I wait until we’re in the car to tell them about the weird message.
“Why did you keep this from me?” Sky asks.
“I’m sorry,” I say, squeezing her hand. “I didn’t want to burden you with it. This tour has been taking its toll on you already. I didn’t want to add to it.”
“What did I say before about trust?” she asks me.
“I deserve that,” I admit. “You have to work with me here, Sky. For a long time, I’ve pretty much depended on myself. It’s going to take me time to deal with my overprotectiveness and what I share.”
“Telling me the truth won’t hurt me. It’s the secrets that will.”
I nod, not knowing what else to say.
“Good. If you keep something like this from me again, we’re going to have a longer talk than this one.”
“I count on it,” I say and kiss her. What did I ever do to get such an amazing person in my life?
“I should have known, too,” Malik says. “It could have been something to put Sky at risk. That shit gets people killed.”
“Which is why I’m coming clean about it. I’m with you on this. I don’t want anything to happen to her. We need to figure out who’s doing everything, and we need to figure it out as soon as we can before they try something else.”
Malik nods. Even though he’s quiet, I can tell he’s thinking. Whatever’s going on, we’re going to get to the bottom of it before it touches Sky again. We have to.
If anything happens to her, I know I’m going to lose it. I’ll pummel first and ask question later. I refuse to see her hurt. In such a short time, this woman has become a large part of who I am. I didn’t exist before her. Not really. Although a part of me will always love Kim, I can’t continue to mourn a ghost.
I have to get through whatever is happening to put a rift in us because I refuse to go back to the person I was before Sky.
Eight
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
BRODY
It’s Sky who suggests I still perform with her in Philadelphia. I don’t want to make anything worse for her, but something in my gut says it’s a bad idea.
I skipped playing with her in Foxborough to talk with Malik about tightening security and monitoring all mail and packages that come to anyone on staff. There is no way something should get past us with the new protective measures in place.
Sky teases that when Malik and I get out heads together, we’re worse than the secret service. I’ll take the teasing if every decision ensures she’s out of harm’s way.
I’m fine being the dutiful manager, because I have control in that. As much as I love being on stage with her, my head isn’t in it. It’s in full crisis aversion mode.
Skylar isn’t taking no for an answer, and I can’t help but give in. Confidence on her is hot, and I refuse to let her go back to anything else.
When I perform, every night is a wild card. But when Sky pleads with me, I know I can’t let her down any more than I already have done. Maybe this will ease some of the worry I know is plaguing her.
I wait back stage for my cue. I try to readjust my guitar, but no matter how I position it, everything feels wrong.
“Fight through it,” I say to myself. “She needs you.”
When Skylar introduces me, I step out to play the opening to “Masquerade.” All seems fine, even though there are no signs for me or anyone chanting my name this time.
I block out everything and focus on playing the song, but my fingers feel like lead. It’s hard to pluck at the strings and hold the notes.
Playing comes easy to me. It always has, but tonight it feels like a challenge I can’t comprehend or win. The notes are off-key even through Sky tries to sing through it. There is no way I can join her in song when I can’t get the keys right.
That’s when the booing starts. It takes one person to start it and it rolls through the stadium. The sea of welcoming faces has turned to hostile territory.
“Thank you, Philadelphia,” Sky calls. She turns her back to the stage and signals the stagehand to cut the stage lights.
Back stage, Sky gets Alyssa to perform the final encore song with her, which I think is a genius move. The crowd loves them both. Their booing calms down and turns back into cheers.
A stagehand helps me remove my guitar and microphone, so I can enjoy the last song as a viewer rather than the entertainment. It awes me how Sky can change the mood of her fans so easily.
I am so enthralled by her ability that I almost miss the swinging light up ahead. It swings back and forth, and I run forward before I can think things through. I knock Sky and Alyssa out of the way just in time for the light to crash down to an empty stage.
I cover them both with my body in case something else falls. Malik is there a split second later to use his bigger frame as a shield.
Gasps and screeches come from the audience. It’s silent enough for a pin to drop and echo through the place.
Sky, Alyssa, and I find our breath, and I realize nothing else has fallen on top of us, so I slowly release my hold on them as Malik backs up.
Then the entire stadium scares the shit out of me by cheering. What the hell? It takes a moment until I realize they think it’s all part of the show.
I rush both of them off the stage to where Malik takes control of ordering the other guards to secure the place and dismiss the crowd.
When I help Sky back to her room, I take Alyssa with us. No one is getting separated until we figure out what the fuck is going on.
Things only get worse when we’re greeted with another mirror message in Skye’s dressing room written in Kim’s favorite lipstick shade: Hope you liked the show tonight. But this is a better performance. Kim.
Her signature heart and lip message is in this one, too, but this time the lipstick has an arrow that points to a box below the mirror.
I get the girls out of the room in case it’s dangerous and some kind of explosive device, even though it looks too small to be one.
Malik finally checks it out and gives the all clear for us to come back in the room.
“What is it?” Sky asks.
I hold her and feel her trembling body against me. Whoever is doing this in the name of Kim is destroying her reputation and making my Sky fear for her life.
“It’s some kind of flash drive,” Malik says.
Alyssa moves to the corner and pulls out Sky’s laptop. “Here. Play it on this.”
One video file is on the drive, and Malik hits play. A black screen shows with white words over it. You may have gotten away with it, but I know what you really did to her.
Shaky video comes on next, and I immediately see Kim fumbling in our old apartment. She’s clearly drunk, and hides something behind her back.
I know from the image I’m the one holding the camera. It shakes in my hand because I was drunk and high out of my mind, too.
“Brody!” Kim sings on the camera. “Come here, Brody.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, babe,” I say from behind the camera.
Kim pouts. “But I’ve got something you really want.” Her singsong voice slurs.
I stop the video and yank the drive out before we can see more. I know how this plays out. It was one of my lowes
t moments, and I refuse to let Sky see that fucked-up side of me. It’ll only make her hate me and look at me like a monster. I’m left wondering who could have gotten their hands on this video.
“What’s on that tape, Brody?” Sky asks me. Her voice is eerily calm. She doesn’t look up at me, and for a minute I think it’s worse than the look of her thinking she doesn’t know who I really am.
“Can you both give us a minute?” I ask Alyssa and Malik.
Malik hesitates.
“It’s okay, Malik,” Sky says. “Help Alyssa get her stuff from her dressing room, so we can all get out of here together.”
“Come on, big guy,” Alyssa says, tugging on Malik’s arm. “Let the kids talk. They’ll be fine.”
I’m left alone with Sky, and I’ve never been more worried about losing the most important thing in my life.
***
SKY
I know who that is on the video. I’ve seen enough pictures of her to know it was Kim. I heard his voice, too. It sounds like Brody, but not my Brody. He was obviously drunk.
I’m not naïve. He told me his last couple of years with Kim was some of his darkest times. He’s been honest that he even felt responsible for introducing Kim to part of that darkness.
It’s so different seeing them though, like it’s more real and heartbreaking than I ever could imagine on my own. He rushed to end it before it played out. I have to know what he doesn’t want me to see, or I will probably let my imagination think the worst.
“Why did you yank it out like that?” I ask him.
“I had to put a stop to it,” Brody tells me.
“Brody, whoever is doing this is trying to make a point. I have a right to see that video. It involves me now, too.”
“I don’t think I’m strong enough,” he says.