Passion in Portland 2016 Anthology

by Anthology

  Shrugging and with more confidence than I thought I had I give out the final words on this subject. “I’m happy as Heather Richards. He’s a rock star, he doesn’t care who I am. Sure he set us up with tickets, but he’ll be bored next week.”

  It’s true; he’s a rock star for the one of the hottest bands right now. He’s not just a rock star though; he’s the drummer for Five Myle Fools. I met him months ago at work, we had fun, and I thought that was the end. Everyone says they will keep in touch, but really who does that? Tommy Kelly, that’s who does that.

  Molly is my best friend but she’s wrong about this. Heather Richards is just another girl, Posey Richards comes with strings. Lots of strings, for now they can just float around until I’m ready to pull them in.

  I flip on my turn signal heading for the exit ramp mumbling, “I need some caffeine, and it’s still girls’ weekend.”

  CHAPTER 2

  TOMMY

  We’ve played this song for sound check at every venue for the last three months. It’s a great song, we wrote it ourselves, but Brent needs to change things up soon. My pocket has been vibrating incessantly for the last two songs. If I was up front playing the guitar or even a keyboard I could pull it out and take a quick look at my text messages. Sitting behind the drums I’m too involved, if I miss a beat it will throw the whole song. Even for sound check it’s not worth it to me.

  As the song finishes I drop the sticks and lean back to pull out my phone. I’ve been waiting for Heather to text me all day. She has a way of making me feel like a needy chick the way she pushes me off. It’s only been a handful of months since I met her, and this is the first concert she’s agreed to attend. Setting her up with backstage passes and tickets is a small price to pay to see her again. I offered to book her at the same hotel we will be at, but she said she has it covered with her friends.

  Scrolling through my messages there’s nothing from Heather again. There are at least a hundred messages from my little sister about her upcoming wedding. Who gets married during the holidays? My mom said it’s my fault, something about a busy tour schedule. It shouldn’t be a newsflash that everyone has a busy schedule, mine just so happens to be scheduled further out than most people.

  Brent calls out my name before I can get my phone back in my pocket. With my phone out of site, I pick up the sticks ready to continue. He’s been in a mood for days now; a phone during sound check won’t go over so well. As the front man for our band Brent’s voice has been dropping the panties off the ladies for years. He doesn’t have to impress us so we get a lot of his sarcasm, especially in this situation. So it’s not a surprise when he draws out his question like he wants to pick a fight.

  “Are we interrupting you Tommy?”

  Overnight in a hotel and away from these guys is exactly what I need. That and for Heather to respond to my damn messages already. Standing up I’m ready to throw this down and get it out in the open.

  “I don’t know Brent, are you going to let us play a whole song for sound check or do you want to keep stopping to check your dick placement?”

  From across the stage I can hear Shane snickering. Beyond the end of the stage someone is yelling trying to get our attention, but it won’t work. Whatever is eating at Brent has to be dealt with between us. That’s the way it’s always worked. All of us, except Sam, have been best friends since the first day of kindergarten and starting our own band in high school was an easy transition.

  “If your timing wasn’t off for every song…”

  Hell no, he did not just go there. He knows my timing is never off, he also knows that this is the quickest way to pick a fight on stage. “My timing is spot on and you know it.”

  “We can’t keep up, you pick up the beat and then you slow it down. Pick a beat and stick with it or better yet the play the song like we recorded it.”

  It’s been at least five years since I’ve thrown my sticks at another member of the band. Unlike other members of this band, I’ve shown great restraint. The only part I regret from the last time is that I totally missed him because he moved out of the way.

  Everyone starts yelling at the same time and it’s impossible to hear what any one of us is saying. The tour manager comes out on stage, I’m sure she’s yelling for all of us to back off. That’s her usual, I don’t really care though. Instead of chucking my sticks at his head, I drop them like a microphone and walk away. They can yell all they want to my back, but we are not tearing up our stage hours before a show.

  This isn’t the first time I’ve been off from a fight with Brent or one of the other guys. It wouldn’t even be the first time we’ve had to be separated for an extended period of time. There’s no way to keep us apart when we have to share a stage, a tour bus, even promo space day in and day out. The only solution is for him to get over his mood. That’s probably going to require a visit from Julie, if anyone can talk some sense into him she can.

  Pushing open the door, I pull my phone from my pocket as I walk across the parking lot. A little fresh air and I check my phone only to see there’s still no word from Heather. I have yet another message from my sister though, this time she wants to know if I need a date. The last thing I need is to have my sister set me up with one of her friends from college. That never turns out in my favor.

  Taking a minute to type out a quick response to my sister will save me from embarrassing myself, and sending yet another text to Heather. Of course sending one response gives me a barrage of other messages that she needs answers to as well. I quickly respond that all of the band will be at her wedding, I better remind them.

  Heather should already be in town and I’d like for her to have dinner with us tonight. A text can’t hurt anything.

  Me: dinner before the show?

  It’s only a moment until I see the word, delivered, appear under my text. It didn’t do that earlier. I’m hopeful as the little bubbles appear telling me that she’s typing a response. I watch as the bubbles vibrate and then they disappear. Cursing I can’t figure this girl out. Yesterday she couldn’t wait to get here; today she won’t even answer a text message.

  Behind me the door opens as I hear the guys laughing about something. Walking out of sound check wasn’t my greatest moment, but fighting before a show is ugly. It’s been a long tour and we still have a few weeks left before our break.

  Pushing aside my needy chick attitude I give up on hearing from Heather. If she doesn’t turn up tonight it’s not a big deal, there will be plenty of other choices here tonight. Dropping my phone in my pocket I turn to go back to the bus. I’ll make nice with Brent and we can get dinner before the show. As I take the first step onto the bus, my phone vibrates from my pocket. At first I hesitate, thinking it’s probably my sister. There’s a chance it’s Heather, so I pull out my phone.

  It’s the picture of her with her hair flying around her face that stares back at me. My phone was ready when I called her name; she looked over her shoulder at me. At first she stuck out her tongue, but I clicked a second picture when she started to laugh. That’s the girl staring back at me now, laughing and enjoying life. Groaning I let the phone ring again before I answer Heather’s call. “Hello gorgeous.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Heather

  The story is always the same no matter where you go. The finer hotels have friendly people to check you in, they offer you a hundred things in a matter of seconds, and you feel obligated to use at least some of their services. After we check in the overly friendly bellman takes our luggage for us, this one though hasn’t stopped smiling at Tabby since we got here. Even in the elevator he made friendly conversation with all of us, but it was Tabby that he couldn’t take his eyes away from. I’ve only known her a few months, in that time it’s been clear that she has no idea how many guys check her out. She has that classic beauty look, and she hasn’t figured out how to use it or hide it.

  As our bags are unloaded from the cart both Tabby and Molly disappear. The disappointment on his face is o
bvious. He’s about to offer services for the night, but I cut him off placing a tip in his hands for luggage service. “Thank you. We’ll be going to the Five Myle Fools concert tonight. Does the hotel have a car available to drive us?”

  The answer doesn’t really matter to me. We can walk to the concert from here, or I guess Tommy will send a car to get us. Actually I have a bunch of text messages from him that I need to return. Either way it was a good way to say we have plans, it’s not like Tabby even noticed him.

  Last year after graduating from college I wanted to travel for a while. My father thought it was a great idea; my mother however didn’t want me to just to ‘float around.’ It’s true that I could easily live off of my trust fund, but she has this fantasy about real world experience. She can go on for days about the purpose of life and finding our calling. Of course she also expects that I will eventually get bored enough to move home to work in the flower shop owned by my grandmother. The flower shop is great. I love working there. It’s the location of the flower shop that holds me back; I don’t want to live in a small town. I want to see the world.

  Instead I ended up in Seattle working as a set assistant. I wanted to work with wardrobes but I haven’t quite gotten there yet. As it is my father had to call in a few favors to get me the assistant job. It pays more than the wardrobe position, but it’s not quite what I want to do. It was also enough to tell people not to call me by my ‘given’ name, insisting instead that they call me Heather. It took a few days, but they had just given me a new employee badge that had my name as Heather the day I met Tommy.

  That was a few months ago that I met Tommy Kelly. It was just another day at work until I came face to face with him and his band, Five Myle Fools. I’ve been a fan of theirs for years now, it wasn’t as if I had never met a famous person before but something about meeting them left me unable to form sentences. Luckily they either didn’t notice or didn’t care that I appeared to be star struck by them. I’m sure it happens all the time, but it doesn’t happen to me. Anyway, they were there for their video but there was some technical problem that had us cancelling for the day.

  As the assistant, it was delegated to me to deliver the news of the delay. First there were technical problems, and then it rained for three days straight. Big surprise! Rain in Seattle, alert the media. So the video that should have been done in a day took a week to finish. It was during the three days of rain that I really got to know the band, or at least the drummer Tommy Kelly. He was my designated contact for the band; he didn’t hesitate to text me right away. Texting with him is fun; he’s always sending me something he finds online or just whatever.

  Tommy set us up with tickets for the show. He’s also the one that I have to call now and finalize our plans for tonight. He’s texted me a few times today, of course I didn’t realize my phone was dead. After charging it I saw his messages, he thinks I’m ignoring him.

  We went out together a few times while he was in Seattle. We had a great time; we also had just as much fun when the whole band was there too. I’m not a prude but I don’t sleep with every guy I go out with either. He invited me to concerts in several cities and I turned him down. Then last month he had a day off and he flew into Seattle to see me. I’ve wanted to see him ever since he left, so here I am in Portland anxious to see him. I just don’t want to come off as needy, that would kill our friendship or whatever this is.

  Before I can procrastinate any longer I click on his picture to call him. Seeing his picture reminds me again just how gorgeous he is, that leads me down the path of stupid things that come out of my mouth.

  It’s the third ring and I’m getting ready to leave a message when he finally answers the phone. I might have preferred to procrastinate a little longer. I mean we just got into town and it’s like I couldn’t wait to call him again.

  My greeting to him fails to be audible but he knows it’s me anyway as his voice melts my insides just a little. I’m really going to have work harder at the elusive thing.

  “Hello gorgeous.”

  CHAPTER 4

  TOMMY

  Finally!

  After waiting all day for a response from her she’s finally on my phone. Sure there have been times when I’ve sent off a text message and she hasn’t gotten back to me right away. She has never actually ignored her phone before, or not even bothered to respond to me. Hearing my phone ring, seeing her picture, even just hearing her breath on other end of the phone has me wanting to shout so everyone knows she’s on the phone.

  Hell yeah!

  It’s her on the phone but she’s being quiet. A little too quiet for Heather, but then it only takes a minute before she starts telling me about her day. She’s rambling on about everything from the battery in her phone, to her favorite new app, and it continues all the way through her drive to Portland. She can’t stop talking about her friends that she brought with her. So my hopes of having her to myself for the next day are shot.

  Heather on the phone is an experience, it’s more of a one sided conversation. I inflict a comment here or there, but for the most part she does all the talking. I agree to check out her favorite new app and generally agreeing with her on other points is what she wants to hear. I’d like to move the conversation forward to discuss dinner, but she’s not done telling me everything she needs to say yet. I’ve tried in the past to interrupt her, it doesn’t work. So I continue to listen, as she gets her words out.

  My band, Five Myle Fools, has been on the road for most of the last few years. It hasn’t been easy to move around from place to place, but it’s nothing to complain about either. This is our dream and we’re living it. There have been a lot of days and cities that blended into each other. The day I met Heather was definitely one that would be hard to forget. Our flight had been delayed; we had to go from the airport directly to the set. We were all tired and the coffee on the set didn’t taste much better than a cup of mud. Josh noticed her first; she was ordering people around on the set and checking things off on her clipboard. We were there for a good hour before she approached us introducing herself as a set assistant. We didn’t make it easy on her as we complained about one thing after the other. Finally she cleared her throat and gave all of us a look that said shut-up or else. She then proceeded to read us a prepared statement telling us that due to technical problems we wouldn’t be working on set that day. None of us cared; we all needed a day off anyway.

  As she stood in front of us she changed, at first I thought she was going to swallow her tongue. After a minute she seemed to shake off whatever was stopping her, as she read a prepared statement to us. It seemed strange at the time but she didn’t seem all that shy when she was staring me in the eyes. All we really needed to know was we were free for the day. We had just gotten into town after an early morning flight; the only thing we were interested in was sleep. Knowing we were done for the day the guys couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I stayed behind as they brought in my drum kit. That’s when I exchanged numbers with Heather.

  Our three days in Seattle turned into five and I spent most of that time getting to know Heather Richards. At least I thought I was getting to know her. She spends a lot of time messaging people with her phone; I follow her Twitter, Instagram and her Facebook pages. Heather has a lot of friends, and not a single one of them has a bad thing to say about her. I don’t usually give people my real pages, but she seems like someone I can trust. We’ve been texting most days, with the occasional phone call in between.

  “So I didn’t realize that it needed charged, then the whole way here I was charging the phone, and I couldn’t even turn it on until we were an hour out of Portland, and by then well the music was loud, and I was just anxious to get here.”

  Conversations with Heather are always an experience. The first thing I noticed is she never uses the word hello. She literally never uses the word, it’s like she doesn’t have time for a mundane task like saying hello. She always has so much enthusiasm for everything, by the time y
ou get on the phone with her she’s already invested in the conversation. Most of the time it’s a one sided discussion at best, if there’s a second opinion needed she usually informs you along the way. “I just knew you would want me here sooner than later, and Molly was making us late with last minute crap. I’m here now, but I need a shower before I see you.”

  She stops there like she knows what thinking about her in the shower will do to a man. I don’t even bother to look around before I adjust myself in my jeans. “I could help with that.”

  Of all the stupid things I could say to her that has to be the top of the list. She shut me down on the shower the last time I saw her.

  Laughing she lazily replies, “Not so fast rock star. Maybe after you get me all messy we can go there. You need to feed me before the concert, unless you don’t have time for dinner with me. So let me get ready and we’ll see if I need a shower again later.”

  That’s her; she doesn’t even give me a chance to respond. There is nothing I want more right now than to make sure she’s messy later.

  “Dinner sounds good. Do you eat seafood?”

  It’s a simple question that has a complicated answer. I listen as she talks about seafood as a meal and a hundred other things to do while in Portland. The oyster bar the guys mentioned is easily forgotten as she instructs me to meet her at the hotel. I’m anxious to see her and agree.

  “There you are.”

  Still staring at my phone in my hand, I didn’t hear Brent walk up behind me. He places a hand on my shoulder and leans in close to peer at my phone. “Is it going to do something?”

  “Asshole.” Turning off the phone I push it into my pocket before he can see what I was looking at. He’s been my best friend most of my life, so it’s not like we have secrets. We live on a tour bus, if someone farts we all know. Him seeing my phone shouldn’t be an issue, I just don’t want to share more of Heather than I have to.