For the Record

by Charlotte Huang

  “Let’s get something to eat and we’ll walk you back,” Lucas said, grabbing my hand. Derek’s arrival and probably the pot had put our fight on hold. There were food stands all over the grounds. We tried to pick one with a short line, but it still moved excruciatingly slowly. By the time we got our food, I had to speed-walk. Somebody plowed right into me and knocked me down. My food spilled all over me.

  “Oh my God, I’m sorry,” the guy wailed. He was a scrawny, hipster type. I was actually surprised he was able to knock me down.

  I jumped up, but not before Lucas shoved him. “Watch where you’re going.”

  We kept walking. I grabbed Lucas’s arm. “It was an accident. It’s a mob scene in here.”

  The knockdown and ensuing shove attracted enough attention that some girl came up, doing an end run on us. “I told you! It’s Lucas Rivers!” Her friend squealed, covered her mouth, and stared at us.

  The first girl began grabbing random passersby. “That’s Lucas Rivers and Chelsea Ford!”

  Soon we were at a complete standstill, surrounded. Lucas tried to position his body in front of mine, but that was ridiculous because he was drawing more attention than I was.

  He texted Ray. Derek had obviously been in this situation before, because he put one arm around me and tried to clear a path with the other. It was useless. We moved inches and not always in the right direction. I didn’t want to be late, and being trapped like this was making us all panic.

  What seemed like hours later, Ray broke through the crowd with Rob. They started shouting at everyone to let us walk. With a lot of pushing and yelling, Derek, Ray, and Rob eventually got us to the signing tent.

  The line snaked around the inside. The rest of the band barely looked up as I slipped into the empty seat. At least they didn’t see the food stains on my shirt.

  Sam and Michaela stood to the side. She glared at me, so I knew my lateness wasn’t going to go unaddressed. Her baby bump was showing more, and while it was cute it did not prevent her from looking completely scary.

  The signing went on and on. I answered every “Is Lucas here?” with a cryptic smile before turning to the next person.

  Even though the day was overcast, the humidity threatened to take us all down. Beckett insisted on giving his chair to Michaela and finished the signing standing up.

  As soon as the tent cleared, Michaela rushed over to me. “Are you high, being twenty minutes late for a forty-minute signing? Do you have any idea how unprofessional that is? And you look like a fucking slob. With all the stuff you have going on, do you want to get a rep for being a diva? Because you have not earned it!” She kept hiking her maternity jeans up because her belly still wasn’t big enough to hold them up. “Goddammit!”

  Okay. I chalked most of that tirade up to pregnancy hormones, because I thought she was seriously overreacting. But when I saw the look on Sam’s face, and the way the guys avoided looking at me, I knew what I’d done wasn’t cool. The only thing I had going in my favor was that I couldn’t possibly be late for the show. I just had to find a new shirt.

  Beckett shook his head, took his shirt off, and handed it to me. “You don’t have time to go back to the bus. Pem always carries a spare. I’ll ask him for it.”

  Wearing Beckett’s faded black Metallica T-shirt felt cozy, intimate. I already planned to steal it.

  —

  The show itself was amazingly fun, even in the sweltering heat. We played to an audience easily four times the size of our normal show, even post-Lucas. The stage was a lot bigger too. I felt like I did for our first show, like if I didn’t control my adrenaline level I was going to be sick afterward.

  There was no sign of Lucas anywhere. While I didn’t expect him to watch every show, this wasn’t an ordinary one. In many ways, this festival was my big debut to the rock scene. I couldn’t believe he’d miss it. Whatever. I willed myself to focus.

  Fortunately, forgetting wasn’t hard. The sweaty, dirty crowd was completely insane. Girls sat on guys’ shoulders, dancing and rocking out. People held up cameras and phones, waved cups, and flung plastic bottles, sending water arcing high into the air. I sang like I was down in the pit going crazy with them.

  From the stage, I could see past our audience to other parts of the grounds. As our set went on, more people joined us. I felt like a super magnet, pulling people in. “Here they come!” I yelled into the mike just before the song erupted into the chorus. The crowd exploded.

  Afterward I could tell that despite all his doom and gloom, Pem was pleased. In a situation like that, performing in front of a bunch of peers, he’d only be satisfied if we were flawless. I was ecstatic that I’d delivered a performance we could both be proud of.

  —

  We all wanted to watch the Wronged, who were that night’s headliners. I found Lucas in the VIP area, drinking bourbon with Derek and Ray. Over time I’d learned that Ray’s role vacillated between security guard and resident best buddy. He rarely got so out of hand that he couldn’t do his security duties, but he came close a lot.

  I went to stand with Lucas while the rest of the band and crew stayed clumped together at the other end of the section.

  “I love this band.” I’d never seen the Wronged play live before, and it felt great to be on the fan side again.

  “I can’t believe they still perform.” Lucas snorted. “I guess as long as there’s taxes, divorce, and drug habits, old bands will keep playing together.”

  Whoa. Talk about not getting it.

  Since he was already in such a fabulous mood, I decided to go for it. “You didn’t watch our set?”

  “Sorry. I wanted to check out another band.” Lucas took a sip of his drink. “Where’d you get the shirt?”

  I looked down, holding the T-shirt out by the hem. “Beckett. Remember I got food on mine?”

  He nodded, expressionless.

  “I wish we could stay, but bus call is so early.” We had an overdrive to get to our next show, in Toronto.

  “Actually, Derek and I are going to stay and check out tomorrow’s lineup.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Yeah. But you keep the bus. We’ll stay in a hotel.”

  “You sure?” As usual, my polite Midwesterner reflexes prevented me from asking the real question, which was “Are we finally breaking up?”

  32

  How had everything gone haywire in a matter of days? Nothing looked better in the morning. It felt like a Monday. Everyone was touchy, their moods grim.

  Mandy avoided everyone, even me. She kept her head down and got to work. This was her last chance to prove herself, so it was probably a wise choice.

  Sam and I had a quick meeting about the cosmetics deal. If I okayed it, our partnership would go into effect as early as the next show. He’d gone over it with the rest of the band as to how it would affect them. Pem was skittish about the tour sponsorship part, but Sam said we’d have control over what went up at our shows. He said Malcolm and Beckett saw how it could be good for staying in the public eye when we weren’t on the road or doing promo. Their acceptance put my mind at ease.

  “You don’t have to cut the rest of the band in except for the tour sponsorship part. You’ll be the one doing all the work, so it’s up to you.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t know what to think about that.

  “And this solo record thing is becoming a real problem.”

  “They know where the rumor started,” I said. “They know it’s not real.”

  “Everyone’s talking about it online like it’s real. Makes the band look bad, like you think you can do better.”

  “I already said it wasn’t true. Can’t Michaela release a statement?”

  “She’s going to, but damage has already been done.” I dropped my head into my hands. What was I supposed to do? Lucas thought any attention was good, so he’d never tell Lisette to admit publicly that she’d made it up. I felt exasperated with everyone in that camp all over again.

  “Abo
ut Mandy,” I said.

  Sam slumped in his chair. “I can’t force her on the band. I’d say talk to Pem, but I know you guys haven’t exactly become close.” He said this like it was because I didn’t try hard enough.

  “Can’t she just stay for the next week? There are only four shows left.”

  “Pem doesn’t feel like just not rehiring her next time makes a strong enough statement. The rules are in place for good reason, and he wants them upheld.”

  “She’s an easy target. If I’d fooled around with Winston or Aaron, he wouldn’t kick them out the door.”

  “Admittedly, she’s easier to replace. But that’s also why he thinks if he doesn’t enforce it now, no one will believe it’s real.”

  “Why is he so anal about everything?”

  “He’s a control freak, but that’s what makes him great at what he does.” Sam started typing on his phone, so I knew the conversation was over.

  —

  “Where’s the d-bag?” Malcolm said when I got onto the bus. He sifted through a stack of colorful drawings.

  “What are those?” I asked.

  “My next tattoo. I get one for every tour,” he said.

  Beckett came out. “Did you talk to Sam?” I nodded. “Nothing?”

  Malcolm glanced up but didn’t say anything.

  Now that I knew Mandy was going, I just wanted it to be over with. It wasn’t my place to tell her, so I didn’t.

  When I saw her later and she asked if I’d talked to Sam, I told her I had but I wasn’t sure I’d managed to change anything. Tears filled her eyes. “This whole thing sucks. I want to rewind my life to a week ago. Everything was going fine.”

  “Just wait,” I said. “You can sleep on my bus tonight.”

  “No thanks,” she said. “If nobody has my back, doesn’t really matter where I sleep.”

  —

  After tonight’s show, Mandy was pretty much catatonic. Beckett and Malcolm scurried over to me just before bus call. “Can we sleep on your bus?”

  “Yes,” I said, nodding at Beckett. “And no.” I glared at Malcolm. “Suck it up. You’re afraid of Mandy melting down—which, by the way, you should be—but you can’t hide on my bus.”

  “Thanks. I’ll grab my stuff.” Beckett ran off.

  “Why you being like that?” Malcolm asked.

  “Because. You both made this mess. She’s taking the fall for it, so the least you can do is put up with a little hysterical crying and spend some time feeling like shit.” I gave Malcolm a gentle shove in the direction of his bus.

  Beckett blew past with about five bags slung over his shoulders. He couldn’t get away fast enough.

  “How long are you staying?” I asked when I climbed onto the bus. I gestured to his bags on the floor.

  “This bus is so outstandingly cheesy. I’m ashamed of myself for just standing in it. I doubt I’ll even be able to sleep tonight,” Beckett said. I stared at him, waiting for an answer. “I don’t know. When’s your boy coming back?”

  “Right now, seems like maybe never.” Beckett watched me for any sign of emotion. I shrugged. “At least we get the bus.”

  “Did something happen?” Beckett asked.

  “It’s more like something didn’t happen,” I said. He gave me a quizzical look, but I really didn’t want to elaborate. I shook my head. “I think he just needs a break. Tour hasn’t been as fun as he’d thought it would be.”

  Beckett looked liked he couldn’t care less about Lucas’s feelings. “I thought for sure when those pictures of him kissing Nina Maras went public, you’d kick him to the curb. Condo bunks, nice. Are they all clean?”

  “They are. But I’m taking that one.” I pointed to an upper bunk.

  Beckett laughed. “You’ve got some bus savvy now. Isn’t there a bedroom in back?”

  “Yeah. I don’t want it. You can use it, though.”

  He gave me a skeeved-out look. “Uh, no thanks.”

  —

  We got ready for bed, then picked out a movie. Beckett suggested a Martin Scorsese film and stared at me when I said I hadn’t seen any of them. “Yeah. I get it. I’m not as sophisticated as you all,” I said.

  He smiled and started the movie. “Have you made any progress on the song?”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve lived enough to write lyrics.”

  “That’s a cop-out,” Beckett said. “You’ve been through plenty. You’re just not willing to dig deeper. Maybe think about the feel of words. That matters as much as the meaning.”

  Sitting next to Beckett alone in the dark felt like maybe not the smartest move. Yes, he was my friend, but I’d always been attracted to him. I had no idea if he felt the same way, but I felt an extra charge in the air whenever we were near each other. Technically, I still had a boyfriend, or at least I thought I did, but that didn’t stop me from drinking in the heady, heavy feeling of being so close to Beckett.

  I barely watched the movie. Instead, I let my imagination run wild, inventing scenarios in which Beckett and I fell madly in love, wrote hit songs for Melbourne, and performed all over the world together. It was way better than anything Martin Scorsese could come up with.

  And then my phone rang.

  33

  “Hey!” I sounded too bright and cheerful for the late hour.

  “What are you doing?” Lucas asked.

  “Just watching a movie. Um…” I put my hand on Beckett’s stomach to stop him from talking while I struggled to think of the name of the movie we were supposedly watching.

  Beckett misread the signal. “Taxi Driver,” he said, loud enough that Lucas could hear him through the phone.

  “Beckett’s with you.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Stuff is going down on the other bus. It’s a little tense over there right now,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know. Mandy screwed around with Malcolm and now the sky is falling. So damn stupid,” Lucas said.

  “How did you know about that?” Between our fight and Derek arriving, I hadn’t had a chance to fill him in.

  “Because. I was with Mandy last night. Right before you guys left Chicago.”

  Something about the way he said “with Mandy” gave me pause. “Oh. Did she seem okay?”

  “She was pretty distraught, but I think I made her feel better.”

  His innuendos were so clumsy and immature, I was embarrassed for both of us. I refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing me get angry. “Are you trying to tell me you had sex with my best friend? Because if you are, you should just come right out and say it.”

  Beside me, Beckett hit the pause button and shifted to watch me, a look of concern on his face. I waved my hand like it was nothing, then brought it to my forehead.

  “I guess that is what I’m saying.” Lucas’s voice had hesitation in it but not regret.

  “Just let me know when you need us off the bus.” I hung up.

  I covered my face, but I wasn’t hiding tears, only wrestling with acute mental exhaustion. “That girl has gone off the deep end.”

  Beckett reached over and removed one of my hands so he could see my face. “Are you okay?”

  “My best friend’s on an express to Skanksville, but otherwise I’m great.” Now tears were starting to fall.

  “You know he’s probably lying, right?”

  I shook my head. I knew he wasn’t. Mandy had been completely unwilling to believe that I couldn’t save her job. There might have been part of her that thought I wanted her gone because she made things messy.

  “She’s not thinking straight. If she were, she wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you,” Beckett said.

  I tried to smile, but I knew he didn’t understand. I had this deluge of emotion and nowhere to direct it. Before I thought it through, I lifted my face and kissed Beckett.

  I could feel his surprise, but then he kissed me back. At first his lips were soft, reassuring, as if he worried I might just be coming unglued. When he was
sure that this was what I wanted, he kissed me harder, burying his hands in my hair. I inhaled the warm, clean scent of his skin. “You smell amazing,” I whispered. I hoped that wasn’t a weird thing to say, but the thought was fleeting because Beckett pulled me closer, onto his lap.

  After long minutes of some of the best kissing I’d ever hoped to experience, I slid my hand under his shirt, trailing my fingers over his strong back muscles, tracing up his spine with my palm. Everything about kissing Beckett felt so incredibly good that I forgot the rest. I started unbuttoning my shirt, but he took hold of my shoulders and held me away. “Let’s not do this. It’s too messed up.”

  For a moment, I felt confused. Hadn’t he been as into this as I was? Then I realized he was trying to be good to me. I was touched, even if being taken care of wasn’t what I wanted in the moment.

  We went to bed in separate bunks, but I could still feel his lips on mine.

  —

  When I woke up in the morning, every feeling that flowed through me ended in a pool of dread. I was mortified about making a move on Beckett, and I didn’t know what to say to Mandy.

  Fortunately, Beckett was gone. I walked out to the parking lot just in time to see Mandy climbing into a taxi. I raced over and banged on the window. She rolled it down but wouldn’t face me. “How could you? Did you think sleeping with my boyfriend would somehow make me fight harder for your job?”

  She started shaking with sobs. “Oh right. You didn’t even try! At least Lucas sees that Pem’s a lunatic and this whole thing’s basically a witch hunt. Pem’s never even nice to you and you took his side over mine! And you know who’s the only one who didn’t? Lucas!”

  “You sure he was on your side? Or was he just using you to punish me for not being dumb enough to sleep with him?”

  Mandy leaned toward the driver. “Just go, please.” When they were out of sight, I started crying too. She was really gone.

  I went back to my bus to hide. Not knowing what else to do with myself I opened my computer, only to be bombarded with alerts about Lucas and Nina Maras. Apparently she’d flown to Chicago to enjoy Lollapalooza and “get cozy with her leading man.” Unable to help myself, I clicked on the links. In every picture, Lucas and Nina had their arms snaked around each other’s waists or shoulders. The captions screamed, “Forget Ford!” or “Lucas Has ‘Hard Words’ for Chelsea!” I closed down the browser so I wouldn’t have a full-blown episode.