I got out my notebook and pencil. I thought about Mandy and Lucas and Beckett, and the words flowed. I filled page after page, stopping only when I felt like I’d picked up every piece of my life and examined it from all angles. I felt wrung out. I had a lot of words and had captured many emotions but didn’t feel any closer to a song.
—
Pem pulled me aside when I was walking into the venue. “I’m sorry. It had to be done.”
“She slept with Lucas.” It just slipped out because I’d been thinking of little else.
“Oh. That was bitchy. So you’re not mad? I mean, how could I have been clearer?”
I put my hand on his arm. “Pem. You were very clear. No one thinks that you weren’t.”
“Thanks for understanding. Interpersonal drama is band cancer—worse than drugs,” he said.
I didn’t fully understand, but it was good to remind myself that for a moment last night I was willing to risk my job, my ticket out of Lydon, for a one-night stand.
—
Beckett found me doing laundry in the basement of the venue. “When you’re done with that, want to go see Boston?”
“Sure,” I said, against my better judgment.
I tried to cover up and look as nondescript as possible, but even so, Beckett had to guide me past the amateur paparazzi staked out by the venue. Great. When pictures of Beckett and me surfaced online in about ten seconds, it would look like I was trying to get back at Lucas, when the truth was he was already in my rearview.
—
Beckett and I spent the morning walking around the Back Bay and Beacon Hill neighborhoods. The trendy shops, the stately brick brownstones, the cobblestone streets—it was all so adorably Boston, so different from any city we’d visited. I even convinced him to take a swan boat tour.
The whole time, we joked around and talked about superficial stuff, not going anywhere near the heavier things that had dominated our lives recently and certainly not acknowledging the fact that we’d kissed. I was just thinking how nice it was to be able to go back to normal without having to hash everything out, when Beckett said, “I have to talk to you.”
“I bet,” I said, plucking some leaves off a weeping willow. “I’m sorry. Kissing you was totally lame of me.”
“Not that. Well…kind of that. I want to explain Pem’s rule and why it’s not demented.” He was rushing now, determined to get it all out.
“Okay. I’m listening.” We continued walking around the Commons. I was only vaguely aware of the passing tourists and frantic businesspeople who passed us on the paths.
“Hollis was my first girlfriend. We dated from freshman year until the end of my sophomore year, which is when the band really took off.”
I was floored. This wasn’t public knowledge, and they’d never seemed like anything more than good friends. “Okay,” I said. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but I thought I could see where this was headed.
“Yup. We were serious about each other, but we were young. Then, a couple of years ago, she and Pem started dating,” Beckett said. Okay, I had not seen that coming. “He was really in love with her, and for a while she thought she was in love with him too. I was okay with it. I’d moved on, met other people, so it wasn’t a big deal for me.”
“How come you were all so secretive about this?”
“Sam always told us that we’d have more fans if we, and especially Hollis, were single. So we kept it private, which is how they preferred it anyway.”
“So they broke up, and she had to leave the band because of it?”
“Pretty much. But there’s one more piece. Not that long after they were done, Hollis and I hooked up. It was nostalgia more than anything, and I didn’t realize how screwed up Pem was over their breakup. So when he walked in on us—”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Not hard to do when you live on a bus. Anyway, that happened and, well, one of them had to leave the band and…I didn’t want it to be Pem.” Beckett’s pained expression told me he still had a lot of unresolved feelings about this. “Hollis hit the roof when we told her we wanted to replace her. She and Pem fought like crazy about it. I still have no idea exactly what was said, and I haven’t spoken to Hollis since the day she left.”
“Has Pem?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it.”
“Oh my God, the bet.”
Beckett gave a humorless laugh. “That was Malcolm’s ludicrous attempt at getting Pem to get back on the horse, so to speak. He worried about Pem in his own incredibly deep Malcolm way. I mean, there’s always some kind of bet on tour but usually not about that.”
“The never-ending bet. That thing was doomed from the beginning.”
Beckett gave me a curious look.
I ignored it. “Gross. Tell me ‘Parietals’ isn’t about you.”
“It’s not about anybody in particular.” He looked flushed, so I knew he was lying.
I might have confided in him before, but at that moment I was profoundly disappointed that he wasn’t always the fair, considerate guy that I’d made him out to be. Also, I already had a huge inferiority complex when it came to Hollis, and now to find out she came first with the boy I cared about too? It was a lot to swallow.
Pem’s insanity made sense to me now. Being in a band was already so hard. There was so much togetherness, so many emotional ups and downs. Adding romantic entanglements on top of that would pretty much always end in disaster.
Once we were in a taxi back to the venue, Beckett asked what I was thinking.
I’d relived kissing him a thousand times since last night but now I knew exactly why it could never happen again. “I feel bad for Pem” was all I said.
Beckett looked away.
—
We walked into total mayhem. The stage area looked like Bombshell Cosmetics had exploded on it. There were banners along the top and foot of the stage. Bombshell scrims were set up on either side, bracketing the performance area. Video screens, mounted high to the left and right of the stage, had Bombshell ads looping with the intention of having them run while the crowd waited for the bands.
Pem was going ballistic. Rob had Sam on the phone.
When he saw me, Pem stormed over. “How could you okay this? Will you look at this shit? There is no way in hell I’m playing on this stage! Fix it!” He stalked away and Beckett went after him.
Rob handed me the phone. “Hi,” I said.
“Is it that bad?” Sam asked.
“It’s pretty bad,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Fuck. They wrote us a big check. Pacific really wanted it,” Sam said.
“Can we get out of the contract?” I asked.
“Not at this stage. Take a picture and send it to me. I need to get on the phone with someone over there.”
We hung up and I handed the phone back to Rob. I snapped a picture of the stage and emailed it to Sam, then went to look for Pem. I didn’t know what I wanted to say, but I needed to say something.
I found him and Beckett in the dressing room. “Sam’s dealing. I had no idea that this is what their tour sponsorship would look like.”
“We will lose fans if they see that out there. We have credibility as a real band. We’re not made or owned by some corporation. The closest we’ve come is letting Pacific shove you into the band!” Pem’s fury burned a hole through me.
“I’m sorry I let you down,” I said, trying not to burst into tears. “I’d back out of the contract if I could.”
Beckett wisely stayed out of it. Pem saw that I was upset and backed off an almost imperceptible inch. “It’s not all your fault. You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. Sam decided to make a money grab. I should have known he doesn’t understand the meaning of ‘tasteful level of corporate presence.’ I thought we were talking kiosk in the lobby, not stage presence.”
“Why would Sam do that?” Beckett asked.
“I don’t know. Curry favor with the label? What a piece of shit.”
/> Rob came in to find us. “Sam says all the signage will be Melbourne-specific for the next tour. And the commercials will have Chelsea in them. This was all they could come up with in the short turnaround.”
“There isn’t going to be a next time if he doesn’t make this go away,” Pem said.
“They agreed to kill the video screens and side scrims. The banners stay.”
“One banner. The one at the bottom. Or I fucking walk,” Pem said.
Beckett blew out a long exhale. Rob looked at him. “I’m with Pem.”
34
We played the show with both banners. Somehow Beckett convinced Pem to go forward with the show, although he did hold it up for almost forty-five minutes. “Let’s live to fight another day,” Beckett had said. “Only three shows left. Sam’s already working on Philly.”
Pem didn’t speak to me for the rest of the night. I was used to being overlooked by him, but being pointedly ignored was a whole different level of suffering. If I thought bringing Melbourne to a new audience was going to be seen as a valued contribution, I was sadly mistaken. Pem cared about one thing only: artistic merit. We might not have seen eye to eye on this, but I respected his commitment.
Beckett moved back to the Melbourne bus, so I was alone for the drive from Boston to Philadelphia. “You can come back,” Beckett said.
I thought it would be better for us to be apart. “I don’t want to get killed in my sleep,” I said.
He laughed, but he knew I was right.
At this point, the guys seemed like they just wanted to get through the end of tour. Even Malcolm was lying low and sticking close to the bus and venues. Pem was so tense he could almost have launched himself into space, but when he remembered he had family coming to the Philly show, I thought he was going to start rocking in a corner.
While the events of the past few days had been hard on me, going home wouldn’t be an improvement. Before, I at least had Mandy. Now, if it had been up to me, I would have stayed on tour forever.
—
I walked into the dressing room at the Mann to find Pem entertaining his aunt Kathleen, uncle James, and cousin Evie. “Omigod, Chelsea Ford!” Evie was about thirteen and springy with tween energy. She bounced over and stood directly in front of me. “Mom, she used to be Lucas Rivers’s girlfriend!”
“Is that right?” Kathleen asked.
“Guilty,” I said. Pem smirked.
Aunt Kathleen and Uncle James both wore suits. They had to go back to work before returning for show time. “Evie is so excited to spend the day with her big cousin, Third!” Kathleen said. Pem chewed the corner of his lip and looked at Evie like she was combustible.
While Pem caught up with his aunt and uncle, I answered every question about Lucas Rivers that Evie could think of. It was a fun time.
When I tried to escape to the bus, Evie caught me. “Are you on the Spring Forward bus? Can I come look at it? Please?” Looking at it turned into going on it. She held up a T-shirt that was lying on the bedroom floor. “Is this his?”
I nodded and tried not to laugh as she clutched it to her chest. “Do you want it? He won’t miss it.”
Evie squealed. “Are you serious? I can have this? Omigod, I’ll never wash it.” She tore off her cute pink tank top and put on the T-shirt. It hung down to her knees. “Selfie?”
We posed with our heads together, making sure to get at least the top of her new shirt in the picture. She tapped her phone and it went out into the world.
Her phone started buzzing madly. Evie looked at the screen. “Omigod, everyone’s so jealous that I’m hanging out with you.” She tapped, not even pausing or looking up while she filled me in on her stream-of-consciousness ramble. “My friend Francesca wants to know if she can have one of your shirts. She loves the way you dress….Don’t think so….Maddie wants to know where you get your hair cut….Probably in LA, stalker….Everyone wants to know when you started singing….Ava says she thinks you’re so cool….”
We went back to the dressing room, where Evie continued responding to envious texts, narrating as she typed. “Hazel says she heard you got into a fight with Kate Martin….Ancient history, move on. We have.”
I stifled another laugh, but I doubted she would have cared anyway.
“Ella wants to know when you and Beckett are going to make a video for ‘Smash Cut’…It’s the whole band’s song, not just theirs….” She glanced up. “Although I could see the video being just the two of you.”
“That’s sweet. I’m so glad you guys like that song,” I said.
“Yeah, but don’t tell Third I said that about the video.” Evie was so funny and bubbly that she’d somehow managed to cheer me up. “Okay, girls, last question…Natalie wants to know if you wish you’d won American Pop Star. Ooh! Good one!”
“No way. Because then I wouldn’t be here talking to you guys!”
Evie grinned as she typed. “Excellent answer.”
Connecting with fans I didn’t know I had was a pretty cool feeling. She put the phone down and studied me. “I think girls like you because you don’t try too hard. You have your own style, and it’s different from all the other girl singers.” It was the best compliment I’d received all tour.
Pem returned from giving his aunt and uncle a tour of the venue. When he saw Evie happily texting away in her new shirt, he gave me a grim smile. All had not been forgiven yet.
—
I was determined to enjoy the show that night. This wasn’t going to last much longer, and I didn’t want to take it for granted. The crowd was really into the songs, which helped to lift everyone’s mood. I felt the way I imagined normal people feel at the end of the school year. Even though we still had a New York show, I felt like this was the real end of tour. Once we got to New York everyone would scatter. Since the guys were from there, they’d go home and spend the day off with friends and family. Some of the crew might be in my hotel, but it wouldn’t be the same.
I wished I knew for sure that the next tour was happening. I’d be a lot less neurotic. If I asked Pem his head would explode, so I settled for visualizing us out on the road, seeing cities in Asia and Europe. For now I focused on the show and reminded myself that even getting to have this summer was a fantasy come true.
When we got to the bus lot, all of my things were sitting on the pavement. The driver told me apologetically that he’d been ordered to return the bus.
I carried my things onto the Melbourne bus, where my bunk was as I’d left it. Coming back actually felt nice.
“Aw man, she’s back!” Winston yelled when he saw me.
I gave him a reproachful look. “Last night on the bus. I figured it wouldn’t be the same without me.”
He gave me a bear hug. “Of course not.”
Dave kissed me on the top of my head before getting into the driver’s seat. Oscar came on board next. We exchanged wary looks. He’d been the person Mandy was closest to, and I was sure he had thoughts about what had happened between her and Malcolm. I wondered what he’d say if he knew about Lucas. Maybe he already did.
—
The ride to New York that night was short enough that most of us stayed awake. Everyone packed and talked about their big plans. I felt panic setting in. I didn’t know anyone in the city. I could spend the day off seeing the sites by myself I supposed, but that wasn’t the way I’d imagined experiencing New York for the first time.
As Manhattan came into view, my adrenaline spiked, making it hard to catch my breath. I’d never been anyplace so big before. New York was always painted as a cold, ruthless city, but seeing all the twinkling lights, imagining all the lives being lived around me at that moment, gave me a warm feeling, a sense that anything could happen. We parked at the hotel on Union Square. I got off the bus and spun in a slow circle, taking it all in. Every direction I looked was a postcard.
All of our things had to come off the bus. People either loaded stuff into taxis or brought it into the hotel. We were all beat, so th
ere wasn’t much talking.
Beckett pulled me aside just before I went into the hotel. “Can I come by tomorrow?”
My breathing went shallow again. “What for? Don’t you want to see people?”
“What people?”
“I don’t know. People you haven’t seen every single second for the past seven weeks?”
He grinned. “Not really.”
35
When I met Beckett downstairs the next morning, he handed me a little yellow card with a magnetic strip. “What’s this?” I asked.
“Your MetroCard. You’re going to see the real New York.”
The wave of incessant noise and heat on the street almost made me take a step back. We walked in the direction Beckett said was downtown and wandered around the East Village and the Lower East Side. He showed me the Mercury Lounge, the club that gave Melbourne their start. “Our first gig had about fifteen people in the audience. Most of them went to our school.”
I tried to see inside, but it was dark. “Mandy would lose her mind if she knew she was missing this.” When I thought about what she’d done, it still didn’t feel real.
“We can come back and check out whatever’s playing,” Beckett said.
“Then can we go to the Empire State Building?” I asked.
“You get one cheesy tourist thing. Is that the one you want?” Beckett gazed at me with a solemn expression. I almost forgot what we were talking about.
“I can’t choose.” At least I knew I’d see Central Park the next day because we were playing SummerStage. It was such a big deal that our whole tour had been organized around this one show. “Can I see where you grew up?” I finally asked.
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