by L. V. Lewis
“The only reason there’s an illusion that this fits is because Amber adjusted it for me.”
“Cool.” She looks at the back of it. “You even have tails. This gives me an idea of how you’ll look in the Maldives, but in a real tux.”
“Yeah, that one will be legit. This bitch is comic.”
“It’s Sky’s idea of a whimsical version of the wedding. Sorry you didn’t know beforehand you were going to be a Chippendale.” She giggles again.
“You’ve got a lot of jokes about me and this outfit don’t you?”
“Yes, I do. Feel free to crack on mine, too. At least this is the short version of a bridesmaid dress, and it might warrant another wear, but I mean, there’s no way you could ever wear that again, dude.”
“And for that I’m grateful. It’s a cheap imitation anyway.” Wearing cheesy costumes like this is another reason why I love rock and roll way more than pop. On stage with The Savages, I could wear whatever the hell I want as long as it has the denim, leather and metal aesthetic that we’re known for.
“I wonder how Brody feels about his faux tux?” Alyssa says with a mischievous grin.
“He probably doesn’t give a flying fuck. He’s getting married in a few weeks. A clown suit wouldn’t even give him pause right about now.”
“He is super excited to make Sky his Mrs. Kent. You have no idea.”
“I think I do,” I say. “In all seriousness, he’s getting to exchange vows with his soulmate. The woman he gets to spend the rest of his life with. I might begrudge him that slightly.”
“Only slightly?” she teases. “You’ve come a long way, Dylan Castle, but not nearly a long enough way to be talking about walking down the aisle.”
“You’d be surprised,” I say. “This past year has given me a whole new perspective on a lot of things.”
She purses her lips to respond but stops when there’s a loud rapping on the door.
“Places everyone. We’re on go in ten,” Amber’s voice floats through to us as she raps on the other performer’s doors.
Alyssa grabs her bouquet of silk flowers with a ribbon matching the color of her dress, and it’s my turn to laugh.
“You will definitely not always be a bridesmaid if you show that much leg and ass on the regular.”
She flips up the hem of her short dress showing her matching dance trunks. “Spankies. I’m not trying to have a Britney Spears shot of my hoo-ha trending on social media, thank you very much.”
“Good idea, because I can hold my own, but I couldn’t possibly beat the shit out of every man who got an unauthorized glimpse of your hoo-ha, either.”
She frowns. “Now that is just wrong on so many levels, Dylan.” She puts in her earpiece and heads out the door, and I follow.
“I wouldn’t let anyone do anything like that to you on my watch. We may not be dating anymore, but I care what happens to you.”
“Thanks,” she says, but it sounds more like a question.
Sky and Brody join us as we all wind through the cinderblock corridors to the stage. Sky, as the bride, is in a white lace mini dress with an abbreviated train, but she’s also wearing a short veil and tiara. It’s then I notice that Brody’s faux tux is leather, and I have immediate faux tux envy. “What gives, Sav?” I say. “You could’ve had us all wearing leather.”
“Sky’s show. Her costume choice,” Brody says without missing a beat.
Sky gives me an apologetic smile. “It’s not what you’re used to, is it?”
“Not at all, but in honor of your gift to the fans, I’ll wear this monkey suit. Once.”
She gives me a hug. “My band is used to my flights of fancy. Thanks for being such a trooper, Dylan.”
“No worries,” I say. “I think Alyssa likes it.” I shoot the lady in question a mock smoldering glance that probably looks more like a “Zoolander” mug, and she flips me off.
The musicians all take their places on stage while Alyssa, and the three backup singers dressed as bridesmaids in a lighter shade and slightly different style mini dress, wait to come in to a reverent rock version of “Pachelbel’s Canon in D.”
The crowd goes wild and doesn’t stop applauding and generally making noise for a solid three minutes when Alyssa and the backup singers take their places on stage. The band finishes up Canon in D and moves swiftly into a fully rocked-out version of “Here Comes the Bride.” Sky enters the stage looking as regal as one can in a short wedding dress and joins Brody as he’s shredding the hell out the riffs he’s created for his version of this wedding classic. Fans are screaming, and crying, and almost in a general state of mayhem until Sky kisses Brody, hands off her bouquet to Alyssa and addresses the crowd.
“Good evening Skygirls and Skyguys! Are you as excited as I am about my upcoming wedding?”
A deafening roar practically shakes all the rafters in the Staples Center, and I join them tearing up the calf skin on the drum kit, ending with a crescendo on the cymbals. Good performers feed off the energy of the crowd, and it seems like we’re in for a spectacular show if the first ten minutes are any indication.
“I think I just got my answer,” Sky says. “I want to thank each and every one of you who purchased tickets to this event. As you know, the music is our wedding gift to you, the fans who have been with me since day one, and those of you who’ve become fans since this guy,” she gestures toward Brody, “became my artistic life partner and my manager.” Several fans shout a loud, ‘whooo-hoo,’ and Sky continues as the band begins the intro to her first song. “All the proceeds of this concert will go to my Sky Girl foundation which funds leadership programs for middle and high school girls. So, relax and enjoy!”
She cuts seamlessly in and singing a few of her biggest hits, while Alyssa and her backup singers accompany her. However, I know for a fact that Alyssa is mostly going through the motions, because she has a set to do of her own, right after intermission. Then she and Sky will close out together like they normally do. Their places have just changed up a little due to the type of concert they’re presenting this time.
Playing for Sky and Alyssa has been a lot different from my career with The Savages. Those rock concerts took it out of me, and to be honest, if I’m going to live with the specter of NHL coming back, I may need this opportunity to change things up and not go so wild on stage. Taking better care of myself trumps going buck wild on a rock and roll stage every day of the week, particularly if I hope to rekindle what Alyssa and I had together.
Sky’s first set ends just as high-energy as it began as she and Brody perform a duet from her upcoming album. As they sing the last note, the fans throw flowers and photographs onto the stage, and she and Brody pick them up before the stage lights go down for intermission.
Backstage, after having my second costume fitted by Amber I’ve packed up my things per Malik’s instructions so we’ll be ready to go right after the finale. I’m the last to find the rest of the crew in the greenroom where they’re having refreshments before returning to the stage. I grab a banana and bottle of Vitamin Water, and am consuming them when Alyssa enters the room. Her costume for her set is an outfit that reminds me of Tina Turner circa the 1990s. She embodies rock and roll, and I’m sure when we emerge from this concert, she will be firmly accepted by a lot of our fans who’ve accepted Sky because she’s Savage Saban’s woman. Alyssa will gain their respect on her own. A new rock star is about to be born tonight, I can just feel it.
When her eyes find me in the room, she makes her way over to where I’ve discarded my banana peel and I’m working on a cluster of grapes.
“How can you stand to eat before or during a performance?” She asks, grabbing a Vitamin Water, which she sips daintily trying to preserve her fresh make-up.
“As long as it’s light fare like fruit and drinks for re-hydration, I’m good. After the concert, I’ll probably hurt myself.”
“Della usually makes something for us later when we’re performing in town. We found out the hard way
last tour that Sky and Brody will get mobbed if they try to go out right after a concert in the states. It’s insane.”
“As it should be for pop and rock royalty.”
“Doesn’t it get tiresome, though?”
“Depends on your personality. Doesn’t bother me, but you…I have a feeling you might need a security detail twenty-four seven.”
“You really think my new album is going to top the charts to the tune of me being hounded by fans?”
“Of course, but you’ll need a stronger security detail because you might hurt somebody, not the other way around,” I say with a smile.
She grins. “You’re damn right, and I do it mostly with words.” She re-caps her Vitamin Water and dries the condensation from her fingers with a napkin. “I don’t generally resort to scrapping unless it’s unavoidable.”
I laugh. “You? Scrapping? Please.”
“Hey, Brody’s been teaching Sky and me a few MMA moves.”
“Let’s hope you never have to use them,” I say with an amused grin.
Amber bursts into the door. “Hey, guys. You’re on in five.”
We hustle out the door back into our places onstage, while Sky hangs out stage left to watch the show, and Alyssa waits for her intro. Brody will also play on her rock-centric pieces, so he and Nick are both on guitar, just as they were during Sky’s performance. Finally, the lights come up as Brody does an elaborate guitar intro for the first song, Bulletproof.
Alyssa enters the stage mimicking Brody on the guitar, then struts around like a true rocker, claiming the mic to begin with a precision that it takes some performers years to perfect. She owns the stage as she belts the lyrics in a manner reminiscent of Kimberly Heart.
Brody looks back at me for a second and catches my eye, his brows are practically up in his hair line, and I nod to him and continue to beat the hell out of the drums, as Alyssa kills the chorus.
“Your love is a drug, got me so high takes me through the roof.
With you I’m a queen, I can do anything, I’m bulletproof!”
In her words, Alyssa “slays,” that first song, and then continues to own her set just as certainly as Sky owned hers. It’s all high-octane with a mix of her old and new songs, but the finale is a ballad called Never, that slows everything down and prepares the crowd for the end of her performance.
From now on, never will be our beginning and our end
I’m never gonna to let you profess your love or pretend
Never, ever gonna be more than your friend
I’m never gonna to let you hurt me… again
I don’t have to be a fucking rocket scientist to know that this song was probably written after I ghosted her. An anthem for why she’s been so stalwart in her decision not to give me another chance. We’ve practiced it all week, but the way she’s emoting it now has her in tears, and my heart in my fucking throat.
When she sings the last note, she bows low, throws a two-handed kiss to the fans, and runs off the stage to a standing ovation that goes on for so long, Sky and Brody call Alyssa back to the stage and we do a brief encore. Then, rather than have another intermission, we move right into Sky and Alyssa’s set together. They intersperse some original duets and a couple of new ones that are so infused with rock and roll, there is no doubt Brody had a lot of influence in the arrangements.
The final song is another Savage and Sky duet, which they penned to sing at their wedding, and when Sky explains this, the fans go crazy, yet again.
“If always is forever and forever is always,
I’ll be loving you this much for the rest of our days.”
Once the lights go down for the final time, it’s a mad dash to get out of the Staples Center. Malik and his security team are racing against time to get us through the backstage exit before traffic becomes impossible. Alyssa hitches a ride back with us since she hired a car to get to the venue.
We debrief the performances on the way back, sharing what we think went well and what needs further tweaking, and Brody takes notes so these ideas won’t be forgotten when Sky and Alyssa’s next tours begin in the Spring.
“Critics response to tonight and digital downloads for your album will certainly give us a better idea of whether we’ll be doing one tour or two next year,” Brody says. “You ready for the big time, Alyssa?”
Alyssa flashes the universal sign for rock and roll. “I was born ready,” she proclaims.
Confidence isn’t an attribute she’s lacking. I’m so fucking proud of her, I want to share my congratulations by kissing the hell out of her, but I control my impulse and offer her an enthusiastic high-five and my concurrence.
“Fuck yeah!”
From the smells wafting through the house, Della has cooked us a damn good late celebratory dinner. Sky gives us thirty minutes to meet in the dining room, and we all head to our respective rooms to freshen up. I take a quick shower and dress in a distressed pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
I have zero appetite although I haven’t eaten since lunch and have only had a banana and a handful of grapes since then. Rather than take the medication prescribed to boost my appetite, I default to my marijuana prescription, which doesn’t have the NHL drugs’ contraindications, and the buzz is always nice.
One good thing about smoking at Sky’s place is I have her voluminous backyard in which to do it, rather than in a hotel room where the maids tend to give me the side-eye. I’m relaxing on the patio and taking my first toke when Alyssa joins me.
“Were you going to share, or are you going to be selfish and finish that joint off without me?”
I hand her the joint, intent on holding the aromatic smoke in my lungs as long as I possibly can, but seeing her in a soft pink top that hangs loose off one shoulder and a pair of low-riding jeans that bear her tone midriff has me exhaling prematurely to be safe. Coughing in front of this woman isn’t something I’d like to do tonight. It would totally rob me of the swagger I’ve tried to build to impress her.
We pass the joint back and forth, not even attempting conversation, because that’s a sure fire way of being thrown into a fit of coughing. When it’s done, I discard the minute roach into a waiting ashtray.
“Thanks,” Alyssa says. “That was just the thing to mellow me out after the concert.”
“My pleasure,” I say as we head back into the house. Good thing I’d already told Brody and Sky I had a script for the weed, so they won’t get a whiff of us and think we’ve been taking liberties on their property without their permission.
I’m able to do Della’s meal a bit more justice now, and Alyssa chatters away as she’s prone to do when she’s a bit high. Sky isn’t even high but she keeps right up with Alyssa while Brody and I observe them as if they are some rare creatures in their natural habitat that we’re lucky enough to catch interacting without the knowledge they’re being watched.
Eventually they figure out we’re not joining in the conversation and draw us in. Sky sends Della off to bed in yet another of her guest rooms, since it’s too late for her to go home, promising her that she and Brody will do the dishes. When we’ve eaten as much as we have a desire to consume, we all help clear the table.
Alyssa and I tidy up the dining room and post up in the den where there’s a pool table. She challenges me to a game, and of course I accept because we’re both still just high enough to be confident we can win. It’s a sloppy game filled with missed shots, balls flying off the table, and us laughing until our stomachs hurt, but I manage to eke out the win.
Sky and Brody join us, and I’m not as lucky with a sober Brody. He wipes the floor with me. Finally, we’re all sitting around listening to music and just chilling on a late Saturday night. We stay up until we run out of shit to chat about, and we’re yawning and clearly ready for bed.
At the top of the stairs, Brody and Sky go right to the Master Suite, better known as Sky’s bedroom and disappear inside. Alyssa and I hook a left to the guest bedrooms where she fidgets at her door, holding th
e knob, but not turning it.
“What time do you leave tomorrow?” She asks.
“Brody’s gonna take me to the airport around five, five-thirty tomorrow afternoon.”
“Sky’s given Della the day off tomorrow, so you want to have brunch, or a late lunch, or something in the city?”
“Sure.” Her eyes linger on my lips, and my eyes will her to break the truce we made a week ago and put me out of my misery.
“I’ll probably sleep until mid-morning, but we can go as soon as we’re both awake and dressed, okay?”
“You bet,” I say.
She hesitates another moment, then turns the doorknob. “Night, Dylan.”
“Good night, Alyssa.”
She slips into her room and closes the door. As much as my body and soul aches to make her mine again, there’s nothing left for me to do but walk the few steps to my door and go to bed, but not before I take yet another cold shower.
Eighteen
Hollywood, CA
ALYSSA
There is an insistent tapping that brings me out of a deep sleep, and when I open my eyes, it’s still dark outside. I don’t know who the fuck is knocking on my door so goddamned early in the morning after a concert, but I’m ready to commit murder when I roll out of bed and stomp over to the door and throw it open. When I see Dylan standing there looking so handsome and well put together, my anger quickly dissipates.
“Sorry to wake you,” Dylan whispers, a frown of reluctance and worry on his face. “but I didn’t want to leave without telling you goodbye in person.”
“I thought you didn’t fly out until tonight.”
“That was the plan, but I have to take an earlier flight back to Chicago.” The tension in his voice is apparent. “My mom took a spill down the basement stairs last night; she didn’t think it warranted a hospital visit, but my dad insisted she go this morning. He just called me from the hospital. He thinks something’s broken.”
“I’m so sorry.” Even though my relationship with Jacob is fraught as fuck, I couldn’t imagine what I’d be going through if he were hurt and I couldn’t get to him immediately. “Do you need me to give you a ride to the airport?”