by Kylie Walker
BACKSTAGE CRUSH
Book 2
Infinity Prism Series
By
Kylie Walker
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2019 by Kylie Walker
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Kylie Walker holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
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Chapter One
This sucked.
Roman Davenport was hardly listening to the overly enthusiastic banter coming from the reporter interviewing him and his band members. The press was all the same: Fake kiss-asses who’d do or say anything to sell a story. Roman was a drummer, and a damn good one at that, not a public speaker. He was content his band members Colton, Asher, Lucas, and Trevor from their band Infinity Prism were carrying the weight of this interview. Feigning interest was getting harder for him by the second.
They were in Amsterdam; had been rushed to this interview with a major industry music magazine immediately after getting off the plane. He’d much rather have kicked off their European tour with some debauchery in the Red Light District, but whatever. He subtly glanced at his watch, making sure to put on a smile and a pretend laugh whenever the interview called for it. Time wandered off a bit, and he wondered if he was supposed to laugh or something, but whatever. He didn’t care. A second glance at his band members said he wasn’t the only one suffering from the long flight from Chicago. They all looked irritated and crabby.
He would make a point to discuss this with Burt, their manager. Why the hell wasn’t there a little more wiggle room in their schedule? They’d been bee-bopping all over Europe in preparation for their overseas tour that started in a couple weeks. They were all promo’d out. They were struggling to get through this, and it showed. Then he recalled, Burt wasn’t in charge of promotions and marketing anymore. That had been outsourced.
Roman groaned.
Trevor Jameson, the lead singer of the band, gave him a sideways grin. His new fiancé, Emelia was in charge of marketing and had set up this interview, along with all the rest. It was only the first of several they would have to endure during the tour, not to mention the ones they’d already done in the past week. It just came with the territory, he knew that, but he was tired. Edgy. Something felt off — the feeling that something ominous was about to happen kept rearing its frustrating head. He’d been trying to shake it off for hours.
If they wanted to stay in the spotlight, they would have to give the fans what they wanted, which was constant attention and surrender to the grueling life of nonstop press coverage.
Roman casually glanced at the camera. The teleprompter was rolling via a bored looking guy in a hoodie with a blank expression on his face. Welcome to the club, he thought. He almost gave a thumbs up of solidarity to the guy but refrained. The cameraman pushed his headset around his neck where it dangled. He waved animatedly at the interviewer, making all kinds of jerky movements to motion that they were running out of time and needed to wrap up the segment.
Thank God.
Roman was over it. He didn’t want to be humored by this moron in an expensive suit and ugly purple tie. He had hit a wall. He wanted to let go of some of his frustrations and relax with an ice-cold beer in some dive strip club with his friends. They worked hard, and they deserved the leisure time. Since they’d hit it big, relaxation was few and far between.
Not that he wasn’t a responsible businessman himself. He knew that putting in the effort to create amazing music and put his heart out there on stage every night was the most important thing. Roman immensely appreciated the fans. After all, he knew that Infinity Prism would be nothing without the wholehearted genuine outpouring of love and adoration coming from the loyalty of the fans. He was here to give the masses what they wanted. Even if he wanted something to drink and a bed to fall into.
“That’s a wrap!” The crew manager beamed with a loud clap of his hands.
Roman was the first to stand up. He ran a hand through unruly blonde curls. He’d just had the mess trimmed before they’d left yesterday. The stylist had assured him the no-try disheveled look was in. That was great because he didn’t have time to mess around with his damn hair. Frustrated that it kept falling into his eyes, he pushed his bangs back again and shook his head back.
His new girlfriend, Alexis Stanni slowly approached him with a sultry grin. Her lips were cherry red, her chocolate hair flowing straight and long around her lithe body.
Roman didn’t know if the term ‘girlfriend’ was necessarily accurate in this case. He’d only been dating her not quite a month. He had met her at a bar in New York. She was pretty of course, but also someone he could hold a conversation with. It took a lot to hold his interest.
There was something mysterious about Alexis; an attribute he’d been drawn to immediately. She was wearing black skinny jeans, stark white Adidas sneakers and a maroon tank top that showed off a strip of her tanned and toned midriff.
“Hey, you,” she purred as she snaked her arms gently around his neck, leaning on her tiptoes to give him a sultry kiss. “I love seeing you on camera.”
Roman grinned. “Really?”
She trailed her index finger down his chest. “Yeah. It really turns me on.” She gave him a seductive glance and nuzzled her face into his shirt.
“Well, I know how we can solve that problem.” He grabbed her ass and ran his hand up the curve of her back and down to her ass again. Screw going to the clubs in the red light district. He was going to take this sleek and sexy fox straight to bed.
Alexis was cool, but he still wanted to take things slow with her. He’d been burned before in prior relationships. Being a celebrity came with its perks, but there was also a dark side to the fame and fortune. People expected the world from him but wanted to use him and be territorial with him. The minute he ever suspected anything from anyone, friend or girlfriend, platonic or sexual, he didn’t hesitate to cut the cord on that relationship.
Getting to know Alexis was a wild ride, and he was interested in being wrapped up in her alluring sexual appeal. He would just drift with the tide and see how things eventually developed. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he’d brought her with him to Amsterdam. He enjoyed her company, but he also cherished what little alone time he got, and with he
r around, there’d be none.
The band was still lingering backstage with a couple of their assistants, security, and manager when Roman’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. His nerves jacked as if his body knew something his brain didn’t. He glanced at the screen and curiously noted that it was his assistant, Sarah, who’d been delayed and was taking a later flight.
“Sarah?” He asked as he answered the call.
“Roman?” Her voice was shaky and thick with emotion.
His heart dropped. He knew immediately that something was terribly wrong. “What is it?” His pulse rushed in his ears.
“I’m so sorry,” she hiccupped and choked on a sob.
“Sarah, what happened?”
He felt someone beside him. Asher and Trevor had been across the room. They were right beside him now, Alexis, too. They looked at him with worried glances. The sense of doom crashed down on him.
“It’s Stephanie,” Sarah managed to croak.
“Stephanie?” Roman took a step back, furrowing his brow. It couldn’t be good if he was getting an overseas call about his sister. He swallowed nervously.
“She was in a car accident,” Sarah said. “It’s bad, Roman. The doctors did all they could but...”
Her voice became a hazy fog buried deep inside of Roman’s brain.
“She didn’t survive...” Sarah continued even though Roman could barely hear her through the noise in his head. Her voice sounded far away as if she were whispering to him from across the ocean.
Sarah sobbed uncontrollably into the phone. His chest was caving in and his vision blurred. He slapped his open palm against the hallway wall, struggling to breathe, to keep his balance.
“What is it?” Trevor was the first to approach his best friend, grabbing him by the shoulder to keep him sturdy. “What happened, Roman?”
Roman couldn’t answer. Asher took the phone from his hand and leaned on the wall next to him as Alexis grimaced, folding her arms uncomfortably across her chest.
Locking eyes with Trevor, Roman looked away as Asher put the phone to his ear. “What happened, Sarah?”
Her distraught voice rang true through the line. “Stephanie’s dead.”
Asher’s eyes flew to Roman’s, his hand going lax around the phone. Trevor grabbed the phone before it fell.
“Stephanie...” Roman said mechanically as if he’d misheard. “She passed away in a car accident.” The words sounded foreign to him like he was speaking a different language. He stared straight ahead, but his eyes couldn’t canvas anything to focus in on.
“Oh, baby I’m so sorry.” Alexis rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Roman’s waist. “I didn’t even get to meet her.”
Roman shrugged her off and broke away from Asher and Trevor. He needed to think.
“I...” he stammered, trailing off when he realized he didn’t have a statement to formulate. “I don’t know what to do, now.”
“Let’s get him back to the hotel,” Alexis suggested through glassy eyes of worry. She glanced up at Trevor and Asher, awaiting approval.
“No,” Roman held up a hand and squared his jaw. “I need to go home. That’s what I need to do. I need to go back to Chicago.”
He noticed how Trevor and Asher exchanged an apprehensive glance. The logistics were impractical at best. They’d only just arrived in Amsterdam a few hours ago. They hadn’t even made it to the hotel yet to unpack. That was fine. It saved him the trouble of having to pack back up. His grieving family would need him, and he would need them too. The faster he made that happen, the better.
Stephanie was Roman’s older sister. She was engaged, and the wedding was supposed to happen in the spring. Roman knew that she and his mother had been happily chatting about the wedding ever since the engagement. He was crushed for his whole family and the life that Stephanie would now never get a chance to fulfill.
Roman’s eyes stung with hot tears, angry at the universe for the cruelty of ripping his family’s joy right out from under them like a rug.
“It’s okay, Roman,” Trevor said, but his eyes reflected disbelief in his own statement. “It’s going to be okay.”
Roman sniffed and wiped blurred tears from his eyes. He nodded and took a deep breath. “It’s time to go home.”
There would be no question about it. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. He pushed through the huddle of people that had witnessed the entire conversation. Colton and Lucas had already left, and Trevor called them to catch them up to speed.
“I’m going with you,” he said as he clamped his hand onto Roman’s shoulder.
They stepped out into the evening dusk of Amsterdam. Quant little shops were arranged in a tight little row. Pedestrians strolled by on the streets, completely absorbed in their own lives as they rushed right past Roman and his friends.
Roman glanced at Trevor. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m going with you back home to Chicago. It’s not up for debate.”
Roman didn’t protest. Trevor had been a part of his family since middle school when his family took him in via foster care. Trevor was like a brother to Roman, even more so than the rest of the band members.
“Okay,” Roman blinked with a curt nod. He was strong, but fuck, he wanted his brother-by-choice at his side. Stephanie would have wanted Trevor there, too.
He was vaguely aware of Asher talking to the others. “Our first show is six days away. We’ll stay behind a day and get this PR stuff rescheduled, tie up loose ends.” There was a murmur of agreement before Asher pulled Roman into a quick hug.
“We’ll catch a flight tomorrow night and catch up with you and Trev.”
Roman attempted a smile through a shield that felt false inside. He glanced at Alexis whose eyes were somber and sincere. “I’ll wait and catch a flight with the rest of them,” she whispered.
Roman took a deep breath. “See you all on the other side of the world.”
Chapter Two
“Wait. I found the best one.” Chloe quipped playfully as her sister craned her neck to view the old photo album spread across her lap.
A pile of pictures sat next to them, just waiting to be inserted into the album. They’d been at this for an hour now, reminiscing in the best possible way.
“Oh my God.” Ashley Adams, Chloe’s younger sister, rolled her eyes dramatically as she inspected the picture of the pair of them in a bath surrounded by bubbles. They sported pigtails and flat, naked chests. “Go to the next page, please.”
Chloe was enjoying the moment. It was a rare event, the two of them laughing and distracted, playfully teasing about the blast from the past. The pictures of memories popped out of the pages in the photo album. They needed this chance for a laugh fest after the stress their family had been under recently. They didn’t get many moments like this anymore.
“I think this is a gem.” Chloe plucked the picture from the plastic encasement and waved it in front of their mother, patronizing her younger sister even further.
“I love all those pictures,” Donna, Chloe and Ashley’s mother smiled with a twinkle of nostalgia in her aqua colored eyes.
Ashley and Chloe were both blessed with their mother’s Caribbean blue eyes.
Chloe glanced over at her father, laying in the bed. His skin was gray, his face gaunt. His eyes were sunken in underneath bags of exhaustion and sickness that made him appear as if he had been inflicted with two black eyes. The chemo had given his skin a pale, fragile appearance so unlike his usual, rough working man persona.
He coughed and gave her somewhat of a proud smile that mainly remained hidden by the prostate cancer that debilitated him.
“Are you okay daddy?” Chloe called out across the room. “Do you need your sheets tucked up?” It was a silly question. Her father was nice and snug under the warmth of the blankets, one of which had been hand knitted by his own grandmother. He still kept it after all these years, and it was in surprisingly well-preserved condition.
“I’m fine honey,�
� he assured her in a raspy, thin voice.
Chloe made eye contact with Ashley. They both were extremely close to their father. The disease had wreaked havoc on their family, throwing them for a loop. The family wanted to do everything they could to support each other. Family and friends provided casseroles and hot meals. A special fund had been initiated by Chloe’s aunt Felica to help pay for medical bills in the chaos of debt that encompassed a cancer diagnosis and the treatment to follow.
Donna wanted to do everything in her power to keep her husband alive and well. They’d agreed to endure radiation and countless chemotherapy treatments. Chloe liked to kiss the top of her father’s now bald and glistening head, rubbing lotion on it to make him feel better for losing his hair.
He coughed again, sputtering and hacking for a couple of minutes. As dauntingly scary as it was to witness these episodes, the oncologist treating him assured the bunch that these fits were normal and were just a reaction to the chemo drugs.
Chloe closed the photo album, wishing she could seal all the memories in her mind forever. The pain and suffering that reflected through her father’s hollow eyes made her heartache. She was helpless to do anything to take his pain and suffering away. He continuously promised them that he was going to ‘beat this monster inside of him,’ as he liked to refer to the cancer.
Chloe, along with her mother and sister could only hope that in the end, their beloved father and husband would turn out to be right after all in his future predictions. Chloe knew that he was crumbling beneath his shield of bravery, but he’d be ever valiant for their sakes.
“When are you going back to work?” Ashley crossed her legs on the couch in the bedroom and focused her attention on Chloe.
Chloe knew that Ashley wasn’t asking to be pushy. She could tell by the melancholy dwelling in the shadows of her eyes that she was merely doing her best to change the subject and shift the focus from their ill father.
She took a deep breath and cupped her hands over her knees. “Um...well,” she began with a faint hint of a chuckle. “I’m not sure yet.” She glanced over at her father. “Once daddy is stable enough I guess.”
