“Jack?” The husband tries to confirm, his expression tired but awestruck. “Of Turn it Up?”
“Yeah,” Jack says, reaching out his hand. “What’s your name?”
“Kevin,” he answers, taking Jack’s hand and giving it a firm shake, still looking as though he’s trying to wake up from a dream. “My wife and I love your music. We actually made it to your show when you were in town last time,” he says to Jack, who gives him an appreciative smile before he turns to me. “And my wife, Linda, is totally addicted to that Top Dancer show. You’re on that right? She recognizes you.”
“Yeah,” The word comes out in a squeaky whisper as I nod.
“What’s going on with your little one?” Jack asks, gently.
We listen attentively as Kevin explains how Linda unexpectedly went into labor at thirty four weeks while they were visiting family upstate, and all of the complications and scares that came with delivering a preemie baby at a hospital that was ill equipped to deal with it.
“She’s going to be okay,” Kevin concludes. “She just can’t go home yet and we don’t want her to be without at least one of us at any time until that happens.”
“Of course not,” I agree as Jack and I both nod. “Can we say hi to Linda?”
“I’d love for you to meet them both. Hang on,” he stops a nurse that is walking by, whom at first tells us that we’re not allowed into the nursery, but after a few moments of deliberation, she comes up with a compromise.
Ten minutes later, baby Ruby’s incubator has been rolled into an adjoining sterile room, and after putting on gowns and gloves, Jack and I are allowed in to see her. Linda looks exhausted with dark circles under her eyes and messy ponytail, but she puts on the best smile she can manage and a slight glow comes to her face when we both introduce ourselves and gently hug her.
After introductions, we gaze in through the plastic of the incubator to see the tiny little being, and all of the wires and machinery that are keeping her alive. I can’t even imagine how hard their situation is, but we ask how they’re doing none the less.
Before we leave, Kevin pulls out his phone and asks if he can get a picture.
“Yeah, absolutely,” I tell him as I reach out to take his phone, sure that they’d like a photo of them with the front man of Turn it Up.
“Oh, we meant of you two with Ruby,” Linda tells us. “I’m not going anywhere near a camera right now.” The poor thing gestures to herself and her disheveled appearance. I shake my head at her self-deprecation, but Jack and I happily pose with Ruby, leaning over either side of her incubator. Hopefully that’s a good one for her baby book.
Before we leave, Jack hands Kevin Ron’s card, and tells him to use it if they need anything.
As we make our way back to the elevators where Doug and Shane are waiting for us, Jack’s phone goes off in his back pocket. He pulls it out to find a text from Matt announcing that they’ve arrived.
With no hesitation, we all climb on the elevator and ride up to the oncology unit.
JACK
That was one cute baby, and it was a thrill meeting her parents, offering them support and taking their minds off of their situation, even if it was just for a few minutes. As for the rest of the night… it’s an epic blast. The rest of the guys meet us on the oncology unit, and Josh even brought along one of his guitars, just in case. Both staff and kids alike are happy to see us, some showing their excitement enthusiastically, while others are a bit shy.
At some parts of the evening, the five of us do something with the kids all together, like play circle games, and at other points we split off and cater to kids that have different interests. Chris finds a nine-year-old boy that can hand him his ass at video games, and it doesn’t matter which one. Matt and I meet a couple of boys that are twelve and thirteen and teach them how to play Euchre. Occasionally I look up and see Mayzie doing Christmas crafts with some younger kids while letting a tiny little girl in kitty-cat pajamas play with her hair, or helping some other girls put up decorations in the common area while they try to mimic some of her dances that they’ve seen on TV. She’s a natural, only putting her smile away if one of them is telling her something and she wants to show that she is listening intently. But whenever she puts her smile back in place, it doesn’t fail to light up the room.
Later in the evening, we leave the common area to visit kids in their rooms. Ryan, one of the boys we played cards with, shows us his room where he has one of our posters on the wall; the one from our current tour in fact. As all four of us take turns signing it for him, my emotions collide with each other. It’s such a thrill to have a young kid look up to us, but it’s a bummer that he stays in the hospital for such long periods that he’s settled in enough to put up posters.
One of the highlights of the night is when one of the nurses, Dyan, tells us there is a ten-year-old girl with leukemia who is big into music, and while she’d be thrilled to see us, is very shy. She gestures us to follow her and so we all head to her room which is, like all the others, decorated to make her feel at home. We find her tucked in bed and reading a book that she looks up from when she sees us hovering in her doorway. She has a pink scarf wrapped around her head and her slightly sunken eyes go wide as she glances between the four of us as the nurse makes her way to her bedside.
“Emilee,” Dyan greets her, sitting down next to her. “Do you know who these guys are?”
Emilee shakes her head and looks from us to the nurse with her barely-there eyebrows slightly raised in question.
“They’re from the band, Turn it Up,” the nurse explains gently. “Have you heard of them?” Emilee nods, some color coming to her pallid cheeks. “Is it okay if they visit you? I told them how much you love listening to music.” Dyan then nods her head to the MP3 player laying on Emilee’s bedside table before turning to us. “I’m not sure if she has any of your songs,” she says. I’m not surprised. Our music is a little hard for young girls’ tastes, but it doesn’t matter. We’re here to give these kids a fun evening however they want. I give Emilee a little wave as we step further into the room.
“What do you think? Maybe they can sing you a song?” Dyan gently prods, and Emilee gives a nod, smiling as Dyan lounges back with her elbow resting on the bed next to her like they’re girlfriends. Emilee clearly seems comfortable with her as she leans in to whisper something into her ear.
I find a place to stand that’s a safe distance from the shy girl. “Hi Emilee, I’m Jack,” I say, and then proceed to introduce the rest of the guys. “What kind of music do you like?” I ask.
Emilee curls into her nurse and presses her lips together. Dyan, who was clearly not joking about her shyness, looks up at us. “She has a lot of Ed Sheeran, a little bit of the boy bands, some Elle Goulding…” she trails off, looking down at Emilee affectionately.
“We’ll play whatever you want, Emilee. What will it be?” I try to give her an encouraging smile, but she twists towards Dyan again and whispers. When she leans away, Dyan looks up at us with a quirky smile.
“She’d like to hear the song Ed did with the Biebs…” she begins, and Josh steps over to hand his guitar case to me. “And she’d like him to sing it.”
Josh freezes and drops his jaw when he sees that both the nurse and Emilee are looking directly at him. The rest of us look at him with incredulous grins as he composes himself, pulling the surprise off his face and replacing it with the most adoring smile I’ve ever seen him give anyone.
“Sure,” he answers, sounding just as shy as Emilee as he ambles his way over to a nearby chair and sits down to take his guitar out. Once it’s tuned, he gives her a nervous smile that she returns and he starts strumming out the tune. When you’ve been playing for as long as we have, you can pretty much pick up any song by ear, whether you’ve played it before or not. “I don’t know all the words so you’ll have to help me, okay?” he says gently to Emilee, who nods, looking a little braver.
Josh starts singing the opening lines of the
song, about being at a party he doesn’t want to be at, occasionally pausing and raising his eyebrows at her to cue her to help him with the lyrics, which she does, although you can barely hear it. She seems to feel a little more comfortable with just one of us, and she, the nurse and Josh look settled in and perfectly happy, so the rest of us quietly excuse ourselves from the room. We head back to the common room to find the pre-teen boys and see if any of them want their asses kicked at Guitar Hero.
Mayzie and I finish out our night by walking around the city that seems already decked out for the holidays. All the lights on buildings and trees make for a romantic setting, and I feel like our visit to the hospital filled our tanks so much that we’re both able to fully enjoy being in this atmosphere together. Our bodyguards are still shadowing us, but giving us a respectable distance. Occasionally, a passerby will look up as we pass and a hint of recognition will cross their face, but for the most part, we’re being left alone. We walk late into the night, laughing and not caring about the sleep we’re missing. The thing of it is, I doubt either of us could sleep tonight anyway, but we don’t bring that up. It’s like we have a silent agreement to act as if everything is already progressing past tomorrow night, as we talk lightly about future plans, not afraid to do so like we were before.
I can see that a lot of strength and confidence has come back to Mayzie, and our excursion tonight showed us both that there are so many bigger things in this world, making certain assholes seem small and insignificant. I’m still scared shitless, but stepping back to look at the bigger picture certainly has helped me to pull my shit together.
As Mayzie and I find ourselves in front of the wondrous tree at Rockefeller Center, I think I fall a few more leagues for her. She’s taking in the glory of the sight in front of us while I take in her expression. Her eyes seem to be harboring an entire world of different emotions as they reflect the reds and golds of the lights that have captured her gaze. I see wonder, delight, affirmation, and when she turns to me, love and a little mischief join in as her lips curl up in a warm and contented smile; just for me.
No words are necessary as I lean down and take her in a kiss that I mean to be sweet at first, but quickly becomes intensely passionate and consuming as our lips meld and play off each other, and my tongue sneaks out to take a quick taste of hers.
I don’t know how long we stay there, going between talking, looking at the tree, and making out like teenagers, but it’s not until I see her eyes getting heavy that we call for the SUV to head back to the hotel.
24
Mayzie
Well… someone was nearby, apparently, to witness what Jack and I thought was a romantic moment alone, because this morning, there is a group text on both of our phones from Chris. It includes an attachment from CelebCraze, a celebrity website, with a photo of us making out by the Rockefeller tree, as well as Chris’s words: Get a room! Oh, wait… you have one. USE IT!!
On one hand, sure I feel intruded upon, but it comes with the life. And on the other hand, I’m thinking Suck on that Eli.
No.
I’m not thinking of him today. Not until I absolutely have to.
And lucky for me, it’s a busy day full of distractions. After accompanying the guys to another one of their morning show appearances where I watch their interview and performance on a TV in the dressing room, we find a place for lunch that opens their VIP dining room to us before the guys have a signing at Tower Records. After that, we’re taken back to the hotel for some R&R before they are supposed to go to the Up All Night taping.
And that’s when the nerves kick in. Back in our room, Jack and I still don’t talk about it, which may be unhealthy, but it seems to help. Mostly. While he showers, I sit cross-legged in front of one of the floor to ceiling windows in the main room. Keeping my back straight and my hands resting on my knees, I gaze out at the skyline, drawing in slow breaths through my nose and holding them, before equally slowly letting them out through my mouth. It’s all I can do to keep the anxiety at bay.
My ears register the sound of Jack getting out of the shower, and I give myself one more sequence of breathing before putting my brave face back on and joining him in the bedroom. I flop on the bed as he combs his damp hair and dresses in his ripped jeans and black Henley. I don’t make any move to get ready for the evening, and I won’t until he’s gone.
I watch from my spot on the bed as Jack shrugs into his jacket. I crawl to the edge of the mattress that’s closest to him as he turns to me.
“Well off I go to the ‘Up All Night Show’ recording,” he says cynically, using finger quotes before dropping his arms at his sides. He doesn’t like leaving before things go down; he wants to be in the same building when I go up to the Penthouse of Doom. But he’ll be back right after I go in, and while I don’t tell him this, it’s better that he won’t be around to see me get ready. It will be nerve-racking for me, but I know the process will churn his emotions little by little until he’s ready to explode. Like when I had Shane teach me self-defense moves, I worry that it will make things all the more real, leading his imagination to take the wheel which would be an absolute disaster.
Deciding to keep up with our façade that this isn’t really happening, I take this moment to pounce. I jump off the bed and onto him, giving him no choice but to catch me. He oofs and then recovers, chuckling, and holding me so that I’m just slightly higher than his eye level.
“Have fun at the show,” I tease, widening my eyes. “Give Dan Coleman my best.”
“Right, right,” he nods with a half smirk, playing along. He sets me down but doesn’t let go. Instead he looks down, stroking my cheek with his thumb for a minute. “Back soon,” he assures me and I nod as he cups my chin and gives me a kiss before turning to head out of the bedroom.
JACK
Obviously, we don’t go to the show taping. Instead, the SUVs take all four of us and Ron to a hotel six blocks away where we are discreetly ushered in through a back entrance and onto an elevator that Ron has made sure is clear of any guests. We can’t risk any word getting to Eli that we are somewhere other than where we’re supposed to be.
Once we’re on the thirtieth floor, we get out and keep our heads down until we reach the large Presidential suite at the end of the hall. After Ron gives a knock, we’re let in by one of The Shock Wave’s bodyguards. The whole band is waiting for us in the main room, as well as a woman who sits at the table in the corner, who I assume is Rachel Lawrence, seeming as we asked to meet with her.
After all of us exchange greetings, she stands so that George can introduce us. She’s a tall, thin blonde, not much older than the rest of us, and wears black framed glasses. Her smile is friendly but professional as she shakes hands with all of us and Ron, before turning her full attention to him as he jumps right in with the discussions.
“So, I spoke with the Up All Night producers and…” Ron starts.
“As did I,” Rachel picks up the conversation. “We’re a go. In fact, you guys should get going so you make it on time,” she turns and addresses George and the rest of his band.
I walk up to them all before they head for the door. “Thank you,” is all I can say as I look around at all of them. They all give me encouraging smiles and shoulder slaps, except George, who shakes his head before pulling me in for a tough, manly hug.
“It’ll be alright man,” he murmurs before releasing me.
“I know,” I say as he walks out the door. After it shuts, the five of us and Rachel have business matters to go over.
“That was smart, lining The Shock Wave up to go on the show in your place,” she starts in once we’re all seated around the table. “It made Coleman’s people a lot more amenable to your cancelling on short notice. They just want you to commit to another appearance within the next six weeks.”
“That’s what they told me too,” Ron confirms. “We’re on tour, but we’ll make it work. The guys have a two week break over the holidays, so maybe sometime then will work.�
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“Perfect. As for the statements, I drew them up for you. One is from all of you, and one’s just from you, Jack. Why don’t you guys look them over,” she continues, handing one to me and one to Ron. “Since you are still technically with NoLimit PR, I can’t officially take you on as a client, but all of this,” she waves her hands around the table, “I can do pro bono until your contract with them is voided.”
“We appreciate that, Rachel,” Ron says, as he takes a pen from the inside of his jacket and signs the statement before sliding it over to Matt. Rachel shrugs, and I can’t help noticing the smug smile on her face before I look back down at the statement she prepared on my behalf. I add in a couple of lines at the bottom, sign it, and pass it back to her.
“Thank you for meeting with us. I know you’re busy, and this was so last minute…” I shake my head, trying to show my profuse appreciation, and while her smile is still vaguely in place, it’s tight, and a solemn look comes over her eyes.
“NoLimit PR is where I interned,” she interjects. We all stop what we’re doing and look up at her. “I learned a lot from Eli Costa and I worked hard. And when my internship was over, he offered me a job. Take one wild guess why I didn’t take it.”
Un-fucking-believable. Then again, not so much. I can tell by the looks on everyone else’s faces that they share my sentiment. It’s not hard to connect the dots. She’s a woman who was working for him, in a position of vulnerability, and he’s a dog.
She glances around and I notice there’s not even a hint of a smile on her face anymore, and her expression has transformed into one of spite. “Never has one human made me feel so disgusted, insulted, and small.” She then turns to me. “Jack, I’m sorry for what he’s been putting your wife through. I’ve always carried a lot of regret for not being one of the brave ones and standing up to him. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t need to be sitting down with me right now.”
Still Her (Turn it Up Book 2) Page 21
