As we walked back to the venue, I noticed a line of people on the street. Not a huge line, not a going around the block line, but enough people to look like it was more than just milling around on the street. I nudged Eric.
"Doesn't look like you'll be playing to an empty room."
He grinned.
"Are they here to see us?"
"Looks that way," said Angie. "Told you I invited some people."
"You're amazing," said Eric.
Angie's face lit up. She tried to reply but she just stammered. The guys went in the back stage door and I followed them to make sure everything was ready.
"Do you need anything? Drinks? Towels?"
Eric shook his head.
"I guess we'd better set up the merchandise then," I said to Angie.
We lugged the boxes to the front lobby and set up the rickety card table. Angie grabbed some hangers and climbed on a chair to display the t-shirts and posters.
The other bands turned up with their merchandise.
"We have to make our stuff look the best," Angie whispered to me. "Look at their ugly t-shirts."
I grinned at her. Our stuff did look a lot better.
"That idiot Jason said we couldn't use tape to put up the posters but look at this wall. It's got tape marks all over it. He's so full of shit, just likes throwing his weight around. I'm Mr Big Important Band Booking Guy. Oh no, you can't use tape on my walls."
I tapped her on the leg as I saw Jason walking towards us and we both forced a smile on our faces.
"The doors will open in a couple of minutes."
I nodded. Would anyone even buy this stuff? Before, the band had run down to the local print shop and got a dozen or so shirts printed off before each gig. It'd cost them nearly as much as they sold them for. Pretty much a zero-profit game. Eric had explained it wasn't about the money. If people wore the shirts, it gave the band publicity.
I figured we could make more money if I got a bulk lot of shirts printed. Not only cheaper but heaps better quality too. Eric had almost squealed when he'd seen his design on them.
"Hannah, you have to put on a t-shirt. We can't sell them if you aren't wearing one."
"I'm not stripping off like you. Not with all those people outside, especially."
I slipped an oversized t-shirt over my outfit, figuring I just needed to wear it while I sat there.
Then the doors opened and people flooded inside. Excitement buzzed in the air and soon we had our first customers. Two girls wearing the old t-shirts.
"Hey, Angie."
"You made it," she said, jumping up to give them a hug. "You have to get the new shirts. They are so much better than the old ones."
She nodded and turned to the next lot of customers. They all seemed to know her by name.
Soon, we had a line at the table. I'd organised a system of sizing with the boxes but we ended up in chaos, trying to get everyone through as quickly as possible.
"Do you know all these people?" I asked her. It seemed like everyone greeted her and stopped by to say hello.
"How many people do you think are here? Do you think we'll get 5,000?"
Angie shrugged.
"I dunno but we've sold enough t-shirts to get your money back."
I quickly hugged her, even though I'm not a hugger, and got back to serving.
People still kept coming in.
"Hey, Angie. Great to get out and support the band. Thanks for letting us know about tonight."
"No problem."
"Do you have a large?"
"Sorry, we've sold out. Try an XL."
Had I heard right? We'd sold out of larges? I tried to work out quickly in my head how many we'd ordered and the profit margin on that many t-shirts but the maths made my head spin.
Inside the main doors, we could hear people chanting for the band to come on stage. Storm, Storm, Storm.
The line began to dwindle and those left thrust their money at us in a rush to get inside.
Then the crowd went quiet. A tense silence filled the place, as if every single person was sucking in their breath and it affected the oxygen levels.
"If you want to go in and watch, I'm fine here on my own."
"Are you sure? Are you sure it'll be okay?"
"Of course. Look at how much work you've done getting people here. We'd be nothing without you. The least I can do is let you go in and watch the band. Get going… "
With that she ran off.
I sat at the table, pretty much alone except for some stragglers coming in the door.
People screamed and I imagined the band walking on-stage. Then the sound of guitar cut through the screams and it all went mad.
Jack's voice rang out from the stage, full of energy and charisma. I knew this song now. I sang along quietly as he got to the chorus and could hear the crowd singing along too and yelling at the appropriate places. They loved it; they loved him.
The crowd went crazy after the song finished. The screaming and yelling continued into the next song. This was a new one, one I'd never before. It started slow and sexy, like the melody crept up on you, sliding around your body. I couldn’t make out the words just the feeling of intimate longing, building up.
Then they crashed into the crescendo. Energy exploded from inside like a force of nature, a crazy energy that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I grabbed the cash box and raced through the door. Even at the back, the crowd squeezed tight together. I couldn’t believe there were so many people. I'd seen them come in, in dribs and drabs, but actually having the mass of them in one room, lit by the multicoloured lights and moving as one, made them look magical.
All eyes were turned to the stage and, centre of that stage, stood Jack Colt. He seemed to be in a world of his own, untouchable and aloof. He strutted around, caressing the microphone as though seducing a woman, the same way he'd touched me. A shudder went through every woman in the crowd, all of them thinking the same thing. He whispered the lyrics into the microphone in a voice that sent shivers down my spine.
Then, as the tension grew tangible, they thundered into sound. A wall of sound and wailing. Without even realising, my hips moved in time with the music. My foot tapped. This was awesome. Beyond awesome.
Angie rocked up beside me.
"He's on fire tonight."
I nodded.
He moved over to Eric and the two of them leaned up against each other as they played. The bond between them was so strong. I'd not even realised until I saw them on stage like this. They moved together as one, back to back. Then Jack broke away and ran back to centre stage in time for the chorus.
The crowd became an amorphous mass, the energy intensifying as the music reached its climax. They'd blended together, all their energy and all their dreams merged into one and concentrated on that man with the guitar.
He seemed to sparkle up there. All his indolence and arrogance disappeared to be replaced by someone honest and true. Someone who spoke to people straight to their hearts. And it didn't hurt that he looked like a god. A woman would have to be blind, deaf and dumb not to react to those hips, swerving and grinding as though he wanted to have hot and dirty sex just with you. Yet, at the same time, he made you feel that he was vulnerable and needed protecting. And that was a lethal combination.
I could hear girls screaming "Jack Colt, Jack Colt" until it sounded like an echo of Jacolt, Jacolt.
At the end of their set, the crowd screamed for more, going absolutely fanatical. It seemed amazing to me but I had no idea about this kind of thing. Maybe crowds always made the kind of noise that would lift the roof off a place.
Jason appeared beside me. "Get them back out there. They have to do an encore."
"But it's after 9.45?"
"Don't care, the second band can go on late."
I thrust the cash box at Angie and pushed my way through the crowd, flashing my pass at the bouncers.
"What the hell are we going to play? We planned a 45 minut
e set. We didn't practice anything else."
Jack paced the small back room, emotions playing out on his face.
"Stop bitching, Jack, and just get out there." I gave him a shove. This was his moment. The crowd were lapping it up and he had to give them more. This was proof, proof that they could make it. "Play one of the same songs again. Play Party Dress."
As they headed back on stage, the crowd went insane. I thought a couple of those girls would implode.
The second band sat backstage waiting for their turn to play.
"We might as well pack up and go home," said one of them. "We can't play after that."
"Tell me about it. This is going to be one of those gigs that people talk about for years to come. Everybody is going to say they were here. It's going to be one of those pivotal moments in rock gigs. And we have to play after that!"
"Speak for yourselves," said the chick, looking up from her phone. She'd changed into a corset and a skin-tight skirt with long black gloves and crimson lipstick. "I want to stick around and find out more about this Jack Colt."
Even that didn't bring me down from my high. I floated out of the room. This was it. I'd get them signed, I'd get them famous. And I'd solve all my financial problems. Lear jet and champagne, here I come. Designer wardrobe, I'll replace you all.
No way would I lose that contract. No way would I sell the company. I had to stick around and see what my band could do.
I pushed my way back through the crowd, most of them going crazy. The stage was dark and I knew the band was waiting to go back on. In a moment, the craziness would explode and I'd have no chance of getting back to Angie unharmed. And then it started and I got knocked around like a pinball in a machine.
"This one's for Hannah," Jack screamed from the stage and I thought I would die right there.
As I got to the back of the room, I saw Frank. He'd turned up. I waved but he didn't see me. As I approached him, I noticed the man standing beside him. I stopped dead and even the roar of the crowd faded in my ears.
Dad.
Chapter 14
My dad had been crazy rich. It'd always been the two of us against the world and nothing was too good for me. We had the big house with maids, plus a beach house that was more luxurious than most people's everyday houses. I'd gone to the best schools and I'd worn the best clothes. Even though I had friends, most of the time I ignored them and went straight from school to Dad's office. I'd sit on a chair beside him and play business then he'd put me on his shoulders and take me around to meet the staff.
"One day, this will all be yours, honey." That's what he'd say to me.
I'd laugh. It seemed silly to me as a kid because I thought it was all mine anyway. All the offices. All the buildings he'd take me to see that were his. All the meetings where I played on the floor while he talked business.
When I got older, I'd still go to the office. Sometimes I'd go with him to meetings. But sometimes he'd tell me to run home.
"It's no place for a young girl," he'd say.
I'd pout but he'd never change his mind.
I expected this to go on forever. I'd get my degree then work with him in the business. I'd never have to worry about finding a job because all this would be mine one day.
I had it planned out. While I'd had a few boyfriends in high school, when I met Tom the plan fell into place. He came from a similar family and everyone said it would be the perfect relationship. Our businesses would merge when we married and we'd run them together. I never thought about things like excitement or fun in a relationship because that would come from the business.
We'd gone away to university together. Tom wanted to get into the best law program in the country and I followed behind him, thinking moving to another state would be an adventure. Although, to be honest, my life didn't really change that much. Same life, different place.
Then, a few months ago, Frank called me and told me to pack my things and come home.
"Is Dad ill?" I asked.
"No, nothing like. I can't really explain over the phone."
I'd packed up my bags and headed home, feeling a bit exasperated. It wasn't long until exams and I needed to study. I didn't really have time for family drama.
When I got off the plane, Frank was waiting for me.
"Where's Dad?" I asked. I had a horrible feeling Frank had been lying about him not being ill. Otherwise, why wasn't he there to pick me up himself? Why hadn't he phoned himself? None of this made sense.
"He's… well, we aren't sure where he is at the moment."
He didn't say much else until we got back to his house. I had a feeling he didn't want to tell me in front of the driver, so I didn't push it. I spent that ride from the airport with my face against the window of the car, trying not to think of all the possibilities.
Then finally he got the chance to explain.
"I'm not sure how it happened. Your dad, he got into some trouble. Got in over his head. I tried to warn him but he was always a gambler. He thought the risks would pay off in the end. And maybe, if he'd had more time, it would've worked out…"
I didn't really understand what he was trying to say.
"Dad had some business troubles?"
"The worst kind. He's lost, well pretty much everything."
I sunk down on the sofa, not comprehending. Dad had lost money. He'd done that before. He said you couldn't make an omelette without breaking some eggs. But he always bounced back.
"But it's no big deal right? He can just move some money from somewhere else to cover it?"
"There is no 'somewhere else' this time, I'm afraid. He's moved it all. It's all gone. Things have been going bad for a while. And, this is really hard…" Frank got up to pour himself a drink. He poured me one too and sat it down in front of me. "I'm sorry to tell you this, honey, but some of the stuff your dad was involved in. It wasn't all aboveboard."
I shook my head. No way would Dad be involved in anything dodgy.
"All the company's assets have been frozen. The houses, the cars, everything. There is talk of –"
"Shut up! Just shut up. You’re making this up."
I stood up. It couldn't be true. I covered my ears, not wanting to hear any more.
Frank put his arm around me but I threw him off. Everything went black. I picked up the glass of whiskey he'd poured for me and threw it at the wall.
"Where's he gone? Where's Dad? I need to hear this from him. He'll tell me the truth. He'll look after me. He always has."
"He's disappeared. I don't know where he is. I don't know when he'll be back. He called me last night and then the police arrived. I had to try to sort things out. I've got your clothes. They took everything else. All your jewellery, the furniture, all your things. I said your clothes were personal effects. The rest is gone."
I shut my eyes.
"But I still have my allowance, right?"
Frank shook his head.
"But I can go back to uni. I have my flat and –"
Frank shook his head again.
"That was under the company name. I'm organising to get everything shipped down here. Until this is sorted out, it's best you don't go back there."
I could not think about this. I could not even imagine having nothing. People couldn't just take all your stuff. We'd find some money and I'd go back to uni and everything would be okay. Dad would sort it out.
"I'd offer to let you stay here for a while but even that might not be a good idea. There are people, not just the police, looking for your dad. You should stay under the radar for a while."
"Am I in danger?" This was a nightmare. I'd wake, surely and find out it was all lies.
"No, but you don't want to be in the spotlight right now. We're trying to keep it out of the papers but, once people find out, this is going to explode and you don't want to be hounded by them."
I'd packed up my stuff and left with a quick goodbye to Frank. I know it wasn't his fault but I didn't want to be around him. It made me feel sick.
I booked into a hotel. Stupid move, I know now, but at the time I thought it'd blow over in a couple of days. I had money in my bank account. I had my credit cards. Well, I thought I had my credit cards until I tried to use them. Do you know how humiliating it is to have your credit card rejected?
I didn't do much after I checked into the hotel. I didn't want to contact anyone I knew and I couldn't go shopping. I went to the pool and swam lap after lap, hoping it would resolve something. After that, I'd fall into bed, exhausted. When I wasn't swimming, I studied, expecting to still get back to school in time for exams.
A few days later, Frank called me to see how I was getting on. He had my stuff sent to the hotel and called in to take me to lunch. That's when he'd told me about the management company. Dad had put the company in my name for some reason. I had no idea why he couldn't have done that with one of the houses at least, or something of value.
"All this will be yours one day," he'd said but now "all this" had gone. Disappeared in a way that made my head spin.
"What am I supposed to do with a band management company? I didn't even know Dad had such a thing."
"It was a bit of a hobby for him. Back in the day when some of his mates played in bands. It actually was his first business. Before all the property development and all that. Then there was that time…"
Frank didn't finish what he was saying. I ignored it until later.
We had some more wine and Frank looked around the hotel.
"I hate to say this but you really should think of moving out of here. You know when the money's gone, there'll be no more. Maybe you can get some kind of support from the government until you get a job."
I just stared at my wine glass. I couldn't eat any more. The thought of food made me sick. I had no idea about getting a job or anything else. All I knew was how to spend money. And where could I move to?
When I got back to my room, I checked my bank balance and worked out how many days I could stay at the hotel. The answer was not many. I went online and looked at apartments.
I had just over $2000 in my account. That was it. That was all the money in the world. When I looked at apartments, I realised I'd need money for a security bond and a month's rent. Even with the most optimistic calculations, that seemed impossible.
Bad Boy Rock Star Page 11
