by Tammy Coons
Suddenly Phillip spotted her and bounded toward her. She gasped as the engrossed crowd pressed harder against the fence behind her. The weight and force stunned her. Phillip dropped to his knees and sang the very suggestive lyrics to her. He winked then reached out to touch her. Steph felt herself blush, but was powerless to look away or even to raise her camera. He ran his hand down her cheek then took off for the opposite side of the stage. Looking back he gave her angry smile and she knew then she was being patronized. Irritation percolated in her and she stopped and searched her bag for her telescopic lens.
“You’re blocking my view!” a menacing woman snarled as she and her two companions shook the fence and clawed at Steph.
They make Goddess look like Tinkerbelle.
“Screw you!” Steph yelled before she could contain herself. She hastened away immediately.
Wondering where Cheyenne had vanished to, she decided to go further into the backstage area to see if she was waiting there. Steph rounded a corner that led to the dressing rooms and a lounge area where catering had been set up. The usual cast of characters lurked in this makeshift greenroom. As Steph searched the crowd for Cheyenne, she observed blue tooth wearing pretentious suits, pretty boys with overdone hair product, up and coming supermodels who obviously hadn’t eaten more than the olive from their martini this week, and semi naked groupies molesting anyone who made eye contact. Still on the hunt for Cheyenne and wishing to avoid the debauchery, she slinked further backstage into the recesses of the labyrinth. She held renewed respect for all the time and effort that went into putting on a single rock show.
Rounding a corner, she witnessed several roadies lounging with groupies draped over their laps. One groupie had her shirt off, another was unzipping a crewman’s pants, and four additional roadies hovered around several lines of cocaine.
She walked past them without a second glance. She proceeded further backstage and as she rounded the next corner, she observed several road crew members loading crates onto a dolly. This struck Steph as an odd time to be loading equipment.
She spied Duncan approaching them from the opposite direction and she hid in the nearest doorway.
“We have guests, be cautious.” She heard him murmur to them.
She quietly turned and snuck down the hall the way she’d came. She reemerged near the coke table.
“Hi.” A young roadie advanced toward her. “Can I see your pass?”
He’d been the one with the topless groupie in his lap moments before. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and sniffed. Glancing at the white residue on his nostril, Steph flashed her passes. Brushing past him, she snapped a series of pictures of the roadies who were sniffing white lines.
“Hey!” The young roadie tried to grab the camera from her, but her encounter with Phillip had honed her reflexes.
“Shut up before you say anything stupid, I’m in no mood.” She put herself between him and the camera. The roadies pushed away from the table and scattered and the groupies fled down a hall.
“Please don’t print those,” The roadie begged her, panic in his eyes.
“Maybe you can convince me.” Steph motioned for him to follow her into one of the nearby dressing rooms. As he closed the dressing room door, she turned to face him.
“What’s your name?”
“Sam Ridgley. What do you want?”
“I’m Stephanie. I’m with The Sound Wave.”
“What’s The Sound Wave? A tabloid?”
“What, do you live in a cave? It’s an American music magazine. We’re doing a story on Fury. Level with me, you see everything that goes on around here, don’t you?” Steph crossed her arms.
“Pretty much.” He fidgeted and lit a cigarette.
“I could use an insider who can give me information about Fury’s tour. Corruption amongst roadies isn’t a bad start. Why don’t you start by telling me whose cocaine that was?”
Sam laughed at her.
“Christ it could have been anyone’s. Everyone back here is on something or another. Well… maybe not everyone, but most of us.”
“Have you seen any of Fury use drugs?” she asked He was shaking as he took a drag.
“I think maybe you should ask them. It’s not place to talk about the band.”
“Spit it out, Sam.”
“Alright. I smoked a joint with Nathan once, but other than that no.” he looked over his shoulder at the closed door. I do know that they can hold their alcohol.”
“That’s all you got?” He nodded. His gaze shifted again to the closed door.
“Can I go?”
Are you afraid of something Sam?” she asked. His eyes were watery.
“Look,” he whispered leaning closer to her. “I’ll get myself killed.”
The sincerity in his eyes took Steph off guard. She watched the color drain from his face and was speechless. She hadn’t been expecting a story, she’d merely been messing with the roadie.
Finding her voice, she handed Sam her business card.
”I’ll be in the bands’ hotel. If you decide you would like to speak to me further, all my contact info’s on this card.” The door flew open and Duncan appeared.
“Show’s over,” Duncan said, and glanced at Steph. “Sammy, I can’t believe you didn’t call me. It’s unfair not to share.”
They both looked at him in silence.
“Told you you’d pay for those passes. When is it my turn?”
“We’ve got a job to do,” Sam said. Duncan winked at Steph as they both left the room. She sighed and cradled her head in her hands.
Ian snagged Cheyenne on her way through the gate and informed her that The Sound Wave needed to attend the after party. Assuring Ian she’d make it happen, Cheyenne wandered into the greenroom and spotted Fury’s axillary percussionist chatting with a reporter she recognized from a larger weekly magazine that had been around for eons. Cheyenne had an overwhelming sense of foreboding. ‘What the hell is Riff Magazine doing here?” She thought.
“Hey, Cheyenne!” The percussionist called. He was a big teddy bear of a guy. His white smile contrasted with his very black skin. “This is Ted. He’s a journalist too. Have you guys ever met?”
Ted turned to look Cheyenne up and down.
“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. Ted Brown, Riff Magazine.” He eyed her legs.
“Cheyenne Carson, The Sound Wave.” His surprise amused her as she opened a beer.
“Ah, cute. The Sound Wave sent you all the way across the pond? That’s a long way to fly coach.”
“I didn’t realize Riff was still writing music stories.” Cheyenne enjoyed Ted’s stung expression. Riff had been criticized for losing its edge and selling out. In the past few years, they’d moved further into the movie and TV market to appeal to a younger crowd.
“Never heard of you.”
“I’m touring with Fury. They’re our October cover story.”
“Impressive.”
“They chose us.”
“They have impeccable taste.” His eyes lingered on her cleavage. Irritated, she wandered away in search of Steph, ready break the news to her that their competition was sniffing around. As she wandered further backstage, she spotted Goddess alone amidst crates of equipment. She seemed to be snapping pictures and mumbling to herself. Cheyenne chugged her beer and shook her head. She turned away before she’d have to speak to Goddess. After the argument in the café, she had given up on the intern. As she approached the dressing rooms, she saw the big roadie, Duncan, leaving a dressing room with a younger roadie. Steph walked out a moment later. Cheyenne choked on her beer.
“Three way with your boyfriend, Duncan? Goddess is going to kick your ass,” Cheyenne joked.
“That’s so not funny. I made a connection tonight,” Steph whispered.
“Yeah, I see that,” Cheyenne said suggestively, looking after the young roadie.
“Shut your whore mouth.” Steph smirked at her, and then her face was serious. “His
name is Sam. I caught him and a few others having a little cocaine party.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing, they all left once I started taking pictures. We had a pretty interesting conversation about drug usage in the band. He admitted to smoking weed with Nathan and of course the band likes their booze.” Steph shrugged.
“Imagine that.” Cheyenne rolled her eyes.
“He seemed really paranoid and told me if he said too much he might get killed.”
“Paranoia and drug use go hand in hand,” Cheyenne offered.
“I gave him my business card.”
“If he does contact you, take my recorder with you. Head up. Ted Brown’s skulking around.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Over the monitors they heard Phillip thank the crowd and knew the encore was over. “Come on, we’d better get out of here before we get trampled by Fury.” Steph began to walk away.
“More bad news. We can’t skip the after party. Ian said there are going to be some important people there.” Cheyenne grabbed a beer from a nearby cooler.
“I am so tired, I just want sleep! What important people? Not these greenroom jerk-offs?”
“I’m not sure, but it should be interesting.” Cheyenne shrugged.
“I should have brought more film,” Steph said, looking in her camera bag.
“Goddess might have some. I saw her back here earlier talking to herself and taking pictures of inanimate objects.”
“My Dad’s trippin’” Steph whined.
“She’ll have a digital, besides we’re going to keep a close eye on her for a few days. You know, she has been hanging around those roadies a lot. Do you think that’s where she got the coke?” The girls exited the lounge to see several groupies waiting for Fury.
“If I ever get this desperate, please shoot me,” Cheyenne whispered.
“Hi. I’m Pepper, are you here to meet Fury too?” a bubbly blonde girl said approaching them. Cheyenne recognized her from the London show. Duncan had let her backstage.
“No, I’m afraid not.” Steph smirked, “We’re not that lucky.”
Pepper leaned in close to them and whispered, “Good. I was with Nathan in London and tonight I’m hoping to get Scot alone. I don’t need any competition.”
“Great,” Cheyenne finally said. Her face turned red.
“ Have fun.” Steph grabbed Cheyenne by the arm pulling her away.
“Do you think Scot will sleep with her? She was pretty.”
“Stop it,” Steph said.
“What?”
“You’re freaking out, Cheyenne. I need you on your game.” As they headed for the door, Fury burst in blocking their exit. They laughed and high fived each other. .
“Hey ladies, where are you off to?” Scot asked smiling. He was drenched in sweat, literally as if he’d jumped into a swimming pool, fully clothed.
“You better hurry guys you have ladies waiting for you in the lounge,” Cheyenne snapped. Steph turned a sober glance at Cheyenne and yanked her away by the arm. “See ya at the after party. Evidently our attendance is expected,” Steph said.
“Well come on let’s go check out these ladies,” Cheyenne heard Phillip say.
“Hell yeah!” Nathan’s voice chimed in. Cheyenne looked over her shoulder, and saw Scot shake his head and disappear into his dressing room.
After being ditched by Goddess, they’d hailed a cab. Since Stephanie found it impossible to refrain from screaming at the drivers to speak English, this was their third cab ride. When pressed about her foul mood, Steph regaled Cheyenne about her back stage incident with the roadie Duncan. Cheyenne immediately tried to call Ian, but Steph stopped her, claiming she was already on his bad side due to the newspaper pictures with David.
“So where is the after party anyway? “ Steph asked.
“It’s at Le Mix Club. It’s about time we get out of the hotel. I’m in the mood to party…” Cheyenne felt hyper and ready to blow off some steam. “Can you believe Goddess ditched us for those disgusting roadies?”
“Maybe she likes to be degraded and used.” Steph yawned. “You know, I would love to just take a hot bath and go to bed. The rock star lifestyle is definitely not for me.”
“Liven up, Steph,” Cheyenne responded.
“You seem to be having a lot of fun tonight. Are you trying to reenact Leaving Las Vegas?” As she said the words, Cheyenne gulped another drink of her beer.
“You’re hilarious,” Cheyenne murmured factiously.
“Honestly, I would rather photograph people in my studio and have them go the hell away. All this hanging around with ‘the clients’…. “Steph mused. “Maybe I should just go photograph the mountains in Montana. I would do great calendar work, or coffee table books.”
” I can tell you one thing; I am definitely writing a nice email to the L.A. office about Goddess,” Cheyenne grumbled, causing Steph to chuckle. They pulled up to the hotel.
After a quick stop at their hotel for more film and batteries, they approached Le Mix Club. The line for entrance wrapped around the block. Cheyenne and Stephanie approached the door and the bouncers cast them an amused look.
“Stephanie Brier and Cheyenne Carson,” Steph announced, loading her camera. Cheyenne observed the men exchange an unimpressed glance.
The larger of the two pointed to the long line and spoke French. Unable to understand the words, the meaning was clear. Cheyenne glanced at the line and saw many unhappy faces glaring at her.
“Text Ian,” Cheyenne spat at Steph. With a surprised glance, Steph did as she asked. Moments later Ian appeared and exchanged words with the bouncers who immediately granted the entrance.
The club was vast and packed full of sweaty, gyrating dancers. Lazer lights and fog dressed the party scene.
“Do you think the guys are here yet?” Steph hollered over the thumping club beat as they followed Ian through the crowd to the VIP section.
“They’re probably too busy with Pepper and friends,” Cheyenne joked. Suddenly she got a mental picture of Scot with the blonde. Her heart beat faster as jealousy gripped her.
“Stopping by the ladies room—be there in a sec.” Steph disappeared into the crowd.
Cheyenne continued to follow Ian as he wove through the packed dance floor. Twice Cheyenne was grabbed by random men who tried to pull her away to dance. Both times Ian yanked her back and she was relieved when they finally arrived at their destination which was a roped off and guarded by security.
Three men dressed in business suits turned to look at them. Cheyenne recognized one of them as the mysterious man she’d seen leaving Ian’s room when he’d forgotten about their meeting. Seeing him here in the VIP section, she doubted he worked for the hotel. His eyes met hers and a look of recognition crossed his face.
“Hello,” Cheyenne put on a fake smile.
“Where’s Goddess?” Ian asked.
Cheyenne paused.” She’s still at the concert hall.”
Ian leaned in closer.
“I’d like to introduce you to some of my business associates; they wanted to meet all three of you.”
“Alright.” Cheyenne shrugged. “Why?”
“Just to make sure Ian made a good decision when he selected you for our boys ‘coming out’.” The man Cheyenne had recognized interjected.
“Hello. I’m Steve Duran.” The man approached and held his hand out. “I make sure Fury has all their transportation in proper order.”
Cheyenne smiled, though her insides squirmed. Steve had to be in his early thirties, with a medium build. Dark haired and somewhat handsome, something about his demeanor and the way he raked his eyes over her body made Cheyenne’s skin crawl. What troubled her more was that he seemed to make the ‘unflappable’ Ian uncomfortable. She wanted another drink before she lost her buzz.
“Cheyenne Carson.” She offered her hand apprehensively.
“Where are the others?” Steve asked. “I…I …can assure you they are on their way,” Ian s
tammered. Cheyenne looked at Ian in astonishment. He loosened his tie and dabbed his temple with a napkin.
“Care for a drink Ms. Carson?” Steve asked.
“A martini would be nice.” Steve offered his arm and escorted her to the VIP bar where the two other men were seated.
“Martini,” Steve said to the bartender. He turned to look at her curiously. “Dirty?”
“Two olives,” she added, playing along. Where the hell was Stephanie?
“I must say I didn’t expect such a beautiful woman. “I was expecting more of an old maid/librarian type. Graying hair, glasses.” As he presented her the martini, Cheyenne wanted to say something snide but she decided to nod instead. She sat quietly, sipping on her drink, while the men discussed various subjects from soccer to stocks. Many of the people she’d seen backstage were milling about, as well as various other beautiful people and club kids.
“Ah here she is,” Ian announced as Stephanie entered the VIP lounge. Cheyenne felt so relieved she wanted to kiss her. She felt the tension in her shoulders release.
“Stephanie these are my business associates.” Ian escorted Steph to the bar/ “This is Steve Duran; he’s our transportation expert.”
“Charmed.” Steve kissed her hand. Steph raised her eyebrows and nodded.
“This is Mark Smith, our accountant and last but not least our lawyer, Rodney Campbell.” Mark was thin and tall—definitely the bookworm type. Rodney was older, with gray hair and had sharp beady eyes. Steph and Cheyenne shook hands with all three men.
“They wanted to meet the crew responsible for making Fury a hit in the states,” Cheyenne informed Steph, trying to convey her discomfort while locking eyes with Steph.
