Fan Girl (Los Rancheros)

by Brandace Morrow

  I laugh and reach for some napkins by the beer vendors. He wipes his hand and shoots the napkin in a trash can before walking up and ordering six beers. They load them up in holders for us. Clear flimsy plastic solo-type cups filled to the brim.

  As we walk back slowly to the backstage doors I inform him, “You used to play a lot of clubs in the beginning, so I would sometimes get a different t-shirt every weekend. Now there are set designs for each tour, so I only get one. This time I’m only going to one concert on the European tour and since the location is printed on them, I grabbed one for everybody. They always love the overseas ones. I have Bangkok, Amsterdam, Tokyo, Sidney, and Rio. There's a ton. They give them to their husbands and kids, keep one for themselves. Plus it's not like this is the only concert I ever go to. I see someone play at least once a month, don’t feel too special,” I tease.

  He's nodding thoughtfully and we're almost back to the green room. “Since you don’t have to pay for ours, I figure you have a sweet deal going.” He smiles, showing full dimples and glittering eyes. I smile back and hold the door open for him with my hip because both of our hands are full. The guys see us at the door and jump up to free our hands, then Deklan walks me back out to his dressing room across the hall.

  I sit down on the couch, then take off my jacket and lay it next to me. There are bright round light bulbs around a huge mirror with a producers chair in front of it to my left. In front of me is the door to the hall and portable closets with hanging clothes. To the right is a flat screen television on the wall. There’s a table below it with a coffee maker, a hot water carafe and a jar that says raw honey. Deklan tosses clothes out of the 'closet', seemingly at random, then looks at me with his hands on the bottom of his grey sweater.

  “I’m gonna change, you're welcome to stay,” he says in a mischievous voice.

  Hmm, to do the right thing or be naughty? A compromise, I think. “I’ll shut my eyes.”

  He laughs a smoky laugh that sounds like Gerard Butler. I feel my cheeks heat and know I’m blushing. Closing my eyes, I hear the sound of shoes being slipped off and hitting the bottom of the closet, a belt jingle as it's undone and a zipper as it goes down. I bite my bottom lip as I hear cloth slide, another buckle, and zipper going up. My breath is shallow, and I gulp the saliva pooling in my mouth then jump when Deklan tells me I can open them.

  My eyes open and I’m glad I’m sitting down, my knees surely would have given out. His tattoos are visible through the wife beater he’s wearing. Broad shoulders ripped with muscles, biceps bulging. He's wearing blue jeans and a black button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up. Taking a seat, Deklan laces up biker boots then stands back up and heads for the hot water carafe.

  He looks outstanding. Like he could be going to the MTV movie awards or walking down Rodeo Drive. I watch him put a huge helping of honey in the water and walk over to the mirror where he takes a big round brush, puts it in the middle of his head and rolls it backwards creating the perfect James Dean flip. That is unbelievably unfair. It took me an hour to do my hair and makeup. He just does one flip.

  He takes a seat with his honey water on the side of the couch and relaxes. He scans my face for a second and then asks, “Do you want to go to dinner tonight?” He obviously isn’t getting tired of me if he keeps asking me to be around. We don’t talk a whole lot, and I get the feeling he likes that. He's around people wanting his attention most days, and we know the ins and outs of our lives from our friendship before. At least I know generalities about him being busy, always traveling. Knowing who he is for real now, it makes a lot of sense.

  “I can go with you. I just have to get my bags for the flight.”

  “Cool, we can meet up at the buses. I have to pack all my shit since this is the last stop. We’ll go to dinner with the guys before the flight if you want,” he says, sipping the steaming water.

  “Okay.” I finally ask what I’ve been wondering. “Is your throat hurting, is that why you're drinking that?”

  He looks down at the cup and back up at me. “My voice gets too gravelly sounding when I go to smoky bars. I can feel it getting rough. I'm trying to smooth things out before I start warm ups.”

  I nod. His voice has been growly today. But I thought that was because of our chemistry, not the bar. Then I remember him singing Dream On, and think he’s smart to take precautions with such a demanding song coming up.

  He asks, “Where do you want to sit tonight?”

  I look at him surprised. “You mean if I could sit anywhere?”

  He nods his head and takes another sip.

  I think for a second and say, “Second row.”

  He tilts his head in question.

  I explain my logic. “Because first row will go to the rail, second row is set back enough that I will be able to see over their heads without anyone obstructing my view.”

  He smiles with dimple, and I feel like I just aced a test. “I’ll let them know. It's time to go next door and get wired up.” He drains his cup and holds his hand out to me.

  I take it, of course. We walk catty corner to the green room door where the guys are taking their earpieces out of the cases and threading them through the back of their clothes.

  Peter turns to me and says, “I don't know if you like Dark Knight but they're about to go on.”

  I do like Dark Knight. They have a harder sound than Rolling Bridges, but they can get a crowd going and hyped up for the main event. “Yeah I should get out there. I don't know how it works from this side of the stage though. Do I still go to Will Call?” I ask.

  Deklan reopens the door and ushers me out. He's done setting his pack at the back of his jeans and the earpieces are draped over his shoulders to the front. He walks to a man with a computer behind the stage and claps him on the back. “Hey Darrel. I need a ticket printed, do you have a minute,” he asks politely.

  Darrel, a middle-aged, balding man with a huge nose and close-set eyes, turns around. His smile is wide and friendly as he says, “Sure sure Dek, where at?” He turns back to the computer as Deklan tells him he wants second row, middle of the stage. A few clicks later and a printer comes to life down below. He bends down, gets the new ticket and rips off the stub part that would normally be taken off at the door in front. “Enjoy the show.” He hands me the ticket.

  I tell him thank you, and Deklan walks with me to the double doors, signaling the end of 'backstage'.

  We come to a stop right outside the door, just as Dark Knight comes down the hall from their own green room, adjusting earpieces and getting ready to go on. I look at Deklan and he's already watching me.

  He says, “I’ll meet you after the encore. I’m going to need a shower before we go out, so I’ll take one on the bus. After the show, come back to this door and tell the guard to show you to my bus. Don’t try to find it yourself. Break down after a show is crazy, and people will be running around everywhere. I want someone with you.”

  So thoughtful! I start walking to the door. “Sounds good! Break a leg, Dek.”

  He smiles and I turn around and walk past the guard. Right before I have to turn a corner by the stage, I can see the backstage door still slightly pulled open, and the security guard is talking to someone out of sight on the other side. Giving him instructions, I think.

  I find my seat and the accents around me are vast and different. I recognize Spanish and French, and German or maybe Dutch. They sound too similar to tell. There are English and Irish accents as well. Shortly after I tuck my backstage pass in my shirt and settle in my seat, the lights go down and the screaming begins.

  Chapter 15

  After the show, I follow a guard to the bus and hear the shower running as I climb the steps. I settle in a big leather couch with huge throw pillows and start to upload my clips of the concert onto YouTube while I wait. It was a great show, and I recorded almost all of Dream On. It's very rare for them to do covers anymore. I scroll through everything once it is loaded to make sure they uploaded correctly and di
dn’t get cut off, as can sometimes happen. Below the first video that went up tonight is one I don’t recognize. It's titled Show Prep. I have no idea what this is, so I click on it.

  The video starts with me, back turned to the mirror, doing my makeup. The silk robe looks ridiculous with the jeans you can see that I’m wearing. I’m lifting the ball of my foot on the floor and tapping it behind me as I sing and do my makeup. Then just as I know will happen the ohs start and I spin twice before stopping and look at the camera. “What are you doing,” I say.

  A deep voice I know as Deklan says, “What do you mean?” Anyone who has heard him speak on television would probably recognize that voice. It's smooth and smoky at the same time.

  “You better not be recording me. Give me that phone.” Then I lunge but he's already pushing the stop button. The last thing you see is a YOLO tattoo on a hand that's pushing off of the mattress.

  OH. MY. GOD. I can't believe he uploaded it! When? Then I remember he went into the bathroom while I was putting my shoes on. Does he not understand that there are a lot of RB fans that subscribe to my channel because I go to so many concerts? They’ll know exactly who that hand belongs to!

  Just then I hear the shower turn off, and I shoot off the couch. "Deklan Thomas!" I say in my most stern voice. This might turn out to be my mom voice, time will tell.

  He opens the door and steps out, still dripping with a towel wrapped around his hips. I momentarily forget my train of thought as I watch a drop of water snake down his chest to his tattooed abs that are most definitely an eight pack.

  “What's wrong, babe?”

  I blink and look up at his face. Babe? I blink again.

  “Ali?”

  I give my head a little shake, and hold my phone up. “You just outed me to the entire world as knowing you well enough to be in a hotel room together!”

  He looks at me curiously. “We do know each other that well.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. Does he not know, not care, what? This is the man who is crazy about protecting his privacy and never letting anyone get pictures of him with any girls at all.

  I try to explain patiently. “But everyone will think we have a relationship. You never publicize relationships, ever. You’re a private person. Why would you out us when we aren’t even together?” I’m exasperated and throw my hands up as I talk. Is the man crazy?

  He looks at me solemnly, looks down at his chest and asks, “Can you give me five minutes to get dressed, then we can talk about this?”

  I nod.

  He gives a little half-smirk and turns around, shutting the sliding door to the room in back while his ass in a towel is imprinted on my brain.

  I smell him before he opens the door, and it just collapses me back in my seat. Diesel cologne smells edible, as I’ve stated previously. It's cool and dark, just like a bad boy should smell. More like ten minutes later, he opens the door fully clothed.

  He's wearing a maroon shirt with jeans and a brown belt. Deklan sits at the booth in the kitchen area, so I move to sit across from him.

  He holds my hands in the middle of the table, gives them a squeeze, and starts talking. “I’ve always been a private person because I never dated anybody for long. It looks bad when you date models for two months at a time… or less. I wasn’t going to get a reputation when there was no reason for them to talk. With you, I want people to know. We have unprecedented chemistry. You’ve been my friend as DD and then add the baby?” He shakes his head. “We need to give this thing a chance to go somewhere. I like you, you smell good, you treat me like I’m a normal person. And trust me not a lot of people do that anymore. You’re funny, loyal… let’s face it Ali, you're kind of all that and a bag of chips, but instead of the chips, it’s a bun in your oven.”

  My mouth stays shut and my eyes stay wide.

  He smiles warmly at me and goes on, “I talked to my publicist earlier and told her I was coming out with a relationship she should be aware of. Whether or not we are in a relationship, I’m not gonna hide my kid, so I thought she should be aware of it. She wasn’t happy that we might lose sales because I’m off the market. You should decide in the next couple of weeks if you want that. We might not work out, who knows, but I want to be a dad to my kid. I’m still Redy and no matter what you think Deklan Thomas would do, I’m offering to do this with you.” He looks at me nervously.

  I sit back in my seat and try to breathe. Who knew Deklan Thomas was a runaway train?? I jerk forward and point out a huge flaw in this, “Deklan we’ve been a hookup and internet friends, that doesn’t make a relationship!”

  His eyes go glittery and hot and he tells me, “Don’t worry about that, baby. Can we just see what happens when we spend more than a few hours together? Maybe starting out with a few hours a day, consecutively, and not go months in between seeing each other? Is that reasonable?”

  “It all just seems so surreal, Dek. You’re going really fast,” I admit to him.

  He looks down at our hands and then back at me. “Ali, I never saw myself as a part-time dad. I don’t want to be that. This was unexpected, but not altogether unwanted. I’m just glad if it was going to happen, it wound up being someone I actually like being around… and looking at.”

  I roll my eyes. “If it was going to happen?”

  Now he rolls his eyes back at me. “The condom was in my wallet, it was going to get used. And the hole would still have been in it.”

  “I guess that is true,” I concede. “Sometimes shit happens for a reason. I still can’t believe you posted that video. You could have picked a time when I was in a better outfit.”

  His eyebrows lift in disbelief. “That was hot.”

  I shake my head. “No it wasn’t. At all.”

  He leans forward and says in a low voice, “It was fucking hot.”

  I look away and take a deep breath. “Anyway, how long do you have in L.A.?” I ask him desperately trying to change the subject.

  “We’ve got a few days off, then into the studio. So, six months probably. Enough time to figure us out.” His eyes are anxious, like he wants this really bad.

  I imagine he hasn’t had to plead his case to date anyone before. Then again there was never a kid involved.

  I sigh and relent. “All right. We see each other when we get back. I don’t know about anything else. I don’t want to come out to the public after a two day weekend. Either way I’m having your baby.”

  He nods. “Fair enough. Is being with me putting you off? Like the being famous thing?”

  “Dek, everyone is going to say I’m the fan that trapped you into having my kid, and you’re with me out of obligation. People will hate me. I have a good life right now.”

  “Listen to me, babe. If you were a valley girl I fucked when I was drunk and came to me pregnant, I wouldn’t want the world to know that. I still wouldn’t hide my kid, but it would be clear I wasn’t with the girl. You have been my friend for years, and the sex was mind blowing, and you’re body is rockin’.”

  “Deklan, the video of when I got on stage at eighteen is on my YouTube. I’ve never posted anything with me in it since then.”

  He jumps all over that. “Maybe you should! Do you know how many young girls could be positively influenced if they knew you got healthy and lost weight without a fad diet or whatever? You’re a success story. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Redy’s words coming out of Deklan’s mouth.

  Wow, I never thought of it like that. Inspiring the young girls that are who I used to be. Okay, now I don’t feel so bad about the new video, except for the fact that you can tell Dek’s in it. I feel like we’re opening a can of worms.

  “Okay, Dek. Let’s eat before I have to puke all over you, K?”

  He throws his head back and laughs. “You do know that the girls I’ve been around for years don’t eat anything right? They eat lettuce or some shit all the time and would die if they talked about puke.”

  I shoot back, “How’s that working out for
you?”

  Chapter 16

  We get to the table and all of the guys are there. Deklan gives a chin lift as the guys call out greetings to us being late.

  Tommy says, “So you only made her thirty minutes late, Dek? I’m disappointed.” The other guys laugh and I roll my eyes.

  I reply before Deklan can, “Trust me, if what happened is what you’re thinking I would be way more laid back by now.”

  All of the guys laugh and we take our seats, Deklan pulling out my chair.

  Peter leans to me saying, “We get together after every tour and relive the memorable moments. It’s tradition.”

  I nod my head and go along for the ride. There are stories of Tommy almost falling off stage into the crowd, Deklan forgetting lyrics and adlibbing, Fandy’s sound going out and the band going a whole song without an electric guitar that needed one, Alan waking up in the middle of the night to a girl groping him, panties flying and bras being lifted, and Tag almost missing a show when he went home with a girl and had to borrow a bicycle and pedal over six miles to get to the arena on time.

  I’m wiping tears from my eyes by the end of the night, and the guys are slightly drunk. I learn they don’t drink in excess if they have to play the next day, so it’s good for them to kick back.

  We have to leave by eleven to get to the airport. My bags were stowed in the car Deklan arranged for us. When I check out of the hotel my bill is astronomical, but so worth it. I don’t get vacations like this very often, usually I’m tattooing six hours a day, then doing paperwork. Even if it was just three days and I hadn’t gotten to see many of the sites, I will never forget a second of Paris. On the drive to the airport, I get a text. It immediately makes me smile.

  RedyGo: What up?

  DirtyDozen: What’s up Redy?

  RedyGo: Just wanted to see how your night went. Mine was INCREDIBLE.

  I smile so hard my cheeks hurt.

  DirtyDozen: Ooo all caps! Sounds interesting do tell.