Lisa exited the dressing stall, clapping her hands with enthusiasm. “I think I’m going to pass out.”
Lisa was wearing a form fitting red gown with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. “You look sensational,” Chelsie said. “A classic beauty.”
The girls met Devon and Miles at the studio to catch their limo. When Devon spotted Chelsie in her gown, he smiled for the first time in over a week.
“Goddamn,” Devon said. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple.
Chelsie allowed herself to pretend for a moment that everything was okay between them. They were blissfully in love in a utopian world. She imagined it was just like it used to be when they had first started dating – tender, exciting, and full of possibility. He let her go, and the moment ended. She regarded the dark circles under his eyes and his lifeless expression. Nothing was okay.
But tonight, they would lie.
The drive to the award ceremony was long and painfully quiet. Devon was on his phone the entire time. Chelsie let her gaze fall on the man she had fallen in love with over the past year. He was no longer that man, and it ate her up inside. Her rock star boyfriend was still a star, but he was not her rock.
What if Chelsie just needed to try harder to bring him back to life? What if there was still hope for him? For them?
“You excited?”
Chelsie was startled by the sound of his voice. He broke through her thoughts like a jagged thorn. He did not look up from his phone when he addressed her. “Very excited,” she answered. “Nervous?”
Devon was typing away on his digital keypad. Chelsie wondered if he’d even heard her until he finally shrugged. “Nah.”
Miles shifted in his seat across from them. “Don’t know about you, bro, but I’m about ready to shit myself.”
Lisa laughed. “I’m excited and nervous. I’ve had this recurring dream that I’m going to trip on my chunky heels and face-plant on the red carpet in front of Brendon Urie.”
“Stop… I’ve been having that exact same dream,” Chelsie joked.
“I won’t let you fall, babe,” Miles said to Lisa as he reached his arm over her shoulders.
Chelsie wondered if he said that to all his women.
She never did tell Lisa about her curious encounter with the bass player. The Grammy’s had been so close, and she didn’t want to take that experience away from her friend. Chelsie didn’t want to be the messenger that broke Lisa’s heart.
She would always have your back, though. The nagging thought flooded her with guilt as she watched how unaware Lisa looked in the arms of her lover. Lisa would never let Chelsie get played like that.
Chelsie sighed and slunk back against her seat. She would tell Lisa after the Grammy’s.
“Check it out!” Lisa pointed out the window as they ventured through Midtown Manhattan. The iconic building came into view, bustling with reporters and important people.
Their limo pulled up behind a sea of black, luxury vehicles and SUVs, all with tinted windows. It was a mystery who may be inside: Katy Perry, Bono, Jennifer Lopez. Chelsie felt small amongst the quintessential stars.
As their transport came to a stop, Devon finally put his phone away and slipped his Tom Ford sunglasses over his weary eyes. He held his hand out to her. “Ready?”
Chelsie nodded with a gulp. The driver came around to open the side door and they were instantly greeted with security guards and flashing camera lights. She stepped onto the concrete, holding up the heavy fabric of her designer gown. Devon’s hand was firmly linked with hers as she stood and looked up at the crowd.
A newscaster stood behind the rope, his back to them as he introduced their arrival.
“Devon Sawyer of Freeze Frame and infamous girlfriend, Chelsie Combs, make their way out of the next vehicle. Freeze Frame is performing tonight, and they are up for two separate awards…”
Infamous.
Chelsie plastered a dazzling smile across her face as she followed Devon onto the red carpet. Her heart was racing. She glanced behind her shoulder and spotted Lisa waving madly to the masses. Chelsie’s smile broadened. As they entered the venue, swarms of media with microphones in hand were waiting to get an interview. Chelsie and Devon posed for photos and shook hands with millionaires.
One of the reporters pulled her away from Devon as a camera followed her. “Miss Combs, a word?”
Chelsie smiled and hoped her nerves wouldn’t get the best of her.
“Miss Combs, your name has been in a lot of people’s mouths lately. How does it feel to go from a struggling waitress to a household name?” the woman asked.
“I count my blessings every day,” Chelsie answered simply.
“You don’t do many interviews, so you’re kind of a mystery to Freeze Frame fans. Is there anything we should know about you?”
Chelsie froze as her mind scuttled with hundreds of fun facts about herself. She was an only child. She hated flying. She could curl her tongue. She was a hula-hoop champion. She liked mushrooms. She wanted to visit Ireland someday. But she hated flying…
“I’m honestly not that interesting,” Chelsie concluded. “I’m probably no different than you. I’m obsessed with my cat. I spend most of my time reading or watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns. And I can rock a messy bun like nobody’s business.”
The reporter laughed. Chelsie relaxed, suspecting she hadn’t completely flopped.
“Well, we’re rooting for Devon tonight. Thanks for stopping by to chat.”
Chelsie gave an appreciative nod of her chin and continued walking.
“Love your new hair, Chelsie!” someone shouted from behind the ropes.
She smiled and waved.
Where did Devon go? Chelsie wasn’t good at this celebrity thing. She needed someone to, quite literally, hold her hand.
As she surveyed her surroundings looking for a familiar face, she saw him.
Noah.
He was chatting with one of the reporters with Beth by his side.
He had taken Beth to the Grammy’s?
Chelsie’s stiletto heels felt stuck to the carpet as her eyes examined him. He was wearing a slate, gray suit with a baby blue bowtie. His hair was still grown out, though styled and tamed with gel. A week or two worth of stubble adorned his handsome face. Beth stood next to him looking like a deer in headlights. Her hand was clamped around his upper arm, her dark purple dress swaying lightly as she fidgeted from one foot to the other. Her sunny blonde hair was pulled back tightly into an elegant bun.
Noah was mid-sentence when his eyes broke away and fell in her direction. Chelsie’s heartbeat thundered beneath her ribcage when their gaze locked. It felt like a forest fire had been lit underneath her skin.
She had never seen him look at her quite like that before.
***
Noah was good at faking things.
Smiles for the press. His eye exam on his driver’s license test. His love for Rosa’s pineapple upside down cake. His interest in Candyland.
But Noah couldn’t fake the feeling that came over him when he saw her standing there. He was dumbstruck. Chelsie was staring back at him, her eyes burning hot like embers. Noah didn’t hear the reporters speaking to him. He didn’t hear Beth repeating his name. The voices were a quarry of gibberish in the back of his mind. All he could see was her. All he could hear was the rush of heat surging through his veins.
She picked up the skirt of her dress and began to approach him. Their eyes were still connected by an invisible wire. Chelsie stopped a foot away from him and licked her lips. She dropped the dress, pressing her palms against the bustle of fabric. “Hey.”
Hey. It was easy enough to say. One syllable. A commonly used word in his vocabulary. An appropriate response. “You have bangs.”
He watched as she raised a hand to fiddle with her hair, ducking her head with a semblance of modesty. “Yeah… I’m still getting used to it,” she said.
Beth coughed beside him. “I think it looks gre
at.”
Noah awakened to his surroundings and felt Beth’s hand give his arm an effective squeeze.
“Chelsie… you remember Beth,” he said, redirecting the conversation to his date for the evening.
Chelsie gave a thin-lipped smile, her eyes only briefly leaving his. “You look beautiful, Beth. I’m sure you’ll have a great time tonight.”
“Thank you,” Beth replied.
Chelsie fixated her sights back on Noah. “Is Sam with Rosa?”
“Yeah,” Noah nodded. “He misses you.”
I miss you. He watched as flecks of teal and aqua sparkled in her eyes, reflecting the brilliant colors of her dress.
“I miss him, too.”
A photographer appeared in front of them, breaking the tension that had developed between them. “Noah Hayes! Can I get a picture of you and Chelsie?”
Noah had forgotten where they were. There were cameras, and reporters, and A-list musicians surrounding him. And here he was making moon eyes at a woman who very publicly belonged to someone else.
“Uh, sure,” he said.
Beth pursed her lips together and took a step out of frame. Noah gave her hand a light kiss before letting it go. Chelsie moved closer to him.
“Closer, please!” the photographer ordered.
Noah wrapped his arm around Chelsie’s lower waist and pulled her in until their bodies were touching. He could feel her heart beating through their layers of clothing. He could smell the lavender and lilacs in her hair.
“Thank you!”
The photographer snapped the photo and moved along to his next subjects. Noah dropped his arm and stepped back, missing her proximity.
“I should go find Devon,” she said, holding her white clutch between her hands. The tips of her fingers were painted a deep berry. “You’re going to do great tonight.”
“Thanks.”
She paused and Noah wondered what she had wanted to say. He could see the words climbing up her throat and stopping just before they touched her glossy lips. He wondered if those words echoed his own.
Chelsie said nothing. She gave him one fleeting glance before she turned away into the myriad of flashing lights.
Beth was leaning back against the wall, taking in the scene. “You like her,” she said.
Noah frowned as he removed his gaze from Chelsie’s retreating form. Beth had her arms crossed over her chest, but she didn’t look angry. She looked objective. “I like you,” Noah replied.
“Not the way you like her.” There were no jealous undertones or bitter inflections. Just facts. “It’s okay, Noah.”
Noah ran his hand over his face and let out a sigh of resignation. He was going to protest, but he couldn’t seem to find the words. He did like Beth. She was refreshing, and funny, and exactly what he needed in his life. Her only flaw was that she wasn’t her.
“Walk me to my seat?” Beth held out her arm with a faint smile.
Noah nodded. He did not address her statements. He didn’t try to justify or deny anything. He let it be. There was nothing he could say.
The band parted ways with their women and made their way backstage. They were about to play.
“Break a leg, boys!”
Noah glanced up to see Steven Tyler giving them a friendly wave. He nodded his thanks.
“Hey, where’s Devon?” Tad asked as they tweaked their gear.
Noah noticed the lead singer was no longer trailing behind them. “Bathroom break?”
“Cuttin’ it close,” Miles scoffed.
“Just had to take a piss. Shit.” Devon hobbled over from the bathroom looking jittery and strung out. “Let’s fucking rock this.”
“Dude, did you just get high?” Noah accused, stepping closer to the front man. “Right before the show?”
Devon was sweating and wiping his nose. “I’m good, man. Let’s do this.”
“Fuck you.” Noah got right in Devon’s face, his anger spiraling to the surface. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Devon pushed defensively at Noah’s shoulders. “Back the fuck up, Hayes.”
Noah pushed back.
“Jesus Christ,” Miles shouted, jumping in between them. “You seriously think this is the time for this shit?”
“A little professionalism would be excellent,” Sean said, appearing from behind the stage with a headset on. “You’re almost up.”
Noah regained control and adjusted his bow tie. He ground his teeth together. Any doubts he may have had about leaving the band were officially put to rest. He couldn’t do this anymore. Devon had chosen his path and now it was time for Noah to choose his. The music had brought them together, but it wasn’t enough to keep them together. Devon had allowed himself to be sucked into the blinding lights of stardom – he’d gotten swept away in the cheap thrills. As much as it killed Noah to watch his old friend make a swift descent towards rock bottom, Noah couldn’t stick around to watch him crash and burn. Devon needed to pull himself out on his own.
“Five minutes!” one of the producers shouted.
Noah picked up his guitar. He needed to re-focus and remove the mindless clutter from his thoughts. There was no Devon, no band drama, no Chelsie. None of that existed. It was just him and his guitar – like old times. He grazed his thumb against the strings, basking in their reassuring chords that reverberated through him. He played the first few notes of ‘Hometown Girl’.
“You’re up!”
Noah listened to the announcer introduce them as they got into position. This was it. This was the moment every musician dreamed about: The Grammy’s. Performing in front of hundreds of acclaimed performers and celebrities. They were amongst so much talent. They were the talent. Noah had envisioned this since he was a small child when he would sneak into his father’s closet and play songs by The Beatles on his rust-colored acoustic guitar. He’d fantasized about being on a stage like this with smoke, and strobes, and colorful lights. His heart rumbled in his chest as the curtains were pulled, revealing the most high-profile audience he had ever performed for.
No pressure.
He strummed over the first note, the chords vibrating through the expectant auditorium. Noah closed his eyes. Here we go.
Tad jumped in with a ‘one, two, three’ on his drums and the song took off. Noah had played this song so many times, he could do it in his sleep. He glanced over at Devon who was already dancing around and head-banging on stage. Noah couldn’t help but smile. The energy on stage was contagious. If he was going out, he wanted it to be like this. It was almost like old times again as he watched his friends bounce around with a vitality he hadn’t witnessed in months. Noah’s eyes narrowed through the smoke and he looked out at the sea of artists he had admired since he knew what music was.
Devon’s raspy voice echoed through the music hall and recoiled through him like an old friend. There were no fumbles. They didn’t miss a note or a beat. They were young, bright-eyed musicians again running on pure adrenaline and a genuine love for performing. They were not jaded. There were no vices.
There was only music.
They ended the song with passion and efficiency. The crowd went wild with whistles and applause. They received a standing ovation. Noah let the emotions wash over him like a warm hug. He threw his arms up, raising his guitar in the air like a well-deserved trophy.
He shared a triumphant look with Devon, and for just a moment, everything was perfect.
18 Chapter Eighteen
As soon as the awards ceremony concluded, it was all about the after parties. It felt like Noah’s high school prom, only with million-dollar estates and the finest recreational entertainment.
Noah and the band mingled outside the venue signing autographs and posing for more photo ops. Beth, Chelsie, and Lisa were waiting in the SUV as they wrapped up. They had decided to continue the party at Marley’s – it seemed like an inevitable end to the evening. They had been discovered there two years ago on that small, dark stage in front of thirty people.
>
Devon waved to the crowd as he jogged over to their oversized limo, the coattails of his tuxedo billowing behind him. Noah followed and slid in next to Beth, facing across from Devon and Chelsie. Miles and Tad piled in last and fell back into the cushioned seats with an exhilarating ‘whoop’. Tad had been the only band member who chose not to bring a date that evening. Not because he couldn’t find anybody to go with him, but because Tad had never “dated” anybody in the time Noah had known him. They had insisted he take Julia, but he’d refused. Tad was the classic band geek in high school who only left his couch to go pick up the newest video game release. Noah wasn’t sure why fame and fortune hadn’t given Tad a newfound confidence with the ladies, but Tad didn’t seem to care.
“That may have been the best night of my life,” Lisa said, squeezing her fingers into Miles’ upper thigh.
Noah watched as Chelsie rested her head on Lisa’s shoulder as the vehicle began to move. Fuck, she was pretty. From her heart shaped lips, to her milky skin, to her meticulously manicured toenails peeking out through her strappy heels. She was the type of woman other women wanted to hate because she was just so pretty, but they couldn’t because she was as equally kind-hearted. Chelsie Combs was one of those rare females who didn’t fit into any category.
Then there was Beth. She was sitting beside him in silence with a passive disposition. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap as she gazed out the window over Lisa’s shoulder. She probably felt out of place amongst strangers. Noah placed his hand on top of her interlocked fingers and offered her a smile when she looked up at him. He had intended the smile to come off as comforting, but he feared all it said was, ‘I’m sorry’. Beth did not smile back, but she did entwine her fuchsia-tipped fingers with his as if to reiterate her earlier statement of, ‘it’s okay’.
“Marley’s… gosh, that brings back some memories,” Chelsie mused, her head still leaning against Lisa’s shoulder. “I think my whole life changed there.”
Aria (Duet Series Book 1) Page 22
