my life as a pop album (my life as an album Book 2)

by LJ Evans

  The Lyft driver opened his trunk and the guys helped me with the food. The three of us headed into the backstage area where we were overtaken by people hustling about as if the earth could be saved by their movements. I clutched my bag and the two boxes of pizzas as I tried to keep up in my new wedges.

  We got to a staging area and the other guys were there but not Derek. We set up the food, and not only the band, but all the stage hands dove into it like it was their first meal in months.

  “Where’s Derek?” I finally asked Owen as he handed me a plate with pepperoni and olives on it, remembering from our time in McMinnville what I liked.

  “He went up to get your ticket and VIP pass so you wouldn’t have to go fight for it.”

  That made me all squishy inside. That Derek was looking out for me. I had just taken a bite of the pizza when I first sensed him. He’d stopped on seeing me, just like Mitch had, but he just stared. No whistle. No comment. No one else had seen him yet. He was still quite a few feet away. He inched his finger at me, asking me to go over there. I tried to swallow the bite I had taken as I slowly made my way to him.

  When I reached him, he took me in all over again.

  Finally, after what felt like forever, he said “This is a good look on you.” His mischievous smile with the cleft stretched appeared on his face.

  “Oh, come on, you know you like the pantsuit better,” I tried to tease.

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me up close to him so that my entire body was tucked up against his front.

  “I’d say my body disagrees.” His voice was husky and sexy, and I could feel his body part that disagreed pushing against his jeans and my tank.

  He kissed my temple and I melted into him. He took the VIP pass he had in his hand and placed it over my head, caressing my neck as he moved the long length of my hair out of his way.

  “So much skin, Little Bird, and not enough time.”

  And he was right. Not enough time to recover from being a puddle of goo. Behind us, Rob yelled out, “Derek-man, you better come get some chow before Mitch devours it all.”

  I heard Mitch mumble something about blood sugar and everyone was hooting. It wasn’t serious. The blood sugar thing. It wasn’t Jake. It was just a joke because the man was always starving, but it tugged at me anyway when they teased about it.

  Derek entwined his long, musician fingers with mine, and we walked back towards the table and the gang eating there. Rob shoved a plate covered with pasta at Derek and we found a spot on a set of amps to sit. We ate quietly while the buzz around us continued in the normal playful manner that surrounded the guys whenever they were together.

  Pretty soon a tall, model-like redhead showed up. She was in a black dress that showed off long everything. Long legs, long arms, long neck, and a barely curved body that I’d always envied because when it comes to bodies, the grass is truly always greener on the other side. She embedded herself on Rob’s arm.

  “That’s Rob’s wife, Trista,” Derek said when he noticed me watching her.

  “Did Owen really have a thing for her?” I asked because even as I watched, Owen was off flirting relentlessly with some female stage hand.

  Derek shrugged. “I think all the boys liked Trista.”

  I looked at him. “Even you?” I asked. He shook his head slowly, watching me.

  “No. She’s not my type.”

  “Tall, beautiful, redheads? Come on,” I said, putting my plate down and eyeing him like a teacher eyes a kid out of his seat.

  He put down his own plate, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me onto his lap. I let him as I tried to ignore the panic that fluttered into my heart.

  “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” His voice was still husky. I worried it was from too much reading and singing, but it only made my heart beat faster.

  I couldn’t respond, so I just shook my head.

  “I think you’ve been my only type my entire life.”

  I couldn’t help it, but I eye-rolled. Because, really? I’d known the guy less than a week and he was trying to give me a line like that? About the rest of our lives? Who talks like that? Especially on a three week joy ride?

  “Did you just eye-roll me?” he teased. I went to push myself off of him, but he held on even tighter. “If I didn’t have a gig right now, I’d be able to show you just what I meant.”

  I eye-rolled again. Cam would be singing my praises if she were here. He took several strands of my hair in his finger and twirled them up till they were near my mouth like he had the other day. It was sexy as all get out and made sure I couldn’t go anywhere unless I wanted to come away with a bald spot.

  His finger teased the corner of my lips. He leaned in as if he was going to kiss me in front of the band and the rest of the world that seemed to be backstage, but then George showed up at his side.

  George frowned at me. I could already tell he didn’t like me. I wasn’t good with people not liking me.

  But, I also quickly realized that George was a sleazy car salesman. And I knew sleazy car salesman. After all, I’d been around them my whole life. We tried to avoid that type at my daddy’s dealership like bats avoided the sun. George’s slicked dark hair and stupid goatee were supposed to seem hip, I supposed, but to me it just made him seem like he wanted to be the rock star but hadn’t made the cut.

  “Derek, you wanted to run through that song one more time before the show started, right?”

  “George, you haven’t met Miss Mia. Mia, George. George, Mia,” Derek said, while keeping his finger entwined in my hair although it was no longer teasing my lips.

  I stuck out my hand. George looked down at it, hesitated, and then shook it. “Mia. Good to finally meet you. You sure have this man all turned upside down.”

  “George,” Derek warned.

  But George ignored him. “He hasn’t been quite himself since he met you.”

  “I’d say the same thing about me. I really should be home running the car dealership instead of spelunking with a musician,” I told him with an attempt at a friendly smile.

  He eye-balled me. “You run a car dealership?” The doubt running through his voice angered me. After all, I was just a twenty-two-year-old girl with size-E boobs, what would I know about a business, right?

  “We pulled in about forty-five million dollars in sales last year. Number one dealership in the non-Nashville area. We’re pretty proud of that,” I told him. He eyed me again, still doubtful.

  Screw him. Screw all men like him. I felt my temper rise. I pulled myself from Derek’s lap, hair screaming before he let go.

  “I’ll just see you after the show. Good luck!” I started to walk away, but Derek caught my hand in his.

  He turned to George. “I’ll be out in five,” he said to his manager, then waited while George glared at me one more time before huffing away.

  Derek turned to me. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what.”

  “Don’t let him make you feel inadequate.”

  I just stared at this beautiful BB that had entered my life like a star falling from the sky. How could he possibly know that George had made me feel that way?

  “He’s just anxious that things will change. But he also knows I sound better than I have in months. And that is because I finally have someone to sing for.”

  “Wh-what?”

  He looked at me like he was surprised that I was surprised at his words. He sighed and pulled me close again.

  “I physically want to damage this bastard who wrote you that letter. You, Little Bird, have given this old soul something to sing about at last.”

  I stared into his gorgeous stormy eyes. “I don’t ever know how to respond to you.”

  “Just kiss me for good luck then.”

  I stared at his eyes and then his mouth, then looked around at the crowd that was trying hard not to watch us backstage. He tugged my chin towards him. “Miss Mia, kiss me.”

  And so I did. And he reached into my heart and pulled out several
pieces where he put them in his back pocket with the extra guitar picks he carried there. The walls of Mia that were crumbling were being sorted and stored into his possession. I didn’t know how to recover from that.

  It certainly wasn’t what I’d wanted for this three week adventure. Was it?

  He pulled away, that playful smile on his face, and started to walk towards the curtain, but only got about five strides in before he came back. He kissed me quick in that way I was rapidly getting accustomed to him doing and then disappeared onto the stage.

  I stood there staring at the empty space as the people around me ebbed and flowed.

  Eventually, Rob took mercy on me and brought Trista over. “Phillips, this is my wife, Trista.”

  “At least for today I’m his wife,” Trista said with a bright smile that let me know she was both teasing and sending him a message.

  “And this is why I love her. Keeps me on my toes.”

  “And honest,” she retorted.

  “Truer words could not be spoken. Mia hasn’t been around all this before. She’s green as a new blade of grass, make sure she doesn’t get trampled?” Rob said before he kissed his wife’s cheek and then departed.

  “Come on, I’ll show you to our seats,” Trista offered, and I followed in her wake, because really, that’s what it felt like. Like I was following a super model as part of her posse.

  We had seats just to the right of the stage in an area corded off from the regular crowd. I guess my VIP pass was really a VIP pass. I’d never had that before. Even as Jake’s little sister, we’d still been stuck in the regular bleacher section. Trista turned to me as soon as we sat down.

  “So, tell me exactly how you’ve snagged our unproclaimed bachelor?” She wasn’t asking in a spiteful or snotty way like I half expected. Instead it was as if she really was curious. Like Jake and Cam would be curious about any person who’d entered my world. Slightly protective.

  “I’m not sure you’d call him snagged,” I said with a weak smile.

  “Then you don’t know Derek.”

  “That’s true. I really don’t,” I said, even though I felt like I did know Derek, but not in the way she was talking about.

  “Derek has never, ever, and I mean ever, brought a girl backstage. Nor has he ever, after the show, taken any of the girls who have presented themselves to his hotel room.”

  I wasn’t really surprised by this now. It was what he’d protested that first day at the caves, and had now been validated by his band, and yet it was still strange to me.

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  Trista shrugged. “I think it has a lot to do with his dad, but you’d have to ask him.”

  “Because he lived at the PlayBabe Mansion?”

  Trista smiled. “Not just his dad, Derek and his brother, Dylan, lived there too. I think their mom was actually a ‘Babe’ or something. They all worked for Hugo.”

  I just stared at her. She laughed.

  “See, story he needs to tell.”

  More pieces of the Derek puzzle that I noodled on while the first band was up, some country blues band that wasn’t bad, but I couldn’t concentrate on. They were local to Oklahoma City. They weren’t registering to me because they didn’t matter… I wouldn’t see them again.

  But, once Derek came on stage, my brain went blank in a different way. I’d heard him at the fundraiser. Throaty and sexy, playing music that had made me tingle and reminded me of Otis Redding and all the greats. Reminded me of “Fall” and “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed. But, to be fair, I’d had a lot going on at the fundraiser. I’d had a lot of emotions going through me. I’d been worried about Cam and my parents. Even then, he’d drawn me. It was what had started the whole player conversation with Cam. And now I knew that he was literally a PlayBabe offshoot. Weird. Strange.

  Tonight, with my focus solely on him, it was different. The surprising thing about Derek on stage at this show was all the different instruments he played. He hadn’t done that the night of the fundraiser. Here, he played dueling keyboards with Mitch and a wood flute that reminded me of Peter Pan. In one song, he pounded some kind of African drum alternating beats with Rob on the regular drum set in a way that had my veins throbbing. He was extremely talented, in more than just a singer / songwriter way.

  I still noticed his smooth movements and the way he drew the eyes in the room, including mine. The whole crowd, men and women alike, were drawn to him. Even when he’d pop back to Rob, drumming away, or stand next to Lonnie as they jammed together, the eyes of everyone were really on him. There was something dynamic and beautiful about him, like watching an eagle soar through the sky. You couldn’t really look anywhere else even though the snowy mountains might be just as compelling. It was the eagle you watched.

  And the thrilling part? He still watched me. Like he had at the fundraiser. And the scary thing? The audience noticed. Especially the girls sexed out in the front row hoping he’d call one of them backstage. They noticed him watching me and stared daggers the way lascivious fan girls do. The way hopeful hunters do. I hated it, but loved it. Good Girl Mia wanted to run and hide because she never wanted to be the center of attention with people hating her.

  Adventurous Mia, New Mia, kind of wanted to shove it in their faces but didn’t know how.

  Trista on the other hand just stared back and eventually flipped a couple of the tramps off and told the muscled security guards to make sure they didn’t make it anywhere near backstage. People listened to Trista. She was the kind of person that anyone listened to.

  Towards the end of the concert, before the encore that would be demanded, Trista grabbed my arm and hauled me backstage again as the tramps in the front row screamed obscenities that even Cam would have blushed at.

  “We’ll miss the final song,” I said.

  “Believe me, you don’t want to be out there when they're done,” she said in a tone that reminded me of Cam watching out for me all over again.

  “Why?”

  “Those tramps in the front row? They’ll be obnoxious. It gets crazy when they are all vying to be seen by the band. Better to know what happens but not have to watch it.”

  We sat on a couch in the dressing room while we waited for the guys.

  “How do you do it?” I asked, truly curious.

  “Well, I’m not a band wife. I don’t tag along to every event.”

  “Isn’t that hard when they are on the road?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t get all of him that way, anyway. He’s thinking music the whole time, or doing that stupid caving. You do know they cave, right?”

  I blushed. “Yes. I kinda like it.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded and she laughed.

  “Well, no wonder you’ve snagged him.”

  “What do you do then?” I asked, even though I’d heard something about modeling.

  “I’m a hand and foot model.” That surprised me because she could be a whole-body model in my opinion. She seemed to read my mind. “Modeling is exhausting. And I like to eat. Anyway, the hand and foot thing pays well, and then I have an organic make-up company on the side.”

  “On the side?” I looked at her flabbergasted.

  “Well, it’s just an itty-bitty start-up, but it’s coming along.”

  “Wow.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled almost shyly.

  The band came in. They were sweaty and smiling, hyped up but exhausted too. The energy in the room could have reached the ceiling. Derek pulled off his shirt just as our eyes met, and he smiled that smile that was quickly becoming a necessity of mine just as the view of his six pack abs made my heart beat increase to the fluttering of a hummingbird.

  He reached for a clean t-shirt and pulled it on before loping over to me and squashing down beside me on the couch. “So, how’d it go?”

  I stared. “You know you were fabulous.”

  He grinned. “I was?”

  I hit him on the shoulder and on my way back he grabbed my hand and e
ntwined our fingers again. George entered. I found I didn’t really like George. His energy was so not Derek that I wondered how they had even been put together.

  “Derek, there’s some radio folks outside that want an interview.” He stated it like Derek didn’t have a choice.

  Derek groaned, kissed the back of my hand, and said he’d be back in a bit. The rest of the band and the crew all packed up while Derek was gone. I tried to help, but no one would let me. Trista waited for Rob, and then they took off back to the hotel.

  Pretty soon it became obvious that the other guys were just waiting because of me. Derek hadn’t said if he wanted me to stay or if I should just go back to the hotel. It felt awkward.

  “You guys don’t have to wait with me, you must be really exhausted,” I told them. I grabbed my bag and stood. “In fact, I probably shouldn’t wait either, right?”

  “If you leave, Derek will go fuckin’ crazy. You should definitely stay,” Mitch said.

  “Okay.” I sat back down. “But you guys go. Really. I’ll be fine.”

  They seemed hesitant.

  “Oh my God, I’m not fifteen. Go. I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, okay,” Lonnie said with his goofy smile, and the boys all shuffled off while I waited.

  At first, I flipped through my Instagram account again, posting some pictures of the venue. But I didn’t want to hit the pictures that would tear at my heart, so I flipped over to another site. Tiredness washed over me, and I found my eyes drooping. It was almost one o’clock. I fought it, but fell asleep on the couch in the dressing room.

  A gentle stroking on my hair woke me. I looked up into Derek’s face. He wasn’t smiling. “I couldn’t find you,” he said throatily.

  “Sorry.”

  “Goddamn it, stop apologizing.” It wasn’t said in anger, but it was probably the most frustrated I’d seen him, ever.

  “Habit.”

  He stared at me in the semi-darkness. “We’ll break it. Just like we broke the pantsuits.”

  I expected his tease to be accompanied by his gorgeous smile, but it wasn’t. He was serious. It wasn’t his normal mode, the happy guy seemed his norm. But, I was finding this solemn side came out with more ease than I’d expected at first.