Brando 2

by J. D. Hawkins

  “How is the album going?” Brando asks me.

  Rowland’s glance flicks between us rapidly, waiting for a response, before he realizes that I’m ignoring the question.

  “Whatever the state,” he says, picking up on the weird vibe and using the opportunity to take the lead, “it’ll have to be put on hold – because you’re going out on tour! All over America!” He smiles like a game show host who’s just told me what I’ve won.

  “What?!” I scream, a combination of excitement and panic rushing up like a tsunami wave. It feels like someone just punched me in the stomach. “How? Why? Are you sure?” I bite my lip, nerves taking over.

  “I thought you’d be excited,” Rowland says, leaning forward in his chair and placing his palms out wide on the table. “It’s not just any tour. You’re going to be the support on Lexi’s tour!”

  “What?!” I repeat, only this time it isn’t in a tone of excited disbelief, this time it’s a long wail of defiant irritation. I look over at Brando for the first time since we entered the office and he give me a ‘not my idea’ shrug.

  Rowland stands up and walks toward the window as he speaks. “It’s perfect, isn’t it? The idea came to me a few days ago, in the bath. Moments of brilliance like that, you know, you just have to let them happen. I mean, that’s the nature of genius when you think about it, am I right? It’s in the moments, not the—”

  “Why?” Brando suddenly calls out in a big, booming voice that slices through Rowland’s self-indulgence. For a second, I almost miss him.

  Rowland spins around to face us, still wearing his broad smile as he steps back behind his desk.

  “Come on, Brando, you of all people should know.” Rowland turns to me. “You and Lexi need each other. Lexi committed herself to this tour before we got her. Sure, she sold out some of the small towns that rarely get big stars coming through, but she’s yet to sell out the big cities - the cooler spots, the towns with more astute audiences. She just doesn’t have the edge anymore. Her singles sold like hotcakes, but her album was panned. Most people are already onto the next hot thing. Lexi needs some credibility, a boost. She needs to be associated with someone who has a little substance, someone street, so people don’t write her off already – and that’s where you come in!”

  “Well I don’t need her, so—”

  “Oh, but you do!” Rowland interrupts me as he lowers himself into his seat. “Don’t let the TV spot you played fool you into thinking you’ve already made it, young lady. The music bloggers might love you, but that doesn’t mean a thing in terms of sales. Until we start putting you in front of bigger audiences you’re just another cute girl with a guitar. Lexi’s your in.”

  “But my music speaks for itself. I don’t need—”

  “Exactly!” Rowland says, jabbing his finger in the air to dot his point. “You make great music, Haley. But you know what the problem with great music is? You need to actually hear it. Really hear it. Most people won’t give it a chance unless we sit them down and serve it right to ‘em with a cherry on top. Lexi is that cherry.”

  I just shake my head. This can’t be happening. Everything about this is wrong.

  “Listen.” Rowland leans forward over the desk. “You and Lexi, you’re like two sides of the same coin. Lexi’s got people’s attention, and you’ve got the talent to back it up. Alone, she’s going to be off the map completely in a few months, and all you’ll get are some great reviews and enough sales to buy a new guitar. But together,” he draws his hands together, locking them and smiling as if he’s proud of it, “you could take each other to a new level with this tour.”

  “I don’t know…” I say, but suddenly I do know. Everything he’s saying makes perfect sense. I’d have killed to get a tour the size of Lexi’s a month ago. I was happy enough with the opportunity to just record an album, but this is a chance that probably won’t come along many more times. I remember Jenna’s words, about how she had ‘One chance. And that’s all.’

  “Tell her, Brando,” Rowland says, sensing my still-lingering hesitation.

  I try to just glance at him, but something about his eyes makes it impossible, and I find myself being pulled magnetically to look at him fully. Even with the stubble and the circles under his eyes, he’s magnificent. Hating him would be a lot easier if he didn’t look like that.

  “He’s right, Haley,” Brando says slowly, almost regretfully. “The tour could be the difference between ten thousand album sales, or half a million. You’ll be reaching people in a tangible way, in their home towns, standing right in front of them, that all the internet buzz can’t even touch.”

  I swallow hard. I think about a whole tour with Lexi. Her supporting act. No doubt she’ll never let me forget I’m only there ‘cause she is. I remember her lording it over me in the bathroom of the club: ‘Brando’s new little toy.’ I close my eyes and ask myself if I’ve really got the strength to do this.

  “It’s just three weeks,” Rowland says, as if reading my thoughts. “Twelve dates.”

  I remain silent. Rowland sighs, nodding sympathetically.

  “Look, Haley, I get it. You don’t think you’re up to it. But you know what? You’ve already nailed one of the hardest TV gigs there is. You’re a natural. Just do what you—”

  “Okay, okay,” I say, interjecting so that I don’t have to hear his voice anymore. I know he’s giving me a spiel – something I never felt from Brando.

  I guess some guys are just better at lying.

  “I’ll do it.”

  Chapter 3

  Brando

  The second Rowland calls the meeting to a close, Haley springs out of her chair and breaks for the door, her slim legs not just for show. I bound after her, but she’s so fast that I only catch up just as she’s about to get into the elevator.

  “Haley, please,” I say, grabbing her arm.

  She spins around and I almost flinch when I see her eyes. It’s like I’m being skewered by them. It’s a look worse than any punch.

  “Let go,” she says. It’s her voice, but it’s been possessed by something that even I’m scared of.

  “Just give me a minute,” I say.

  “Sure. You’re my manager. I can give you a minute. Starting now.”

  “Come on, Haley.”

  She checks her watch. “Fifty eight. Fifty seven. Fifty six…”

  “Are you not even going to give me a chance to explain?”

  “Go ahead,” she says, folding her arms and pursing her lips. “Explain. Explain the bet you made. Explain how you got Lexi back to Majestic Records. Explain why you were in such a rush to make my record a hit, and what it really meant to you all along.”

  “Haley, come on,” I say, putting my hand on her arm, gently this time. She bats it away violently anyway, and I see the delicate line of her jaw move as she grinds her teeth, breathing through her nose. “I’m sorry. Okay? I fucked up.”

  She steps toward me angrily and puts her face close to mine.

  “You didn’t fuck up at all, Brando. You got exactly what you wanted. I fucked up. I trusted you. Signed a deal with you. Slept with you. I told—” she stops herself as the elevator opens and lets some people out, lowering her voice a little, from furious spite to hissing venom, “told you about Rex Bentley being my father. You took advantage of me, Brando. I put everything in your hands: My career, my secrets, my…body. And it was all just a stupid fucking game to you. Explain this: How could you do that to me? To someone you claimed to care about? How did you lie so well?”

  “I wasn’t lying,” I say, though I can barely look her in the eye. Her words fall like a sack of bricks, crushing me. It was bad enough losing her, but knowing that I hurt her this much is enough to push me over the edge. I try to speak. “I… I…”

  “Brando!” comes the call from across the hall. We turn in the direction of Rowland’s office and see him peeking out from the doors. “Get your ass back in here. Lexi’s on her way.”

  It’s the last thi
ng I want to hear right now. The last thing I wanted Haley to hear.

  She flashes me one last go-fuck-yourself look. “I’m beginning to feel like all I do is keep you warm for her.”

  “Haley!” I call, as she steps behind the elevator doors just before they close. I think about putting my arm in to stop them, dragging her out, getting on my knees to beg, but I don’t – I can’t. All I want to do is take her pain away – even if it that pain is me.

  Rowland is talking about something but I’m not really listening when Lexi shows up. I’m still somewhere deep in my thoughts, still trying to swim out of all the feelings swirling around inside of me.

  I wish I was anywhere but here. Hell is Rowland’s office. Where I’m forced to listen to a boss I find repulsive, where Haley tells me how much she hates me, and where the girl I once loved more than anything in the world, only to lose her to the shallow, plastic, star-making machine, is about to show up and piss all over my hopes and dreams once again.

  “Lexi!” he calls out suddenly.

  I turn slightly to look at the doorway. She’s still beautiful. Still remarkable. Still capable of making time stand still. Even now that she doesn’t wear the latex dresses and miniskirts that Davis had her in. Instead she’s wearing her gym clothes, yoga pants and a tank top – but she’s still unbearably hot. I turn back around to face Davis.

  “Hi baby,” she says to me, as she sits on the chair Haley was in and crosses her legs slowly, aware of the effect it always had on me.

  Rowland’s gaze flickers between us in the same way it did when Haley was here, only this time it’s me giving off the ‘let’s get this over with’ vibe.

  “I’ve got awesome news, Lexi. Haley’s gonna be supporting you on your tour!”

  Lexi times her derisive laugh perfectly. It’s the one she used to use in order to let all the men in the room know who’s in charge. “Why? To make me look better?” Her gaze slides over to me. “Or is this a pity thing? Your little protégé can’t book a gig, is that it?”

  “Come on now, Lexi,” Rowland says, his voice going as feeble as the poor guys who try to pick her up. “Haley’s the next big thing! She’s got a lot of people out there excited.”

  Lexi turns to me with her wet-lipped look. “Does she get you excited, Brando? Let me guess; this was your idea.”

  “Hell no!” Rowland exclaims, leaning back in his chair as if the insult blew him back. “You think he could come up with something like that?”

  “Rowland thinks that having a genuine musician on your tour might help you last long enough to be worth a second album,” I say, staring back at her, my voice deadpan. “Maybe some of her talent will rub off on you.”

  “Which talent is that, honey? The one she uses in the studio? Or the one she uses in—”

  “Ah-hem!” Rowland interrupts, struggling to gain our attention. She and I are locked in a stare, two bulls pushing each other until one breaks. If the last meeting was all about Rowland, he may as well not exist for this one.

  “Take your pick,” I growl, “she’s better than you at both.”

  “Enough!” Rowland shouts, slamming his palms on the table. “Jesus Christ! I almost regret arranging for you to go with them.”

  “What?” Lexi and I say at the same time, our heads swiveling back to Rowland. I can’t have heard him right. This must be some kind of bargaining tactic, some kind of threat.

  “Oh,” Rowland says, adjusting his collar as if he’s just been in a fight, “that was the other thing I wanted to tell you; you’re going on the tour with them, Brando.”

  “Ha!” Lexi laughs, throwing her head back and sticking her tongue between her teeth. She’s loving this.

  “Why, Rowland? I have work here, and—”

  “These are your two biggest artists, Brando, and they’re about to go on the biggest tour of their careers together! We need this to go smoothly. What are you going to do here in LA? Continue booking gigs and arranging studio time for your other groups? We could get an intern to do that. Your work is on the road.”

  “Yeah, come on, Brando. We can ditch the third wheel and make it just like old times again,” Lexi says, winking. Her eyes are sparkling at how much she’s enjoying this. “Shit. She can join in if she wants.”

  “This is maybe the most important event in Lexi’s, Haley’s, and Majestic Records’ history,” Rowland says, before I can snap back at Lexi. “I can’t leave it to chance.”

  I roll my eyes away and fix them on the building across the street. Three weeks of Lexi twisting the knife every chance she can. Three weeks of trying to stop the only two women I’ve ever loved from killing each other.

  Three weeks to get Haley back.

  And then it hits me: this is the best chance I’ve got.

  The only one.

  Chapter 4

  Haley

  “I want texts, emails, phone calls, every day,” Jenna says, so excited I’m scared she’ll drive the car into oncoming traffic. “And you better come prepared. I want diary-level insight. I want to feel like I’m there with you. How it smells, how it sounds, what it’s like. I wanna know about the crowds, what it must be like to stand in front of so many people. You better promise to give me all that.”

  “I promise.”

  “You better,” she repeats, as she pulls the car off the road and into the big parking lot. “Oh my God! Look at how many people are there! Three tour buses! It’s just like in the movies! HolyshitthisisamazingohmygodIcan’tbelievethis—”

  Her voice gets faster and more high-pitched until I have to squint and hunch my shoulders to stop my eardrums from bursting. She brings the car to a halt and looks around her like she just drove through a portal to Neverland.

  “This is amazing!” she squeals again, bobbing up and down in the driver’s seat.

  “Thanks for giving me a lift, Jenna,” I say, opening the door. She walks with me to the back of the car and we both pull my luggage from the trunk.

  “Well, I guess this is it,” she says, when I’m standing there with my guitar case in one hand and my luggage in the other.

  “I’ll tell you everything. I promise,” I repeat with a smile. She hugs me tightly, and I try not to cry. Not because I’m going to miss Jenna (though I will), but because I’m about to embark on a three week tour of my own personal hell. And on top of that, I’ll still have to perform with a smile on my face at every show. “And hey, good luck with that audition.”

  Jenna waves it away. “I’m more nervous about your tour than the audition, to be honest.”

  “Still, I really hope you get it.”

  “Me too,” she says, stepping back to the side of the car and opening the door. “See you in three weeks, Haley. Go give them something to remember!”

  “I’ll try flashing my breasts.”

  “Doesn’t Lexi already do that in her show?”

  I’m still laughing as she reverses her car back out of the lot, and then I watch as she concentrates so much on waving at me that it’s a miracle she re-joins the flow of traffic without crashing. I take a deep breath, turn around, and start walking toward the buses.

  My band’s already there. Paula, the drummer, and Aaron, the bassist, are loading bags into the open bay doors underneath the bus. Brian, my guitarist, is having a cigarette. He comes to meet me and takes my luggage.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “Can you believe this is really happening?” he says, his voice nowhere near as calm and collected as he looks.

  “Nope. Why are there three buses? And so many people. Is there another band?”

  Brian laughs. “Us, Lexi, and her band.”

  “Lexi gets a whole coach to herself?”

  “Could her ego fit in otherwise?”

  We laugh and Brian lifts my luggage into the storage bay. I put my guitar case in and take a moment to soak it all up.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I apologize. “Traffic. I hope I didn’t keep everyone waiting.”

  “You’re always
late,” Brian replies, teasing, before adding, “but some people are always later.”

  I turn my head toward wherever he’s looking and see a black Mercedes with tinted windows pull up. A big guy who looks like a bear in a suit jumps out of the passenger side and runs to one of the rear doors. He opens it and stands upright, his eyes engaging in their usual rapid-scan for paparazzi and rabid fans. But he’ll find none here.

  Her leg comes out first, long and slender, a practiced motion, and then the rest of her. I do a double take. She’s dressed like a valley girl who just got a promotion. White jeans, red high-tops, and a turquoise off-the-shoulder t-shirt. If it wasn’t for the big sunglasses and the destroy-every-thing-in-its-path walk, she’d almost be approachable.

  Seconds later, I realize how wrong that idea is. She makes a beeline for me and Brian, entourage of black-suited bodyguards and slightly less attractive hangers-on following her in almost perfect V-formation. She takes her glasses off slowly.

  “So you’ve finally got your big break. Tagging along behind me. Scared, little girl?”

  “What’s there to be scared of?” I reply, noticing Brian is frozen in place. “I’m doing what I love, what I do best.”

  Lexi laughs as if I’m a pet that just did something cute.

  “I forgot, you’re all about ‘real’ music, aren’t you? So long as you get those audiences warmed up for the main event, we won’t have a problem.”

  “Just make sure you don’t get them cold again, Lexi.”

  She takes a step closer to me and I noticed her bodyguards shift closer. Are they supposed to protect her – or me? Maybe they know something I don’t.

  Her voice goes cruel and sharp, all the teasing gone. “Let me just remind you quickly why you’re here. It’s because you’re too small to do it without trying to catch some of my glow. It’s because you fucked a guy who took you this far. It’s because Brando wanted to win a bet – to win me. You’re an open-mic also-ran, a bargaining chip, and a third wheel. We both know you don’t belong here, so just try your best, and try not to fuck up my shows too badly, okay?” She leans back and flashes me that sexy mega-watt grin, sliding her sunglasses back on.