“I like that one,” Jason called out to her.
“Arggh!”
“What, you don’t think Alex Wilder will want to see your beautiful chumbawambas?”
“Not during the show!” Shannon cried. “And don’t call my girls chumbawambas.”
“Your bazonkas?”
“No.”
“Your knockers?”
“No.”
“Airbags? Chachas? Jugs?”
“No!” Shannon poked her head out of the dressing room. “Besides, I thought you didn’t like boobs.”
“Your milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,” Jason said solemnly. “Even the gay ones.”
“Oh hush,” Shannon said, giggling. “I can’t have my ta-tas popping out at a rock concert.”
“Why not? I think it’s a good look for you.”
“Are there any dresses I haven’t tried?”
“I think there might be more on the clearance rack,” Jason said. “Want me to go get them?”
“Yes please,” Shannon said. She sighed. “I’m sorry you have to put up with all this.”
“Girl, shopping with you is not something to put up with.” Jason leaned down and kissed her on the nose. “Stop being so down on your fine self.”
“Thanks, Jason.” Shannon closed the dressing room door to wait for him. She stuck her tongue out at the mirror. If they didn’t find anything that fit her, she would just have to go to the concert naked. That would get Alex Wilder’s attention. She laughed at the thought.
“Here you go,” Jason said, throwing a dress over the dressing room door. “One left in your size.”
Only one in her size. Of course. Frowning, Shannon pulled the black dress off of the hanger.
“This looks way too tight,” Shannon said.
“Just try it,” Jason called through the door. “It can’t be worse than the hot dog dress.”
Shannon pulled the dress over her head. To her surprise, the fabric was clingy but not pinching at her hips. She examined herself in the mirror. Not bad.
“Well? How does it look?”
Shannon opened the dressing room door and Jason gasped.
“Oh. My. God.”
“It looks okay, right?” Shannon tugged at the hem. “I think it’s a bit short.”
“It’s perfect. Come here, look in the full-length mirror.”
Shannon let herself be tugged over to the mirror, and she was surprised at what she saw. The dressing room light hadn’t illuminated the dress well from above, and now when she moved she saw that the fabric had a slight metallic sheen that sparkled in the light. The neckline was draped, scooping just low enough to show a hint of cleavage, and the fabric was ruched just above the waist at the right side.
Turning around, Shannon saw that the satiny fabric flowed over her curvy hips and pulled inwards, creating a nice hourglass silhouette. She had to admit, it fit her well.
“You look stunning,” Jason said.
“I don’t know if I would go that far.”
“Stunning,” Jason insisted. “We’re getting it.”
“Okay,” Shannon said. “I like it.”
“I love it,” Jason said. “And you know what else I love?”
“What?”
“Shoe shopping. Get dressed and let’s go find something that will match.”
“Okay,” Shannon said. Jason picked up the unwearable dresses in his arms and walked out. Shannon went toward the dressing room, then paused and turned back to the mirror.
The dress did look stunning. She only hoped Alex Wilder thought so, too.
CHAPTER TWO
Julian Bremmer sat at the end of the bar, trying to avoid eye contact with any of the girls who kept checking him out. They had to know that he was from Wilder Side, but the last thing he wanted to do right now was sign another autograph or get hit on by some scrawny bleached-blond type who only wanted him because he was famous. He raised two fingers and the bartender splashed another shot of bourbon into his glass.
Was this his sixth or seventh drink? Julian had forgotten to keep track, but the haze that was settling around him nicely made him think that it was probably more than he remembered. Call it six. It was the morning after their last tour stop in San Francisco, and they had slept on the tour bus all night while the Jim drove them down into Los Angeles.
Only a few more shows, Julian thought. And then what?
Everything seemed muted, dull. The whole world swirled around him, pouring money into his lap while he tried to make sense of it all. Fame had come upon him suddenly, and he didn’t feel like he deserved it. Someone else should have become the lead guitarist for Wilder Side. Someone with more talent than him, someone who would actually appreciate the finer things in life and wanted to fuck all of the young skinny groupies that flung themselves at him after the shows. Someone who didn’t have clouds hanging over his head all the damn day.
Music was the only thing that drove away the clouds nowadays. Well, music and alcohol.
He looked down at his glass, but it was empty. He hadn’t even tasted the liquor. He waved at the bartender again.
“You think you should slow down a little?”
Julian threw a hundred dollar bill on the bar and pointed at his glass. The bartender raised his eyebrows, but didn’t protest. He took the bill and poured the bourbon, and Julian settled down on his stool, his head bent over the glass. He took a breath and tried to remember the last time he had felt something.
A hand clapped on his back and he steeled his face into a smile, thinking it must be a fan. But when he turned to look, it was just Alex.
“It’s eleven o’clock in the morning,” Alex said, frowning at Julian’s breath. “You’re a drunk.”
“And you’re a hack,” Julian retorted. “Go write another song about losing love or finding love or whatever it is we’re doing songs about now.”
Alex grinned.
“Good enough to get us on the main stage at Rock City,” he said. “What is this, your third drink already?”
“Something like that,” Julian said. “What’s it to you?”
“Listen, man. I needed to talk to you. Pat’s worried that you’re drinking too much. We’re all worried.”
“What is this, an intervention?” Julian was vaguely aware that he was slurring his words, but he didn’t care. “Fuck you.”
Alex’s grin evaporated as suddenly as it had come.
“No, fuck you. We need to get the sound stuff done, we need to get everything worked out-”
“Daniel always takes fucking forever to set up his amp. It doesn’t matter if I’m late.”
“It matters to me. Rock City is a big stage. This is a big break.”
“Um, hello?” Julian gestured at the girls who had clustered together at the door. They were all staring at Julian and Alex. “We have too many fans already. I’m chasing them away with sticks. We’ve had our big break. We’re rolling in it. What more do you want?”
“I can’t believe you’re just throwing this away. We could be HUGE. We could be, like, the next Beatles.”
“Can we skip the Beatles pop rock shit and get to the good stuff, then?”
Alex rolled his eyes.
“Look, I’m trying to do the best with what we have to work with. But there’s so much shit I’m having to deal with right now.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Like the last gig in San Diego is all fucked up because Cheap Trix decided they want to play at the same venue as us and the guy is trying to decided who should open for who.”
“Let Pat deal with it, he’s the manager.” The full import of Alex’s words didn’t hit Julian for another beat, and then he was furious.
“Wait, what? Cheap Trix? That girl rock bullshit? What the fuck?”
“I know,” Alex said. “That’s why I’ve been off talking with people on the phone trying to work this shit out.”
“I’m not opening for Cheap Trix,” Julian said, shaking his head angrily. He lea
ned back on the stool and had to catch himself on the edge of the bar before falling. Dizziness swept over him. Maybe he had been drinking too much. Alex didn’t seem to notice, though - he was off in his own world.
“It’s a crossover audience, man,” Alex said. “I don’t mind them playing the same stage. But they should be opening for us.”
“Fuck girls.” Julian gulped the last of his drink. “Fuck ‘em. And not in the good way.”
Alex got an odd look on his face, and not for the first time Julian wondered if he was gay. The lead singer had always had tons of girls milling around him after shows, but he never had a girlfriend. Sure, he might have been one hundred percent obsessed with music instead, or maybe he was a straight-edge morality guy, but no, Julian didn’t think so. Julian was pretty sure he just wasn’t interested.
Whatever. It wasn’t his life, and it wasn’t his problem. He had other issues to deal with. Like the fact that his glass was empty.
Alex’s voice was still going, and Julian tuned back in.
“And we’ve got to find a new sound guy and driver, because Jim is quitting, and we need a graphics person and a tour photographer and get the new recording mixed.”
“I thought it was already mixed.”
“Asher didn’t finish his recording until yesterday.”
“What? Why not? We’ve been done with that for days.”
“His girlfriend was fighting with him on the phone until like 1am the night we recorded.”
Julian rolled his eyes.
“Like I said, fuck girls.”
The girls by the door had gotten up the nerve to approach them, and they were within hearing distance. Two of them tittered nervously at Julian’s comment.
“Um, hey, are you guys from Wilder Side?” The blond girl in a miniskirt and furry boots cocked her head, flashing a broad smile at them. Alex smiled back but Julian just looked down balefully at his empty glass.
“Sure am. Can I sign an autograph?”
“Oh my god, you’re Alex Wilder!” One of the other girls flipped out. “I can’t believe it’s really you!” She pulled out a cell phone and started taking picture after picture. Alex dutifully signed autographs, and the last girl pulled up her shirt to have him sign her boobs. He blinked hard and carefully wrote his name across the generous cleavage. Julian imagined that he could see the singer shudder.
“You’re the guitar player, right?” the girl with the boobs asked Julian. Ah, shit. “Would you autograph me, too?”
Julian stood up a bit shakily, pushing another bill across the bar.
“Sorry, I’m not allowed to write on flesh before noon. It’s a Lutheran thing.” He pulled Alex’s arm roughly away from the cluster of girls. “We’ve got to do a sound check, anyways.”
“Thanks for listening, ladies,” Alex said, waving as he was dragged away. “Make sure you check out our new album.”
“It’s a Lutheran thing?” Alex said accusingly when they were out on the street. Julian shrugged.
“It might be. Anyway, you wanted me to stop drinking and look.” He spread his hands out innocently. “No more drinking.”
“You don’t have to be so rude to our fans,” Alex said.
“I don’t give a shit about our fans,” Julian said. “I just want to blot everything out until the music starts, okay?”
“Look, I get it,” Alex started to say.
“No, you don’t.” Julian frowned, unsure of how to explain the depression that had blackened all of their tour. The halo of liquor was already starting to wear off now that they were out of the bar. The sun seemed entirely too bright in the sky. “You don’t get it.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t get it either,” Alex said. He looked down at the ground and they walked side by side in silence.
Maybe I don’t get it, Julian thought. But at least I know what my demons are.
It had always seemed to him that everybody else around him walked on air, but maybe it wasn’t so simple. It struck him that he might have just been overlooking the hurt that each person carried inside. You couldn’t see hurt, after all. A man who looked liked he owned the world might have a crack running through his heart, deep and black and invisible, and Julian would never know. Maybe Alex was one of them.
Surprisingly, this didn’t make him feel worse. Instead, he felt the loneliness lift off of his shoulders, as though the shared burden of invisible pain had given him a new circle of friends, even if he didn’t know who they were. He put one arm around Alex’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry man,” he said. “I’m gonna try to do better, I promise. I am trying.”
Alex’s eyes lifted, and a small smile brightened his face.
“Thanks, Julian,” he said. “I appreciate it, I really do.”
“Sure thing,” Julian said, smiling back even though it hurt. “Now let’s go be rock stars.”
CHAPTER THREE
They were in the concert hall and Shannon thought she just might die of excitement. The security guards saw their backstage passes and waved them through the first barrier. They had made it all the way up to the front of the stage, fielding nasty looks from some of the other fans. Finally the lights went down and Shannon held her breath. It was incredible that they were about to see Alex Wilder himself.
Shannon screamed along with the rest of the fans when Alex came on stage, but her attention was strangely drawn to the other members of the band. Now that she was actually seeing them play, she was fascinated by how all of the different musicians worked together. The energy that came off of them was palpable. She wished that she had been able to bring her camera to the show, but photography wasn’t allowed.
Except for cell phones, Shannon thought, rolling her eyes at the crowd of fans waving their phones in the air to take pictures. She would rather not have photos at all than have stupid crappy photos. ARGH. If only she had her camera! She didn’t think of herself as a photography snob – a Canon 60D wasn’t much to be snobby about – but damn if she didn’t hate the latest trend of blurry sepia-filtered cell phone pictures being posted all over her social networking sites.
The closest band member was the lead guitarist, Julian Bremmer. Shannon didn’t know much about him, but as she watched him play she was mesmerized by how his fingers flew along the strings, dancing to the rest of the music. Alex Wilder was walking around the stage, feeding off of the crowd’s energy. Julian, on the other hand, seemed to be focused entirely on his guitar and the music. His head was bent over the strings, his loosely cropped dark hair falling just over his forehead. It would make a great portrait study, Shannon thought.
What a loser I am. Thinking about school even when I’m at a Wilder Side concert.
Shannon thought that perhaps Julian was nervous, but then he looked up at the crowd during a break in his part and she could see that there was no hint of anxiety in his eyes. He was totally calm and confident, surveying the throngs of cheering fans without any pause or hesitation. You love us, his expression seemed to say, because we deserve it.
He did deserve it – Shannon was amazed at how fast his fingers worked the strings during his solos. It seemed effortless for him, and yet the music came out frenetic, hard and fast and perfect for every song.
The concert was over too soon, and as soon as the last note was played Julian had his guitar slung back over his shoulder, unplugging his equipment. The only concession to the audience was a quick wave with one hand. The music was done and he was done too, as though it were the notes that buoyed him up and allowed him to survive on stage.
“I can’t wait to see Alex,” Jason said as they filed up towards the back room.
“Sure,” Shannon said. She was off in fantasy land already. Sure, Alex was great, but she couldn’t get her mind off of the deep brown eyes of the guitarist.
“You, come with me.” The band manager’s words interrupted her thoughts and for a moment she was disoriented. Then Jason was pulling her hand to come along.
The manager who had come over t
o them looked her up and down.
“Who’s she?”
Shannon blushed deeply. Under his gaze she felt every insecurity of hers come to surface. She was too fat, she wasn’t pretty enough, she wasn’t the right kind of girl. She felt like screaming at him that he wasn’t one to judge, but she knew that it was different for women. She was the one in the tight dress and the spiked heels, and therefore she had to submit her appearance for his approval. It sucked, but that was just the way it was. That was the way it had always been.
The fat man shrugged.
“You’re not a crazy fan, are you?”
“Of course not.” Shannon bristled with the insult. If she had been tall and thin, the man would never judge her as crazy. If she was a beautiful model, he would be the one to grovel at her feet and beg her to come with him. She held onto her anger as they made their way back to another room. Shannon was still hot with embarrassment but it quickly melted away as she saw what was backstage.
Lights, lights everywhere, everything mottled with color. Shannon looked around, ignoring for now the people in the room and reveling in the illuminated atmosphere. It was beautiful here. She wanted to go pull out her camera and shoot the scene exactly how it was.
Jason nudged her and she came back to reality.
“I think he wants to talk to you, Shannon,” Jason said.
“What?” Shannon looked over and saw the guitarist sitting on a couch between two beautiful blonde girls. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes locked on her.
“No way,” she said.
“Way.”
Shannon felt Jason’s hand come around her waist and push her forward. She tottered on her heels.
“Go on, go mingle.”
“I don’t know what to say though!” She looked behind her, certain that there was some other fan that Julian was looking at. It was just her and Jason, though. She felt her stomach gurgle with nervousness.
“Say you’re his biggest fan.”
“You are no help at all, do you know that, Jason?” Shannon inhaled deeply and walked over toward Julian. What could she say? He was already deep in conversation with the two blond beauties, and she fingered her red hair nervously. There was no way he could have wanted her to come over. She stood there for a second, trying to decide whether it would be completely awkward if she just turned and ran out of the room instead of introducing herself.
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