by Theresa Jane
Thin, narrow buildings of red bricks and white trim filled my view, and I just wished I could get out and explore. I could feel my hand twitching with the need to draw every little detail of every corner of this new place.
“Freya, we need to go,” Liam said hurriedly, and I turned back to the door where he was waiting impatiently for me. Daryl and Martin were on either side of him, ready to escort us to the lobby where we would meet the rest of the security team again.
Taking one last longing look out the window, I slowly made my way over to Liam. He took my hand roughly in his and we were out the door and in the elevator faster than I could blink. The ride was slow and silent as I let my mind wander.
“Liam?”
“Hmm?” he mumbled, not looking up from his phone.
“I was wondering, you know, considering this is the first time I’ve been out of the country, and we are in Amsterdam….”
“What is it, Freya?” He smirked, looking up at me finally.
“Well, will we get to see any of it other than from the other side of a window?”
“I don’t know, I’ll see if I can fit something in,” he answered, but I could see something in his eyes that told me there would be no time for sightseeing. He leaned over and pressed a rushed kiss to my lips as the elevator came to a stop.
“Sir, the car is ready out the front,” Daryl said hurriedly as the doors to the elevator started to open.
“How’s the crowd?”
“Not as big as when we arrived. We should be able to manage it.”
“Good. Freya, you ready?” Liam asked, looking over to me and giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Maybe,” I shrugged, my eyes quickly being drawn to the mass of people idling outside the hotel entrance. “Don’t they ever lose interest?”
“Not usually. I once met a fan who had camped out the front of a hotel on the hunch that I might be inside. They stayed there for five days before they realized I hadn’t been staying there.”
“That’s insane,” I muttered as Liam was distracted by something Daryl was whispering in his ear.
“Freya, Daryl and Martin are going to stay on either side of you to get you through the crowd.”
“Where are you going to be?” I asked, feeling a frown spread across my face.
“Right behind you, I promise,” he assured me, but I couldn’t help wondering why I couldn’t walk with him.
“Okay,” I answered uncertainly as he dropped my hand and Martin and Daryl came up to flank me on either side.
“Come on, Miss Freya," Daryl instructed, pressing a hand against my lower back to get me moving. I looked back at Liam, who was busy on his phone again. Then all thoughts were wiped from my head as the noise of the crowd outside filled my ears and snatched any thoughts I did have from my mind. Was this what it was always going to be like?
The crowd pressed in on us, shouting and yelling for a man that seemed unreal for them. As if they might touch him and have fame of their own. I saw desperate eyes searching for something that would sate something inside of them. A desperate need for the light that fell so easily on their god-like rock star. A light which often burned too brightly and always faded out faster than it came.
Finally, we reached the car, and Daryl nearly lifted me inside, closing the door firmly behind me as he turned his back to stand guard beside it.
Suddenly, the car jerked into motion, and I gasped in surprise. I looked out at Daryl and Martin and saw a look of distress on their faces. I immediately knew something was wrong.
“Wait, what about Liam?” I asked in alarm, looking through the back window and not seeing him among the crowd of people.
“He’s coming in another car, miss,” the driver explained, and all my attention went to him. His face was hidden under a black driver’s cap, and I couldn’t help but sense a hollowness in his words.
“Why?” I demanded, casting another glance behind me. An uneasy feeling began to settle in my stomach before I turned back to the unfamiliar man in the front seat.
“Don’t worry, miss. I’ve done this many times before,” he assured me, but I felt anything but comfortable.
“Who are you?”
“I’m another member of Mr. Henderson’s security team.”
“I’ve never met you before,” I answered skeptically as the car continued to speed dangerously through the streets of Amsterdam.
“When were you hired by Liam?” I asked, trying to keep my nerves under control. Liam had introduced me to all of the security team back in New York. I had never seen this man.
“Just recently, miss,” he answered, and even the tone of his voice made my skin crawl.
“How long till we get there?” I asked, shifting uncomfortably. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and it nearly made me jump out of my seat. Quickly, I pulled it out, keeping one eye on the driver as I read the message from Liam.
Freya, where are you? What’s happening?
Well, that answered the question of whether this was part of Liam’s plan or not.
“We should be there in less than twenty minutes, miss,” the driver responded, and I looked up at him in alarm. Who was this man?
“Great,” I answered, trying to keep my voice from shaking. My phone vibrated again, and I looked down to see that Liam had sent me two more messages.
Answer me, Freya
What’s happening?
Quickly, I typed out a reply.
I’m with one of your security on the way to the venue.
I answered, not wanting to worry him. Maybe I was overreacting. However, when I received the next message from him, I knew I hadn’t been imagining the distress on Daryl and Martin’s faces. I was not meant to be alone in this car.
Freya, that man is not a member of my security. Daryl was meant to be driving both of us.
Suddenly, my body felt heavy and cold as I stared down at his last words. If this man wasn’t meant to be driving me, then who was he?
What’s going on?
I replied, my eyes darting up to the imposter in the front seat. Who was he? What did he want with me?
What street are you on, Freya?
I looked out the window and quickly typed the name back to Liam, who then replied that he was coming to find me. Apparently, all the cars were fitted with GPS and Daryl was accessing my location now.
“Is everything alright, miss?” the man asked. His voice sounded almost like a threat. I couldn’t help but think I had heard his voice before. I just couldn’t remember where.
“Fine,” I answered quickly, stuffing my phone back in my pocket.
All of a sudden, the car came to an abrupt stop on the side of the road and I felt my heart drop through my chest. What was happening?
“You don’t remember me, do you, Freya?” The man asked ominously. He turned to face me, and I gasped in horror. It couldn’t be. I thought I left him back in New York. Why would he follow me? How could he follow me?
“Leave me alone,” I shouted, fumbling with the handle of the car as I desperately tried to get out.
“Don’t worry, Freya; I was just leaving.” He smirked, opening the car door and disappearing out into the street. I sat frozen in the car, my hand still clutching at the door handle as I stared at the seat he had just vacated.
I felt like my body was on lockdown. It couldn’t process what had just happened. This was too much.
Suddenly, the door beside me was flung open. My heart leaped from my chest when I nearly toppled out.
“Freya?” Liam shouted, quickly pulling me from the car and wrapping me tightly in his arms. “What the hell happened?” I couldn’t even bring myself to answer him as my body trembled. I didn’t even realize I was crying until I pulled back to see a damp spot on his shirt.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, not even certain of what I was apologizing for. Liam quickly bent down and held my face tightly in both of his hands, his eyes stari
ng intently into mine.
“Don’t you apologize, Freya. This was my fault, not yours. Do you understand me?” I stared at the fierceness in his look for a moment before I nodded my head and buried my face in his shirt.
“Mr. Henderson,” came Daryl’s familiar voice. “We need to go before people begin to recognize you.”
“We’re going back to the hotel, Daryl,” he answered, wrapping his arm tightly around my waist. I was glad for his strength as he led me to another black SUV.
“Wha-what about your concert?” I stuttered as Liam helped me into the leather seats.
“I’m not taking you there now, Freya.”
“But I want to watch the show,” I frowned, allowing Liam to strap me in. My hands were trembling too violently to manage it myself.
“There is no show Freya, not anymore.”
“What?” I demanded. “You can’t cancel it; all those people will be so disappointed.”
“Freya, you were basically kidnapped, and you want me to walk out on stage and perform for a bunch of strangers?”
“I’m fine, nothing bad happened. I think he just wanted to show me he was here.”
“What? Who?” Liam demanded as the car pulled away from the curb. “You know who it was?”
“Umm…”
“Who is here, Frey?”
“The guy from New York,” I answered softly.
“The stalker? I knew he would follow us here,” Liam muttered angrily to himself. “Daryl.”
“I’m on it sir; I’ll contact the Amsterdam police and have them send someone over.”
“Liam, that isn’t necessary. We aren’t even going to be here that long,” I tried to dismiss, but Liam was having none of it.
“Freya, this is serious. This man has tried to kidnap you, and he did it right under the nose of my own security team.” I saw Daryl and Martin shift uncomfortably and I felt bad for them.
“Liam, it’s not their fault.”
“No, Miss Freya, we should have prevented this. This man should have never had the chance to get so close to you, let alone kidnap you. I promise you we will not allow this to happen again.”
“I know you won’t, Daryl.” I glanced over at Liam just as he started to call someone on his phone. “Who are you calling?” I frowned.
“Wyatt. I need to get him to announce the concert is canceled.”
“Liam, no,” I pleaded, shaking my head emphatically. “You don’t need to do that; we can still go. You need to perform. Otherwise, your fans will start to turn on you.”
“I told you, Freya. Your safety is my priority.”
“Liam, you’ve already canceled seven concerts in the last two weeks, you can’t cancel another one.”
“Freya,” he groaned.
“No, you’re not doing this. Martin?” I called out, and Martin looked back at me expectantly through the rearview mirror. “Take us to the venue; we have a concert to get to.”
“Sir?” Martin asked, looking to Liam for confirmation, and I eyed him defiantly until he finally sighed in defeat.
“Fine Martin, take us to the Ziggo Dome,” he frowned, shaking his head. “Apparently, I have a concert to perform.”
“Of course, sir,” Martin replied, and I couldn’t help but notice the smirk on Martin’s face.
“Don’t think that this is forgotten Freya,” Liam warned. "We’ll deal with this man first thing tomorrow.”
“I know,” I answered, scrunching up my face in annoyance.
“Don’t make that face,” he chuckled, leaning over and brushing his lips against mine. “This is serious.”
“I know,” I sighed, looking down at my now steady hands.
“Come here,” he muttered, reaching out and unbuckling me so I could move over and lean against his side. “We’re going to sort this out. Everything is going to work out in the end.”
* * *
“You’re late,” was the first thing Wyatt said as we walked into the backstage area of the concert arena. I could instantly feel my frustration begin to build just from the sight of him.
“There was an incident,” Liam answered flatly and immediately, Wyatt’s eyes settled on me.
“It involves you, I assume,” he stated disapprovingly.
“Watch yourself, Wyatt,” Liam warned as he gripped my hand tighter and started to move down the corridor. After a moment of hesitation, I heard Wyatt’s footsteps as he hurried to keep up.
“You’re going to have to rush through sound check if we want to get it done and get the audience in on time. Your bipolar stylist is in your room, ready to prep you for the show. He’s been losing his marbles over how much time he has to dress you. The rest of the band is impatient with your lack of dedication to your show.”
“Keep your opinions to yourself, Wyatt. I have plenty of time.” Wyatt let out a frustrated sigh before disappearing back up the corridor. Then it was just Liam and me alone with our ever-present shadows. Daryl and Martin would probably never be more than a meter away from us again.
“He’s in a wonderful mood,” I observed.
“He’s testing my patience,” Liam grumbled, turning down another corridor before stopping at the door with his name taped to it.
“I apologize in advance for…everything after this point,” he sighed, pushing the door open. The first thing I saw was a flash of paisley, and then there was no stopping him.
“Liam Henderson, my heart can’t take this,” Ryan cried, clutching his heart tightly. I felt a smile spread across my face as I recognized Liam’s eccentric stylist.
“Calm down, Ryan,” Liam answered flatly.
“Freya,” he shouted, startling me slightly as he focused his attention on me. “Oh, thank goodness you are okay. You had me worried sick, and this guy wouldn’t tell me anything before he disappeared.”
“Ryan, aren’t we in a rush?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Ryan tittered, rushing around the room in a frenzy as Liam and I moved in, closely followed by Daryl and Martin, who shut the door and stood guard beside it. I knew there were also two more outside, stopping anyone from getting in.
“I love that I have something to look at while I work,” Ryan swooned, whispering in my ear so Daryl and Martin couldn’t hear. I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of me. Even after everything I had been through today, I was glad that something could still make me laugh and make my chest a little lighter.
It was also amusing to see Daryl and Martin blush until the stylist’s appraisal.
“Ryan,” Liam said impatiently, and Ryan quickly moved into action again.
“Of course rock star, I have a lot of work to do to get you ready for your big show. No time for such nonsense. Can’t blame a man for looking, though,” he winked at me, and I broke out into a fit of laughter as Liam rolled his eyes at his enthusiastic stylist. Tonight was going to be entertaining.
Chapter 36: Backstage Pass
“Do not smudge my masterpiece, superstar,” Ryan warned as he bustled out the door. He took one last look at the men who still stood by it, and I could have sworn I heard him sigh as he left.
“I need a drink,” Liam breathed, falling back against the plush couch in the room. I shifted uncomfortably where I had perched myself on one of the counters. The mirrors behind me were lit with an excess amount of lights and the counter had, moments before, been covered with all of Ryan’s tools. Now, all that remained was a light dusting of powder.
I had barely been able to dodge the chaos. I only just managed to duck out of the way of Ryan’s brushes as he had painted Liam with things I would never know the name of. He was extremely focused.
“How long until the show starts?” I asked as Liam got up and poured himself something from the fully stocked bar.
“Just over an hour. The stage manager will be here in a minute,” and not two seconds later, the door burst open to reveal a man complete with headset, plaid shirt, and clipboard.
“Mr. Henderson, you were due on stage thirty minutes ago,” he barked, not even looking up from his tablet. Liam quickly knocked back his drink and walked over to the man. He was ready to leave before he stopped suddenly, seeming to remember something.
“Freya?” he prompted, looking back at me expectantly, and I realized I was meant to follow.
“Oh, sorry,” I mumbled, jumping down from the bench and quickly moving to his side. As soon as I was close, Liam was moving quickly down the long white corridor after the man in plaid. I almost had to jog to keep up, but Liam wasn’t paying me any attention. He was focused on listening to all the technical talk from the stage manager.
When we reached what I assumed was the backstage area, I was overwhelmed by the movement of all the people and lights and wires. I had to jump out of the way several times as I tried to keep up with Liam.
At one point, Martin had to lift me up and out of the way when I didn’t notice someone wheeling a large set of drums, followed by a very anxious looking Harri. She was close behind the stagehand, shouting orders, not sparing anyone else a glance.
“Thanks, Martin,” I muttered as he placed me back on the ground. I had long since lost track of Liam and had positioned myself on the edge of the madness, trying to keep as far from trouble as possible.
Then I heard his voice. Apparently, trouble had no problem finding me.
“Hey sweetheart.” Chills ran down my spine as Jebediah casually walked past me, giving me a wink. Instinctively, I moved closer to Daryl and clutched his hand tightly, feeling his worried eyes fall to me but keeping my own firmly on Jebediah as he made his way to the stage. One of the stagehands handed him a guitar as he passed by.
“Miss Freya?” Daryl prompted, and I was finally able to pull my attention away from Jebediah as he joked with the other band members. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I answered quickly, and he eyed me skeptically. “Maybe just a little hungry,” I tried to cover, but it didn’t seem to convince him of anything.
“You’re holding on pretty tight there, Miss,” Daryl noted, motioning to my hand clenched around his and despite my embarrassment, I still wasn’t able to let go yet. The memories were too fresh, and I couldn’t face him on my own.
