I'm with the Band

by Melanie Brown

  “I never said that!” I sputtered. “How can they print that?”

  I scanned the article, catching a few sentences here and there. One paragraph stated that an appearance of Tommy in Nashville Tennessee this week had been canceled because of the ‘scandal’. The story continued with a quote by Tommy about the cancellation, “If it hadn’t been for Grayson, I’d be in Tennessee.” I started thinking of Tommy’s career going down the toilet, and it was all my fault! Cancel that, I thought. Stop thinking like a girl! He came on to me, not the other way around! Still, I didn’t say these words to any reporter.

  I slammed the paper down and announced, “Well, as soon as we’re through with lunch, I’m marching right over to their office and give them a piece of my mind!”

  Chad laughed and said, “It’s going to be a long march. Their office is in New York.”

  I settled back into my chair and said, “Well, I’ll go see Mr. Winters. He has lawyers and stuff. He’ll know what to do.”

  Chad shook his head. “Maybe Old Man Winters wants all this publicity. After all, everyone is now talking about you and Tommy.”

  “It’s not good publicity!” I said.

  “So? Publicity is publicity,” Chad said. “It’s not like he killed someone or dangled a baby out a window. He only tried to do what half the guys in the country want to do with you.”

  What a ghastly thought!

  Chad finished off his slice of pizza and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Well, I need to get back to the studio.” He fumbled around in his pocket for a moment, and then pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. He said, “I’d like to see you again sometime, if you want to. Can I have your phone number so I can call you?”

  He pushed the pen and paper towards me. I put my still almost pristine slice of pizza down and picked up the pen. I couldn’t believe it! Chad wanted my phone number. Wait ‘til Kayla hears about this! I stared at the pen a moment while I asked myself if I really wanted Chad to have my phone number. I looked up from the pen and into Chad’s face. Oh, yeah. I wanted him to call me. I quickly wrote my number down and slid the paper and pen back to him.

  * * *

  Hal Winters’ secretary pushed the intercom button and said, “There’s a Michelle Grayson here to see you, Mr. Winters.”

  There was a pause for a moment before a tinny sounding Mr. Winters voice said, “I have a few moments. Please send her in.”

  The secretary nodded towards the door. I walked around her desk and opened the door, and then entered Mr. Winters’ office.

  As I entered, Mr. Winters looked up from his desk and stood. He gestured towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Please, Ms. Grayson. Have a seat.”

  I sat in the proffered chair crossing my legs at the ankles under the chair. Mr. Winters returned his gaze to some papers on his desk as he sat down.

  Finally, he looked up at me and asked, “So, Ms. Grayson. To what do I owe this pleasure? Are you enjoying seeing Tommy’s career destroyed?”

  My face reddened and I squirmed a little in my chair. I said, “I… I really don’t think I… um… well, you know, destroyed Tommy’s career. It might take a hit, but I don’t think it’ll be down long, but that is one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Oh? And what would you like to say? That maybe you’re now pregnant with Tommy’s child?” asked Mr. Winters as he leaned back in his plush, executive chair.

  I ignored his snippy comment as I opened my purse and pulled out a folded, wrinkled piece of paper. I’d just taken the first page of the paper Chad bought. I handed it to Mr. Winters.

  “I… I just wanted to let you know that I didn’t… I… well… say those things. I don’t know where they got that. I was hoping that you had some lawyers or something to threaten them about this lie,” I said as Mr. Winters studied the paper.

  Mr. Winters looked at me over the top of the page. He said, “Are you sure you didn’t say these things? I seem to remember you and Ms. Gray being quite upset about this.”

  Frowning, I said, “I didn’t talk to any reporters. I can’t help it if someone followed us around and took pictures.”

  Mr. Winters touched the tips of his fingers together as he stared intently at me. He said, “Knowing how this paper operates, I have to say I believe you, but generally, it’s not cost effective to sue them. Besides, it’s gotten you in the entertainment news. You’d be surprised who is talking about you. The phone has been ringing off the wall from the media, people and companies wanting access to you. Tommy has been getting some bad press, but you’re right. It’ll mostly blow over, probably before the weekend. I do need something from you though, to make sure that happens.”

  Hesitantly, I asked, “Like what?”

  Mr. Winters leaned forward and said, “I’m going to call a press conference for tomorrow morning. I want you to publicly deny that you were raped or attacked and that you and Tommy just had a misunderstanding.”

  “Mr. Winters,” I said, trying to sound stern. “Tommy did try to have sex with me. It wasn’t just a misunderstanding!”

  “You have to diffuse the situation,”Mr. Winters said as he stood up behind his desk. “Tommy has apologized publicly for his lack of judgment.”

  “He hasn’t apologized to me.”

  Mr. Winters walked to front of his desk, and then leaned against it facing me. “That can be arranged.”

  I stood up, feeling my anger build as I said, “I don’t want his apology arranged! I want it to be sincere!”

  Mr. Winters folded his arms across his chest. Harshly, he said, “Well, Michael. If Tommy was really intent on having his way with you, we’d be having a completely different problem on our hands. If you know what I mean.”

  True. If Tommy had gotten my panties off, I guess I’d have to be apologizing to him for being such a big fake and leading him on. And kissing him…

  With some wind taken out of my sails, I said, “Okay, Mr. Winters. You win. I’ll do the press conference. But I want Tommy to apologize. Regardless of everything else, he shouldn’t have tried to have sex with me. I’m only fourteen for God’s sake!”

  Mr. Winters relaxed a little and said, “Done. I’ll be glad when all this is behind us. Now, what was the other thing you wanted to ask me about?”

  I sat back down in the chair and I felt my face redden. Speaking suddenly became difficult. “I… well… you see… I…”

  Mr. Winters frowned and said, “I’m not trying to be rude, but I am pretty busy.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I… I want to know if you… if you were, uh, serious about what you said the other day?”

  Mr. Winters folded his arms again and said, “I say a lot of things, young lady. And I’m always serious. Can you be a bit more specific?”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I was wondering if you really meant what you said about… uhhh… about… about me getting a sex change?”

  Looking surprised, Mr. Winters said, “Uh, well, actually yes. I thought you’d spend more than a couple of days considering it. What do you think about that?”

  I looked at the floor, and I suddenly felt sick just thinking about doing something crazy like that. I said, “Well, I’ll never really be fully a man, even with HRT. And lately, being a girl just feels so… well… normal to me. Right now it’s fun, but I’m not sure if it will be fun six months from now. I want to know what you really think the future has to offer me.”

  Instead of sitting behind his desk, Mr. Winters hesitated a moment, looking thoughtful. He then sat down in the empty chair next to me and rolled it closer. He tapped his fingers to his lips a few times before speaking. He said, “Michelle, in all honesty, I have to say that I truly believe that you possess that rare mix of talent, looks and personality that will propel you right to the top and keep you there for years. There’s no doubt the camera loves you. Tampax has told me that since your campaign started, they’ve seen an almost fifteen percent growth
in sales. They want to shoot more commercials. I’ve got companies that make everything from soft drinks to shoes wanting to use your image in their advertising.

  “And let’s talk about music. While your brother’s band is outperforming the studios expectations, most of the calls for interviews are aimed just at you. Since we’re promoting the band, I’ve been turning down most of those requests. However, coming up on your schedule are teen award shows, both as a nominee and presenter. It’s all but assured that you will get nominated for best new country female vocal and your song will be nominated for best country song. The Japanese can’t get enough of you.

  “And most surprising is all the interest from movie producers. You haven’t been famous all that long; yet those producers are calling.

  “And lastly, I think you’ve got staying power. Long after you stop being a teen idol, I think you’ll continue on with adult audiences and I see you doing more movies. Does that cover it?”

  “Snap!” I breathed. “Are you serious? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

  Nodding, Mr. Winters said, “I’m very serious. I really do believe that a young girl called Michelle Grayson is going to be a huge star.”

  My head was spinning. John would shit bricks and his brain would explode if he heard what Mr. Winters said. That would be so sweet. Okay, it’d actually be kinda gross and messy… but still!

  “I… I don’t know what to say, Mr. Winters.” I said. “I’m very flattered and…”

  Interrupting, Mr. Winters said with annoyance in his voice, “Miss Grayson, I don’t waste time flattering teen girls. I think you have potential and I’m here to help you achieve that potential. Having said that, I urge you to spend a little more time considering this sex change thing. If it’s right for you, then I think I can help you to greater success. If it’s not right, then no amount of success will end your misery.”

  “Thanks Mr. Winters. I’ll give it a lot of serious thought.”

  “Good,” said Mr. Winters, “I know a therapist in Canada who can help you with your self-evaluation. Now, I have a thousand things to do. I’ll see you here tomorrow about nine. Wear a dress, make-up and all that and make sure your hair looks nice. This is a public appearance and you’re representing the studio.”

  

  * * *

  “Oh, God!” gagged John. “Just look at this!” He waved a magazine in the air for a moment. My picture – a close-up – was taking up a full page. The facing page contained the ad copy and a picture of a couple of bottles of foundation.

  Stifling a laugh, John continued in a mocking tone, “‘Michelle is wearing make-up for normal/dry skin in natural beige.’ If someone had told me a year ago I’d be seeing my brother’s picture in a magazine selling make-up...” His voice trailed away as he shook his head.

  John was over at Mom’s and my house for dinner. He sat on the couch looking through some magazines. I didn’t realize it until John started making comments about my appearances in the magazines that almost every magazine we had in the house was for teen girls or women.

  As Mom was laying out the plates on the dinner table, she said, “Now John, you know that’s all part of her job now. Because she has that fresh, girl-next-door look, she’s in big demand.”

  Picking up a teen magazine, John said, “Yeah, whatever, Mom.” He thumbed through a few pages and started laughing again. “Oh man, here he is giving beauty advice! And... and... advice on boys?! I can’t believe it!”

  I snatched the magazine from John’s hands and looked at the page he’d been reading. I said, “I didn’t write this. Mr. Winters had this sent to the magazine. They were going to want me to start a monthly advice column until... until my break-up with Tommy.”

  John looked over at Mom and said, “And you know what really pisses me off? Just about every guy me and the other guys run into always asks us stuff about Michelle.”

  I sat down at the table and smiling at John asked, “Oh? What kind of stuff?”

  John frowned and asked, “Why would you care? They’re guys.”

  Exasperated I said, “Because I’m a girl!”

  Shaking his head, John said, “No you’re not. You’re my little dick-head brother.”

  Mom slapped the tabletop and said sternly, “John!”

  John slouched back into his chair and said, “Sorry, Mom. But still... it’s true! It doesn’t matter how much make-up he wears, or tampons he buys, he’s still Michael!”

  “I’m a girl!”

  Mom looked at the ceiling briefly and then said, “John, will you please stop this? You have to stop calling Michelle ‘Michael’ or ‘your little brother’ and so on. If you don’t get to where you refer to her automatically as a girl, you’re very likely to accidentally say something you shouldn’t when in front of fans or the media, and that would be the end, wouldn’t it?”

  John held up his hands and cried out, “Okay! Okay! I surrender! Michelle, you’re a girl. There!”

  John took a few bites of dinner and said, “I just don’t understand how you switched to liking guys so quickly. It ain’t natural.”

  I swallowed the bite of dinner I was working on and then answered, “I don’t completely understand it myself, but some of it I’m sure is due to the indoctrination I got at the hands of Kayla and also because... it, well, to me it feels so... natural.”

  Seemingly oblivious to my comments, John scarfed down the dinner from his plate and then lifted the plate in an obvious gesture to have it refilled. He said, “This is really good, Mom. I’m going to have to get one of your Tupperware things to take some back to my pad.”

  “Thank you,” I said simply.

  John looked annoyed at me and said, “I was talking to Mom, not you, Freak.”

  “I made dinner tonight, John. Mom only helped a little.” I said, with a touch of pride in my voice.

  John looked genuinely surprised. He said, “Really? I’m surprised. It’s really very good. You’ll make someone a really great wife.”

  I thought about that a minute... me, walking down the aisle in a long, white flowing gown... I think I’ve really lost my mind.

  Suddenly, the phone rang. Mom got up to answer it. She called out, “Michelle, it’s for you.” She shrugged and said, “It’s some boy, but I don’t know who.”

  Mom handed me the handset and I said, “Hello?”

  “Hey, Michelle! It’s me. Chad,” said the voice on the other end of the line.

  I felt my face begin to flush. I said, “Chad! Hey! You called.”

  Chad chuckled and said, “I said I would. Thanks for coming to lunch with me. I enjoyed getting to know you a little better.”

  I wandered away from the dinner table and the questioning glances from both Mom and John. Sitting on our brand new leather couch, I said, “Me too! Thanks for inviting me! I enjoyed it.”

  Chad said, “I can’t talk long. I’m meeting some friends here in a few minutes. I just wanted to ask you if you’d be interested in coming with me to Julia Briggs’ big party this Saturday?”

  Julia Briggs was that really weird chick with the hottest bod in Hollywood. I’d heard some strange things about her parties. I wondered if I should go or not. Julia scared me a little. Okay, maybe a lot. But then, Chad would be there to protect me.

  I said, “I’d better check with my mom first.”

  Chad said, with a touch of annoyance in his voice, “Oh, okay. I keep forgetting you’re several years younger than me.”

  “Okay, hold on,” I said. To Mom I said, “Chad Dumont has invited me to go to Julia Briggs’ party this Saturday? Can I?”

  Mom looked at me with a shrug. She said, “Chad who? And I don’t like that Julia Briggs.”

  John just looked at me wide-eyed. “Are you shittin’ us? Chad Dumont... the Chad Dumont is asking you out on a date? I don’t freakin’ believe it!”

  I looked back at Mom and said, “Well, he’s waiting for an answer.”

  Mom asked, “Do you know who all i
s going to be there?”

  “No.”

  Mom frowned and said, “Can you ask him?”

  Into the phone, I said, “Do you know who all is going to be there?”

  Chad sighed, “Just the usual list of Julia’s friends. Mostly other celebrities like moi...” He then rattled off names of various actors and punk rockers and other celebrities with less than stellar reputations. Some of them actually scared me. Chad completed his comment by saying, “And Tommy Kincaid is definitely not invited.”

  Well, that settled it for me...

  To Mom I said, “It’s just a bunch of other celebs, Mom.”

  Mom continued to hesitate. She asked, “How old is this Chad guy?”

  I shrugged. “Just a little older than me,” I lied.

  Mom said, “That’s good. I think Tommy was probably a little too old for you.” I guess I shouldn’t tell Mom that Chad is a year older than Tommy...

  To Chad I said, “Yeah, I can go. Just tell me when you’ll be here.”

  * * *

  I couldn’t believe it. There were a ton of reporters there. I thought only a few would show up for the press conference where I was going to apologize for Tommy trying to rape me. A large crowd of people armed with a variety of cameras and bristling with microphones sat in front of a podium on a small stage in the pressroom of the studio.

  Per instructions from Mr. Winters, I was wearing a dress — a very pretty and feminine summer dress with a bright floral print. To go with the pink in the print, I wore pink sandals with three-inch heels. I started to feel that I might have over done the pink when I thought about my pink nails, pink lipstick and pink earrings.

  “Are you sure you have all the points on this sheet down?”Mr. Winters asked as he waved a sheet of paper in front of me. Instead of memorizing a prepared statement, he wanted me to memorize specific points instead and say them in my own words so I would sound like I was speaking from the heart, not from a prepared statement.

  “For the third time yes, Mr. Winters.” I said, getting a little flustered. “I’m just nervous about going out there in front of those reporters.”