by R H Tucker
“I always get a slice of lime on the side.” Danica scowls at her.
“Easy, Dani,” I chuckle, hoping to defuse the situation. The waitress looks back at me, obviously distressed, and I offer her a friendly smile. “Sorry, she gets grumpy when she’s hungry. Would you mind?”
Danica scoffs. The waitress smiles and leaves. “I thought you were the King of Hearts, and your brother was the King of Nice,” she tells me.
“I just wasn’t being rude.” I chuckle. “You should try it sometime; you might like it.”
She scoffs again. “I’m not rude. I just know what I want.” Returning her attention to check her phone, I gaze at my glass of water. Every time I’m with her, I wonder the same thing: how and why did I agree to this?
Peter is Jade and Maddox’s uncle and has been our manager since the band got together. We went through a couple of assistants, and it didn’t really work out, so Peter pulls double duty for us as an assistant as well. He’s like family to me and EJ, so it’s a very relaxed and easygoing feeling around him, but he definitely knows his stuff. When Danica’s people brought this to Peter, he wasn’t totally on board. But he knew of the cross-over appeal it could have. Not only being with Danica but being on her show as well. That’s why I agreed, but some days it feels like it’s more hassle than it’s worth.
I prefer being with my band. My family. It may sound cliché, but that’s what we are. Besides me and EJ, Jade and Maddox are maternal twins, and we’ve known them since middle school. Ever since we formed this band, all four of us have been close. Maddox is the crazy one, Jade is the little sister, EJ is the shy one—something he hates when people tell him—and I’m the older brother, even if it’s only by a few months. We’ve recorded two hit records, won awards, been on magazine covers, and everything in between. But we’ve done it together, and none of it has felt like work.
This? Making appearances with Danica and getting ready to film stuff for her television show? It feels like work.
“So sorry,” our waitress says, returning and putting a small plate down with the lime slices. “Here you go. Anything else I can get for you, Ms. Parker?”
“No,” Danica answers her with a full mouth of food already, waving her away with her fingers.
The waitress doesn’t seem fazed now. I’m sure, as hot as this spot is in the city, she’s used to big stars coming in. Not everyone in showbiz is rude, but I’ve been around long enough to know there are quite a few who are. The ones who make the “Hollywood big shot” characteristic more than a cliché.
She turns to leave, and I see her name tag. “Jessica? That’s a great name.”
“Thank you.” She blushes again. “Are you sure we can’t get you anything, Mr. Tyler?”
I wave her off, smiling. “No, I’m good. And please, call me Derrik. Mr. Tyler is my dad.”
The pinkish hue on her face turns crimson, and I flash another grin. “Okay.” She dashes away, and I turn back to see Danica leering at me with not so much of an evil grin, but definitely naughty.
“You and your charm,” she hisses. “That’s why you’re the King of Hearts, you know?”
“It’s just Johnny’s nickname.”
“Sure it is.” Lifting her fork, she leans over the table. “You have to try this.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Derrik.” She pouts, jutting out her bottom lip.
“Fine, whatever.”
I’m acutely aware of what she’s doing. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the paparazzi still with their cameras up, taking pictures through the window at our table. She always makes sure to get us a table with a view, not so much so she can see out, but so others can see in. Because she’s always able to get us the perfect seat, I’m not totally unconvinced she isn’t into voyeurism. But I’m not in a hurry to find out any time soon.
Feeding me the bite, she pulls the fork away slow, and I chew the food, trying to grin at the scene she’s put on display. Taking the fork back, she holds it up in an obvious alluring movement, licking the prongs.
“Delicious, isn’t it?”
I nod, still chewing. “Yep. Not bad.”
She points the fork at me. “I’m going to get you, Derrik Tyler. I will become the queen of the King of Hearts.”
Laughing at the line, I shake my head. It’s not the first time she’s said it. “Just eat your food, sweetie. We’ve got more than enough time to play your games when I’m on set with you.”
Biting the fork, she narrows her eyes, then lays a wide grin on me. “Yes, we do.”
4
Zoey
Walking backstage at the historic Forum arena is hectic. Derrik had to meet up with the rest of the band, so I’m with Becca, who pleaded with her parents to accompany me for the week instead of hanging out in Huntington Beach. A gaggle of girls scream behind us, and we both turn around, seeing an enormous security guard blocking a doorway where the girls try to look for any glimpse of the band.
“This is insane,” Becca says, letting out a chuckle. “Remember in sixth grade, Derrik and EJ got suspended for toilet papering the Arthur Carter statue in front of our middle school?”
The memory bubbles up, making me laugh. “I do remember that! I think their parents grounded them for a month.”
“And now look at them.” She points over to the screaming girls. “So, have you told him?”
I frown. I was wondering how long it would take for her to bring it up. “No, and I’m not going to.”
“Z, he’s obviously still into you. Why else would he have invited you to join them? He knows what’s next. We graduate, and he’ll miss his shot forever.”
“Shut up.” I giggle, shaking my head.
I don’t want to think that. We had our chance, and not that it wasn’t great, but our lives are going in separate directions. Both great directions, but different, nonetheless.
“He’s not into me,” I tell her, unsure if I’m trying to convince her or myself. “And anyway, look around.” I wave my hand, glancing back at the doorway where the girls are still shouting for the band. “This is his life, Becca. Screaming, adoring, probably a little psychotic, fans.” I grin. “I want that for him. I’ll be going to OCU in the fall, and I couldn’t be happier about it.”
“Right?” she scoffs.
“I’m serious, I couldn’t.”
Ocean Crest University is my destination come August. I actually just found out I received the scholarship a few weeks ago. It’s one of the more prestigious universities in California. It has an incredible graphic design program, which is what I’m going for.
“Since I know you’ll argue with me anyway, I won’t try to counter you right now,” she says as we continue down the hallway backstage. “But are we seriously not going to talk about the elephant in the room? The arrogant, stuck-up, flaunting her money—and lord knows her pretentious style—in front of everyone’s face, elephant in the room. That being one Danica Parker.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t even, Becs. Derrik would never in a million years seriously go out with her. I know it’s all an act.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, “that doesn’t mean she’d like nothing more than to make that work of fiction into a real-life documentary.”
“He’s too good for her. She can’t see it because she’s used to getting whatever she wants, but he is. That encounter with her last night was the first time I ever met her, but she’s so stuck up. Derrik would never really get with her. He’s too nice.”
“He’s lucky Johnny didn’t give him the King of Nice nickname.”
We both start laughing, heading to one of the dressing rooms. As we go inside, people are calling out to other stagehands and workers, letting the VIPs into their section, and informing others what needs to be finished with the stage lighting. It’s a madhouse. All day I’ve been taking everything in. I’ve been to concerts before, and a number of their shows, like last night at Johnny’s, but I’ve never been backstage. It’s surreal. And while it’s all very
impressive how many people it actually takes to make everything run smooth, it does take a bit of the magic away.
I’m used to seeing the stage from the fan side, the lights sparkling from above. It’s almost mystical watching the band perform their magic. And what they do is magic. I don’t think they would’ve exploded as they have if it wasn’t.
“Hey!” Jade squees, running into the room.
She’s already dressed in her attire for the show; skinny black jeans ripped from her ankles all the way up to under her butt. She likes to wear a plain tank top on stage because she says it gets hot after a while. Today it’s purple. Her dirty blonde hair is pulled back with braids on each side of her head. With black and red bracelets covering her wrists—almost up to her elbow—and heavy eyeshadow, she looks like a rock star through-and-through.
When they first started playing, she’d get so annoyed when people hesitated on what to call them. With three guys and a girl, she always felt singled out. Finally, one day on social media, she asked for every King’s Court member to repost a picture. It was a picture of her licking her bass guitar, standing next to Derrik, EJ, and Maddox, flipping off the camera. Its caption? I may be the Queen, but I’m just one of the guys. Screw your standards. It went viral. Since then, I never hesitate to just call the band the boys or the guys.
She wraps her arms around me. “I can’t tell you how stoked I am that you two will be with us for these last dates. Trust me, this entire tour Derrik and EJ had to hold me back on more than one occasion of strangling my brother.”
Both Becca and I start laughing. “No problem. Are you nervous?”
“Naw.” She waves me off. “After all the shows we’ve been on, most of the nerves have long since faded.”
“Have you written any new stuff?” Becca asks.
“Yeah, we’re hoping to get into the studio later this year, but …” She pauses, biting her lips, slightly nervous. It’s a different look for Jade. She’s always so confident. “I …” She glances behind her at the closed door. “Okay, don’t say anything. I still want to talk it over with the guys, though I think they’ll be fine with it. But I … I have a couple songs I want to try myself.”
“Jade, that’s amazing! A solo album?”
“No, no.” She shakes her head. “As much as my boyfriend wants me to do that, and his management team keeps trying to get me to sign with them, I don’t want to leave the Kings. You guys are my family.”
Her words make me smile. Whenever any of us have talked about the band, or close-knit friends like Becca and me, we always refer to each other as a whole. It’s nice Jade still thinks of me that way.
“Not a solo album,” she repeats. “I just want to record some stuff, you know? Some of it doesn’t really fit with the Kings.”
“Aw.” I lean over, giving her another hug. “I’m sure they’ll be totally fine with it. And I want to hear it, whenever you’re ready to share.”
“Totally!” She grins widely. “Anyway, you’re riding with us on the bus, right?”
“Oh.” I glance over at Becca, who lifts her shoulders. “Um, I hadn’t thought about it.” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the complete lack of planning. “Jeez, I just showed up here, and I didn’t even think about how we were going to get to all the dates.”
Jade starts laughing. “So, then, you haven’t spoken to Derrik today?”
“No, why?”
Becca and I exchange glances, while Jade delivers a half-mischievous, half-embarrassed grin at me. “He told everyone on the bus that you’re getting the main cabin.”
“Oh my God.” I bring my hand to my face, feeling it go flush. “He didn’t?”
“He did.” She laughs again.
My gaze finally meets hers again. “Jade, I can’t do that. Who normally gets it? I can’t take your sleeping spots!”
“Girl, have you seen our tour bus? It’s bigger than a house. And the main bedroom is always shared. We take turns on who gets it. We’ve got more than enough bunks to go around.”
“Jade, no. I can’t take—”
“Jade, time to go,” Peter shouts, breaking into our room. “Oh, hey, Zoey. Becca.” He waves at us. “Jade, time for warm-up.”
“Be right there,” Jade calls back, and Peter leaves.
Peter is Jade and Maddox’s uncle. I think he’s in his late forties and has a round frame and face. He even has round hands, wearing gold bracelets on each of his wrists. And his dirty blond mustache matches his short hair. He’s been with the band from the beginning. Ever since they first put together their bootleg, garage band CD.
When they first came together, everyone was worried about who could help and not swindle them. Everyone’s heard about the horror stories of bands being taken advantage of. Being promised riches and glory, only to end up with pennies to their name while their managers scammed everything else away from them.
However, Jade and Maddox’s parents are high-end realty brokers. Peter is their dad’s brother and has been working in the music industry for twenty years. He immediately signed them as clients when they started gaining some local fame, and at first, he was only their manager. Eventually, he took a more hands-on role, and also works as their assistant, or guiding hand if you will. He books their events and makes sure they stay on schedule.
EJ told me once that Peter has other clients, so he found some great assistants to work with the band, but none of them worked out. Last year, when they first started on this world tour, they actually rebelled.
They didn’t like the strict regimen that she set for them and told Peter they wanted him to run things for them. He was able to shift a few things around in his company and has taken over basically as their handler. Everyone knows the only reason he’s doing it is that not only are Jade and Maddox family, but EJ and Derrik have become like family to him, too.
He makes sure they meet their guest spots, are on time for sound checks, and sets things up for other media appearances. I say he’s like the fun uncle because while he has to put the band—mostly Maddox—in check from time to time, he usually lets them do whatever they want to do. They are all pretty responsible for our ages—again, besides Maddox.
“Gotta go,” she says, giving my hand a squeeze. “And there’s no arguing. You know Derrik, he’ll tie you to the bed if you try to fight him on this.”
“Oh, she’d love that,” Becca snarks, and I snap my head around to face her, scowling. “Hey, does that mean I have to get a bunk?”
Jade shrugs. “Probably not. Derrik’s made it extremely clear. The main cabin is Zoey’s, and she can do with it what she wants.”
I keep a death stare on Becca. “In that case, I’ll be sleeping in it all by myself after that comment.”
Becca juts out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.
“Okay, see you guys out there.”
Jade leaves, and I turn to face Becca. My embarrassing frustration over, both of our eyes widen. Then we start jumping up and down in excitement.
“Ohmygodohmygodohymgod,” she shouts. “This is amazing!”
“But is it weird?” I ask, still with a huge grin. “I mean, I feel like I’m about to be Yoko.”
“Shut up!” She slaps my arm. “First of all, you know Derrik loves you.”
“Becca—”
“And secondly, the rest of them love you, too. You’re not Yoko. And you’re sharing that bed with me, I don’t care what you say!”
We both start laughing, and I head back to the door. “Fine. Come on, let’s go get to our spots in front of the stage. I want to see JC’s opening act.”
“Oh, yeah,” she agrees, wiggling her eyebrows. “That guy is hot!”
JC Lopez is an up-and-coming pop star, opening for all of the Kings of Karmichael shows. Laughing again, we exit the room, and as we turn to head toward the VIP front section, we bump directly into Danica.
“Seriously,” she scoffs, keeping her gaze locked on her Starbucks cup in her hand.
“Oh, sorry,” I
apologize before the recognition of who it is hits.
Looking over at me, she stares at me like I’m below her. “Oh, it’s you. Derrik’s friend.”
“Uh …” I’m insulted but unsure about how to act in this scenario. It is Danica Parker. She’s a star. “Right. It’s Zoey, actually. And this is my friend, Be—”
“Whatever.” She tosses her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder. “So, Derrik hooked you two up with backstage tickets? That’s so nice of him. I tell him all the time, he’s too nice. But, since he knows you two, I guess I can see why he’d make an exception.”
I’d like to ignore her, nod, and keep moving along. As rude as her comments and attitude are, I’ve read enough news sites that talk about the diva that is Danica Parker. But instead of ignoring everything and carrying on our way, Becca interrupts.
“Hey, the King of Hearts has a heart of gold.” Becca puts an arm around me, laying her head on my shoulder. “So much so, that we’re going on tour with him for these last few dates. He’s even letting Zoey here share his bed.”
Danica’s jaw drops, a hard line across her brow.
“But don’t you worry, Ms. Parker,” Becca continues, really laying it on thick. “I’ll make sure my best friend, Zoey … you know, the girl that Derrik wrote a number one hit song about? I’ll make sure she leaves a little something for you when Derrik starts filming your show. I hope you’re okay with sloppy seconds.”
Danica’s face is furious. Her fingers clutch her coffee cup so tight, I think she might crumple it in her hand, sending the drink everywhere. I even believe her nostrils flare. Spinning on her heels, she walks away, and I pray it’s the last I’ll see of her tonight. I’m sure she has a luxury box somewhere in the arena.
Once she’s gone, and out of earshot, I snap at Becca, “Seriously?”
“Oh, please.” She waves me off as we continue on our way next to the stage. “I don’t care how rich that girl is, she deserves to be knocked down a peg or two. And you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy her reaction when she found out you’d be in Derrik’s bed.”
