by Maxene Novak
Then we realized all the questions were about Sabrina, which didn’t surprise me. Now that her legal team had started running off all the fan-made merchandise sellers online, she was once again a media focal point.
“All we’ll say about Sabrina is that she’s a great artist to work with,” I said in a stern voice. “And we’re honored to be on this tour with her. Now if you’ll let us through, we’d really like to get a late dinner.” Grabbing Jessie’s upper arm, I tugged him along with me in a fast stride across the street.
We ducked into the diner, and the paparazzi gave up, looking dejected and bored again as they returned to their vehicles.
Jessie shot me a mock pout as we found a booth to slide into. “Hey, why didn’t you want to stick around out there and answer more questions?”
“Because they were all about Sabrina. And no way would she be happy with anyone on her tour feeding those leeches insider info about her.”
A waitress handed us two menus, took our orders for sodas, then disappeared.
“I can’t believe she actually came over to your bus to hang out tonight,” Jessie said after he decided on what to order off the menu.
I kept my gaze on my menu, grunting an agreement while pretending to deliberate over a burger versus pancakes.
The waitress returned to bring our drinks and take our order.
“Think she’ll really do it again?” Jessie asked once the waitress was gone.
I shrugged. Sabrina seemed the fairly private type. But even introverts got lonely.
He stared at me for a minute then snorted. “You’re about as easy to get to know as she is.”
“Me? I’m an open book. Ask me anything.” I leaned back and crossed my arms loosely over my chest, watching him, feeling the usual post-show exhaustion start to creep over me now that the adrenaline high was wearing off. I probably should have ordered a coffee instead of a soda, but then I’d have trouble sleeping while the bus rocked and jerked around in a few hours on our way to the next stop on the tour.
“Let me guess. You’re the oldest of…three siblings to a pair of doting parents?” His eyes narrowed as he stared at me thoughtfully.
I half smiled. “Half wrong. Eighth in a line of ten. All boys. You’re mostly right about the parent part, though.”
He grunted. “Jesus. Ten boys? That’s a house full.”
“Yeah. Noise was definitely the norm. Don’t know how my mother stood it. You?”
“Only child to a pair of musicians. So…noisy, but in a different way.”
Hmm. Interesting. “They take you on gigs or leave you behind?”
“A little of both. I was homeschooled, so they tried to take me with them when they could. But I also saw a lot of my aunt’s house when there was no one on the road available to watch me.” He shrugged and smiled easily. “It worked out all right once I got older, though. Then I could just sit on stage and watch them. At least, till I learned how to play some instruments. How’d you get into the business?”
“I tried not to. An older brother told me to get my degree first, then if the singing bug wouldn’t leave me alone, at least I’d always have a degree to fall back on.”
“And did you? Get the degree, I mean?”
I made a face. “Made it halfway through my junior year till I couldn’t stand it anymore. Dropped out and started the Drakes with my college buddies.”
“And here we are,” he finished for me.
I half smiled at him for a few seconds till our food arrived and we dug in.
We ate in companionable silence, which surprised me. I was used to Rico constantly running his mouth with the rest of our band. And I’d figured for sure that Jessie would be a yapper too considering how much he seemed to love the attention wherever he could get it. But he seemed content with eating in silence, for which I was grateful. Ever since this tour had begun, it had become a rare treat to have a meal in silence, unless I wanted to nuke something in the bus microwave while the rest of the band crashed in their bunks.
Not that I was really all that annoyed by the chaos that was the Drakes. This wasn’t our first tour, and they usually settled down and started giving each other space after the first few weeks when the novelty wore off and the grind of it all set in.
Now that we were a few shows into the tour, I figured we were probably getting close to reaching that point.
We finished eating then strolled back to the buses. This time, the paparazzi stayed in their cars, apparently either too tired to care or not that interested in us, which suited me just fine.
As we started to part ways, Jessie smiled at me. “This was nice. Want to do it again sometime? Eating alone is shitty, and I think the stage crew’s gonna get tired of me begging them to eat with me all the time.”
I snorted. “Yeah, well, I don’t mind getting away from my band mates sometimes. So yeah, we’ll do this again soon.”
Jessie’s smile stretched into a broad grin. He waved and headed to his own bus. I dove into the noise and mayhem that was the Drakes’ bus, already missing the comparatively quiet diner and wondering how quickly I might talk the groupies into leaving so we could all grab a little shut eye.
***
Something was going on with Sabrina. I didn’t know if it was drugs, or exhaustion, or piss poor eating habits or what. But she was starting to show tiny hints of being off her game.
It started during a show a few nights after she first showed up at our bus to hang out. She looked uncertain on stage, still smiling, but a kind of wariness to her eyes that you could only see close up and a certain lack of confidence to her steps around the stage throughout her last couple of numbers. Then it was time for the transition duet for the Drakes’ entrance. And the closer she and I walked towards each other, the more I could see it in her eyes.
She looked…scared.
Of course, on stage in front of thousands packed into the arena with us, there was no way to ask her what was wrong. Not until we were face to face and the back-fabric panels started to slide apart to reveal the Drakes towards the end of our duet.
I lowered my mike to my side, half turned away from the audience as if watching the Drakes’ entrance. Then when she stopped singing for the instrumental section, I carefully raised a thumb on my free hand out of the audience’s sight and raised my eyebrows in question at her, silently asking if she was okay.
She gave the tiniest, solitary shake of her head and resumed singing the final lines. Leaving me even more confused.
Was the head shake supposed to mean she wasn’t okay, or that she couldn’t answer while on stage?
She walked off stage, and I was forced to focus on the Drakes’ act, relying on her team to take care of whatever was wrong.
I went to find her after the show. She was doing the usual meet and greet with a long line of fans that they’d had to set up ropes to keep corralled. Sabrina was still wearing those ridiculous heels, probably to make her tiny frame taller in all the pictures she posed with them for. She was all smiles and gratitude and love for her fans, signing so many autographs I lost count after a while as I watched from the sidelines. I knew I should be with my band doing our own meet and greet, but I’d just wanted to check on her.
She seemed okay enough, either never noticing I was there or ignoring me. So I returned to do the Drakes’ meet and greet, figuring I’d check on her later. Maybe it had just been a wardrobe issue for her…her shoes pinching her toes or threatening to break a heel. Who knew what upset chicks on stage? The Drakes was an all-male band, and this was our first tour with a female artist. So I was a bit out of my element trying to figure Sabrina out.
Jessie came over to the Drakes’ after party on our bus again, which we were all starting to half expect by now. Clearly the guy was lonely as hell as a solo act.
He came up to where I was manning the liquor stash. I thought he wanted something to drink, but he shook his head, looking surprisingly pensive. I’d begun to think all he knew how to do was smile.
“Hey, let me ask you something,” he muttered, leaning in close so we could talk under the loudly pumping sound system. “Did Sabrina seem…off to you tonight?”
My eyebrows shot up. “You noticed that too?”
“Yeah. She looked…I don’t know. Borderline freaked out or something.”
I handed Rico his requested refill of Jack Daniels, recapped the bottle, then turned to lean back against the counter while considering what Jessie said. After a minute, I shrugged. “Want to go see if she wants to come hang out with us again?”
“Yeah.”
Jessie looked hopeful, like a little kid headed over to ask a neighborhood kid to come out and play, as I followed him off the Drakes’ bus and across the twenty yards to Sabrina’s. I noticed her driver had angled her bus differently tonight, with the non-entrance side facing the street where the paparazzi were parked in the distance outside the fenced in lot. Was she trying to hide who came and went from her bus now? Interesting.
We found her bodyguard manning her door.
“Hey,” I greeted him. “Can we speak to Sabrina for a quick minute? We just wanted to see if she wanted to come hang out with the Drakes again.”
The bodyguard’s stoic expression never changed as he tapped a tablet screen. “Ma’am? I have two gentlemen here who wish to speak with you. Mr. Shane Reynolds and Mr. Jessie Quinn.”
I was impressed he’d memorized our faces and names. Then again, that was probably his job to.
Sabrina’s voice sounded weird through the tablet’s speaker as she replied, “Please tell them I’ll have to speak with them tomorrow at sound check or something.”
“Hey Sabrina?” Jessie called out towards the tablet. “We thought you might want to come hang out on the Drakes’ bus again. There’s plenty of booze and music.”
She sighed. “Sorry, guys. I’m…too tired to party tonight. I think I’ll just stay in and rest up.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, frowning. She didn’t sound right. Her voice was thick and nasally, almost like she had a cold. Or had been crying.
Suddenly I realized I knew nothing about her. Did she have a boyfriend? Maybe they were having problems?
If this was a personal issue, then it was none of my or Jessie’s business. But if she was sick, then it could affect tomorrow night’s show.
I sighed. “Sabrina, are you coming down with a cold or something? You sound different.”
“What? Oh. No, it’s not that, I just…” She sighed. “Hang on. I’ll come to the door.”
We waited by the door till it finally opened. She was barefoot and wearing one of those soft looking purple hoodie and lounge pant suits Victoria’s Secret was always advertising on T.V. Her hair was pulled up into a super messy knot on her head, and her face was makeup free.
She looked so young, her body all woman, but her clean face with its round cheeks and cupid’s bow lips swore she was still a teenager. I had to remind myself of her true age, because my instincts kept screaming out the warning that she was dangerous jail bait.
She stood on the steps inside her bus, leaning on the hand rail with one tightly gripping hand, her free hand holding onto the edge of the door. She tried to smile, but it looked dead tired. “Hey guys.”
Jessie stepped closer to the doorway. The bodyguard took a half step in his direction, but Sabrina waved off the guard. “They’re fine.” She returned her focus to us. “Sorry to be the party pooper tonight. But as you can see, I’m definitely dressed to stay in.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Jessie murmured, his expression worried. “You sounded off during the show. We were both worried about you.” He gestured in my direction.
While I appreciated his including me, I was more focused on her. Her hands trembled on the door and handrail, and her face was pale. Then again, maybe it was always this pale under her makeup?
She swallowed hard before answering. “Please don’t worry. I’ll be fine for tomorrow’s show. No need to panic that you’ll have to do it all on your own.” She smiled at the end to soften the joke, but her smile was unsteady.
I stepped closer till we were just a foot or two apart. With her on the steps, we were eye level with each other. “Were you feeling bad during our duet?”
She frowned in confusion. “Why? Did I mess up something?”
I shook my head. “But you looked…” I shrugged, not knowing which descriptive word would be most accurate. Panicked, maybe. I subtly breathed through my nose, checking the air between us for signs that she’d been drinking and finding none. I leaned in closer and murmured, “Sabrina…are you on drugs?”
She blinked at me several times, a sharp bark of humorless laughter bursting out of her, before her eyes turned the color of bitter chocolate. “You mean the illegal kind? No, I don’t use.”
Her answer struck me as odd, and I frowned. “But you are on drugs?”
Her face turned a shade whiter and her expression shut down. But her eyes widened as she licked her lips.
And I had my answer, or at least a big hint of it, without her saying another word.
Something was wrong with her. She was on meds of some kind for something. Was she struggling with a prescription drug addiction like Rico had?
Her lips parted, and she made a small gasp that would have been lost if the night around us hadn’t been so quiet.
It was the only warning I had before she started to crumble towards the steps.
“Shit!” Jessie threw his hands out at the same time as I did, our heads colliding as we made simultaneous grabs for her. We still managed to catch her, though I bore most of her weight since one of his hands darted up to hold his forehead above his right eye.
Her bodyguard was suddenly there, pushing between us and trying to grab his client.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jessie cried out. “We didn’t do anything to her. She just passed out!”
“I’ve got her if you need to call someone,” I told the guard, easing down to sit on the steps with her draped awkwardly across my lap. She was out cold, like someone had clocked her over the head with a baseball bat from behind. But a quick check at her neck showed she still had a steady, fast pulse.
The guard grunted, fished out a phone from his pocket, and made a hurried, quiet call. A couple of minutes later, a small four-door black car showed up, Sabrina’s other guard behind its wheel.
The guard looked like he was going to try and take Sabrina from my arms. But like hell was that going to happen.
“We’re coming with,” I growled, already sliding into the backseat with Sabrina.
“Yeah.” Jessie dove in with me, then turned and pointed to his now bloody face. “Besides, I’m probably going to need stitches, man.”
Scowling, the guard circled around the car to take the front passenger seat, and we were off, racing through the city streets until we jerked to a stop at a hospital’s back entrance where a nurse was waiting with a wheelchair.
Sabrina was just starting to come around, probably disturbed by how hard we jerked to a stop. “Wh—”
“Easy, I’ve got you,” I murmured to her as Jessie and the guards exited the car. “We’re at a hospital—”
Her eyebrows pinched together hard. “No! The media—”
“We managed to lose them on the way, ma’am,” the guard who had driven us there said as they wheeled the chair up to the back door.
She sighed and relaxed in my arms as I eased us out of the car and with the help of the guards got her situated in the chair. They pulled her hoodie up over her head, and she kept her face ducked beneath it as they quickly wheeled her inside.
We trailed in after them, me because I needed to know what was wrong with her. And Jessie because his face was bleeding all over the place.
While Sabrina was taken away somewhere deep within the hospital with her guards, Jessie and I followed the signs to the ER so we could find somebody to stitch him up. I was impressed that he obviously tried to downplay the pain as a nurse cleaned up the inch-
long gash then repeatedly stabbed his forehead with a needle to numb the area for stitches. Sitting a couple of feet away on a wheeled stool, I watched the nurse work on him, unabashedly cringing every time she poked the curved needle through his skin for another stitch.
“Dude, your facial expressions are harder to take than the stitches,” he joked at one point.
I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a half smile. “Just mirroring what’s happening with your face.”
“First time to see someone get stitches?” the nurse asked while continuing to work.
Jessie snorted. “Doubtful since he’s got nine brothers.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen more than my fair share of family battle scars. Broken bones, broken noses and faces, one particularly ugly cauliflower ear when my oldest brother Jimmy tried to take up boxing unsuccessfully.”
Jessie cringed, earning a reproach from the nurse for moving. “Did they have to poke his ear all over to let the swelling go down?”
“Yep. Couldn’t have a fugly ear when he was headed for a bright and shining career as a courtroom lawyer.”
Jessie snorted. “And your other brothers? What’d they turn out to become?”
“Two lawyers, three doctors, and the rest are becoming tenured professors.”
Jessie laughed but tried to hold his head still. “Wow. Talk about being the black sheep of the family.”
I smiled at him. “Yep.”
“Any of them coming to any of the shows?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe if my brothers are able to get away from their work and families long enough.”
I didn’t want to talk about the fact that my brothers and I weren’t especially close, many of them because of the age gap between us, and some because they were giant dicks who preferred to try to torture me for driving our parents nuts for years with my career choice instead of turning into academics like them.
Finally Jessie was all stitched up. We could have called for an Uber ride or a local taxi. But we both really wanted to know if Sabrina was alright. None of the hospital staff would tell us directly, but they did eventually send one of her guards out to talk to us in the waiting room.
