Anya and the Shy Guy (Backstage Pass)

by Suze Winegardner

  Deb. Right.

  And then he realized what she’d said. His jaw dropped. “Both of them left last night?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, babe, you now know as much as I do. I guess so? They were the only ones staying in Hanging On and they’re cleaning the whole place, I think. I got my old bunk back in Rock You.”

  Matt stood, not knowing what to do with himself. He paced a bit. And then stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Deb asked. “You’re making me dizzy.”

  “Nothing. Sorry, I’ve got to go. Feel better.” Matt went for the door. “Shit. By the way. Move into Hanging On. Since you left, the shocks on the Rock You bus got worse. It’ll be hell if you’re in pain.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” she shouted behind him as he left.

  He barged into Hanging On. He had to see if she’d left him a note or anything. He asked the cleaners and they said the only thing that had been left was the tablet on the kitchen table.

  He looked around desperately, in case there was a note or anything. He went to her bunk and swiped the curtain open. A waft of her vanilla shampoo enveloped him and he nearly effing sobbed with frustration. He thumped the pillow and banged his hand on something hard. She’d left her notebook. He pulled it out. Maybe there was an address in it.

  The book flopped open to a page in the middle where the pen was. WILL FACTS was written on the top line and written over and over like a doodle. He smiled, until he read his facts.

  Off the record girlfriends?

  Psycho Fans. This is true. Reference comments on blog!!!

  “They banded together…” Distant from the others? Because he isn’t Will?

  Fried Bread? Blerg.

  Vegetarian? Maybe Will’s a veggie and Matt isn’t. Slip up?

  Needle phobia—passes out! And yet has a partially hidden tattoo on shoulder. Matt?

  Alice Singleton first girlfriend. She’d be able to confirm surely?

  Will and Nathan the only singles left on the tour.

  Kissed Natasha at the beginning of the tour. And yet doesn’t seem to remember it?

  Twisted his right knee. Photo of left knee in bandages on TMZ.

  Says he hasn’t kissed anyone on the tour. (lie) Unless Will did, and Matt didn’t. Until me?

  Definitely kisses on the first date. (see Natasha)

  Has had sex before. Wonder who with?

  Memory issues. (Nathan and the Tudors) – face-plant related? Nope. Obvs Will told Nathan about The Tudors. Matt had no idea.

  Knows precisely zero about the world tour.

  Bone structure changed since said face-plant. Occam’s razor. It’s not Will, it’s Matt.

  He slammed the notebook shut and looked around as if someone might have been watching him. When had she put these clues together? When had she first suspected? Had she made him fall in love with her just for a scoop? The exclusive breaking news? Nausea rushed through him and he sat down. Fuck.

  Images of his brother and mother on the streets. A fate he couldn’t even imagine before now had become vivid in his mind. LJ would own them all. Totally and forever. He’d screwed up and screwed them all. He looked at his watch and wondered how long he’d have before she filed her story. It could already be up.

  He checked his phone while pacing the bus. There was nothing on WowSounds. Maybe she’d gone for a larger audience. A better payday. He Google searched “news + Will Fray”. Nothing new came up.

  He rushed back to the band’s bus and ran up the stairs, banging the door open.

  Immediately, a magazine came flying through the air. He dodged it.

  “How many times have you been told, do not bang the door,” Ryder said, his calm voice belying his words.

  Matt ignored him. “Was there a note left for me anywhere?”

  The guys frowned and looked around. “Not that I can see,” Trevin said. “What’s up?”

  Matt just flopped down on the sofa and said nothing. His mind was running at a million miles an hour. He had no way of finding her. He didn’t know where she lived, not even the city. The only thing he knew about her was that she worked at WowSounds. His stomach started to rebel in the same way it had when he’d answered the knock on the door at home at three o’clock in the morning and found Will high and desperate.

  “Dude. Put your head between your legs, you look like you’re about to pass out.” Trevin jumped up and shoved Matt’s head down.

  After a second, he began to feel better and picked up his head. All four members were in the kitchen watching him. “What happened, mate?” Miles asked. “Are you sick?”

  He couldn’t tell them. He couldn’t spill about Will. He just…wanted to lie down in his bunk and disappear.

  Would Anya really leave without a word?

  Of course she would. She’d gotten what she’d come for.

  Dammit. It had felt real. Really real.

  A hollowness burrowed into his heart. Never again would he trust his own feelings. He looked at his fists clenched on his lap.

  He had to get his shit together.

  “Paige Parker got Natasha fired last night, and Anya’s disappeared, too. They’re gone, and I’ve got no way of contacting either of them. Especially Anya.”

  “Oh sweet Jesus,” Ryder said. “Hey, Trevin. That’s twenty bucks. I told you he was in love with that reporter girl. ‘Oh no,’ you said. ‘He wouldn’t do that.’ Cough up.”

  Trevin handed him a twenty dollar bill, shaking his head at Matt.

  “You bet on me?” Matt asked weakly.

  “Oh please. It was barely a bet. I mean, it was totally inevitable.” Ryder grinned as he stuffed the bill into his back pocket.

  “So what are you going to do?” Nathan asked. “Paige is horrible. She was always nasty to me. Natasha was always lovely. We should do something.”

  “Paige was nasty to you?” Trevin said. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have made her back off in a heartbeat.”

  Nathan shrugged, eyes on a computer in the middle of the table.

  It was only in the silence that Matt heard a song coming from the PC. “Who’s that?”

  Miles spun the screen around. “We were watching this girl on YouTube. She’s done this awesome cover of The One. We all just tweeted it.”

  Matt looked at the screen. She was a pretty young girl. All fresh-faced and ponytailed, sitting on her bed with a guitar. She was good. Really good. “Nice,” he agreed weakly before flopping back onto the sofa.

  “So let’s summarize,” Ryder began. “You’re in love with the reporter tasked to dig up dirt on you. Somehow you managed to fall in love with her without knowing how to get in contact with her—”

  “Seriously? Did you not exchange phone numbers, emails, and Instagram handles? Nothing?” Miles asked.

  Matt shook his head as Ryder continued. “LJ would have a fit if you publicly dated her anyway, as would Nathan, and speaking of whom, LJ and the bitch from bitchville just fired Natasha, who I think we can all agree was an asset to the crew, and the love of your life has disappeared. Did I forget anything?”

  “D’you think she dug up some scandal and ran off to report it?” Nathan asked, looking around. “Who’s been bad, then? Which of you was it?”

  Matt nearly choked.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Anya had gotten to the café early and had spent one of her last dollars on a cup of tea. She slunk down in her chair as she recognized the voices on the radio. Seconds to Juliet was doing an interview. Will wasn’t saying anything at all. Until he did. A tear leaked down her face when she heard him say that sometimes he just wanted to kiss a pretty girl.

  Well, at least he said she was pretty. But that was all on Natasha. It was she who’d made Anya look so special last night. Damn him for all his lies and for making her feel stupid. And hurt.

  A lady walked into the nearly empty café and looked around, her gaze skimming over Anya and moving on. She recognized her editor from her photo on the website. So she stood up and
waved. “Mrs. Wilson? Cyn?”

  A shocked look came over her face as she nodded and threaded her way through the empty tables toward her. She stopped at the table and stared at her for a good long moment. Her mouth twitched. “Anya Anderson?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  She pulled out the chair and sat down, her gaze still on Anya. “Wow,” she said. “Not exactly what I was expecting.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I think I kind of messed up.” So much was bound up inside Anya that she decided to get it all out on the table so she could just apologize and move on.

  “I did get a call from S2J’s manager telling me that I owed him fifteen hundred dollars for a dress. So maybe, yes, you did mess up. Tell me that you got a story. Some kind of a tell-all story that will make all this worthwhile.”

  Anya swallowed. “I did find out something…”

  Cynthia raised her eyebrows. “Well? What was it?”

  What did she say to that? Just blurt out the truth? Besides…

  “I’m not sure if it’s the right story for WowSounds.”

  Her editor sighed. “In that case, I’m sorry, Mrs. Anderson—”

  “It’s just Anya. No husband, no kids.” She pulled a contrite face.

  Mrs. Wilson shook her head. “I’m sorry, but if you don’t have a story by now, I’ve got no more use for you.”

  “If you give me more time, maybe I can—”

  “No. Their manager asked me to pull you. And if you can’t stay with the tour, I can’t pay you anymore. Your click rate has allowed us to raise our advertising prices for your blog, so I won’t pass on the charge of the dress, and I have a check for you for your per diems.” She took out an envelope. “Four hundred dollars. Good-bye, Anya. Sorry it didn’t work out.” She held out her hand. “The tablet?”

  Anya winced. “I’m sorry, I left it in the bus I was staying on.”

  Mrs. Wilson picked up the envelope with the check inside it and said, “You’ll get this back when you return my tablet. I’m staying at the Meridian Hotel until tomorrow morning. Leave the tablet at the front desk before tonight, and they’ll give you this. Okay?”

  Anya nodded, but inside she was desperate for a solution. If it had just been her future on the line, maybe she could have walked away. But this wasn’t just about her future. It was about Jude’s, too. She couldn’t let him down now.

  Cynthia stood and picked up her handbag—

  “Mrs. Wilson, wait…”

  Cynthia stopped and raised her eyebrows. “Having second thoughts?”

  “What if I could give you the story of a lifetime?” Her stomach churned as she said the words.

  Her boss—or maybe ex-boss—crossed her arms. “Go on.”

  “It’s big. Maybe enough to break up the band.” Bile rose in her chest. What was she doing?

  After a long moment, Cynthia shrugged. “Fine. It’s on you. Bring me the tablet or bring me the story.” With that, she turned and walked away.

  The story or the tablet.

  The truth or nothing at all.

  She patted her backpack for her notebook to reread the clues that would convince everyone she wasn’t making this all up. It wasn’t there? How could she have forgotten it?

  Either way, now she would have to trek all the way back to the stadium and all the way back again. What would she do if she ran into Will, or Matt, or whoever he was? She’d have to be quick. In and out before anyone saw her.

  She gathered her things and picked up a tourist map from a black wire stand at the door of the café so that she would be able to find her way to the hotel.

  Maybe she could time it so that he’d be in makeup or costume when she arrived. She didn’t want to see him. She’d be too embarrassed. She’d been thrown off the tour for stealing a dress, and he’d spent the last week lying to her. Anyway, he’d probably forgotten all about her by now. What had he said? Just a pretty girl.

  She wanted to believe he had feelings for her, that at least that part had been true, but she knew better than anyone how thick a web of lies could be. Where did his deception begin and end? Even if he insisted his feelings for her were real, how would she know what to believe when he said one thing in private, another in public?

  As she walked slowly under the weight of her backpack, she actually wished that she’d had sex with him. Just that one time. Because she’d never felt like she wanted to before, and she wasn’t sure now she would ever feel that way again. Just to feel loved for that moment, maybe that would have seen her through…everything to come.

  Maybe that would have made this decision so much easier.

  But she hadn’t slept with him. And unless she retrieved her notebook and wrote this story, she’d have nothing to show for the whole horrible mess.

  The streets got less and less crowded the farther she got from downtown, and the second she rounded a corner into a totally deserted road, she slumped against a wall. Dry sobs racked her body. She bent over, telling herself that it wasn’t crippling despair but the weight of her pack that felt unbearable.

  Enough. Enough. You’ve been through worse. You’ve escaped worse. You can survive.

  She straightened and wiped her nose on her T-shirt sleeve, since that was the only thing she could reach. Everything inside her wanted to turn around and go nowhere near the stadium, but what would help her and Jude more? A few hundred dollars would only get them so far. A job—a real job—would help them for a lot longer.

  She pushed her shoulders back, readjusted her pack, and started walking again. With every step, she raised her chin.

  As she drew close, she dug around for her backstage pass to show the guy at the security gate. Luckily, she’d kept it as a memento. She’d actually fought herself about it as she’d hastily packed. She wanted to remember this past week, but on the other hand, everything had been screwed up so badly, she also kind of wanted to walk away. To pretend it hadn’t happened at all.

  Okay, chin up, chin up.

  She approached the gate and held out the pass that she’d slipped around her neck. The guy who had first shown her in a lifetime ago nodded at her and went back to his monitors. She pressed through the barrier and paused. Everything looked exactly the same, but everything felt totally different. She didn’t belong here anymore.

  No one was outside the trailers, not that it was really surprising. It was steaming hot. There was a yellow warning sign outside the Hanging On bus that indicated someone had cleaned the floors in there. She hoped the tablet and notebook were still there. She carefully maneuvered up the steps with her backpack, which almost stopped her getting through the door. That would add insult to injury right there. For a second, she imagined herself stuck in the door, unable to free herself, arms waving like a cockroach on its back.

  She managed to get in and grab the tablet, which was exactly where she’d left it. Thank God. After stowing it in a side pocket, she checked her bunk for her notebook. Gone. Dammit. She didn’t have time to chase down whoever cleaned the bus. She peered out the window to make sure she could make a clean break to the security gate again. It was still deserted.

  She took one last look around the trailer that had felt like her home, even though she’d only been in it for a few days, opened the door, and broke for the border.

  She’d made it halfway to freedom when a door slammed and raised voices floated on the breeze toward her. She made the mistake of looking around. It was Paige, clutching the gold dress, and Will or Matt…or maybe she should just start thinking of his as ‘Fray’. Her heart stopped, and everything seemed to slow down.

  The dress floated gently in the air as Paige brandished it, the sparkles catching the fading sunlight. She remembered how she’d felt when she’d worn it. But now she knew that Fray was getting the scoop about her stealing it. Could she get away?

  No. His eyes met hers and, like a magnet, she felt drawn to him. Couldn’t move away. Even as he grabbed the dress, pointed at Paige to go, and strode across the parking lot, she co
uldn’t move. Even though she knew it was over, her feet were welded to the concrete. Her body, mind, and heart were obviously longing for the torment of this end, this breakup, otherwise they’d let her run.

  He stood in front of her, and she swayed toward him. He said nothing for a second, but his eyes looked as stormy as the clouds gathering over the stadium.

  “Did you steal this?” he asked, not even holding up the dress for her to see.

  “I…” Her voice broke, and no sound emerged. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to.” She didn’t want to mention Natasha. Didn’t want to get her into any more trouble.

  “When you left, you forgot this.” His words were as hard as steel. He took something out of his back pocket. Her notebook. “You were going to screw me and the band with some wild story about my twin? Are you just really working for a sleazy tabloid? Was I some game?” He gestured between them, but the twist in his mouth said that it hurt for him to think about them together. “Was this some game?”

  “No. No. I—”

  “Don’t. You had all these theories, but you never once asked me about them. Was that deliberate? So I couldn’t deny your story? So you could just publish it without any comment?”

  She started to shake. This was so out of control, she didn’t know how to fix it. How to explain. Because the truth was that yes, she had arrived on the tour with every hope of getting the scoop on him. With every intention of selling her story to the highest bidder so that she could get herself and Jude somewhere safe. And until this moment, she’d still wondered if she could go through with the plan. She couldn’t deny it. Not without lying.

  But wait a minute. Her anger at him bubbled to the surface again. “Why would I have asked you for a comment when all you’d do was lie? That’s all you’ve ever told me, isn’t it? A bunch of lies. Lies on top of lies. What is it that people say? ‘I can tell you’re lying because your lips are moving.’ Why would you tell me the truth about anything? You even lied about your name.”