Piper: A Last Score Spin Off

by K. L. Shandwick

  I knew Simon wasn’t doing it purposely to aggravate him; all he was doing was showing his affection and reacting naturally to being around me.

  Poor little Melody cried buckets the day we left, and I felt like the worst sister in the world, but she brightened with hope when Chloe promised her a girlie weekend at my place as soon as I had finished my tour with Layla Hartmann.

  “Glad you decided to bring me?” Simon asked as I sat facing him on the opposite seat on the plane.

  “I am. You were right, I was being a pussy,” I admitted and glanced up into his eyes.

  “Say that again?”

  “What?”

  “Pussy?” His lips curled up into a smile. “Never heard you say it before.” He chuckled to himself and I swatted him.

  “I’m sure I’ve said It before,” I blurted out through a giggle.

  “Nope, but you have my permission to break out that pretty, potty mouth anytime, baby,” he goaded playfully, and I tried not to blush as he moved over, slid into the seat beside me and wrapped his arms tightly around me.

  “Jesus Christ, I just wanna eat you.” He growled, “You’re so fucking adorable when you’re flustered, Princess.” I readjusted myself and fought off my shyness by placing my head on his shoulder. He sighed. “Get some rest, hon, because when I get you home there won’t be much sleeping going on.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A week after returning to Santa Monica, my life became insanely busy. Simon and I had spent every waking moment getting to know more about each other at his place, then when I wasn’t working we spent time at mine.

  We spoke about the Amy thing I'd overheard in Colorado, but after he explained it, I accepted he felt bad but from what he told me nothing about the incident was down to him.

  Maybe I should have been put off by his open conversations of the women he used to date and the antics he used to get up to, but from my perspective it was important to know exactly how his life had been before me.

  With each admission I was a little more overawed, but he was insistent I had his complete honesty because like he told me, if I was aware I could prepare.

  In the music business it was highly likely I’d come across some of the women he’d been with. If that were the case I knew I’d have to develop a pretty thick skin.

  Each new revelation he disclosed about his past was frank but sensitively delivered and I knew he didn’t want to hurt me by raking over old coals although there was more than one occasion where I had to remind myself why he was telling me it all.

  Listening to how many women Simon had been connected to wasn’t easy, but I knew what his lifestyle was before I came along and once I had the gist of the extent of his promiscuous past I could see why Gibson felt the way he did.

  Meeting women linked to Simon was obviously the last thing I would have wished for, but I had to accept if I was going to hang with a man twelve years my senior, I could hardly be upset by his history.

  At thirty-two years of age, I knew few people would be in a position where there were no skeletons in the closet, and a huge rock star such as Simon could have been expected to have many more. At least there had been no marriages, messy divorces, or children, to factor into the equation.

  Instead of Simon putting me off him with all the stories of drunken debauchery and his dirty one-night-stands, it drew us closer.

  This may have seemed strange to most people but the way we viewed it, him explaining would feel like less of a blow than hearing it elsewhere.

  Knowing exactly how he functioned before me, gave me a clear understanding of how Simon viewed his life… especially on the road.

  At work, my marketing and PR team really got to grips with shaping a firm ‘Piper’ branding. They focused on everything from the music similarities of other artists right down to the shoes I wore. Their aim was to ensure everything about me was instantly recognizable and associated with me.

  Then there were the constant photo shoots. I’d never posed for so many pictures in my life. Taking advice on interview technique and presentation, what questions to answer and which to avoid, was exhausting.

  However, by the time I was ready for my first television interview, I had much more self-awareness of how I presented myself and felt more confident.

  When I came out of makeup to do my first live interview, I felt a ball of nerves, both with anxiety and excitement. My eyes scanned the vast open studio as I sought out Simon to gauge his reaction to my appearance.

  I could hardly wait to see what he thought because when I had glanced at my reflection in the mirror I thought I looked sophisticated and womanly instead of the plain girl in my daily existence.

  The instant he saw me he smiled before he eyed me speculatively and his jaw dropped. He looked stunned, and I smiled coyly expecting a flurry of compliments, but when his jaw snapped shut and he shook his head as he strode over toward me I knew he wasn’t happy.

  “Who the fuck did this to you?” he asked when he reached me. Holding me by my elbows he spun around to look for someone. Anger radiated through his hands and I had no understanding as to why. I'd only had a quick peek in the mirror but I had thought I looked great.

  “Goddammnit, get all that shit off her face; she’s fucking gorgeous as she is. What the fuck? She doesn’t need that crap plastered all over her face to be noticed. Look at her. Did you use Crayola Crayons to get this look?”

  Simon continued to give the makeup artist a dressing down and instead of me stepping out toward the studio to wait for the television presenter, my makeup was hastily redone with the minimum amount necessary for the television cameras and lights not to make me look pale and pasty.

  On closer inspection, I had to admit once she had taken some off, it did look better.

  “There’s my beautiful woman,” he praised.

  “Don’t you like me to look dressed up?” I asked, wondering briefly if Simon only wanted me because I looked much younger. I considered whether the novelty of me would wear off as I matured.

  “Fuck no, Piper. You don’t need all that shit on your face is what I’m saying. There was so much foundation and heavy eye make up on you a drag queen would have been proud.”

  I chuckled and felt relieved because when I thought about it, I had been very heavily made up. It had taken forever for the makeup artist to apply it and I had never seen anyone apply as many layers. I figured the makeup artist knew what she was doing and never questioned the over-the-top application she’d done.

  “You really have to put your foot down with these image people, otherwise they’ll start saying things like you’re too fat, 'let’s give you a little filler, honey', or plump your lips. Next thing you know your face looks like a puffed-up pillow and your speech is slurred. Promise me you won’t get sucked into this shit.”

  After the interview, I met with Thomas who had also flown in, and we had fun holding open music auditions for my backing band. We wanted three guys and two girl backing singers but the standard of the candidates was so high we had trouble choosing who to pick.

  Prior to the final choices, Thomas had me interview them too because they were the band who’d become my tribe and support me while I found my feet in the music industry.

  Eventually we kept Wyatt from the studio as my piano player, selected a cool drummer named Austin, and a Scottish guy called Kerr who was an exceptional guitarist. Instead of two girls, we chose a sweet girl called Petra, and a neat looking guy, Isiah, who each had strong vocal ranges that blew us away.

  They were all very grateful they’d been chosen, but in truth it was me who was indebted to them because I knew I’d be nothing in a live setting without them.

  Thankfully, all of them appeared to be easy going people, and I bonded with them quickly, but there was an immediately infinity between me and Kerr. At two years older than me, he liked the same kinds of music, shared the same ideas, and was fun to be around.

  Getting to know all of them was a blast and within weeks we were
firm friends. They worked hard and were up to speed on the album picks and the occasional improvisations I made that let people know when I sang it was live and by the time I was ready to join Layla Hartmann they were as eager to get started as I was.

  I liked that Kerr was European because he saw things from a different perspective and had come to the USA as a teen when his father, an oil worker, came to Texas to work as an engineer for one of the oil giants.

  Witty as heck, he brought sunshine to my day, and we fell into an easy friendship from day one. Simon eyed him warily when he met him, and it made me chuckle.

  With each day that passed we grew closer and within a few weeks I felt I’d known him all my life. I couldn’t begin to explain how much he meant to me in such a short time.

  I’d never had a friend I trusted enough to confide in before, yet I found myself telling him about my past. Usually I was a very private person, but somehow it had been important to me that he understood what had happened to me.

  Perhaps it was a subconscious decision, in the event I did something unwittingly to screw up our friendship.

  During the three weeks we were getting set up, we spent long hours rehearsing and working with the PR team in readiness for the schedule that lay ahead.

  Simon came down to Santa Monica twice during the first week we rehearsed but became frustrated and restless when I couldn’t spare any time for him.

  Eventually Simon became impatient, probably due to always getting what he wanted before. He decided to go back to Los Angeles to hang out with some friends and I felt relieved.

  All I did was apologize for not being able to see him. Guilty for not being able to spend time with him. Then even although I knew he was right to leave, I felt a sense of loss when he did.

  I tried to accept that our lives would be this way if we continued to be together. I’d had back-to-back interviews while he visited, yet soon after he left, I found I had more time here and there where we could have spent time together—but he had gone.

  Once our schedule started, I had very little time for anyone other than the musicians in my backing band and for the first time in my life I truly felt part of something much bigger, a place where it was accepted that I had to take the lead. Unlike when I was a teenager and snagged the main part in a play where others felt it was theirs by right, due to a sense of entitlement.

  “Hey, beautiful, what’s with the frown?” Kerr asked as he slumped into the band bus couch beside me and nudged our shoulders together.

  “I know right? You’d think I’d be feeling elated at being taken from place to place to introduce myself to the public.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “Well, yeah I am, but I miss being with Simon and I’m a little homesick for my family.” Kerr had no idea who my new family were, just that someone had stepped up as my guardian when my mom was dying.

  Although we had grown close, my connection to the Barclays was the one thing I had kept to myself. One good thing about Simon and I being outed by the press was all the guys in the band already knew this before they had been taken on.

  Even though I had been pretty open with him about my mom and Colin, I held back on telling him about the Barclays. I’d fought hard to keep that part of my life private and until I had put myself out there, I preferred not to tout my connection to Gibson about.

  Kerr reached over and with his finger and thumb stretched my frown to a smile. I grinned widely at his attempt to cheer me up and he smiled warmly in return. “Sorry,” I offered by way of an apology, rolling my head to the side to look at him.

  My guitarist was possibly the best-looking boy I’d ever seen, with his gray-colored eyes, deep tan, and dark brown hair cut close to his head.

  He looked more like a marine than a musician. There was something about Kerr that drew me in… something that made me feel I could always be myself and he’d accept me.

  “That’s more like it. When you smile, you light up the room… or the bus.” He sniggered, and I blushed at his compliment. Completely ignoring any awkwardness I emitted, he stared at me with a quizzical look. “What can I do to cheer you up?” he asked, wiggling his brows mischievously.

  I felt myself blush because our faces were close. He gave me a more scrutinizing look.

  “I’m fine… missing Simon I guess.”

  His smile fell immediately, and he eyed me curiously, “That bad, huh?” He sighed and slowly leaned over, lifting a small wisp of hair that had fallen over my eye. Moving it to the side of my head he sighed again.

  “Sorry, that was annoying me,” he said, still staring back at me like what he’d done was nothing. It didn’t feel like nothing to me. Everything from how close we were sitting, the familiarity in the way he interacted with me, and the natural way he moved my hair out of my eyes felt intimate… but not uncomfortable.

  I looked away and took a deep breath because the air felt heavy between us. “Want to do something later when we stop?”

  “Like what?” I asked, turning back to look at him again.

  “I dunno. Ten-pin bowling with the rest of them, or we could catch a movie? Depends what there is to do when we get there.” Both sounded great. I’d never done either.

  “Sounds good, but I don’t know how to play.”

  Kerr sat forward and turned toward me, his eyes wide with surprise. “You’ve never been bowling?”

  “No, I guess I missed out on most fun things growing up,” I admitted.

  “Then we’re gonna put that right, Miss Piper.” He eyed me with a new determination, leaned over and held my hand for a second, “Tell me what you’ve never done that you would like to, and we’ll try to find things during the road trips. You can make a bucket list of all the activities you’d like to do, and we’ll make it happen.”

  My heart squeezed with affection because Kerr had become an important source of comfort to me during the previous few weeks and with every day that passed we got closer.

  Traveling up the coast between San Francisco and Seattle, the weather was notably cooler. The fall colors painted the most amazing scenery that I knew I’d never tire of looking at.

  Burnt amber and deep red along with twenty shades of brown and yellow leaves made me stare in wonder. During those precious moments of peace, I reflected on my past and allowed myself to feel the pain I hid inside.

  My mom never got to experience the seasons with me and although I was very proud of what I had achieved, the one person I would have chosen above all others to share it with would never know I made it.

  At other times Kerr and I sat slumped, side by side on the bus couch, either we talked, or I read while he had long private message conversations with his girlfriend on Facebook, while I did the same with Simon. It was nice to have someone I could share something exciting or funny Simon told me with.

  As we moved further up the coast and the nearer we got to Seattle the more nervous I became. My stomach churned at the thought of meeting an iconic music legend such as Layla Hartmann.

  Ms. Hartmann had been an A-list music act since before I was born. These days she did smaller tours in smaller venues, which were still terrifying in numbers to me. A few thousand crowd instead of the fifty thousand my boyfriend was used to, but he said those numbers were exactly the right size for someone like me starting out. What if Layla doesn’t like me? What if she changes her mind? What if I screw up on stage? What then?

  During a moment of insecurity, I voiced my concerns to Kerr then was immediately sorry I’d opened my mouth. Giving me a long-winded lecture about believing in myself, he told me to shake off any negativity I felt because I was wasting energy.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in myself, I did, but I wasn’t as egotistical as to think no one would call me a talentless wonder who got her break through knowing Simon. Nudging me to listen when the Taylor Swift song, “Shake It Off”, played on the radio, he made me smile and I grinned because for someone so new to me in my life, he was definitely in my corner. />
  When we finally arrived in Portland, it was still the early afternoon, and as we had slept for most of the morning I was full of energy. Kerr sat scrolling through his iPad and as I had listed 'Visit a funfair', as one of the activities on my new bucket list, he informed me we were within spitting distance of one at the hotel we were staying in.

  It must have been fate that we arrived on the day we did because it was also the last day of the season at the park.

  Palace Playland was a huge funfair by the beach. I was totally down for an afternoon of fun in the sun so after we had checked into our hotel, I couldn’t wait to visit my first funfair.

  From the moment we passed San Francisco, I had the opposite problem to being in Santa Monica and felt freezing cold all of the time.

  For every few hundred miles north, I added an extra layer of clothing and by the time I stepped out for the funfair I looked fifty pounds heavier, dressed in a red tank top, red t-shirt, and a navy-blue sweater, under a silver-gray puffer jacket.

  “You think you’re gonna be warm enough?” Kerr’s tone was laced with sarcasm as he tried to bite back a grin.

  “It’s freezing out here,” I said shivering because he’d brought attention to the temperature again. He chuckled and pulled me into his side.

  Before I could feel uncomfortable with his gesture, he began to walk toward the sidewalk. “Come on, let’s get your adrenaline going and you’ll soon forget the cold,” he reassured me and raised his hand to flag down a cab.

  If I thought being with Gibson and Chloe had breathed new life into me, it was nothing to how I felt when I sampled my first rollercoaster. Exhilarated and petrified weren’t two emotions I had ever imagined went together, but I learned that pretty darn quickly.

  My heart pounded wildly, and I found myself seeking out Kerr’s hand as extra security during the two-minute ride that had felt never-ending as the suspended car we were strapped in flew over the brightly painted metal rails above our heads.