by Arell Rivers
“Thank you for talking with Josh, Mr. Manchester.” She fiddles with her son’s sleeves.
“Cole,” I reply automatically.
Her lips purse. “Josh’s teacher told me he’s talented, but I don’t have the money for him to take private lessons.” I guess the ripped jeans aren’t a fashion statement. She looks down, and my heart breaks for both of them.
I crouch down to the boy’s height. “What do you play, Josh?”
He puffs up. “Violin. I’m first chair in my school’s orchestra.” Violin…just like Nicole.
“That’s awesome, buddy. Make sure you keep practicing, no matter what. Promise me that you’ll always follow your dreams, okay?”
“I promise, Mr. Manchester.”
“That’s Cole to you.” The boy beams at me. Standing back up, I address his mother. “Thanks for bringing him here.”
“You’re his favorite.”
I smile and tousle the boy’s hair. Still addressing his mom, I ask, “Can you do me a favor? Please write down your name and address and leave it for me before you go.”
She seems caught off-guard, but after considering my request, she nods. “Sure.” Mom and son snap some photos with me and move on. I greet more fans, but my mind remains on Josh. A plan forms. I’ll talk to Nicole if she’s backstage tonight. Maybe I can arrange for the kid to get some lessons.
Two teenage girls step up, both looking at me like I’m the last cupcake in the bakery. “Cole, you’re the best singer ever.” The girl who says it is shaking. Poor thing.
Her friend points a camera at us. “Photo?”
“Sounds great.” I wrap my arm around her and feel her tense up. “I hope I don’t break the lens.” The girls titter and relax somewhat.
Once the photo is taken, they switch places so now my arm is around the other young lady. “Can I give you a kiss?”
Not an unusual request. I wink at her, bend down and offer her my cheek, on which she promptly places her lips. I’m pretty sure they planned this, since the girl at the camera takes an inordinate amount of time with the photo. The girls give me a thumbs up and move toward the door, chattering excitedly.
Finally, the last woman gets her autograph and photo, leaving me alone with the DJ and a few other staffers from the radio station. “Nice job,” the DJ says. “You really made your fans feel like they spent some quality time together with you.”
“Thanks. I meant what I said. Without them, I’d be back in New York City playing at small clubs and bars. I try never to forget that.”
The DJ nods. “Oh, by the way, the lady with the young son asked me to give this to you.” He hands me a folded piece of paper.
A name and address is scribbled on it. “Thanks.” I refold it and put it in my back pocket. “It was nice meeting you. Join me backstage?”
“I’d love to, but I have to do some fan interviews and commentary before your show.”
“Well, if you get a break, stop on by.”
“Will do.”
In the backstage area, the pre-party and preparations for tonight’s show are in full swing. Scanning the crowd, my eyes zero in on the black-haired beauty from last night. Her friend appears to have reunited with my keyboardist.
I stride toward Nicole. “I’m so glad you were able to make it.” I give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks, Cole. Me, too.”
“Listen, I just met this boy at the fan meet and greet. His name is Josh and he’s ten.”
Her eyebrows raise. She doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “I don’t know all the details, but he’s made first chair violin in his school’s orchestra, and his mom doesn’t have the money to pay for private lessons. Do you know anyone who might be able to help him out? I’d like to cover the bill.”
“Oh, wow. Yes, I do. Do you have his contact information?”
“Sure do.” Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the folded paper and hand it to her.
“I’ll personally make sure that he’s matched with a great teacher.”
“Thank you.” It’s nice to feel like I did something good today. Especially after the hotel debacle.
The stage manager bellows from the doorway. “Fifteen minutes ’til showtime!”
Nicole puts her hand on my bicep. With a smile, she says, “Break a leg out there. I really am looking forward to the show tonight, especially from back here.”
I return her smile. “I hope to see you perform someday, too.”
Twenty minutes and a hundred push-ups later, I bound onto the stage. “Good evening, Phoenix!”
The roar of the crowd lifts me up, just like it always does, their energy feeding me. I love it when the crowd is all riled up. I start playing the first song of the set.
After the third song, I take my usual break and grab the bottle of water by Jeffrey’s drums. Walking to the front of the stage, I ask: “How’s it going, Phoenix?” More screams. “Turn up the house lights, I want to see you.”
The lighting guys, who are used to this request, immediately comply. I make out a sea of people—probably close to five hundred—and quite a few signs. “I LOVE U COLE!” and “MARRY ME COLE!” seem to be the most popular tonight. Laughing, I say, “I love you, too!”
I wait for the noise to quiet somewhat before I continue. “I met this great kid named Josh today. He reminded me of me when I was ten years old, just starting to play piano. I’ll tell you what I told him: promise me that you will always follow your dreams. Got that, Phoenix?!” Cheers erupt from the audience. I look backstage and catch Nicole’s eye.
Jeffrey starts the hard, driving beat of the next song.
I HEAR THE front door creak open, followed my best friend’s voice calling, “Hey buddy. Welcome home!” Dropping the notes for my upcoming video shoot onto my bed, I meet Dan in the entryway and give him a hug. A manly, bro-hug, of course.
“It’s great to see you back in LA, Cole. Sorry I wasn’t here last night when you got in.”
“Not a problem. I’m glad you didn’t change the locks on me while I was away.”
“Yeah, right. It’s not like I had to keep all of your crazy groupies away from me while you were off touring the country. But now that you’re back, all bets are off.”
I punch him on the deltoid and we make our way to the living room. “Were you out with Suzanne last night?” They met four months ago at a conference sponsored by her network—she’s in the news department and he’s in programming—and he’s been a one-woman man ever since.
“Yup.” He smiles.
“Oh brother. You’ve got a dumbass smile on your face like you’re auditioning to be the village idiot or something.”
“Don’t knock it ’til you try it.”
“Yeah, not hopping on that train anytime soon.” I motion for him to sit down while I hustle into the kitchen and grab two beers. After handing him a cold one, I sprawl out on the black leather couch with my own beer.
He takes a deep breath. “I want you to meet her.”
My eyebrows raise. “That serious?”
Dan takes a long pull from his beer, looking at the floor rather than at me. When his eyes finally do meet mine, I know. He’s in love. “I think she’s the one.”
I reach over and fist bump him. “Dude, that’s awesome. I’m really happy for you.”
“I know that we’ve only been dating for a short time, but she’s so different from the other women I’ve dated. She’s funny, smart and she doesn’t let me get away with any shit.”
I take a long swig of my beer. “So I guess I should call Cassie and cancel the threesome she agreed to tonight?” Cassie Johnston is a soap opera actress that we met when I moved out to LA to be Dan’s roommate. The three of us enjoyed some wild nights.
Dan sets his jaw. “I’m out.”
“I was teasing, you dumbass.”
“Douche.”
“Asswipe.”
His finger traces the beer’s logo. After a minute of silence, he says, “Listen, Suzanne surpri
sed me with tickets to Hawaii a few weeks ago, and we leave in a few days.” He rushes on, “She booked it before I realized you were coming home for a break in your tour. We can reschedule—”
It’s as if someone punched me in the gut. My friendship with Dan’s changing. For a split-second I’m envious of losing my time with him to a girl. But I meant what I said—I want him to be happy.
“No. Don’t do that. I’m going to be shooting my video next week, so I won’t be around much anyway. We’ll hang out before you leave.”
Dan exhales loudly. “Thanks, bro. I’m bummed that I won’t be here for your entire break.”
Me, too. “We’ll just have to cram all our togetherness in. Sing ‘Kumbaya’ around a fire and all that shit.”
Smiling, he asks, “So, what do you want to do tonight? You haven’t been in LA for months.”
“Actually, I’d love to cook dinner and chill with you. I’ve missed cooking. Not to mention eating at a real table and then sitting down to talk on a couch that isn’t bumping down some interstate.”
“Sounds good to me.”
We head into the small kitchen and I take inventory. “Looks like pasta.”
“Can you make some of your Mom’s meatballs? I’ve missed them.”
We both know that between the two of us, he’s always done the lion’s share of the cooking. Nevertheless, I say, “Now I know. You haven’t missed me, just my mad cooking skills. I’m being used for my meatballs.” I grab my crotch.
“Whatever lets you sleep at night.”
Laughing, I pull together the ingredients for dinner.
After we’ve gorged ourselves on spaghetti and meatballs—not nearly as good as Mom’s—we go back to the living room and turn on a game. It’s basically background noise for our conversation.
“So, Dan, my accountant has been after me to buy a home. Something about a write-off. And it sounds like you and Suzanne might want to move in together soon anyway. It’s time for me to move out—I don’t want to be the third wheel.”
His forehead wrinkles. “Don’t go jumping the gun. Besides, it’s not like you’re here that often. You’re always more than welcome to crash with me wherever I live, you know.”
Bros before hos. But something tells me Suzanne doesn’t fall into the latter category. I reach over and clink the neck of his beer. “Thanks. But I don’t want to cramp your style.”
He rolls his eyes. “As if.” He sips his beer. “So, where are you thinking of looking?” We discuss the merits of some LA neighborhoods.
Our conversation is interrupted by his cell phone ringing. His broad smile tells me it’s Suzanne. I nod to him and he walks off toward his bedroom to talk with his girlfriend.
Dan’s down for the count—it’s obvious that his single days are over if he has any say in the matter. I hope it works out.
Shaking my head to clear Dan’s love life from my brain, I call my agent Russell to get a broker referral. After all, it’s not like I can just walk into a realtor’s office. Rose would have a field day trying to keep my house hunt off the front page if I tried something like that. One of the many things I didn’t fully realize about fame, even at this introductory level of it.
When Dan returns to the room, I wrap up my conversation with my manager. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to shooting the video for ‘Prowling’ next week. Thanks for the broker referral.”
Dan looks smug. “What’s that smirk about?”
He replies, “You’re shooting the video for my song.”
“Technically, ‘Prowling’ is my song. I wrote it. You just supplied the ammo.”
“Whatever, dude. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”
“You do know I still have that drunken note you left me…the one I based ‘Prowling’ on. Maybe I should show it to Suzanne?”
“Fuck you.”
I chuckle. “So, want to join me house hunting? Russell’s sending me some broker’s names. I’d appreciate having a second opinion.”
“Sure. Why not? It’ll be fun spending your money.”
“Think Suzanne would want to join us?” His huge smile is all the answer I need.
MY FIRST APPOINTMENT with the realtor is in an hour, and Suzanne is scheduled to arrive at the apartment at any moment to join Dan and me to tour a couple of houses. He’s been pinballing between the front and side windows for the last ten minutes.
“Dude. Plant it, she’ll be here soon.” I motion for him to join me on the couch.
Dan heeds my advice, the leather creaking as he collapses onto it. “I know you’re going to like her.” He fixes me with a stare. “You’re going to like her, right.” His voice goes up on the last word as if he’s asking me a question.
Shaking my head, I reply, “Chill out. Of course I’ll…”
The sound of a car door closing galvanizes Dan out of the couch. He’s at the front door before I can complete my sentence. “like her,” I mutter under my breath and join him at the now-open door.
A woman of average height with curly brown hair and a nice rack strides up the walk, her big brown eyes glued to my best friend. Dan wraps his arms around her and kisses her like they haven’t seen each other in years, although I know for a fact they were together mere hours ago.
“Ahem. Third wheel here.”
Suzanne giggles and steps back from Dan. He kisses her hand, then addresses me. “Cole, this beautiful woman is my girlfriend, Suzanne Wallace. Suzanne, this is my roommate, Cole Manchester.”
I smile at her, positive my dimple is showing. This is the smile I usually bestow on groupies, followed by them handing me their panties. I reach out and take her hand. It’s not trembling, and it doesn’t feel sweaty or icy. I bring it up to my lips and kiss it like Dan just did, locking my eyes with hers. She doesn’t flinch and her gaze stays friendly. Lowering my voice an octave, I murmur, “A pleasure.”
What the hell am I doing? I’m certainly not hitting on her—she’s Dan’s girl. When Dan whacks me upside the head it dawns on me like a cymbal crash that I’m testing her. I need to be sure she isn’t trying to use Dan to get to me like others have done in the past.
Suzanne’s answering smile is affable, rather than intimate. She extricates her hand and taps me on the shoulder. “I’m glad to finally meet Dan’s best friend.”
Just like that, she passes my unconscious test. I step back and Dan wraps his arm around her shoulders.
We spend the next few days touring houses, sometimes the two of us and sometimes with Suzanne. It’s been fun getting to know her and I do appreciate her input. Now, I’m absolutely sure she’s as into Dan as he is into her.
Unfortunately, no house has caught my eye yet. “This is a very nice infinity pool,” Suzanne says as the three of us stand in the backyard of the umpteenth house we’ve explored. CJ Greene, my realtor, stands beside us, giving me occasional side-eye.
“Yeah, I like the patio too,” I admit.
Dan chimes in, “Nice big area back here where you could put in a bar and outdoor kitchen.”
“Too bad it’s not already done. I guess I could add them in. But the kitchen and master suite would also need to be renovated, and that’s a lot of work. Not to mention converting the basement into a recording studio.”
“You could easily make all those changes.” Suzanne waves her hand in the general direction of the backyard. “But does it feel like home to you?”
Suzanne always asks me this question. My “gut check,” she calls it. Before I can respond, CJ says, “You’d fit right into this neighborhood, Cole. A lot of celebs are out here. In fact, Mimi Barker just moved in next door.”
I glance at Dan and Suzanne. “Who’s Mimi Barker?”
Dan seems to find his shoe suddenly very interesting, although I’d swear he’s smiling.
Suzanne wades into the silence. “You haven’t heard of her?” I shake my head. Suzanne continues, “She’s a reality star.”
The fact that Dan refuses to look at me sets my Spidey-senses on high alert. Address
ing the top of my best friend’s head, I ask, “Are we talking reality show as in a talent competition?” I already know the answer.
Again, Suzanne replies, “No. An ‘unscripted’ drama.” Her air quotes around “unscripted” are quite unnecessary.
She’s one of those celebrities who’s famous just for being famous. Ugh.
“Social media whore?” I ask Dan, who’s finally mastered his smirk enough to raise his head.
Dan nods. “Famous only for the photos of her, uhm, considerable assets.” He pulls Suzanne to his side and kisses her cheek as if to show his girlfriend that her assets are much more to his liking.
“CJ, I think we’re done here. Let’s keep looking.” My gut check for the house was neutral, but the bad neighbor took it into the no-go zone.
The next morning, all three of us head out to the car after breakfast. They’re going to Hawaii, and I’m going to shoot my video.
“Cole, thanks so much for driving us to the airport,” Suzanne says after we load up the trunk.
“Not a problem. Besides, I want to spend as much time with you as I can.” I wink at Dan’s girlfriend, and he immediately frowns and pulls her closer to his side.
Suzanne smacks me lightly on my forearm. “You’re a big tease. C’mon, let’s get to the airport. I can’t wait to get lei’d.”
Dan rolls his eyes, but leans over and gives her a kiss. They have the same exact sense of humor. These two are a perfect match and I’m happy for them. As for me, why get tied down when there’s always a new adventure around the corner?
“Don’t worry about your apartment while you’re gone, Dan. I promise no crazy parties.” I filled him in about the Phoenix incident.
“I want to hear all about your first video shoot. Take notes.”
I offer Dan a quick nod, then address Suzanne. “Now, don’t let this big lunk trick you into dancing with coconut shells as a top. You don’t want to get the Mimi Barker kind of famous.”
Suzanne smiles at me before shifting her attention to Dan. “Well, maybe a private dance…” Her response makes my best friend whisper something in her ear that causes her to giggle. Yeah, they’re perfect for each other, all right.
