Cake: A Love Story

by J. Bengtsson

  “I really like you Jake…and it’s not because you’re a rockstar.”

  “Well I really like you Casey,” he replied. “And it’s not because you’re an accountant.”

  I bust up laughing. “You’re awesome. Thanks for coming here for me today, Jake…it was such a great surprise and it means a lot to me.”

  Jake’s face changed. He looked serious. “I think I have a crush on you Casey Caldwell.” He stared down at me in his sexy way, hair falling into his eyes and his head tilted.

  “Really?” I whispered shyly.

  “Really,” Jake smiled. He bent down and kissed my neck. “I spent the entire BBQ watching the clock so I could leave and come see you.”

  “I’m so happy you did,” I smiled up at him.

  “Dude?” We heard Kyle from inside the car.

  “I know,” he said in a raised voice then sighed, “I really have to go now.”

  “When does your flight leave?” I asked.

  “An hour and fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh God,” I laughed. “Go.”

  I wrapped him in a hug and whispered in his ear, “I’m going to miss you, Jake McKallister.” Then I kissed his full lips.

  Jake stared at me like I was some prize to be won then said, “I’m going to miss you more, Casey Caldwell.”

  He made me feel special in a way I’d never felt before.

  “Call me once you get to Germany, okay?”

  “I will.”

  We kissed again and then he opened the car door and got in. As they drove away, Jake waved at me. My heart skipped a beat. I turned back to the crowd gathered outside the restaurant. I was ready for them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jake

  We hit traffic on the way to the airport despite it being a Sunday. By the time we pulled up in front of the arrival terminal, I had exactly 48 minutes before my flight took off.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in there with you? I can park real quick…or hell, I can just leave the car parked here for a few minutes,” Kyle said.

  “No, I told you, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’m going to check in and then immediately go through security,” I reassured my brother.

  “Okay. Call me as soon as you’re on the plane so I don’t worry.”

  Normally little brothers didn’t worry about their adult siblings making it through an airport by themselves, but there was nothing normal about my situation. Being famous came with certain challenges…getting through crowded public areas being one of them. I jumped out of the car and grabbed my guitar, backpack and duffle bag out of the back seat.

  I leaned into the open window and said, “Thanks for the ride. I’ll text you when I’m there. Oh, and good luck on the show.”

  Kyle smiled. “Don’t know what I got myself into.”

  “You’re going to rock it,” I replied. “See ya, Kyle.”

  “Yeah, see ya…oh and one more thing…she’s awesome.”

  I nodded then smiled at Kyle before turning around and walking into the airport. Keeping my head down I headed straight for the first class passenger line and was relieved to see that there was only one person in it. I got in line just as the man in front of me was called up. I took out my phone and pulled up my flight information. As soon as I heard the whispering, I knew I had been spotted. There was a difference between crowds in public places like this and crowds who were gathered to see me at a concert or in front of my hotel. Those who specifically came to see me were usually big fans and they assembled in one place. They fed off each other’s energy and the results were loud and crazy but at least these crowds were controlled and I could chose how much interaction I wanted to have. But being spotted in a public place was unpredictable. If I was lucky people would just whisper, stare, and take pictures. If I was unlucky, I would find myself in the middle of an unruly mob. I wasn’t sure how this particular day was going to go and I could feel the tension of uncertainty building up inside me. I carefully avoided eye contact until I was called up to the counter.

  “Next first class passenger please,” the ticket agent called. I walked up to the counter and smiled at the middle-aged woman. She looked stunned when she saw me but recovered quickly and plastered a professional smile on her face. “Welcome to United Airlines. Where will you be flying today?”

  “LA then on to Frankfurt, Germany,” I replied.

  “Can I have your passport, please,” she asked. As I was handing it over, her fingers accidently brushed past mine.

  “Oh…I’m…sorry,” she stumbled on her words. Her face turned a crimson shade of red.

  “No problem,” I offered.

  “Okay well let me….um…,” she was looking at me trying to string her sentence together. Finally she just gave up, waved her hand, smiled and started typing into her computer. “Oh yes, now I remember…do you have any luggage to check?”

  “No. I was going to just carry on my duffle bag and guitar.”

  She stared at me again for a longer than comfortable moment then resumed typing. Okay now this was getting a little awkward.

  Finally she looked up and said, “Okay so we have you in seat 2A to Los Angeles and then 3C on the second floor first class lounge from LAX to Frankfurt on Lufthansa. Your flight is boarding so you’ll need to proceed directly to your gate as soon as you go through security.”

  “Will I have enough time to get through it?”

  She looked over to the security line. “Yes, you should be fine. I’ll call the gate and let them know you’re making your way through security. If you’d like I can get you special assistance.”

  “Yeah, that would be great,” I said. “Just someone to take me to the gate.”

  “Of course,” she agreed and got on the phone immediately. She spoke to someone for maybe 20 seconds then hung up and started typing again. I waited.

  Finally she looked up smiling. My ticket and passport were in her hand. “So you’re travelling to Germany with just a duffle bag?”

  “And a guitar,” I smiled.

  “Oh right, and a guitar,” she repeated, laughing. “Wow, you travel light.”

  “I’m on tour in Europe. All my stuff is there. Just took the weekend off.”

  “You left Europe to vacation in Arizona?” She laughed. “Interesting choice.”

  “My brother’s wedding actually.”

  “Oh okay, that makes more sense,” she replied giggling.

  “So am I all set then?” I asked needing to move this along or I was going to miss my flight.

  “Yes…yes…of course…sorry, I got distracted,” she said, sounding flustered. I looked at my ticket still in her hand. Time was ticking.

  “Um…”

  “Oh, geez,” she exclaimed then handed me my ticket and passport. “Didn’t realize I still had that. Well have a wonderful flight.”

  “Thanks,” I said then turned away from the counter. Standing behind me was a man in United Airline clothing.

  “Mr. McKallister, please follow me.”

  The man led me toward the security. Someone called my name and I was stupid enough to look up. Cameras snapped in my face. More people called my name. I smiled and waved then looked away. I could see a crowd forming and I tensed up. The assistant moved behind me to try to flow the tide of people. The lady checking tickets at the opening of the security line saw us coming and immediately waved us by. The United rep unlatched one of those temporary barriers and told me to step through. I did and he came in after me and shut it.

  “This way,” he said and led me the back way through the security line until I came up to the TSA officers checking IDs. I felt bad bypassing the line of people waiting to get through security but I was in a hurry and I was being chased so it was in everyone’s best interest to get me through quickly. The rep spoke to the TSA agent who, in turn, looked up at me, unimpressed. He nodded gruffly and the rep came back to me. “He’ll take you next.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  The TSA
officer finished with the entire family that he’d been checking. The first person in line stepped forward but the officer put his hand up to stop her. He then turned and motioned me forward.

  “I was next in line,” the older woman complained.

  I looked at her apologetically and said, “Sorry.”

  She gave me a dirty look.

  “Madam, please step back. You’ll be called in a moment.”

  “Oh sure, fine. I have only been waiting for twenty minutes but please, take him first.”

  Feeling like a total shithead, I stepped forward. I didn’t blame her for being annoyed. I would have been too. Usually I declined special treatment in the name of humanity however, I had little choice but to accept this one. As the officer was checking my passport I heard someone behind me whisper, “Don’t you know who that is?”

  “Should I?” she said with clear annoyance.

  “That is Jake McKallister.”

  “Who?” she asked.

  “The rockstar.”

  I left for the security screening after that and didn’t hear her reply. I didn’t care. I was just relieved that the man hadn’t said, ‘the kidnapped kid,’ instead of ‘the rockstar’.

  By the time I finally got my guitar back after it went through a thorough inspection, I was very happy to see an airline employee in a golf cart waiting for me. By this point my flight was scheduled to take off in only 15 minutes.

  And lucky for me that I had that cart because my gate was clear around the other side of the terminal. When we pulled up to the gate everyone had already boarded. The crew was waiting on me. Because I wanted to see Casey again, I was holding up an entire plane. That was a dick move. I quickly scanned my ticket and walked down the ramp to the plane. As I entered the cabin, the flight attendant for first class came straight over to me and helped me store my guitar. It was a small plane with only two rows of first class. When I looked up to find my seat, one hundred sets of surprised eyes stared back at me. The whispering started. I quickly took my seat and pulled out my phone and texted “in plane.”

  “Oh sorry,” the flight attendant apologized. “You have to turn that off. We will be pushing back in a few minutes.”

  “Sorry,” I said, sliding it to plane mode and putting it back in my pocket.

  The flight to LA took just under an hour. As we waited for the doors to open a couple of passengers behind me ask for my autograph. I signed several tickets, half a dozen iPhone cases and an assortment of other items. I posed for pictures with a few passengers who were close enough to get them. The people were very friendly and I didn’t mind since I had nothing else to do. Plus I was in a good mood thinking about Casey. I could not wait to talk to her again.

  I had a nearly three-hour wait for my connecting flight in LA. The minute I stepped out of the plane an airport representative was there to greet me. I was whisked into a cart and driven to a private lounge. That was one of the perks of stardom. The unwritten rule was…if you had to ask for special assistance, you weren’t famous enough to get it. Most places I went, people were waiting to whisk me away to a private location. I never complained. It made my life easier, and the life of the other passengers, who were routinely inconvenienced by delays caused from surging crowds and overzealous paparazzi. Still, for a kid from a middle class background, the first class lifestyle annoyed me at times. There was pompousness to the whole thing. If I could just sit and wait for my flight undisturbed in the waiting area like everyone else, I would. But that had become nearly impossible for me over the last two years. So I accepted the rides and the special services offered to me.

  I was taken to a first class lounge and given the ‘VIP’ of the VIP rooms. Whoever got this room tended to be the most famous person in the airport at that moment in time. As long as Angelina Jolie didn’t walk in, I was golden. The minute I closed the door to the rest of the world, I felt myself relax. After spending so much time around crowds and my family and the wedding guests, it felt good to be alone with my thoughts. Despite my job, being around large groups of people made me anxious.

  I spent my time in isolation writing. I needed to get out a song that had been playing in my head for the last few hours. Every word, every lyric was about love and possibility. Casey’s image danced in my head. God, I had it bad.

  Just before it was time to begin the boarding process, someone arrived to shuttle me to the gate. This time I arrived a few minutes before boarding. The minute I stepped off the cart I was spotted. Sometimes people stayed back and gawked but today I was almost immediately approached. A group of Germans asked for my picture and autograph. I tried to politely accommodate as best as I could but the crowd grew pretty large. The airline employee, who had accompanied me, tried to deflect the crowds but was quickly overwhelmed.

  One attractive young woman sidled up next to me for a picture then whispered seductively in my ear, “I want to join the mile high club with you.” I raised my eyebrows and gave her a sideways look. It wasn’t the first time I’d been offered such a thing but it was the first time I had no interest in even entertaining the thought. Casey was the only girl who held any interest to me anymore. I took a second look at the woman and couldn’t help but smile when I thought of Keith’s assessment of my groupie-sluts. My brothers thought I sought out these types of women but in reality, they approached me. The truth was I had never put any effort into wooing a woman…until Casey came along.

  Over the intercom I could hear a call that first class on my flight was boarding. With the help of the rep, I tried to disengage from the crowd but they were not letting me pass. Soon the airline employee was behind the crowd and no help at all.

  “Sorry, I have to board now,” I stated as I tried to push my way toward the gate. No luck. People kept pushing pens into my hand…kept asking for selfies. I put my hands up and said, “Sorry, I have to get on my flight.” Still I was not allowed to pass.

  Finally a gate agent came up to the crowd of people and said, “We are boarding. Please let our guest by or the flight will be delayed.”

  I started to make my way forward when someone grabbed my guitar from behind. “I’ve been waiting!” he replied angrily. I stopped and turned. A man in his thirties was trying to pull me back. Jesus Christ! This was getting out of hand. I felt my heart rate start to rise.

  “Let go,” I demanded forcefully to him.

  He didn’t release me. I pushed at him to let me go but he yanked harder on my guitar, knocking me off balance. I stumbled backwards. Then a young guy who was wearing a US marine’s baseball cap pushed through the people and grabbed the man, forcing him off me.

  “Back off!” the guy shouted. “Everyone. Back off!” As if by some miracle the crowds parted and I had a clear path to the gate. I turned to the guy who helped me and said thank you. He just waved it off, still gripping the offending guy’s wrist. I walked straight to the flight attendant and handed her my ticket.

  “I’m so sorry,” the woman apologized. She looked horrified.

  I nodded. I was still shaken by the encounter but I didn’t want to show it. I walked down the ramp, trying to put distance between the mob and myself. My heart was beating wildly. That was frickin’ ridiculous. I got onto the plane and immediately was lead upstairs. Today of all days, I was incredibly happy to be flying on a 747 with a second floor first class so I wouldn’t have to deal with all the people coming on.

  Once the flight had taken off I finally allowed myself to relax. What had happened in the terminal was excessive and crazy but it was becoming more common than I liked to admit. I always prided myself on my independence and not needing bodyguards. But I’m in a different place now than I was when I first started my career. Back then I was more of an oddity…still in my teens…the kidnapped kid who had released an unexpected hit song called Dare. But there was no respect back then, only pity. I was viewed as a one-hit wonder and not a serious musician. And if I was recognized, people usually kept their distance, probably because they were not entirely secure
in my sanity.

  As that one hit song turned into many, the fact that I’d been kidnapped became less and less important although it was always there, like the white elephant in the room. Instead of being mocked as a one hit wonder, all the sudden I was hailed as a child prodigy by the powers that be in the music world. With more success came an increase in the crowds. The fear and pity people once reserved for me turned more toward admiration for my musical abilities. My admirers felt freer to approach me. But I was always still able to move around freely without assistance.

  That all changed with the release of my last album a little over a year ago. It spawned four number ones on the Billboard charts and was the top selling album of the year. In addition, a song I wrote and sang for a movie soundtrack also became a huge hit. All the sudden I was catapulted into mega-stardom and found myself, for the first time, as a full-fledged celebrity. Overnight, it seemed, I was a household name, and not just for getting myself kidnapped. To be known for something positive and of my own choosing was liberating. I was no longer just someone’s victim. People started to look at me differently. I was a rockstar…riding the wave of success. Pretty soon getting around became more difficult. Fans started approaching me in large numbers and they were getting progressively younger and louder. Women and girls were throwing themselves at me. I slowly started coming out of my shell and my confidence soared. Through it all, I’d tried to stay grounded, although I’d be the first to admit to being a spoiled asshole from time to time.

  My thoughts returned to Casey. I wondered how she would deal with all this. I certainly wouldn’t willingly put myself into this madness if I wasn’t getting a direct benefit from my fame. But what benefit would Casey get? Nothing. It wasn’t the same situation when I was with Krista. She was already famous. She was used to the cameras and the crowds. Was it fair to subject Casey to all this? Probably not…but it was beyond my control. Casey would have to make that decision for herself because, after last night, I was all in. Casey was now running the show.