Being Sawyer Knight

by Nicola Haken

  “Coming up to three years. I trained with her. She’s a cool boss to have and a pretty good friend too.”

  “She sure is. Don’t know about the boss part though. I imagine she’s quite the hardass.”

  “Ha! Let’s just say you don’t fuck with her,” he said and I liked him instantly. “But seriously, mate, she’s saved my arse so many times.”

  “How so?” I questioned and then quickly backtracked. “Hey, sorry, man. None of my business.”

  “No worries. I don’t mind discussing stuff. I am who I am. If people don’t like it, they can get fucked.” Now I was really starting to like him. I admired his attitude to life. “Let’s just say I was blessed with shit parents. They kicked me out last night. Had nowhere to go, so Elle arranged for me to come here with her.”

  “Shit. Sorry, dude.”

  “Don’t be. I’ll sort myself out. Always do.”

  “So what’d they kick you out for?”

  “They found out about my second job.” I looked up at him in the mirror and he drew his bottom lip, which was pierced on both sides, into his mouth as if to reign in his smile.

  “Second job? You don’t just work for Elle?”

  “I’m also an actor and model,” he said, cocking an eyebrow. Why would that warrant his parents kicking him out? “For a gay porn company.” That would be why.

  “You’re fucking with me?”

  “Nope,” he grinned. “It’s only a low budget company. But I enjoy it, you know. What’s not to love? I get paid for doing the thing I love most in the world.”

  “You’re a porn star? For real?”

  “Also known as Kyle Kingston.” Ryder winked at me and if he hadn’t have been styling my hair I would’ve shaken my head.

  “Wow. I’m actually pretty stunned here.”

  I didn’t know why I was so surprised. I’d met my fair share of female porn stars over the years. Maybe it’s because those girls were at planned events – I knew they’d be there and what they did for a living. Or maybe… probably… it was because he’s a guy.

  “Don’t worry, mate. I’m not gonna pounce on you,” he joked. “Unless you want me to,” he added with another wink.

  “Nah, I’m good thanks,” I assured him, laughing him off. “So does it not interfere with your job at the salon? I imagine there’s some clients that would judge you for that?”

  “The only kind of people who would find out would be those who use the adult entertainment industry. You wouldn’t know unless you went looking for me, and out of those who do, most would be too embarrassed to admit it, and the others think I’m a fucking god or something. So no, it’s all good on that front.”

  “And you’re what they call a twink, right?” I’m pretty sure a twink is a young-looking gay guy, lean, slender… pretty boy I guess.

  “You know your stuff! I’m impressed.” Shit. Didn’t think that one through. I decided to stay silent from then on before I really landed myself in it. “I fucking hate that term though. The stereotypical twink is thought to be dumb as pig shit. I like to think I’ve got a bit more going up here.” Laughing, he tapped the side of his head with the end of his comb.

  He’d finished doing his thing with my hair after about twenty minutes. I eyed myself up in the mirror and nodded in approval. He seemed to have managed to control my wayward fringe so it was a thumbs up from me. That damn bit of hair annoyed the fuck out of me when I was on stage. I should really just get Elle to cut it off.

  “Cool. Thanks, man,” I said, standing up from my chair while he started packing his things away.

  “No problem. I’ll go see if Elle needs any help in the other room.”

  “Oh and, twink?”

  “Arsehole.”

  “Good to meet you, buddy.”

  “You too, mate.” Smiling, he turned for the door.

  When he left the room I slumped down onto the leather couch, exhaling a dumbfounded laugh. I sure as hell wasn’t expecting that scenario today.

  Chapter Ten

  “On in ten!” one of the arena men called out before talking into his radio. Our support act, an up and coming band called The Mark, had finished up and the roadies were getting the stage ready for us. We all congregated in the long white corridor backstage, waiting for our cue.

  “Hey,” Elle whispered, sneaking up behind me and tapping me on the shoulder. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” she asked, cocking her head behind her.

  “Sure,” I agreed, following her lead towards the quieter end of the corridor, away from the guys. “What’s up?”

  “Just wondering if Kip has said anything to you? Something’s off with him.”

  “No, not said anything to me.” It wasn’t technically a lie. Kip genuinely hadn’t told me what’d been eating his ass all day. I did know something was wrong with him though. I also knew his weird behaviour started when I told him I was dating Elle. That was a conversation I didn’t have time for just before we went on stage so I pleaded ignorance instead. “I’ll have a word with him after the show.”

  “Thanks. I love all you guys. It bothers me when something’s wrong.”

  “Don’t worry, gorgeous girl. I’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise.”

  “Okay. Good,” she nodded, not seeming convinced. “Knock ‘em dead out there tonight, muscle man.”

  “Always do,” I winked. I brought her in for a quick hug and told her I’d meet her at tonight’s after party. Then I headed back over to the guys, pulling up the collar on my ripped white shirt, and waited for our stage call.

  The sound of the screaming crowd was deafening before we’d even reached the stage. Popping my earpiece in, I stepped out last, following behind the guys. It is the most powerful feeling in the world looking out at the swarms of people shouting, cheering and screaming your name. They were here for us… five ordinary guys with a passion for music. I will never get used to, nor tire, of it.

  “MANCHESTEEEEEER!” Matt called out into his microphone, making the crowd go crazy. Smiling, I hooked my guitar over my shoulder and familiarised my fingers with the strings. “WHO WANTS TO HEAR SOME FUCKIN’ GOOD TUNES, HUH?”

  I started into the song, strumming my thumb over the strings. ‘Forgotten’ was a number one hit for us in twelve different countries back in 2012. It was a guaranteed crowd pleaser, and as expected, they went wild when the first note rolled from my lips. Kip was on keyboard, and usually I would walk up to the rest of the guys as I sang, giving them a high five, sharing microphones, that kinda shit. But when I approached Kip half way into ‘Chasing the Impossible’ his eyes pierced into me like daggers – a silent warning to back the fuck off.

  That was the very first time I’d ever not enjoyed a show. After that moment I sang with a fake smile, yelled to the crowd with false enthusiasm, and wished the set would be over already. Kip’s my best friend and I’d obviously upset him somehow. It concerned me, nibbled away at my brain throughout the entire show.

  “THANK YOU, MANCHESTER!” I addressed the fans before raising both hands above my head. “AND GOODNIGHT!”

  “ROCK ON MOTHERFUCKERS!” Those were Matt’s parting words at the end of every show. Fuck knows why but the fans love it. They love him. They see him as the rebel, the playboy… instead of just a giant twat who’s a few peppers short of a pizza.

  Lifting my guitar off my shoulders, I passed it straight to a waiting roadie off stage. We were all immediately ushered off the stage and towards the back exit of the building where our cars were waiting for us with open doors. Obviously Jake and Neil were assigned to me, and so they were waiting for me by the car. Neil nodded, acknowledging my approach and Jake waited until I was inside the car before climbing in beside me. We were driving away in seconds, all in a row like a funeral procession.

  “Great show, Saw,” Neil said. I think he always felt obliged to compliment us, but really, he must be sick of our songs by now. I’ve caught him listening to Cliff freakin’ Richards before now, so I don’t think we’re exact
ly his taste.

  “Cheers, Neil.”

  I dared a glance at Jake and my breath faltered when I noticed his tie was missing and he’d undone the top three buttons of his white shirt, exposing just a glimpse of his firm chest. I swallowed hard, clearing my throat, and he must’ve noticed because he looked away and turned one side of his lips up into a smile. I don’t think I’d ever seen Jake do the casual look, not since we were teenagers anyway, he was always pristinely dressed in a fine black suit, or jog pants if he was alone in his room – and by alone, I mean with me.

  Pulling out his phone, Jake started tapping numbers on his screen.

  “Have you informed them we’re on our way…yes…good…ok we can give them ten minutes I suppose… thanks, Pete.” He clicked his phone off and then shifted slightly in his seat to face me. “We’ll be going through the front doors to the club. There’s a gathering outside, we can walk you through them. Stop for a few autographs and such.”

  “Sure,” I answered. “No problem.”

  “Elle and Ryder are in the car behind with Kip and Dave. I added them onto the guest list this afternoon.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Ryder?”

  “That’s Claire’s job, not mine. My job is to keep you safe, not discuss your staffing requirements.” His voice was sharp and to the point. Had I pissed him off too? What the hell was wrong with everyone today?

  I turned to the window and stayed that way for the rest of our twenty minute journey. Suddenly, this night wasn’t looking like it was going to be so much fun anymore.

  When we arrived at the club, Sawyer and Neil vacated the car first. My driver, Frank, stayed behind with me until the rest of the guys had arrived too. Once they had, Jake opened my door for me and I stepped out onto the crowded street. Our security team had formed a protective circle either side of us as we made our way towards the entrance of Spur.

  “Sawyer! Sawyer!” Girls chanted my name, reaching their arms out in front of them, trying to touch me.

  “Oh my God, oh my God, Oh my God!” one girl squealed when I strode over to her. “I love you so much!”

  “Love you right back, baby,” I said, giving off the wink it seemed every woman adored. “Hey, Neil!” I called him over, took the girl’s camera phone out of her hand and passed it to him. I draped my arm across her shoulders while Neil took our picture. She clung onto me so tightly, fisting her hand in my leather jacket. Neil nodded, and passed the camera back. “Thank you! Thank you so much! Oh my God I love you!”

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?” I asked, taking the pen she offered as she held out a poster of the band in her other hand.

  “Jasmine!” she choked out. Her hands were literally shaking as she held out the poster. It seemed so bizarre that I could affect someone in that way. It almost makes me feel bad for them.

  “Nice to meet you, Jasmine,” I said, smiling as I handed her the pen back.

  I repeated this process several times as I made my way down the line. I looked behind me a few times and saw the other guys doing the same thing, except for Matt, who of course was practically dry-humping a blonde. When we neared the doors, Jake and Pete put a stop to any more people approaching us and steered us inside the building. We were greeted by the club’s manager and several members of his own security team, who led us up to the private floor.

  The music was loud and energetic, and when we arrived upstairs people were already half-wasted and dancing. It was an exclusive party – invite only. On this occasion invites were sent out to everyone who had helped out with our UK leg of the tour and our friends too. By friends, I mean acquaintances – mainly other celebrities and musicians. Unless it’s someone you’ve known since you were a kid, there’s no such thing as a true friendship in this business. On top of those, there always seemed to be a scattering of girls wearing barely more than their underwear at these parties. I’m pretty sure most of them are Matt’s ‘friends’.

  Drinks were flowing freely. One of the perks of this game, you don’t have to do jack shit for yourself. I hadn’t even made it over to the table in the corner before someone had plied me with two bottles of beer. Personally, I’m a whiskey drinker, but beer would do just nicely as a starter.

  “What are you sitting down for?” Matt hollered over the raucous music. “Have you not seen the amount of pussy out there? Come on, dude. Get your ass out here on the floor!”

  “Count me in!” Daz sang.

  Daz has been an on-off relationship with a girl called Dana for the past five years. By the excitement in his eyes over the word ‘pussy’ I assumed they were going through an ‘off’ period. Gavin’s also got a girl, but he just likes the chase. He’s happy to buy chick’s drinks and chat them up with the others but he always goes home alone. Matt… well I doubt anyone will be able to tame him.

  “Just waitin’ on Elle. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Whatever, man,” he dismissed, waving me off with his hand. He was gone as quickly as he came, Daz and Gavin following behind, and then I spotted Elle in the distance. She waved, letting me know she’d spotted me, then she shimmied over to my table in one of the shortest black dresses I’ve ever seen.

  “You forgot to put your skirt on,” I teased. She slapped me on the arm and then gave me the middle finger. Smiling, I took a swig of my beer and saw Ryder, Jake and Dave approaching.

  “Have you talked to Kip yet?”

  “Sorry, gorgeous girl, not had a chance yet. But I will before the night’s out.”

  “Fuck me, I think I just saw Parker fucking Emerson over there!” Ryder screeched, making himself comfortable beside me. “This place is fucking amazing!”

  I let out a small laugh. Places like this didn’t blip on my radar anymore. Sad really. I kinda miss ‘normal’. I miss being able to blend into a crowd, enjoy time with my friends without being watched. Hell I even miss simple things like taking a twenty out of my wallet and handing it to a barman.

  “How do you go about getting a drink around here?” Ryder asked.

  “Just head up to the bar, tell ‘em what you want. You don’t need money.”

  “Sweet!”

  “How come you’ve never mentioned him before?” I cocked my head in Ryder’s direction while Elle scooted closer to me on the plush bench seat.

  “We never really talk about the salon. It bores you, remember?”

  “Sure, but it sounds like you’ve done a lot for him. That must mean he’s important to you. I thought we shared shit like that.” Wow. I sounded like a teenage fucking girl.

  “He’s a good lad. Hard worker. Crazy fun too. I knew you wouldn’t mind me bringing him with me and he’ll have sorted somewhere to stay by the time the tour is over.”

  “Course I don’t mind. He’s seems nice enough. Never had you down for someone who’d employ a porn star though,” I joked, raising my bottle to her.

  “He told you?” She sounded surprised but then seemingly thought better of it. “Of course he told you,” she tacked on, shaking her head and smiling. “You should check out some of his movies. They’re hot enough to make me want to grow a dick of my very own.”

  “You know, I sort of admire him. Such a young guy yet he seems to know exactly what he wants out of life.”

  “He wants to be happy, that’s all. Sure, that’s what we all want, but too often we let what other people want for us hold us back.” Ain’t the damn truth. “But not Ryder. He doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

  Jake and Dave, drinks in hand (sodas of course), came to sit with us then, and our conversation about Ryder ended.

  “So, Dave,” I started, “How’s the divorce going?”

  “She’s a fucking psycho,” he said, offering his usual answer. “Says she’s entitled to seventy percent of the house because she did the interior fucking design. Stupid bitch.”

  Dave’s divorce has been going on for months, and it often leaves me wondering how you could possibly feel such a way about someone you once loved. Unless
it wasn’t really love. How do people even know what love is? I sure as hell don’t. It’s not like you get a badge, or your nose turns blue or anything. There’s no proof it even exists. It’s just a word people toss around too often that usually ends up causing pain. Or, as in Dave’s case, excessive debt.

  Ryder came back over to our table and put his beer down before sitting on the plush red stool opposite to me.

  “The people here are pompous fucking twats,” he grumbled. “Seriously, does no one know how to use manners anymore?”

  “You’ll find most people in this business are like that,” Elle said.

  “But not all,” I added, feigning offence.

  “You’re kidding right? Bloody hell, Sawyer, you are the king of all miserable shits!”

  Hmm. Yeah, she was probably right. So I let it go.

  “Why do you invite these kind of people? We should just go some place else,” Ryder suggested.

  “Not that simple I’m afraid. You saw the effort it took to get us in here right?”

  “Yeah I guess,” he agreed. “Shame though. I know an awesome club not too far from here. Spiral. I used to come up here a lot when my grandma was alive. I’d come stay with her when shit got too bad at home.”

  “Spiral?” Jake butted in. “I know that place.” He did?

  “Amazing, right?”

  “We might have time to sort something out. I can arrange something with my team if you want to go, Sawyer?”

  What the hell? Jake didn’t do spontaneous. Ever. That was another thing I missed though – spur of the moment.

  “Sure,” I said. Taking another swig of my beer, I used my free hand to start texting the guys to tell them to come to our table. “What about Claire? She won’t be happy.”

  “She never is,” Jake said, rising to his feet. Every one of us, except Ryder who hadn’t had the pleasure of getting to know Claire yet, laughed.

  Ryder went to find a toilet and Elle and I talked while we waited for Jake and the guys to get back. She asked me if the flights to LA had been arranged and I felt like a giant dick because I’d forgotten she was coming with me. Problem was, I’m not going straight to LA anymore. I’m taking Jake to my house in the Lakes. Fuck. I decided I would tell her in the morning, but as yet hadn’t decided if I was ready to tell her about Jake coming with me.