by Riley Scott
“It’s powerful,” she said. “It’s the ultimate, ‘fuck off, I do my own thing’ anthem, jazzed up a bit with a little bit of fun and made much deeper with the fact that you’re drawing a parallel with the struggles we each face.”
Raven eyed her quizzically for a moment, keeping her eyebrow raised. Finally, she nodded. “I like the analysis,” she said slowly. “Thanks.”
Raven seemed to work hard to keep her tone neutral and her expression cool, but Chris could tell the compliment had meant something. Raven’s eyes shone brighter, despite her tight-lipped nod. Chris shook her head, wishing the rocker didn’t feel such a need—for whatever reason—to shut herself away from showing any emotion. She seemed bitter. That much was crystal clear. What could leave someone with the world at her fingertips angry enough to push away gratitude for a compliment?
Raven had left Chris’s mind reeling. Throughout the rest of the rehearsal, Raven ignored Chris, going on with the show as if no one but the band was present. Chris hoped that would stick. She didn’t want to be the outsider, the one who disturbed the process. She wanted to blend, to become part of the team, at least for the time being until she could handle Raven’s affairs from afar. As it was now, she was on the road for an indeterminate time and was going to have to make the best of it.
“However long it takes to fix it, that’s how long you’ll be gone.” She replayed her boss’s words in her head. Judging by the awkwardness so far, she hoped she could pull out her Wonder Woman skills and right this wrong quickly, so she could go back home and return to admiring the singer from a distance. Currently, Raven was a little like a bear—cool from a distance, but more than a little unnerving up close.
“And that’s a wrap,” Raven said after the last song. “Raven out,” she said dramatically, dropping the microphone from her hands with a smile.
“You’ve got to stop doing that,” her guitar player said, swooping in behind her to grab it from the ground. “I get to listen to the sound guys bitch about it every time.”
“It’s fun,” she shot back as she exited the stage. “I’ve got to meet with Frank anyway and we all know I can’t keep him waiting.”
On stage, Paul the drummer moved close to Raven’s side for a hushed conversation. After a moment, Raven nodded and pulled him in for a hug. Curious, Chris watched the interaction, likening the pair’s interaction to siblings.
“I’m ready Frank,” Raven called out, nodding in his direction.
Chris watched as Frank let out a sigh beside her and she wondered what made him stick around. It couldn’t be the money. He was one of the most sought-after agents in the business and could be with anyone he wanted. But he stayed, taking what could only be described as the ribbing a daughter would give her doting but overprotective father.
He stood and went to meet Raven as she exited the stage.
“How was it?” she asked quietly, but not quietly enough to be out of Chris’s earshot.
“You did great,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I love the new stuff.”
As Chris observed the exchange she tried to piece it together. In order to do her job—and to settle her curiosity—she needed some answers. She needed to cut through the bullshit and find the source of problems, figure out what made Raven tick and determine how Frank and her band seemed to be able to get past Raven’s veil of bitterness. That was exactly what she needed to tap into to gain her trust and show the public a softer side.
Even from an outsider’s point of view, it was clear that Frank and Raven fulfilled something within each other—something that presumably they didn’t get elsewhere. Everything she had seen and read on the band from their quirky social media posts to the behind-the-scenes videos they often shared seemed to suggest the entire band formed a dysfunctional family unit. It appeared to her that Frank also played a role in the family. When they turned to walk in her direction, she had more questions than answers, but figured those would come with time. For the time being, she had a job to do and she was going in blind.
“Let’s all go grab a drink,” Frank said as they approached Chris, still sitting. “We can talk and get to know each other a little bit.”
“Are you going to make me look good?” Raven asked, her mood somewhat softer now, but still holding an edge.
“I have every intention to do just that—but more than that, I’ll help you look good to yourself,” Chris said, smiling and hoping that Raven felt her sincerity. She wanted to do more than offer a publicity stunt. She always wanted more. She wanted to actually help people help themselves.
Raven nodded at her and turned to walk back toward the bus. “I like her more than the last guy,” Raven said to Frank, talking about Chris as though she wasn’t there. “At least she’s not a stammering idiot in a suit telling me to go to church.”
Frank laughed and shook his head. “You’ll have to excuse her,” he said. “She’s a little rough on newcomers, a little untrusting.”
“She says ‘fuck,’ and she’s not afraid of an afternoon drink,” Raven said, continuing her verbal assessment. “She’s not nearly as bad as the guy who said no drinking before a show.”
“Was he Puritan or something?” Chris asked, loudly enough for Raven to hear, several paces ahead of them already.
Without turning around, Raven let out a laugh. The sound rang through the air, making Chris smile. She felt she had made a connection with the woman.
“Something like that,” Raven said. “I’m going to stop by my room. I’ll meet you both outside on the side patio in a bit.”
“She sure knows her way around the place,” Chris commented to Frank as she scanned the area for a patio. Finally up ahead in the distance, she spotted a couple of umbrellas.
“She’s been around this circuit for a while. She knows pretty much every venue big and small and this is one of her favorites. It’s a large venue that brings a crowd of rock fanatics,” he said with a shrug. “In no form or fashion is she new to this. It’s just that lately she’s found herself in a bit of trouble.”
“Why is it all so recent?” Chris asked. “I mean, was she always this heavy into partying?”
“Partying, yes,” he said, his gray eyes darkening and his worry lines increasing. “They all are. Partying is one thing, but this, not so much.”
“Do you know why it’s been a recent thing?”
The question hung in the air as Frank shook his head. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but shut it quickly. One thing was clear. Whatever Frank knew, it was between him and Raven. His loyalty kept his lips tightly shut. And whatever he knew, she was going to have to either figure it out on her own—or just do her job the best she could while being kept in the dark.
Keeping pace with Frank, she let him take the lead when they reached the patio. He crossed the concrete and tapped gently on the concession stand window.
“We’re closed until six,” a woman’s voice called, before briefly opening the window and glancing out. “Oh, hey Frank,” she said, her smile stretching across her weathered but kind face. Her blue eyes lit up and Chris noted how she looked like someone’s good-natured grandma. “How have you been?”
“Pretty good,” he said, smiling at her in return. “Could we grab a few beers?”
“Anything for my favorites,” she said, “I’ll bring out a pitcher in a minute. Y’all go ahead and take a seat.”
“They must retain concession stand workers pretty well,” Chris noted as they took a seat.
“That’s not a concession stand worker,” Frank said, smiling at her. “That’s Connie. She’s the general manager of the grounds here. She just pitches in and helps with all set up. That’s kind of the Texas way. But I’m sure you’re used to that in Houston.”
“I get it,” Chris said, the statement about Texas warming her heart. “I’m from Texas—born and raised. My dad was also from Texas and that’s kind of how he approached life. Her kindness reminds me of him.”
Nostalgia washed over her, tak
ing her back to when her dad was just a phone call away and when her favorite singer was a muse in her mind, instead of a mouthy pain in her ass. Shaking the thoughts aside, she followed Frank’s gaze to Raven walking up to meet them.
“She really is a good girl at heart,” he said quietly.
“I know she is,” Chris agreed. “I just want her to know it as well.”
“You and me both,” he said, before directing his attention to Connie as she brought them out a pitcher and glasses.
As he thanked her, Raven took a seat next to Frank and directly across from Chris. The intensity with which she stared was marred only slightly by the way her eyes glassed over after a second. She opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but suddenly burst into a fit of giggles, proving what Chris knew to be true. This was going to be unlike any job she had ever taken on.
Chapter Three
Staring across the table, Raven took in the woman who had flown in to save the day like a superhero. She wanted to hate her, but her bright eyes and unassuming smile made that difficult from the get-go. Chris ran her fingers through her perfectly straight and chicly styled blond hair and Raven watched, even more perplexed.
She had to admit that instead of hating her, she was intrigued. There was an innocence behind the southern drawl that had drawn Raven in like a bee to honey. She wanted to know more about her and she wanted to talk to her one-on-one. She wanted to see what made those eyes light up, to be the one behind that smile. But she also knew that doing so would be playing with fire. This woman wasn’t on her side. She was the enemy. And even if she was attractive, she was the one who had come—like they all did—to change her, to make her more presentable.
“So what’s on the agenda?” she asked, giving her curiosity a break. Pouring a beer, she glanced from Christina to Frank, waiting on one of them to speak. “Isn’t this the part where you want to know all about me, where you ask me a million questions and then tell me to straighten up?”
The hesitancy in Christina’s eyes made her look like a wrangler, gently approaching a wild beast. Raven wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or insulted by the look. She chose to take it as a compliment and proceeded. “I’ll save you some of your questions,” she said when neither of them spoke up. “Yes, I drink. I occasionally smoke, if the drinking has hit me just right. Yes, I’ve done a drug or two in the past.” She had grown used to the lie. “No, I’m not addicted to any substances. Yes, I occasionally sleep around, but so does any woman and it’s not anyone’s business who I fuck. Yes, I sleep with women—and the occasional man, if it suits my mood. No, I don’t plan on changing. Yes, I’ll continue to say ‘fuck’ in my songs and yes, I plan on having a drink or two before I hit the stage. Did I cover it all?”
“I already knew all of that,” Christina said with a shrug. “But I didn’t come here to badger you with questions.”
“Why did you come here then?” Raven asked, wanting nothing more than to be left alone—or to have met Christina in some other circumstance. As she watched Christina lick her lips, her mind went wild with what it would feel like to have those soft and plump, pink lips pressed up against hers.
“I came here because you need public relations help,” Christina said, breaking through Raven’s musings. “I came here because I rebuild images. It’s my job. I don’t change people. I don’t give orders. I don’t make any adjustments other than rebuilding a flawed image.”
“Make me look good then,” Raven said, the words coming across more like a challenge than anything. “Make me look good, but don’t ever ask me to change.” She lifted her glass in a mock “cheers” effort and then gulped it down before pouring another. “I refuse to change. I am who I am and that’s what I tell all these girls to hold true to. People look up to me for that. And it’s not about that, but it’s about being the voice of being who you are. Since I rose to fame, that’s what I’ve preached. It’s what I’ve always believed. I’m the spokesperson for the weirdos, for the girls with guitars, for the kids who don’t quite fit in or know where their place in this world is, for the people who—even as adults—just don’t quite fit the molds of society. I’m that and I won’t ever change. I’m a firm believer in letting those quirks define you, not in letting society change you. For that reason, I’ll be great with measures that make me look good, as long as looking good doesn’t change who I am.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to change,” Chris said slowly. “You’re the woman who has entranced millions, the one who has helped girls across the nation deal with heartache or find their own identity or their own unique way of expressing themselves. You’re the face on posters in countless rooms, I’m sure, and millions have fallen in love with your music and your form of expression. I wouldn’t change that.”
“You sound like you think you know me,” Raven said, tilting her head and casting her eyes over the rims of her aviator sunglasses to look at Chris.
“No,” she said, offering a smile and deepening the moment of eye contact. “I just know some girls who benefitted from your music and I want to make sure you stay true to that image, to that pedestal that so many put you on.”
For a second, Raven nodded her head, but the agreeable behavior wasn’t to be long-lived. She still didn’t like this. She had heard too many sugarcoated speeches from PR reps to buy this. Even though this one seemed sincere and even though her sea-green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, she couldn’t let herself be duped into believing that it was different. They all started like this—grand promises and soppy words. But if you gave them an inch, they took a mile and before long, they wanted to parade her out into the world in a dress, at the White House, hosting parties at schools, you name it. This wasn’t going to be any different. Without another word, she pushed her glasses back up on her nose.
“Do we want to talk about guidelines or boundaries?” Frank asked after letting the silence hang for a moment.
“Boundaries?” Raven asked, turning in her chair to face Frank.
“Yeah, boundaries,” he said, nodding decisively. “After this stop, you’ll both be staying on the bus, which even though it’s luxurious and has some private space, we all know it can get a little cramped. Chris, you will be pleasantly surprised though. I have been in the industry a long time and I have spent a lot of time on buses. This one is the best there is. Custom built. If you were imagining bunk beds and weird couch sleeping situations, you don’t have to worry about that. We have rooms and it’s probably the biggest bus you’ll see on the road, ever—at least in our time.
“While you will have places to retreat to and to recoup, it is cramped. Pete, the bass player, and Joe, the lead guitar, agreed to bunk up in order to give you a room of your own, so you will have space. Paul, the drummer, will keep his space. But when I say you have your own room, I’d like you to imagine a closet. You will have your own closet-sized space, but you will have your own space. I just want you to be prepared for how you will be traveling. It’ll give the two of you a chance to connect. It always makes for better PR when someone knows your goals and motivators. Nonetheless, Raven, if you want to set times where you need your own time, let’s lay those out on the table, just so we don’t have any disruption or frustration.”
Raven glanced sideways in Chris’s direction, considering the thought. She had set times when the last PR guy wasn’t to be allowed in her bus, like right after a show when she was entertaining those she had selected as VIP guests or taking a minute or two to come down from the exhilaration of performing. This woman seemed to be able to take things in stride though and Raven wanted to see if she was really up to the test. She clenched her jaw, weighing her answer. If this woman really was going to last, which Raven doubted, she was going to have to be all in or all out. Raven was up for the challenge of making her run for the hills—as long as Christina was up for the challenge of sticking around.
“She can come and go as she pleases,” Raven said, addressing Frank, and purposely leaving Christina out of the discussion.
“It’s going to be her home for the next little bit anyway, or for as long as she chooses to stay. At her discretion. Whatever she thinks she’s game for seeing or experiencing, she’s welcome to join in.”
Frank’s eyebrows knitted together in obvious concern, but Raven ignored it. If there was something she didn’t want to see, she was going to have to be smart enough to keep her distance at times. He gave her his infamous “no nonsense” look and she smiled in return, reading his unspoken warning.
“Don’t set traps for her,” she could hear him saying, as he had said time and time again to her about various “helpers” they brought along.
“It will be fine,” she said, answering before he could voice anything. “I think she’s up for it.” She winked at him, before turning back to face Christina.
Christina’s demeanor hadn’t changed and she remained smiling. “I’m up for anything,” she said, her true feelings easily slipping through the false bravado, as her words squeaked out an octave too high. “I wouldn’t have taken this job if I wasn’t up for a challenge or an exciting ride.”
Raven knew that the words held a jab at her, but instead of being offended, she was pleased that, if nothing else, this one could match her wit with a little backbone. Even more than that, she was happy that Christina didn’t think it would be a walk in the park. That had been a downfall of many before her.
“Let’s do it, Christina,” she said, reaching across the table to shake on the deal.
“Call me Chris, please,” she said, returning the handshake.
As her fingers entangled in Chris’s, she felt an electrifying shock race through her body, leaving every nerve tingling. Chris’s hand gripped hers tightly and she briefly considered hanging on to the touch, but relented and let go.
Frank cleared his throat, bringing Raven out of the moment. She felt a flush sweep across her cheeks and was thankful for the large lenses of her sunglasses.
