by Riley Scott
Chris let her continue, amused by the train of Raven’s thoughts.
As Raven’s eyes bored into her own, Chris laughed again. When Raven’s eyes widened, she finally shook her head. “Roommate and dog,” she said.
“Roommate?” Raven asked, her dimple showing her mischief.
“Roommate.”
“Female?”
Chris nodded, wishing Raven would drop the subject.
“Our team?”
“What are you really asking?” Chris stopped walking and put her hands on her hips.
“Clearly it’s a touchy subject,” Raven said, her laughter growing. “I’m asking if she’s a romantic interest.”
“She’s my best friend,” Chris said. She let out a sigh, knowing she was blushing and that it was of no use to lie. “We hooked up a few times. I was in a rough place, and vodka helped start it. It was comfortable and safe.”
“Was it good?” Raven asked, nudging Chris’s arm.
“Dammit,” Chris said, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it or even think about it. It was amazing. It’s a strong connection when you already love someone for the role they play in your life. But you add in sex and it gets complicated. That’s the real answer. But that was a while back and now she’s just my roommate. That is all. I think…”
“Oh…” Raven said, dragging out the word as she nodded. Her brow furrowed. “That makes sense I guess. I had to wonder why you hadn’t ever mentioned having a kid or significant other before. But she sounds pretty important to you. I wonder why she hasn’t come up.”
“Maybe I’m just mysterious,” Chris offered with a shrug. “As mysterious as you, even.”
Raven laughed and shook her head. “You’re mysterious, but not near mysterious enough to hide away a kid. And not mysterious enough to keep your true feelings about this roommate of yours hidden for very long.”
“I guess you’re probably right about the kid part but the roommate thing is settled.”
“What kind of dog do you have?” Raven asked, turning to continue their walk.
“He’s a Chihuahua.”
Raven’s smile grew and Chris breathed a sigh of relief that the subject had changed. “I love dogs,” she said, her voice taking on an almost whimsical quality. “I always wanted one.”
“You never had a dog?”
Raven shook her head, her eyes filling with sadness, before looking away. “No,” she said quietly.
“Why not?”
“Didn’t really work with timing and such when I was growing up,” she said, casually waving her hand through the air, as if to ward off any emotion. “And it isn’t really conducive to my current schedule.”
“You could have a band dog,” Chris said, her heart hurting for the girl who had clearly gone through a great deal. “It could be like the mascot and you could all take turns caring for it.”
Raven looked at Chris, her expression torn between wanting to dream about the possibility of having something so playful and full of love and knowing it would never work. “One day maybe,” she said. “When I’m a little more settled and the world doesn’t move at the speed of light.”
“Yeah,” Chris said, working to move the conversation back to a more pleasant space. “One day.”
They walked in silence until Raven asked, “What’s his name?”
“Paco,” Chris answered, laughing slightly to herself about the silliness of the dog’s name. “He was named when I rescued him and I kept the name. I’ve had him for eight years. He’s a good dog. He can get a little hyper and a little too attached to me. But he’s a lot of fun.”
“You’ll have to bring him with you sometime if you stick with us on our way back through Houston in a couple of months,” Raven said. “I’d like to meet him.”
“Okay,” Chris agreed, even though she wasn’t quite sure how long it would be necessary for her to stay on the road.
“So have you given any thought to what it is you’re going to do to work some magic for me?” Raven asked, abruptly changing the subject, as if she could read Chris’s thoughts. “You’ve been here over a week and we haven’t really dug into the meat of it yet.”
“Yes,” Chris answered, knowing that this would be the moment of truth. “If you don’t like what I have in mind, remember that we can always work on something else—something that you’re comfortable with.”
Raven nodded, urging her to continue.
“I think we let this last episode with the underage girl blow over,” she said. “It was bad, yes. But the media seems to already be talking about other things. We’ve waited too long to make a statement. If pressed, I have one drafted that you’ll just have to sign off on—but I don’t think we’ll need it. It would only draw attention back to an unfavorable situation. We’ll work to paint you in a positive light by getting you involved with a charity. You make some appearances and prove that you can—and want to—do good for the community.”
“Okay,” Raven said, her tone hesitant, but she wasn’t shutting Chris down entirely. “What kind of charity?”
“Whatever you’d like,” Chris said. “I think we can find something that you’ll enjoy, something that you feel passionate about, something that needs help…your help.”
“Okay,” Raven said, nodding and seeming satisfied with the plan. “So what’s the statement if it comes up again?”
“We reiterate what you’ve already said,” Chris said. “We can’t backtrack on that. I know you were telling the truth, and we’ll want to remain consistent so that it doesn’t appear that we’re changing our story. We let them know that you had no idea the girl was underage, that she was only nineteen. She wasn’t served alcohol on your bus—she had her own. You did not have any sort of relationship or relations with the girl and you were unaware of the Snapchat video being taken. We’ll offer the reiteration of the story, even though they all know it—in gory detail. And then we will apologize and ensure that every effort is being made to make sure that all after-party attendees are of legal drinking age. We’ll leave it at that and then we’ll do the rest of the image polishing with your charity work.”
“What about the drugs?”
Chris winced. She had forgotten the video highlight of a pipe in the corner. “I think it’s best if we don’t even address that. Basically, if we don’t acknowledge it, we don’t give it legitimacy. Anyone who has seen the video can tell that there are a ton of people at your after-party. It could belong to any of them. We don’t even address it, so that we don’t give their claims a leg to stand on.”
“It was mine though,” Raven said, her eyes clouding.
“They don’t need to know that.”
“Okay,” Raven said, nodding her head. “Let’s move forward. I like you, by the way. I’m good with you being here.”
“Thank you,” Chris said, genuinely touched by the compliment. “I like being here too.”
When they finally made their way back to the bus, Chris glanced at her watch. An hour and a half until showtime.
“Before we all get ready, do you want to have a pregame drink?” Raven asked as they stood in front of the bus.
“I probably should go clean up a bit and let you rest.”
Raven nodded and was about to speak as the door swung open behind her.
“So glad to see you finally made it back,” a busty blonde, dressed in a crop top and miniskirt said from the doorway. “I’ve been waiting and we both know I’m not good at that.”
“Tanya,” Raven said, a playful smile edging up the sides of her lips. “When did you get here? I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it, baby,” she said, winking at Raven before turning and looking at Chris. “Who’s she?”
Chris felt out of place. Nonetheless, she stepped forward. “I’m Christina. I do public relations for Raven.”
Tanya looked her up and down before nodding. “Okay, well have a good night,” she said, waving her away.
Raven looked back, as if she wanted to stop Chris and ask her to stay, but Chris shook her head. “Go have fun and have a great show,” she said, ignoring the way her heart fell as she watched Tanya throw her arms around Raven’s neck and plant a huge kiss on her lips.
“I’ll see you at the after-party?” Raven asked, pulling away from the kiss.
Chris nodded. “Of course,” she said. “After all, I live here.” Her words were nothing but a whisper as she turned away so she didn’t have to see as Raven was pulled inside the bus by a clearly very excited Tanya. She walked quickly, unsure of where she was going. Her stuff, her current life, everything aside from her home back in Houston sat inside that bus, where Raven was no doubt being ravaged by a skanky groupie—or girlfriend. Whatever she was, her message had been clear.
Chris was unwelcome.
Chapter Seven
Sitting on the couch, Paul watched Raven slip into her room with Tanya. The two of them were up to no good. He knew that much. Anytime Tanya came around, it was bad news. But that’s how Raven coped.
He let out a sigh and scratched his head, wondering if he should alert Frank. They had an unspoken rule about letting one another know when something was amiss that might tilt the axis of the regular schedule. He weighed his options, picked up his phone and set it back down. Until he knew more or saw a sign of disturbance, he wasn’t going to rock the boat.
After all they had been through, he owed Raven the benefit of the doubt. Leaning back against the soft, worn cushions, he replayed their history.
Together, they had seen it all. Childhood friends who lived next door to each other, torn apart when she was taken from her mother, they had met again by fate in their high school years. He had never been so happy to see someone again. She was his fellow adventurer, his kindred spirit. In the early years, it had been fort building and camping out in each other’s backyards. As time progressed, the days and nights got rougher. Her crazed environment had brought self-doubt, fear, uncertainty and much pain. Yet, she had stood strong against it all. He had been her safe space, her confidante, her one constant friend.
When it got too bad at her house, she had sought refuge at his. Even as a kid, she had insisted his parents not know she was there. She would sneak in at night, sleep on his bedroom floor and be gone before morning. He had been the only one she told about her mother’s boyfriends’ abusive rages, the syringes, the fridge full of alcohol but no food.
Her insistence to keep her struggles secret had kept his hands tied. While she would confide in him and show him her bruises, she never wanted his parents or anyone in authority to know.
Not that his parents were around enough to know. They had provided him a home and had never raised a hand to him. But they had been absent. He couldn’t have told them if he wanted to. Still he felt the guilt for not knowing how to help. When she was finally taken away, he had lost his best friend.
Raven had been placed in many foster homes. Some were little better than where she had come from, and others were good, but short-lived. They were fifteen when they reconnected. She was living at Home Again, the home for older teenage foster kids until their eighteenth birthday, when they were tossed out into the real world ill-equipped and left to their own devices.
They shared a common love of music and had formed a band. They’d hang out after school, drinking cheap beer they had convinced people to buy for them, playing with guitars and a drum set he got from a pawnshop.
She told him about the men who had taken their touches too far, the times that—even in a home dedicated to child care—she still went hungry or found herself not missed when she wasn’t around. He’d shudder as he listened, hug her tighter and remind himself that, even if his parents didn’t care enough to ask how his day was or even notice if he didn’t come home, he was still comparatively fortunate.
He had always been fortunate enough to have a roof over his head, food in the fridge and freedom to explore life. As long as he had that, he could get the love of a family from his little sister. Even if she wasn’t blood, she would always be his sister—the only thing he knew of family and the only one with whom making music had been more than a passing hobby. It was a way of life. For the two of them, it was survival and it was the one thing that made sense in the world.
He smiled, his trip down memory lane holding more fond memories than dark ones. Whatever the road would bring, he would stay by her side and would fight for her through it all—even if that meant putting up with another visit from Tanya and the havoc she brought.
* * *
Pacing outside, Chris smiled as she dialed her boss for one of her twice-a-week check-ins. Susan had always been somewhat of a mother figure to her, and she missed her.
“Good afternoon,” Susan answered.
“Hey! Good afternoon to you. I just wanted to touch base.”
“How are things on the battlefield?” Susan’s laughter filled the line. They had both agreed this would be the challenge of her career, and Susan enjoyed reminding Chris that she had a tendency to take on the world.
“Going well today. We’re kicking off the campaign we brainstormed last week. How are things back home?”
“Crazy as ever,” Susan answered and Chris could hear the clicking of a keyboard in the distance. True to form, Susan was multitasking.
“Anything exciting?”
“It’s always exciting. You know that…Anyway don’t worry about any of this stuff. You’ve got your hands full as is. Any press booked for the morning?”
“I’ve got someone lined up to cover the photo shoot. I think it’ll be a good event and will serve its purpose in rebranding her image little by little.”
“Mmmhmmm. Good. Good.”
Chris wanted to prolong the conversation but time wasn’t on her side. As usual, Susan didn’t have time for chitchat. “You take care and let me know what you think when you see the coverage,” Chris said and let out a sigh.
“You take care too,” Susan said as she cleared her throat. Chris smiled at the gesture. She recalled the throat clearing mechanism Susan employed often to rein in her focus. “And know that we miss you around here.”
“I miss you all too.” As she hung up, Chris recounted the many times Susan had reminded her that Chris was special to her. While Susan loved all of her employees, Chris knew she reminded Susan of a younger version of herself—of what she could have had if she had taken the time to have a family instead of building an empire.
The thought made Chris’s smile droop. Even though she was having fun, she needed to make a trip home soon to see Susan, to change out her wardrobe and to get her life back in check before jet-setting again. Her clothing options were limited and she was beginning to feel frumpy.
She looked down at her street clothes and decided they would be good enough for the show tonight. Although she had wanted to look special and don her new black leather pants, she shoved the shopping bag into her purse. There was no reason to dress up.
Picking up her phone, she took the opportunity to call Brittany back.
“Hey, stranger,” she teased. “Have you found time to talk to your long lost roomie yet?”
Chris laughed, Brittany’s excitement and silliness putting her at ease. “Yeah, just got booted from the bus by a lover of the rock star, so I think I’m all yours for a while.”
“Lover, huh?” Brittany’s voice practically squealed. “Spill it. I want to know the gossip.”
“You know that my job is to counteract the gossip, right?” she said with a laugh. “I’m supposed to say that all of that stuff is nonsense and that the real story is somewhere in the music.”
“Yeah, save me the PR spiel,” she said quickly. “Tell me what she’s really like.”
“She’s a tough case,” Chris admitted, walking farther to make sure she couldn’t be overheard. Her best friend held the key to the vault of her own life secrets, so she spoke freely. “She is one of the coolest people I’ve ever met, without a doubt. But she’s stubbo
rn. She’s guarded and unyielding in some areas.”
“So she still won’t sleep with you?” Brittany teased. When Chris didn’t respond right away, Brittany laughed. “Ill-timed joke. I’m sorry. Continue.”
“It has nothing to do with whether or not she’d take me to bed,” Chris explained. Brittany gasped and Chris wished again for the ease with which they had once talked about lovers or potential lovers. She pressed on with the conversation, determined to make this about something other than what could be between her and Brittany. “It’s just that she bounces between the real version of herself and the jaded version, like if anything gets too real, it’s just too much for her to handle. And once she’s done that, it’s hell trying to bring her back. If she would just let down her guard for a while and let people see who she really is, I wouldn’t have to fight so hard to get her positive publicity, but she goes back and forth between genuine and amazing to jaundiced and crazy. I’m afraid that at any minute, she’s going to go off the deep end, or come to a show fucked up, or overdose.”
“Damn,” Brittany said. “I’m sorry. I thought you would be having more fun than that.”
“It’s not that I’m not having fun,” Chris said, letting out a long breath. “That’s the problem. When I’m with her, I’m having the best time ever. It’s just that I packed up my life for this. I’ve left behind Susan and you and everyone who feels like family. I’ve left the rest of my clients to others at the firm to help someone who, half the time, seems content going on with her wild lifestyle, consequences be damned. And the other half of the time, she only wants to be helped on her terms and only if I’m partying right beside her. I can’t help but feel like my work might be compromised and like she’s going to walk into another landmine at some point. But I can’t change it. It’s like I’m operating with my hands tied. And I haven’t slept anywhere that doesn’t have wheels in over a week.
“I have traveled across state lines and through several cities. She’s played three shows but the process of show to show is crazy. There are rehearsals, shoots for videos, trainers, choreographers and then the hair and makeup team trying out new looks. It’s a constant cycle when we’re on the road between shows. And then we spend the days checking out local areas whenever we stop. I’ve tinkered around in gift shops, been to more rock shows in the past week than I have in my entire life and I’m partying like a college kid. I feel like I’ve somehow gone off to another reality and I’m not sure how I’m going to adjust once this is all over.”
