by KL Shandwick
The promoters took over the organization for the tour, so most of the liaison was through them. Exactly a week after Iria’s story broke, I climbed on the tour bus with Flynn, Craig and Simone for my first tour experience. I was as nervous as hell because I knew it wasn’t going to be easy living with a bunch of people I hardly knew. And then there were the other guys in the band to deal with.
Or avoid, as it were.
Flynn had insisted we had a bus of our own and paid for it out of his own pocket from the tour. Craig wasn’t as wealthy as Flynn. I was surprised at that because even although they were in the same band, Flynn earned way more because of the royalties he received for his role as songwriter.
Bernie appeared to try hard to redeem himself with Flynn, but Flynn wasn’t having it. Anyone close to them could see that their relationship was strained. In public, Flynn was the seasoned professional, who waited patiently while Bernie said his piece and ignored him completely in private.
By the time opening night arrived, I was excited. I couldn’t wait to see Flynn perform live. The band’s first stop was Baltimore. We arrived early afternoon and had five hours until show time, so we were taken directly to the venue. I’d never been to a large rock concert before, and the first one Major ScAlz had was at Pier Six Pavilion.
By the time the guys reached the stage, their crew had obviously been working for many hours. Sound checks and positions were walked through, and once they had finished, we were all led backstage through a maze of corridors to their dressing room.
Long platters of food were placed on white linen-clad tables in the green room, and I realized when I saw them that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Simone and I went straight to the table to grab some food. Excitement ran through me at the thought of watching the guys play from the vantage point of where roadies and band members got to enjoy the concert: side stage. While I was eating, Tyler showed up with two girls and disappeared into a room off to the side from where we were sitting.
“Who’s that with Tyler?”
“Who cares?” Simone shrugged her shoulders.
When I looked confused, she raised her eyebrow and exhaled in a long exasperated sigh. “Groupies, Valerie, they’re groupies.”
Even though I’d heard about the reputation of bands on tour, I was still shocked at Tyler’s blatant behavior. We’d only been there a few hours. Both girls looked about the same age as me, and I felt sick that they were with someone like him. From the way he spoke, he appeared to have no respect for himself never mind anyone else. I had the urge to go and warn them how gross their idol was. It took a lot of mental restraint not to do that.
I had the horrible thought, What if they were inexperienced? I shuddered because if that were the case I doubted they’d receive the same attention that I had with Flynn during my first time.
“Still on the love list this week I see?” Tommy said as he came up next to me. Sarcasm distorted his face with the smirk he gave me. I ignored him and continued to fill my plate with food.
“Don’t look so smug honey. See how you feel when you’re left out front until we’re all done being blown after a gig. They won’t let you back here until we’re all… relaxed. We’ll see who feels so sure of themselves after that.”
“Why don’t you go and fuck off, Tommy. I could use some entertainment,” I’d thrown back. Tommy rolled his head back facing the ceiling and laughed loudly. Flynn instantly turned in search of me and left the group he was talking to.
Bending to kiss my ear, he whispered, “Are you okay?”
I nodded and gestured at Tommy, “Tommy was kind enough to remind me what an asshole he is, weren’t you, Tommy?”
“Speaking of assholes did you know that your man has a thing for anal? We used to swap notes about the anal rides we’d had on tour, isn’t that right, Flynn?”
“Enough, Tommy, get the fuck away from her.”
“Touchy, Flynn, I think I struck a nerve there… or was it a gland?” he said smirking wickedly.
“No, Flynn, let him talk. He thinks he’s embarrassing me. You and I know differently.”
“You think? You have a lot of explaining to do, Flynn.”
I’d been thankful for the interruption of Dennis, the PR guy who’d entered the room at that point. His arrival couldn’t have been timelier because the look on Flynn’s face was murderous. Dennis waved a clipboard and the band members stopped what they were doing and went to listen to what he had to say.
Less than half an hour before they were due on stage, Simone and I were ushered out and led to our seats for the performance. When I saw a handwritten roadie sign that said:
Reserved For Band Members’ Wives, Girlfriends and Guests
My heart pumped quicker. It was hard to comprehend that I was one of those chosen few.
Once seated, I shook my head in disbelief as I stared out around the massive auditorium and saw all the tiny heads and bodies that had gathered in one space to see the man I loved. Settling down in the front row nearest the stage, I pulled out two of my cameras. Simone’s eyes went wide at my serious hardware. “Oh God, Flynn has his own personal paparazzi,” she chuckled. I giggled at her comment and sat patiently waiting for the show to start.
Focusing my camera at the audience, I began to record some images of the crowd and wondered why it seemed strangely quiet considering the number of people in the vast auditorium. No one was shouting or screaming like they had when I’d watched concerts filmed for TV, and although there were thousands of people present it wasn’t particularly full at that point.
The opening band came on, and the atmosphere changed considerably. The crowd politely joined in when the band interacted and their music was loud. If I’d heard any of their songs before they weren’t memorable. The concert venue still had tons of empty seats and the floor space was half empty. I took some shots of the band called Fireburn, but personally, I’d never heard of them.
Ten minutes from the band’s scheduled appearance the hall was transformed. The seating filled up, and the floor space suddenly came to life with hordes of music lovers. Every seat was occupied and the massive setting buzzed with anticipation.
On stage, guys in black outfits ghosted across the stage, placing drinks and checking equipment and once the last roadie had vacated, the whole concert hall fell into darkness instantly. This coincided with an incredible roar of appreciation that seemed to build in at the back of the venue and rush forward to the front, as the crowd responded to the impending appearance of the band.
Within seconds, Tyler’s bass blasted out from the massive black speakers that were stacked on either side of the stage. The vibrations rumbled through my body and resonated in every fiber within me. My mouth and fingers tingled and I realized the excitement running through me was adrenaline.
Fans immediately swarmed in from both sides congregating as close to the catwalk part of the stage as they could get. They screamed hysterically, everyone chanting in unison. Arms held above heads swayed to the music or waved in the hope of catching the attention of one of the band members.
I concentrate on the followers because I knew that once my attention was on Flynn everything else would pale to insignificance. I wanted to experience the music as a fan before I experienced his performance as the man who held my heart.
The reactions of some were extreme from fainting and sobbing to screaming and singing along. Most fans were bobbing up and down caught up the frenzied pace of the song, hypnotized by Flynn’s voice and fast flowing lyrics he sang.
Occasionally, I found one person who stood completely enthralled, oblivious of the claustrophobic huddle of bodies surrounding them, while I saw another standing with his eyes closed. I knew he was simply just feeling the beat. He didn’t need a visual performance to appreciate the genius he was listening to.
I’d taken about forty frames when I swung my camera lens in the direction of the stage, and my heart almost stopped at the sight of Flynn. Dressed in his everyday attire of jeans, white
t-shirt and red Chucks he should have looked like my Flynn, but up there on stage, he seemed completely different. He was magnified by the huge live video feed behind him. I looked up and saw two more screens on either side of the stage and the enormity of his fame hit home. Flynn was a worldwide superstar, and his popularity grew daily. And by the look on his face, he thrived on it.
Swaying his hips Flynn clutched the mic and ran his hand down the microphone stand as if he were caressing a beautiful woman. My eyes darted back to the female fans that were in awe as he sang his heart out to them. Singing everything from fast, raw, rock tunes, to softer rock ballads note perfect, he smiled widely. I could see why he commanded the level of adoration he received. He had the ability to make the audience feel he was singing just to them. That was a real gift.
When Flynn sang “Thinking in Black and White”, he knew exactly where I was in that massive hall. He turned and ran up the small ramp directly beside us and caught my wrist as I reached out to him over the security bar.
His concentration was effortless as he sang, let go of me and played his guitar, negotiated the stage, and grabbed my hand again. Before he let me go for the final time, his mouth brushed my fingers and he mouthed, “I love you.” He ran back to the center of the stage grinning, while the complex little riff Craig played led to the bridge of the song.
If I’m honest, I missed the rest of the song because it had taken everything I had in me to control the positive energy running through my shaking body and to still my haywire heartbeat. Excitement and arousal went hand in hand. Flynn’s sex appeal was contagious. He was appealing to most of the people in front of me, and that gave me a moment of fear for the future. I wondered if I was mad to contemplate even trying to make him happy.
Self-doubt began to creep in and suddenly the happy faces in front of me became potential enemies and people who may make Flynn not want me someday. I fought the feeling and lifted my camera. They said a camera never lies, so I’d begun to record the people who had made the crowd so animated by the music they played.
Tyler wasn’t a good subject. I only captured three images. He seemed like a one trick pony because he only struck repetitive poses and he wasn’t as confident on stage as his personality would have one believe.
Craig was a natural performer like Flynn, but his stage presence needed some work. With a bit more experience, I was sure he could be much better than he was. Tommy… he looked like someone possessed behind his huge messy-looking drum kit, his long black curly hair swung in a frenzied haze as sweat poured from his brow. He made me uncomfortable to look at him.
Then there was Flynn. My camera clicked incessantly. Each time I pulled it away to watch the man outside the lens, my heart almost burst out of my chest with desire. I listened to his words and stayed behind the camera to capture as many memories as I could from my first rock concert experience.
When the set finally ended, I felt disappointed. Even the encore hadn’t satisfied mine or the crowd’s thirst for their talent. The lights came on, and sadness filled the air, the atmosphere switched from one thick with the pheromones expelled by the crowds, to one of resignation that the high was over.
My heart felt their disappointment, and I considered myself so fortunate I only had a short time to wait to be with Flynn. The fans leaving would have to wait another year for a glimpse of the man I was lucky enough to call mine.
Simone helped me pack away my equipment and after a few minutes, we started to make our way back to our men. We passed the pit where the technicians were tearing their set down and only got about twenty feet further before we were stopped in our tracks by security.
“Sorry. ladies, no wives or girlfriends for an hour after they’ve come off stage.”
Simone tried to push past the huge burly guard with the knife-proof jacket,
“Bullshit, get Craig Southers. This is Flynn fucking Docherty’s girlfriend, and I’m Craig’s, you moron. I’ve been on two tours and never heard of this before.
“New tour rules I’ve been told.”
“Who the fuck said that?” Simone asked.
“Bernie Laker. I’m just doing my job, ma’am. If you ladies would like to go back and sit over there, I’ll make sure you get some refreshments while you wait. Bernie said there were to be no spouses or girlfriends present for the meet and greet sessions during the tour.”
Simone shook her head, “Well, I’ll be giving Bernie a ration of shit as soon as we get back there,” she said but resigned herself to waiting. No matter what argument she gave, once Bernie had spoken, everyone worked his instructions to the letter, or so it seemed. Turning back, we took our seats again and waited for them to let us in to the meet and greet room. Simone muttered under her breath, but as I had nothing to gauge this by, I accepted that someone would come and get us when they were ready.
“This is fucking humiliating. I’m not having this. Wait until the guys hear what Bernie did to us. Flynn’s gonna bust a blood vessel.”
“Listen, Simone, maybe Bernie wants confrontation with Flynn, so perhaps we should play down the fact that we were excluded from this part of the night and not feed into what he wants.”
Simone smirked, “Fuck there’s no flies on you, Valerie. I’d have gone in there and created havoc. You’re right that would just have fed into his sick little game. I think you’re right. A watch and wait approach will have him seething if he gets no reaction,” Simone said as she jokingly rubbed her hands together in evil glee over the idea of how to play Bernie at his own game.
Chapter 33 ~ Working it out
It was over an hour and a half by the time Craig’s girlfriend finally persuaded one of the security guys to ask Craig to switch his phone on. We were still waiting for access to the dressing room, and Simone had been texting Craig from the moment we’d sat down again. Admittedly, I was a little confused as to why Flynn or Craig hadn’t found us when we hadn’t showed after the gig, but I’d sat distracted by the images I’d taken from the concert. I hadn’t realized how long we’d sat there.
Ten minutes later, the guard came back looking more than a little uncomfortable. Bernie said you’re free to go back there, but I’d think about that, it’s not pretty in there. I don’t think you ladies are going to like what you see.
Simone pushed off her seat and stood up before jumping the short distance down to the stage level. She turned to look up at me. “Come on, Valerie, I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I’m going to see for myself,” she stated as she turned to look in the direction of the dressing room.
Once I was down beside her, we headed to find everyone. When I pushed the door open, the first person I saw was a young girl giving Tyler head. I was mortified, but I knew I had to ignore it if I wanted them to believe I was capable of staying with Flynn. I wasn’t happy that Flynn was comfortable around that kind of exhibitionism. My head wouldn’t accept that he’d be tolerant of the raw indecency of their public display while knowing I’d be arriving at any moment. Or was it that I was too prudish for this?
My eyes quickly scanned the barely lit room, and my heartbeat faltered in shock when my eyes found Flynn. Slouched down on another sofa, he was bare-chested with his pants undone, and he had passed out. Further along the same big leather couch, Craig also appeared drunk, and he was naked from the waist down.
A naked blond girl was lying tucked into Craig’s side with her head on his chest and a leg cocked over his one nearest to her.
“What the fuck is going on?” Simone flung her arms out wide and screamed at no one in particular as she stomped over to Craig and whacked him hard across his face. The sound was so loud it made me flinch. Craig groaned and rolled his head to the side, but he didn’t wake up.
The girl in his arms pulled away from him and straightened up a bit to look at Simone, “Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she said, her face distorting angrily.
“I think that’s my fucking question, he’s my fucking boyfriend you whore,” Simone yelle
d hysterically, her temper rising with every second we stood there. “Get the fuck off of him,” she shrieked, as she pulled the girl by the arm and dragged her away.
Rising to her feet, the girl grabbed Simone by the hair, and I thought mayhem was going to develop, but Tommy stepped forward and caught the girl’s wrist to stop her from doing any real damage to Simone. “Enough, you got what you came for; it’s time for you to leave.” Tommy nodded to a guy I’d never seen before, and he took care of throwing her out of the room.
Tyler turned bleary-eyed and gave Simone a contemptuous smirk then rolled his head away from her as the girl on her knees continued to work his dick in and out of her mouth, “What the fuck did you expect? You think these guys can ignore all the lure of knowing there are hundreds of girls prettier than you that want to fuck us? That’s a pretty naïve assumption on your part don’t you think?”
I’d only been in the room for a couple of minutes and was trying to get my head around everything I saw. Inside I’d wanted to scream, the debauched scene was beyond my comprehension. Simone was arguing with Tyler. They were cursing and name calling, while I stood silently trying to assimilate the situation before me.
My rational side wouldn’t allow me to think for one minute that Flynn would have made such a stand to his band mates about me, and then had sex with someone else, but I couldn’t deny his appearance on the couch. But appearances could be deceptive. Am I so naïve I never saw this coming?
What did I really know about Flynn? Martin’s stern and protective planning around him and I sprang to mind, but it was quickly contradicted by all the beautiful words in the songs Flynn had written about me. Confusion and hurt flooded my body and collected heavily in my stomach. It made me feel sick. My emotions were changing inside as quickly as I scanned the images I’d taken of the band’s concert a few minutes prior to entering the room.
For a moment, I almost allowed myself to accept that I’d only seen one side of Flynn and wondered if his public image was, in fact, more true to life than he’d admitted to me. Instinct and reason pushed that thought aside. At the very least, I’d known Flynn wasn’t stupid enough to let anything happen while I was in the same building.
