Rocked in the Dark (2 page)

Trying to remember where the turn was to find the elevators that would take me back to my room, I wandered a bit, unsuccessfully. I gave up and dove into the din that was the casino floor, looking for a sign or a staff-member.

What I found was a middle-aged couple dragging about forty kids and as much luggage around, seemingly as lost as I was.

The woman stopped dead in her tracks and yelped. “Oh my gosh! Oh, wow! Ed, don’t you know who this is?”

The flash of recognition in her face switched on my game face automatically. A fake smile spread across my face and I patted my hair to make sure it looked okay. “Hi.”

Her mouth gaped open. “Gosh, I can’t believe it.” Ignoring the children slowly dispersing through the crowd, she slapper her husband on the arm. “Ed! This is little Max from that show I liked.”

I cringed inside. Any pleasure I might have gotten from being recognized died. She didn’t know
me
. She wasn’t excited to meet
me
. She remembered Max King, the character I played on
King of Hearts
when I was a pre-teen.

The husband peered at me through fogged glasses. “She don’t look little to me.”

I snorted out a laugh. The man did have a point. Most of the country had last seen me as a skinny fourteen year-old. All freckles and bony knees. So many years later I’ve filled out a lot, in good and bad ways, depending on who you ask.

“Ed, that’s rude.”

I shook my head and took the woman’s offered hand. “Don’t worry, I didn’t take offense. What’s your name?”

“Margie. Margie Walton. It’s a real pleasure to meet you. I watched your show every week. Used to sing along and everything, even though I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.

My next smile was genuine. She seemed sweet, and after the shit day I’d been having so far, a little sweetness suited me just fine.

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Walton.”

She giggled. “Oh, gosh. Call me Margie. We practically grew up together.”

I nodded and looked at her closer. Behind the exhausted eyes and cheap clothes, I saw she was right. Margie was probably only a few years older than me. But her life was so different from mine. Where she was on vacation with her family, I was starting over – again. Clawing my way up from the bottom and hoping to make something of myself again before it was too late.

“What are you doing here, Max – I mean, Julia? On a trip?”

“Nope. Working. I’m in rehearsals for a tour.”

“Oh, that sounds exciting.”

“I hope so.”

“Must be great to get to see so many places, go all over and do whatever you want.” She smiled and then sighed as she noticed her brood was all but gone. “Have no one to worry about but yourself.”

“I love my job, but it’s not perfect.”

She nodded, with a look of real understanding on her face. She grabbed the back of a little boy’s shirt as he went running past. “Nothing ever is, I suppose.”

Truer words were never spoken. As I watched her reorganize her family, I wondered which of us was happier. She might wish she had more free time and no one to worry about. But the thing is, when you have no one, there’s no one worrying about you either. I’ve spent most of my life surrounded by people who were paid to take care of me. But none of them loved me. And when my career floundered and the money dried up, they disappeared like Margie’s kids when her attention was turned. But those people didn’t come back. Didn’t giggle and fling themselves at my legs with joy. Didn’t look at me with the love I saw in Margie’s kids’ eyes.

A lump formed in my throat and I excused myself.

“It was great meeting you. Have a wonderful time in Vegas.”

Margie grinned at me. “If you end up playing in my town I’ll get a sitter and make sure I go.”

I pulled a card from my purse and handed it to her. “Call this number for my management. I’ll have someone set aside tickets for you.”

“Really? Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

She was about to say something when one of her kids fell off the suitcase she’d been climbing and began to wail.

I chuckled and turned around, ready to begin my search again. Instead, I found myself looking at Becca.

“That was really sweet,” she said, as we watched Margie and Ed finally manage to get their family moving again.

“Part of the job.” I eyed her. “Why are you following me?”

She smiled. “I get it. You’re the tough girl. Fine with me.”

I frowned.

“Just wanted to tell you the venue manager says the power will be out for thirty minutes. But as an apology they’re offering an open bar upstairs.”

I was torn. On one hand, I really wanted to go back to my room and be alone. But I wasn’t even sure how to get there, and maybe a drink or two would cheer me up, or at least distract me for a while, even if I wasn’t really looking forward to spending time with those people. And there might be a sign on the way so I could find the elevator.

“All right,” I finally said. “Take me to the booze.”

TWO

In the five minutes it took for Becca to lead me to the balcony bar overlooking the casino floor, the party had clearly started without us. She played hostess, introducing me to everyone I didn’t know. Joe was there, but on the phone. The cute guy I’d noticed watching Becca was Dex. And from the way she brightened just saying his name; they were really into each other. He had a British accent, but it wasn’t strong, as if he’d spent a lot of time in the States. Quiet guy was Matthew. He nodded at me then went back to staring into his beer. Rick, happily, was nowhere to be seen.

I spotted my mother a few tables down with the suits from the label. She looked fine for the moment but there’d be another blow up soon. That was inevitable.

After ordering a drink I slid down the bar away from the group a bit and found myself next to Steve, the band’s guitar tech. We chatted briefly about my vintage Gibson and the horrors of shipping the precious instruments. He was incredibly knowledgeable, and as a bonus, seemed to have never heard of me before.

Yes, it was a tiny blow to my ego, but it meant he was willing to actually talk to me like a real musician. Most rock guys who encounter me think I lip sync and pretend to play. But I learned the piano in first grade and have managed to gain at least a passable ability to play everything I’ve ever tried.

I used to get annoyed at the assumptions, but they’re understandable. The height of my fame came from a freaking family show, after all. My big hit number on
King of Hearts
was a song about naming a dog after a boy my character had a crush on.

So I couldn’t blame people for pre-judging, but it was nice to avoid it for once. Steve, also, in a manly man way, gave me all the gossip about Dream Defiled. Know your enemy and all that.

Eventually Dex and Becca came down to join us and it was fine. We complained about the power outage, shared stories of traveling to Vegas. The lovebirds had just come back from a week in the Caribbean. I was jealous.

My last boyfriend and I hadn’t gone anywhere nicer than a chain restaurant for dinner. Of course, we were fifteen at the time. Since then all my interactions with guys had been brief and nothing close to what I’d call dating. But that was my choice. I had too much to do, too many things to accomplish to waste time flirting and getting my head messed up by some idiot. A few nights together with no awkward mornings-after was how it went, and I liked it that way. Most of the time. But seeing the warmth and connection between Dex and Becca reminded me of meeting Margie, and I wondered…for a moment.

Then I order a shot of tequila and got the hell over myself.

Once everyone had a few drinks I decided I might be able to spend the next few months with these people. Dex was hilarious, silly and flirtatious in a way that made it clear he was mad about his girl. Steve knew so much music trivia it made my head spin. Joe finally got off the phone and came over to chat, and he was nice and charming.

At one point the guys got into some deep conversation about their set list and I turned to Becca. I felt bad for being a little rude to her at first, so I made a point of asking her about herself. She told me her father is Daniel Hall, which impressed me. He was a really talented producer before he left the business. She also told me a really funny story about her working for the band, getting fired and rehired in an airport. There’s nothing like the music business for drama if you want it.

“Speaking of touring, where’s the other band? I thought there were three acts?”

“Oh, there are,” she replied, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Playology? Do you know them?”

“Heard the name.”

“Yeah, well they’re cool. You’ll like them.”

“Why aren’t they here? Wasn’t the point of this group rehearsal sing-along thing for everyone to get acquainted?”

“Yeah. They’re finishing an album. Behind schedule, apparently.”

“Ah, gotcha.” I didn’t envy them. It was a huge amount of pressure to record an album, but a million times worse to be late delivering one. “So they’re grounded?”

Becca laughed. “Pretty much.”

“Oh well. Their loss.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a lot more upbeat and friendly than you seemed at first.”

“I get that a lot. I’m sorry. I was just stressed.”

“And annoyed with Rick?”

“That, too. Where is he, anyway, off somewhere kicking puppies?”

“Probably groupie hunting. I think you yelling at him bruised his ego, so he’s off finding some fawning young thing to stroke it for him.”

I barked out a laugh at her choice of words. She furrowed her brow and then blushed deeply.

“Pun intended?” I asked through my giggles.

Becca covered her mouth, but a series of high-pitched squeaky sounds came through, which made me laugh even harder. And then we were both dying, bent over, hysterical. No, it wasn’t all that funny, but the moment broke a lot of tension I hadn’t even noticed.

There, in the bar, surrounded by people we were going to spend a lot of time with, we just laughed. Too far gone to explain what was so funny, we just let it happen, ignoring the puzzled looks and enjoying an all too rare light moment.

I thought, this is what it would be like to be normal. Have girlfriends to hang out with and laugh with. To just be. But, as nice as it was, that’s another girl’s life. Not mine. Mine is work and struggle. And worth it. Most of the time.

About an hour later we finally filed back into the theater. Joe was stumbling and poor Becca looked like she was ready to pass out any second, having to be practically carried in by Dex, who remained surprisingly sober. He’d nursed a single beer the whole time we were in the bar. I had a nice buzz going, but nothing I couldn’t work with.

On the way inside, my mother sidled up alongside me and twined her arm in mine.

“What do you want,
Laura
?” I asked her.

She smiled broadly, but under her breath, replied, “A daughter who isn’t such an ungrateful little bitch.”

I beamed back at her. “Charming. Seriously, just tell me what is it is and then leave me alone.”

She raised her voice louder so the others could hear. “Just a little chat with my favorite girl.”

I rolled my eyes. “They get it. You’re the best mother ever. Spit it out.”

Her smile twisted into a grimace. “Fine.” She smoothed her hair and adjusted her skirt as we walked. “You need to be nice to these people. Dream Defiled is the biggest band in the world right now.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

“As far as you’re concerned, they’re the Beatles, got it? You need this.
We
need this. Don’t fuck it up by being yourself.”

“Great pep talk, Mom.”

“Grow up, Julia. And stop being so selfish. This isn’t just about you.”