10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Cavalari led Bronx across the wide paved parking lot that surrounded the building where the radio station was located.
There were probably more than two hundred fans already waiting near the entrance hoping to get a glimpse of the guys in Black Ice.
Hopefully, the fact it was just going to be Bronx today wouldn’t piss any of them off to extremes.
The team of guards riding on the other bus exited and waited for orders from Cavalari.
“Let’s move,” Cavalari commanded and the team hurried into position along a metal, chain-link fence that was placed near the building to hold back the crowd.
Cavalari was careful to maintain a safe distance between Bronx and the fans using his muscled arms to insert himself when the situation dictated he do so.
The mass majority of people behaved themselves but there were always a few who became a little too aggressive.
With the crowd growing by the minute, Cavalari was on full alert.
Slowly they inched along the fence. Bronx was attentive in giving every fan a few ticks of his time to greet them.
Considering they’d been waiting for him in the hot sun behind the temporary fencing for several hours, it was the least he could do for them.
But today the gathered crowd seemed particularly itchy to get a piece of Bronx.
That intensified Cavalari’s job and kept his crew on guard to prevent anything from happening to Bronx or to the waiting fans.
Bronx didn’t care much for the meet and greet events, even though his personality and natural confidence were perfect for the task.
He engaged comfortably with the fans, knew exactly how to tease them a bit, and he even allowed them a small amount of physical access, and they adored him for his efforts.
It was a fine line balanced by Cavalari and his seven-man crew.
Today, Bronx had an entire team protecting his ass.
If the rest of the band had made this trip with him, they’d have a lot more guards watching their backs.
Planned or unplanned, the show today belonged to Bronx, and with the number of guards he had protecting him, it meant there was no way anyone would get too close.
Besides a well-lubricated stroke to his ego, feeling this secure also offered him a large amount of relief that he could do this and not be hurt.
Bronx adjusted the sunglasses on his face and kept a steady pace behind Cavalari as they neared the building.
The sun was scorching and beat down on him with the weight of the tour bus.
The brightness made him squint even with the dark lenses protecting his eyes.
Hearing the noise erupting from the people was a nice lift to his spirits, even though the sound level of the screams were beginning to hurt his ears.
The ringing inside his head began again and had him feeling dizzy and a little bit on edge.
Bronx grimaced and shook his head to try and clear the sound but it didn’t work.
Instead, it aggravated the pain that subtlety pulsed inside his skull like a migraine beginning to take hold.
Cavalari moved closer and wrapped his fingers around Bronx’s forearm and squeezed. “You all right, rockstar?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you asking?” Bronx replied.
“You made a face and now you’re swaying on your feet.”
“I’m always making faces, mostly at you, and since when do you notice my foot placement?” Bronx asked.
Cavalari sighed in frustration and pointed for Bronx to keep moving along the fencing.
Two security guards working for the WROX radio station stood vigil at the front of the building to make sure the fans didn’t get out of hand or break free from the fencing and storm the entrance.
The closer they walked toward the building, the louder the fans became.
The scene made Bronx smile but a part of him wondered if the people cheering for him were disappointed the rest of his band was MIA.
Not that it was his fault they were missing.
The burden of that sat squarely in Dante and Ashton’s laps.
“Let me sign a few things before we go inside,” Bronx said close to Cavalari’s ear to be sure he was heard over the screams erupting from the cheering crowd.
He could have sworn he felt Cavalari shiver from his closeness but he shut down the thought before it took root inside his brain.
The chances of Cavalari being into him were slim to none.
He’d long ago given up on the big man ever having a serious attraction to him.
Besides, it was safer when they hated each other because it allowed Bronx a wall to hide behind.
No way did he want to take that particular trip down memory lane.
Everyone had secrets but Bronx was going to do his level best at storing his in a lock box and losing the key.
Cavalari nodded at Bronx and then stood directly at his side with a muscled arm stretched in front of Bronx’s waist to keep the grabby hands from making contact with him.
The rest of the guards took up positions surrounding him to keep an eye on things.
No matter how much security there was, fans would still reach for anything on a musician’s body to get their attention and sometimes that process unintentionally caused them bodily harm.
Even a firm handshake had the potential to end a career if bones were broken from a hand being squeezed too hard.
Then there was the tearing of clothing, scratching at skin, even a cheap shot to the groin to fondle the goods wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities which kept Cavalari and the rest of the team on their toes.
“I love your new, shorter hairstyle!” a woman up against the fence shouted.
“Where’s the rest of your band?” another questioned. Bronx was expecting that one but as he’d been directed, he didn’t answer. He just kept on smiling and signing things as quickly as he could to keep moving toward the safety of the entrance.
“Are you going out on your own?” a tall, lean guy from the back of the group yelled.
Bronx chuckled as he shook his head then handed back a wall poster he’d just finished signing for a girl currently bouncing on the balls of her feet.
Their excitement was infectious and Bronx was feeding off of it.
By the time they reached the front door of the building, Bronx was having trouble hearing some of the women whose voices were in a high-pitched range.
It sounded like they were in an echo chamber.
He saw their lips moving but all his brain registered was the overall din of the crowd, not the individual voices.
He quickly signed the last CD cover, posed for a few photographs, and then stepped away from the fence.
He offered the crowd a final wave as David, the liaison for the interviews, was waiting at the entrance.
David pulled the door open to allow Bronx to step inside with Cavalari closely following.
Bronx removed his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket and gave his eyes a moment to adjust from the blazing sunlight that was bathing the parking lot to the darker interior of the station.
David moved around Bronx and gently touched him to adjust his head into different positions. “Jesus, I swear that bump on the side of your head has doubled in size since I saw you a little while ago,” he said in a hushed tone.
“It’s not bleeding so I think I’ll survive,” Bronx pointed out.
“I’ll let the camera guy know we want only angles of you that don’t put it on full display. They’re usually happy to accommodate special requests like that if you let them know ahead of time.”
“Whatever, I’m not worried about what a lump on my head looks like on camera,” Bronx grumbled, “and anyone who does have a problem with it, too fucking bad.”
There were more people waiting in the hallway for Bronx’s arrival. This group were mainly employees of the station and Bronx did his best to sign everything they shoved at him and posed for the usual promotional photographs before he was escorted into the green room to prepare for the interview.
“I’ll go find someone to fix your face and remove any shiny patches of skin,” David said and then disappeared from the room, leaving Cavalari and Bronx alone.
“Did you hear that? He’s going to find someone to fix your face. That’s great news! I bet you hear that statement a lot,” Cavalari said and then he grinned with mirth.
“Eat me,” Bronx said.
“I’ll take a very hard pass on that generous offer,” Cavalari said while he pretended to be gagging and about to throw up.
Bronx dropped down onto a worn leather couch and ran his fingers through hair. “Did you hear what the fans said? It’s official. My short hair is a big hit,” Bronx said and grinned across the small room at Cavalari.
“It’s hideous, but go ahead and believe what you want,” Cavalari replied. “Lucky for you, it’s growing out.”
“Dickhead,” Bronx muttered under his breath. “It’s not that bad and it is growing out, so you can suck it.”
“Again, I’ll pass,” Cavalari said. “Your dick is the absolute last thing I’d want anywhere near my mouth.”
A moment later there was a knock on the door. Cavalari opened it up and a slender woman with onyx hair against ivory skin, bright red lips, and a nose ring came rushing into the room carrying a large tray of makeup. She introduced herself as Zena and approached Bronx.
“Oh my,” she said, tipping his head to better see the now infamous bump beside his ear. “Did you win or lose this battle?”
“I won, of course, but don’t ask the loser for his version of the beat-down because he’ll lie to you,” Bronx said.
“If he looks worse than you I hope he made a trip to the ER,” Zena said.
Bronx pointed to Cavalari. “See for yourself.”