Chapter 17 Alexander #2
“The truth is, this tour has taken its toll on me, and I’m exhausted.
But I never want to let you all, my fans, down.
” Another cheer erupts. “I appreciate that you’ve come to see a full show, but I don’t think I can make it to the end, so I’m wondering if I can make a deal with you all.
Would it be okay with you if, instead of performing the last four tracks, I give you the world premiere of my new song, Stolen Moments, that drops on Friday? ”
The screams have me reaching for my in-ear monitors. I shove them in, not to hear the music and the clicker that keeps me in time, but to protect my eardrums from bursting.
A warm feeling brews in my chest.
Thank God they agree that this trade-off will be a win-win for everyone.
A crew tech rushes on stage with a stool as Andy switches his electric guitar for an acoustic guitar. Freddy maneuvers himself out from behind the drums and moves across to the percussion stand.
I hoist myself up on the stool and grab hold of the mic stand, sliding the microphone in the holder. My heart sounds almost as loud as Freddy usually does on the drums while I wait for everyone to get ready.
Was this a good idea? Other than the band, my team, and a couple of people from the label, no one has heard this song live. What if they don’t like it? What if everyone who’s heard it is wrong, and the people who really matter, my fans, hate it?
My head turns to Freddy as he nods at me, setting off the clicker in my ear. No backing track to accompany us. Just Freddy on percussion, Andy on acoustic guitar, and me on vocals.
I take one final breath as Andy plays the opening chords and I say a little prayer.
Please don’t let me fuck this up.
Paul’s voice hits me like a fire hose as soon as I come off stage. It immediately extinguishes the pure joy I felt from the insane reaction to performing Stolen Moments for the first time.
“I can’t believe you performed Stolen Moments,” Paul shouts at me as Rob guides us straight to the waiting car.
“What was the alternative? Stop the show completely? You already told me we had to go ahead with the show. Despite me wanting the day off, despite the paramedics telling us that I needed rest.” My body tenses up as I reach for the seatbelt and strap myself in.
“We had a whole plan to launch this track—which I didn’t want to put out, by the way, you did—with the DSP’s, Spotify Billboard in Times Square, Apple Music takeover.
And now, we’ll likely have lost all of that coverage, thanks to your decision.
” Paul reaches for a bottle of water, opening it and squeezing it tightly as he gulps from it.
If he wants to go there, then hell, am I ready to go there.
“Well, I wouldn’t have had to resort to that if you’d actually postponed or canceled the show.” The tension in my shoulders moves to my head, causing it to start throbbing.
Paul’s forehead crinkles as his eyes narrow.
“Sure. We cancel the show. You’re left footing the bill. Not only for what it costs to keep this machine running, but for all the refunded tickets.” Paul crosses his arms, crosses his legs, and lets out a disapproving sigh.
The disapproving sigh, the condescending tone, all of it acts like a red flag to a bull.
“First, I’d only have to pay back the advance to the promoter. Second, that’s why we have insurance, in case things like this happen. Third, anyone would think this is your money, not mine. It’s like you care more about the money than me.” My chest rises and falls in rapid succession.
How fucking dare he.
“That’s not…” Paul leans forward, but I cut him off, indignant.
“I haven’t finished. If you keep pushing me, there’ll be no shows. What happened this morning wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t kept pushing me, and I’ve had enough.”
Paul falls silent, as if he can sense what’s on the tip of my tongue.
I’m tempted to say it right there and then, but we’re still twenty minutes from the hotel, which would give him time to fight his cause, and I need to weigh my options. What would I do if I actually fire him?
One day, I tell myself, my parents will work out how to use FaceTime properly.
“Alex, baby.” My mom’s chin greets me as I answer her call. Their departure gate is visible behind her. My dad says hello, out of shot.
Thankfully, Lucy was able to pick up a new iPhone to replace the old one. So I don’t have to do this on my iPad and carry it around the suite. My old iPhone lays on the table, its cracked screen staring back at me. A glaring reminder of what unfolded this morning.
“I’m okay, Mom, I’m okay. You know not to believe what you see on social media.” My hand reaches for the back of my neck, as I look out of the window.
“I know when you’re lying to me, Alex, you always rub your neck when you lie.” My mom’s face finally appears on screen. Her nostrils flare.
Why must she insist on doing video calls?
It’s so much easier when she can’t see me, can’t read my body language.
“I’m exhausted, Mom. I just want to get these shows done and go home.” I drop my hand from my neck and let out a yawn to help sell the narrative.
“Are you sure you can’t come back tonight? We can wait for you here, pick you up?” She attempts to give me a once over.
“I could, but I just want to get them done and out the way. That way I can take a proper break from everything.” My thoughts drift to the skatepark and just being free to ride my board once again.
Oh, how I dream of that life.
“Well, your father and I will be there in a few hours. You rest up and we’ll see you when we get to the hotel, okay?” Her face disappears off the screen again.
“Okay Mom. Love you. Love you, Dad.”
My dad’s face reappears next to my mom.
“Love you, son,” they both respond in unison before hanging up.
I tap my phone into my hand as I peer out the window.
The argument with Paul in the car continues to play out in my head.
Maybe I should speak to my lawyer, John, to get the ball rolling and explore my options.
But that only addresses one of my problems. Christopher is the other.
And a lawyer isn’t going to provide a solution there.
In fact, hiring people to help me with Christopher is what got me into this mess in the first place.
I stop tapping and hold the phone up to my face to unlock it—intending to call him—when I remember that I don’t have Christopher’s number. When Lucy updated my phone, the last backup was from a week ago, before all this started.
Rob had knocked on Chris’s door for me when I got back, but there was no answer. And he didn’t pick up when I tried to call his room on the landline.
I want to apologize to him.
To tell him I never should have let the team go through with compiling the dossier on him.
How amazing the response to Stolen Moments was tonight.
Just have him hold me in his arms again.
I’ve already lost Samuel forever. I don’t want to lose the first guy I’ve truly cared about since. But there’s nothing more I can do. Nothing but wait and hope that Christopher reaches out. That he will forgive me.
My stomach gurgling is a stark reminder that not only have I not eaten anything all day aside from a packet of nuts, but that room service is taking forever. My gaze drifts to the side table where the packets are stacked, weighing up whether to have another when a knock comes from the door.
“I’ve got it,” I say, almost running to the door as Rob reappears from the bathroom.
“Finally,” I say opening the door.
But it’s not room service that greets me.