Ajay
ajay
. . .
S omeone once said that if you plan to be in the public eye, you have to have nerves of steel. I never understood the meaning behind those words until now.
Hendrix, being our resident gossip hound, has shown up with his weekly supply of magazines and print outs from the web. I don’t know what possesses him to spend hours going through sites or why he wastes his money on the newsstand rags, but he does. He tells us that we need to be in the “know” and prepared for whatever might come our way.
The only thing I want coming my way is my son, even though it seems that the national tabloid for junk wants to paint me as a man who is not faithful to his very pregnant wife. Honestly, seeing the headline and the accompanying picture of my wife carrying out a garbage bag which the writer deems to be my belongings, makes my stomach roll. It makes me absolutely sick that people can post this crap and get away with it. Even though there have been numerous lawsuits against them, the magazines still post stories that are completely fabricated. Sources are protected under the law and that’s all these fake journalists have to say when questioned… they have an anonymous source. I can say with certainty not a single person in Camp Ballard has ever spoken to the media. I’d like to see them try though. I have a feeling the Sheriff might give them a bit of a run around and some made up story about chicken running along the coastline.
Dana, Quinn, Keane and I are lines deep in reading the drama when Elle interrupts us.
“I see I’m walking into another shit storm,” she says as she pulls two chairs into our circle. We’re supposed to be rehearsing, but thanks to Hendrix, we’re fueling our tempers. I barely acknowledge Elle or the woman who sits down next to her.
Elle clears her throat to get our attention. As much as I want to keep reading about the redhead I’m having an affair with, I set the article down on my lap and focus on my boss.
“With popularity,” she starts, “comes drama.”
This would be the perfect time to blurt out something like “no shit, Sherlock,” but I bite my tongue.
“I want to introduce you to Zoey Donaldson. I’ve hired her to take over the publicity side of the business. Moving forward, she will be your right hand when it comes to events and the media.”
“And you’re doing what now?” Quinn asks his sister.
“I’m still going to manage but I’m expanding as well. I’ve signed two bands and one solo act.”
We all knew this day would come. Sinful Distraction was Elle’s building block. If she could make us successful, we knew others would want to be on her team. As happy as I am for her, adding more to her work load will take away the individual attention she gives us.
I watch Quinn as he stares at his sister. Something tells me her signing more to her management group was not something they agreed upon when he joined the group. He’s never really said what his agreement with his sister is, but I have a feeling an expansion wasn’t part of it.
“Hey, Zoey,” Hendrix breaks the tension between the siblings. He goes over and shakes her hand. “I guess you’re taking my job.”
Zoey looks at Elle who is shaking her head. “What he means is, you’ll be the one trolling for misleading articles.”
“Oh,” Zoey seems surprised. “Actually, I’m going to ask that you bring them to me or simply email the link. Of course, I’ll prowl on my own, but won’t be able to catch them all. And depending on the work load, we’re hoping to hire an assistant very soon.”
“That’ll be great,” he says, almost as if he needs someone to help him scour the internet for garbage.
“With that said,” Zoey says, “if something happens where you’ll need me to intervene, it’s best that you come to me right off. My office will be just down the hall from Elle’s.”
“What hall?” Quinn interrupts.
The siblings have a stare down. “I’m in a position where I can rent a floor upstairs,” Elle smiles as she says this, as does Quinn.
“Congratulations. Maybe next time you can burst in here acting happy instead of looking like someone stole your cat. We’re supposed to be a family.”
The last part of Quinn’s statement was definitely meant to hurt Elle. I can tell by his expression he’s hurt that she didn’t tell him the news beforehand. I can see his point, but also hers. Her job is to manage the band and while her brother is our lead singer, she can’t always worry about his feelings.
I clear my throat, getting Zoey and Elle’s attention. “Would this be a good time to tell you that the article Hendrix gave me is utter crap? I’m not cheating on my pregnant wife.”
“Yes, of course,” Zoey reaches for the article. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you thought about selling the first pictures of your child to People?”
“Um…” her question catches me off guard. “I’d have to talk to my wife.”
Zoey seems pleased with this. “Do it and let me know. I’ll set it up. They’ll pay, especially for the exclusive, which means you can’t post any pictures on social media until after they’ve released their cover and story.”
“Seems simple enough,” I tell her. “I’ll talk to Whiskey when I get home.”
“Your wife’s name is Whiskey?” Zoey pulls her phone from her purse and frantically scrolls. Elle places her hand on top of Zoey’s.
“Jamie or Jameson is her actual name. Ajay calls her Whiskey.”
Poor Zoey looks flustered and slightly confused. Personally, I think Whiskey is a cool name. So much so that I’m going to ask my wife if we should use it to name our son. Fat chance she’ll say yes, but I’m learning that right now I get what I want if I give her what she needs.
“If there isn’t anything else?” Elle asks as she stands.
“Well there actually is,” Hendrix says.
“And what’s that?”
“It seems Dana has a boyfriend. We should probably take care of that as well.”
Dana’s breath catches. She looks from Hendrix to Elle and then to the floor.
“I’m a bit confused,” Elle states. “If Dana wants a boyfriend, surely she’s allowed.”
Hendrix waves her off. “No, the tabloids are saying she has one. Zoey should demand a retraction.”
Dana remains quiet in this ping pong match between Elle and Hendrix.
“Hendrix, can you please stop?” Dana begs.
“I’m helping you out.”
“No, you’re embarrassing me. Just stop.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you want people to think you’re taken when you’re not?”
Dana looks away. I’ve never been one to pry, but something tells me Dana is trying to keep whatever she has going on, on the downlow.
“You have a boyfriend?” Hendrix asks his ex.
“It doesn’t matter if I do; you sleep with every girl who bats her eyelashes at you.”
Hendrix stands. He looks at each of us before focusing on Dana again. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know,” she mumbles. With those words, Hendrix walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving us with nothing but an awkward silence.
After a long minute but what feels more like five, Elle tells us that if he doesn’t come back, we can call it a day. I want to raise my hand and ask her at what point do we call it a day? Are we waiting for ten minutes, fifteen? Thirty? A dude really needs some sort of timeline. But I think better of it and decide not to… and no one else bothers to ask her either.
We sit there in silence, no one knowing what to say. When Quinn stands, the rest of us wait to see what he does as if none of us are capable of making our own decisions.
“I’m out,” he says. “It’s too nice out to sit in this room. If any of you want to come to the house and surf, I’ll fire up the grill.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he walks out. I like the idea of surfing and wonder if Whiskey is up for the drive out to Quinn’s.
Keane asks if I’m ready to leave. Since moving in next to him, we try to carpool as much as possible, and for the most part it works out well. We tell Dana goodbye. Even with Hendrix gone, there’s still tension lingering in the air. They have a lot of unresolved issues and are usually pretty good about keeping them out of band business, except for moments like today.
I follow Keane out of the studio and as we walk down the hall, we’re putting on sunglasses and baseball caps. The minor disguise doesn’t always work because fans hang out in front of the studio, but there are times when we can escape the confines of the building undetected.
Today is one of those days. Keane and I walk down the street toward his car with no one giving us even a second glance. These moments are few and far between and I certainly don’t take them for granted.
On the drive home, I text Whiskey and ask her if she and Evelyn want to go out to Quinn’s.
She agrees and says they’ll be ready to go when I get home.
“Looks like we’re going to Quinn’s,” I tell Keane.
“Do you think Dana will go? I wonder if Quinn texted Hendrix.”
I shake my head, “Nope. I don’t know what’s going on with them.”
“It’s odd. They’re definitely not a couple but Hendrix acts like they are.”
“Jealous?” I suggest. “Although from what I understand, he broke things off with her. He’s acting super possessive of her.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s odd. What I do know though is that she’s been seeing someone.”
“She has?”
“Mhm,” Keane confirms as he changes lanes. “I ran into her at the store out by our place.”
“Doesn’t she live downtown?”
“I thought so. Maybe this guy she’s seeing lives in our area.”
“In the burbs?” I can’t help but laugh. “I thought only parents lived out here.”
Keane shrugs. For the most part we keep to ourselves. Each of us has our own life, which tends to be our escape from the crazy band dynamic.
As he pulls into our subdivision, I send a quick text to Whiskey to let her know we’re about home. Of course, by the time I type it out and send it, Keane is pulling into his driveway. Doesn’t matter though because as soon as I’m out of the car, Evelyn is barreling toward me. Last night she ended up spending the night with Harrison and Katelyn so I didn’t get to see her.
I crouch down just in time for her to launch herself into my arms. “Daddy!” she squeals as I catch her. Holding her tightly in my arms, I spin her in a circle just so I can hear her laugh. While these moments just started with her, I know they won’t last long. She’s growing up far too fast.
“So happy that you decided to come home.” I set her down and take her hand in mine. “How was school today?”
“It was good, but Daddy, have you seen Miss Katelyn’s house?”
“I have. It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?”
“Yep, a crab walked right onto the patio last night and scared Miss Katelyn with its pinchers.”
“Oh no. What did Mr. Harrison do?”
“He laughed. I did, too, because it was funny.”
“I bet it was.” We don’t even make it to the house when Whiskey comes outside with her arms full of towels and toys.
“Get in,” she hollers at us. “I need to get to the beach.” Evelyn and I do as she says because the wrath of a pregnant woman is no fun for anyone.