5. Elle
elle
. . .
J ustine paces in the hall and wrings her hands together. I’ve never seen her like this—on edge and agitated. Usually, she’s the cool, calm, collected type, and has the biggest smile on her face. There’s something definitely wrong, and with Plum about to go on stage, I need to figure out how to fix whatever the issue is.
I slip my hand over her arm and tug her lightly toward Plum’s dressing room. Before I can close the door, a crew member from the show stops me. “They go on after the commercial break.”
“I’m aware. We’ll only be a moment.” I shut the door and twist the lock to give us as much privacy as we need and turn toward Justine. Her chin-length hair sits high on top of her head in a ponytail and the blonde is now purple. Wynonna and Priscilla dyed theirs as well—something the three of them didn’t tell me about until I saw them this morning. Of course, they hadn’t needed to actually utter the words, “we dyed our hair” because the evidence was right in front of my face. I don’t know how I feel about it and told them we can discuss it later. Their band's name is Plum, but that doesn’t mean they have to embrace it.
“What’s going on? Are you nervous?”
Justine shakes her head and then nods. “Yes, and no.”
Yep, it’s clear as mud now.
“You’ve performed before. Is it because we’re on national TV?”
“Do you remember when I told you I had run away at fourteen?”
I nod and study her face for any sign she’s about to throw a wrench into things.
“I’m scared my dad will see me on TV and try to come find me.”
“Was he abusive?”
Justine looks into my eyes and then at the ground. She doesn’t need to tell me anymore. I step closer and place my hands on her shoulders. “If we hear from him, we’ll take action. For now, let’s go out there and perform. Show the world who Plum is. Okay?”
She sniffs and mutters a very quiet thank you. I don’t pretend to understand what her life was like when she lived on the streets. I can’t imagine having a parent who mistreated me to the point where I felt my only option was to run away. For Justine to be in that situation, especially at fourteen, and persevere to where she is now—it’s remarkable.
Justine and I head back to the hall, where Wynonna and Priscilla are waiting. A different crew member tells the girls to follow them. I trail behind, unwilling to let them navigate their appearance all on their own. Faintly, I can hear Helen of the Helen Show , talk to the audience about Plum, and how they were discovered at Trixie’s (slight exaggeration)—one of the oldest bars in Hollywood—during an open mic night. I’m thankful Quinn and I were there that night because I have a feeling Plum is going to make it big. Their recently released single is already climbing the charts, and Dana Cantu from Sinful Distraction has approached me about writing songs for the girls. As a manager, when my bands come together to create music, it’s magical.
The curtain lifts, and Priscilla is right on cue with the first note. I watch as her drumstick taps the snare, and then Wynonna comes in on bass. Justine steps up to the mic and, for one brief moment, I wonder if she’s going to freeze. Her fingers strum the guitar strings, she opens her mouth, and the melody comes out.
Justine sings “Last Day”—Plum’s hit song. It’s the one Quinn and I heard her sing when we saw her at Trixie’s. As soon as the girls signed their contract, I had Justine record an acoustic version as a bonus track on Plum’s EP. It’s a heartbreaking song about how you can lose everything but come out smiling at the end. The more I listen, the more I come to realize Justine is singing about her own experience, and while the song is sad, there isn’t anything sad about her life now. Plum is going to go places.
Plum nailed the musical version of “Last Day” I put on all the streaming platforms. Within a day, they had over a million downloads and radio stations lit up my phone line for interviews. The media tour the girls are embarking on is very similar to the one Sinful Distraction did when they first started. Only, I have a bit more experience this time, and I’m not afraid to ask for more when it comes to my bands.
Justine ends the song. Everyone in the audience is on their feet, clapping. Helen walks over to Justine, places her arm around her shoulders and tells the cameras the name of the song Plum played and where to find their music. As soon as they go to commercial break, Helen heads toward me.
“I know it’s not planned, but I’d like to interview the girls. I have a pre-recorded segment we can cut after the commercial break if they’re willing.”
“Of course.” I lean slightly and glance at the girls, who seem extremely giddy with excitement. “They’ll love it.” Helen thanks me and as soon as she’s gone, the three girls squeal and come to me.
“Oh. My. God!” Priscilla says as her hands go to her head. “We’re going to be on TV.”
“You already were,” I point out, even though I know what she means. “Helen is going to ask you some questions. Some may get personal. You’ve seen her interviews before, so you know what to expect.”
“She’s going to ask if we have boyfriends,” Wynonna says.
“Do you?” I question.
Wynonna gives me a one shoulder shrug to match the smirk on her face. I focus on Justine, leaning in and asking, “Are you okay with the interview?”
“You’ll protect me, right?”
“Always,” I tell her. “We won’t let anything happen to you.” As soon as she turns toward the others, I pull my phone out to leave myself a note: Security for Justine. Thankfully, she’s of age, as are the sisters, but that doesn’t mean Justine’s father won’t come looking for his piece of the pie. I’ve heard stories, and most rarely turn out well.
A crew member helps the girls put their mics on and then shows them where to sit. I stay backstage where I watch the show. After the commercial break ends, the camera pans over the girls, and Justine looks nervous.
“Wow,” Helen says to her audience and the cameras. “Wow!”
The girl's giggle, and it’s heartwarming to see their innocence.
“I’m sitting here with the gals from Plum: Justine, Wynonna, and Priscilla. First, I want to start with Wynonna and Priscilla. I read your parents named you after two iconic women. Is this true?”
“Yes,” Wynonna says. “Our dad is named after Johnny Cash, and our mom is Patsy. I guess it was only fitting they’d name us something musical as well.”
The audience laughs.
“Now, your single “Last Day” went live over a week ago and went right to number one on all streaming platforms. How have things changed for you since?”
“Other than performing for you and doing interviews, our teachers are still giving us homework,” Priscilla says. “Maybe you can write a note for us?”
Everyone laughs this time. “I’ll see what I can do,” Helen says.
“What’s it like writing your own music?”
“Cathartic,” Justine says. “To transform your thoughts into a song and add a melody to them—it’s the best feeling in the world.”
“Well, your fans definitely agree.” Helen has a screen behind her that shows Plum's cover. The three girls stand on the street, with a car behind them. The photographer laid down on the ground to capture the image. It gives the sweetest girls I know, edge.
Helen sends her show to commercial break and the girls exit the stage. I wait for them in the hall, and we all go to the green room. It’s a quick decompress session, and then we’re heading out the door and into the stretch Escalade.
“Did we do okay?” Justine asks.
“You girls were amazing.” My phone beeps and I look at the screen. The Instacart order I placed for Ben has been delivered. I do not know if he’s eating the food or not, but I know he won’t go out and shop for himself. He hates the grocery store, and even shopping on the apps. Ben always deferred that task to me.
As soon as we get back to the studio, the girls grab their things and meet Johnny and Patsy in the waiting room. As much as they wanted to come with us, there aren’t a lot of plus ones added to a nationally televised performance.
When I get to my office, I find Quinn sitting at my desk. “Don’t even think about it,” I tell him as I hang my coat up.
“You have no idea what I’m thinking.”
Pfft. “I can only imagine. Scoot.”
He reluctantly gets out of my chair and sits in the one across from me. I start up my computer and wait for my emails to load. Plum has more media requests, and a new email says URGENT—TOUR.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head and open the email. After scanning quickly, I tell Quinn, “Loving Light wants Plum to tour with them.”
“That’s good, right?”
“It’s amazing. It means we need to hurry and finish their album, but yeah. This is going to be huge for them.”
“Let me know if I can help.”
“I’m definitely taking you up on that. We have a few songs that need some background vocals, and they could use another guitar. Dad is coming in to work with Priscilla on her technique, and Dana wants to write a song with Justine. Plus, I have Talking Til Dawn coming in to start their record. Grandpa is right. I need help.”
Quinn chuckles. “As if you’d let anyone take over. You’re a control freak.”
“Liking things done a certain way doesn’t make me a freak.” I throw a wadded piece of paper at him. “Anyway, what are you really doing here?”
“Nothing,” he says with a small shrug. “Just thought I’d stop in and see how you’re doing.”
“No complaints,” I tell him. “Have you seen Oliver lately?”
“No, you? I feel like Mom is hiding him from us.”
I can’t help but laugh. Our mother isn’t hiding the baby. She’s probably plotting on how to use Ollie to convince us all to have our own babies. “Did you get him a surfboard yet?”
Quinn beams and sits up. “It’s so freaking cute. I had to special order his wet suit and because he’s growing, I ordered one in each size. I’m heading out there this weekend to take him out. You and Ben should come.”
The mention of Ben’s name gives me pause, but I hope I’m able to keep my emotions hidden. Quinn doesn’t know about Ben and me, and I don’t plan on telling him or anyone in my family for the time being. Ben and I need to sit down and talk. “Yeah, we’ll be there. Ben started a new job, but he should be able to break away for a bit.”
“Yeah, what’s up with the new job?”
“Better benefits,” I say. “The freelance work is good because he can set his own rate of pay and hours, but no benefits. Everyone needs health insurance.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Quinn stands and makes his way to the door. “When do you need me in the studio for Plum?”
“Tomorrow. Is that okay?”
He nods. “When is Sinful Distraction recording?”
I flip through the calendar on my desk and rattle off the dates to him. “Will you be ready?”
“Yeah. Ajay is bringing Jamie and the kids out to mom and dad’s this weekend. Evelyn wants to play with Ollie.”
“Are Peyton and Noah coming over as well?”
“Dunno, I suppose. See ya.”
“Bye.” As soon as the door latches, the tears fall. I cry hard, holding my head in my hands. I don’t have much time to cry out my emotion as there are voices outside my door, causing me to stop. I’m at work and need to be as professional as possible. After a couple of deep, calming breaths, I wipe my tears with my fingers and get back to work. As much as I’d love for Ben to join us this weekend, I know he won’t. This just means I’ll have to come up with another excuse. I don’t know how much longer I can keep the secret from my family. My parents are already suspicious. It’s only a matter of time until someone shows up at our house— Ben’s house—and notices I’m not there.