Chapter Four – Maggie
Mom called off her stocking job to go over the contract with me and the NDAs we all had to sign—which was a big deal. Mom never called off work. We needed the money too much. Keeping a roof over our heads and food in our bellies, not to mention all the other bills that came with owning a house and having two daughters.
Turned out, I’d get paid a base salary just by being a part of the band. Once we recorded an album, I’d get a stipend from that, along with a fraction of the profits of every song or CD sold. Same with touring, merch sales, and all that. Even the base salary was enough that, if I sent half of it home, meant my mom wouldn’t have to work her night job.
She could quit it and spend time with Cleo. She could relax and read a book or something. I didn’t know. Whatever moms did when they weren’t working constantly.
I’d started out angry and embarrassed that Cleo had taped me while I was singing in my room—but now… now I was excited, maybe even a little grateful for the stinker. This really was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I couldn’t pass it up.
Even if it meant I had to lie to Alexa about it and forgo college for a while.
So, at one AM, with Cleo fast asleep on the couch and my mom sitting across from me at the kitchen table, I signed the contract and my NDA, while my mom did hers and Cleo’s, making it official.
I was no longer Maggie Stiefer. I was, simply, Angel.
That was going to take some getting used to.
“What am I going to tell Alexa?” I asked once all the papers were signed. I knew I would have to lie to her, but what could I tell her that wouldn’t invoke a thousand and one questions? She didn’t get into Black Sacrament; she was more of a country girl. Though Cleo was their biggest fan, I knew some of their stuff from association with my little sister.
But I didn’t know them, and I couldn’t forget that, soon enough, I’d be seeing an awful lot of them. I’d be far, far away from the world I knew, from all of the people I knew, thrust into the spotlight as Angel.
“I don’t know, honey,” Mom said, and she reached across the table to grasp my hand and squeeze it gently. “The NDA was all about not telling anyone you’re Angel. It didn’t say anything about not telling your best friend about signing it in the first place.”
“So, what? Tell her that I signed an NDA, but that I can’t tell her what that NDA was for?” Honestly, I wasn’t even sure Alexa would buy that. She was nosy, and she’d never let me hear the end of it once she found out I wasn’t going to be rooming with her this fall after all.
Mom shrugged. “I think it’s all you can do. Your hands are tied, so to speak. Maybe, once some time goes by, you can talk to Ramona and see about telling Alexa the truth.”
Yeah, I could do that. Still, I felt bad about skipping out on college with Alexa. Even if I went to school after my stint with Black Sacrament, Alexa and I wouldn’t be in the same grade anymore. She’d have made other friends while I was away. Things would never go back to the way they were, and that hurt.
But… I guess that was the point. We were eighteen, adults now. Life was all about changing, never static, never stationary.
To change the subject off Alexa and what I’d tell her, I said, “I’m going to send money home. You can quit your stocking job and spend time with Cleo.” Let’s be honest. Leaving Cleo here, unsupervised, was a bad, bad idea.
“Oh, honey, I don’t want you to do that. Save the money for yourself and your future,” Mom said. “This is your opportunity. I’ll handle everything here. I’ll see if I can switch up my hours at the diner a little, and ask Bob if I can start stocking shelves in the early morning.” She let go of my hand, waving hers through the air, as if none of the details truly mattered. “I’ll handle it. I want you to make the most of this opportunity, Mags.”
An opportunity. That’s how I had to look at this. I might not love Black Sacrament’s music, but I had to go into this with an open mind. If I could make this work, there was no telling where I could go after.
But I think I might still send some money home, even though my mom said not to.
Mom and I helped Cleo get to bed, and then wandered our separate ways to our own rooms. I fell face-first onto my bed in the darkness, knowing I wouldn’t sleep a wink. My mind wouldn’t shut off.
So, to make the most of my time, I decided to look up Black Sacrament and its members. Only three members, though there used to be four: Bishop, Deacon, and Priest. Pope was the fourth, but there was a bit of a scandal involving him, a drunken, possibly drug-fueled rant, and a group of women videotaping him.
I watched the tape. The things he said, the names he called those women who only wanted a photograph with him—he was still dressed up like he’d just gotten off stage—weren’t things I’d ever say aloud.
Oof. Ouch. Suddenly bringing me into the fold made sense. I was a nobody, but they could parade me around as their precious angel and try to overcome the shadow Pope’s actions had placed over the band.
Most of the articles I found were about Pope and what he did. The only things I could find on the others were pictures of them on stage or meeting fans—they all wore black and covered most of their faces with masks. What parts weren’t covered by masks had black body paint—save for the upside-down white cross on one of the guitarist’s mouth and neck. There was not a single picture of any of them out of character. It was like any time they went out in public, they had to act and dress like their stage selves.
Was that what I’d have to do? Wear all black, paint every inch of my body, and sing with a mask on, like Pope did? Not looking forward to any of it, honestly.
I couldn’t tell how old Priest, Bishop, and Deacon were. It was impossible to tell with the masks on their faces and paint everywhere else. Seriously—not an inch of their natural skin showed in any picture I found. They looked good though, even with all the black.
It was a good thing I wasn’t into guys who could play instruments. Guitarists might make other girls weak at the knees and swoon, but not me. Just because a guy could play the guitar or the drums or even sing didn’t make him automatically sexy.
Plus, from what I heard—and that was based on movies and TV shows—rockers were into some weird crap. Not just drugs and alcohol, but weird sex stuff. No thanks to any of that. Not falling for them would be easy-peasy.
Sometime around three in the morning, I was finally able to doze off. Morning came all too quickly, shedding light into my room and forcing me to start the day. I rolled over to find my bedroom door wide open and my sister head-deep in my closet, pulling out clothes and throwing them onto the floor in the middle of the room.
“What are you doing?” I asked with a yawn, slow to sit up to see the total mayhem she made. That was Cleo. Chaos incarnate. Precocious and rambunctious. She was lucky she was my sister and I basically was forced to love her.
“I’m helping you pack,” she said.
“You don’t look like you’re packing.”
“I’m not. I’m going through your stuff—you have terrible taste, you know—and sorting them.”
I rubbed a hand along the side of my face. “I only see one pile.” I was on Cleo duty for the day, which meant I had to text Alexa and have her come over so I could break the news to her. Ramona was coming for the contract and NDAs later today, but I wouldn’t be leaving until Monday morning.
Meaning: I had plenty of time to pack.If it wasn’t already obvious, I liked to put things off.
“Yeah, that’s because that’s the no pile,” she stated matter-of-factly, totally unaware that she shouldn’t be in my room at—I checked my phone—eight-fifteen in the morning. It was summer. Come on. What time did this kid wake up? “I don’t know why you weren’t bullied more.”
That was the last thing I expected her to say, and I couldn’t fight the laugh that bubbled its way up my throat. “You’re so annoying. Get out. I need to get up and get dressed.” I swung my legs off the side of my bed, stretching as I stood.
Cleo let out a huff, but in the end she didn’t argue with me. She started for the door.
“I’m telling Alexa to come over,” I called after her. “You know you’re not allowed to tell anyone about the whole Black Sacrament thing, right? Mom signed that NDA on behalf of you, so if you go blabbing your mouth to all your friends, Mom can get in trouble.”
She was only eleven, but even Cleo knew that Mom didn’t need any more money trouble.
Cleo groaned, folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “I know. Mom said it like twenty times last night. I’m not stupid, Mags. I can keep a secret.” I’d never heard her sound so serious before.
“Why did you tape me singing and send it in?”
My sister’s dark blond eyebrows furrowed, and she said, “You have a good voice. You’ve always wanted to be a singer.” Her thin shoulders went up and down once as she uncrossed her arms. “Besides, it isn’t like I really thought you’d win .”
So much for a sisterly moment. With seven years between us, those moments were pretty much nonexistent. “Thanks, brat. Now get out.”
She blew me an exaggerated kiss and bounced away, shutting my door behind her. I picked an outfit out of the no pile and changed out of my pajamas, and then I texted Alexa and asked if she could come over.
And then it was a waiting game.
Mornings were a time of waffles in the toaster or cereal in bowls. Lunches in the summer were a time of pizza rolls. Cleo and I pretty much lived on those bite-sized pizza bites. Alexa was over most of the time in the summer, or when Cleo had playdates with her friends, I went over her house.
All that was about to end. Things were going to get very different for each of us.
Alexa came around ten-thirty, after she’d rolled herself out of bed and showered. Her short black hair was still a little damp. We sat facing each other on my bed, and she noted the pile of clothes I’d tried to push toward my closet immediately.
“What’s going on? Your room looks like mine now,” she spoke with a wide grin. “Weren’t you just making fun of me for that?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, lowering my eyes to my lap. “That’s… sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.” My stomach was in knots; I didn’t want Alexa to be mad at me for this. The lack of details might just aggravate her to no end.
The smile fell off her face. “What is it?”
“I… won’t be able to room with you after all. I have to pull out.”
Alexa blinked. For a while, that’s all she could do: blink. Over and over, like if she blinked enough, her brain would finally register the words I’d said. Finally, she shook her head and asked, “What the heck are you talking about?”
“Something happened last night—”
“Does this have to do with that weird lady who was here? Who was she?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Alexa once again fell into a bout of blinking. “Uh, what? You can’t tell me? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Mags, we tell each other everything .”
“I know, and I’m dying to tell you—you have to believe me—but I can’t. I literally can’t. We had to sign NDAs.” I paused. “Like, all of us. Even Cleo.”
“Cleo had to sign an NDA? For what?”
“I mean, my mom had to sign it for her, but still. If I could tell you without someone suing us into the ground, I would.” I bit my bottom lip, feeling uncomfortable and wishing things were different. “Please don’t be mad.”
“So, let me get this straight. You can’t tell me who that woman was yesterday, but whoever she was, she made you sign an NDA, and now you’re telling me you can’t room with me at college.”
“It’s not just that. I can’t go.”
It was a good thing Alexa was sitting, because I think she would’ve fallen over at hearing that. “You what ? You can’t go at all? What the hell is going on, Mags? You’re the only reason I’m going to CSU.”
I buried my face in my hands, muttering, “I know. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. It’s kind of… out of my hands.” When I pulled my hands away from my face, I saw Alexa watching me with suspicion.
She wanted to ask questions. I knew she did. She was dying inside, absolutely dying. She seemed annoyed, morbidly curious, but not totally furious. Thank God. I didn’t know what I’d do if I lost my best friend over this.
“I’m just so confused,” Alexa muttered. “I don’t even know what could make you drop out and sign NDAs. Who the hell was that chick yesterday? Some lawyer of a long-lost, super rich and now dead relative?”
I laughed. “No. I wish, but no. It’s different. It’s crazy. I’m dying to tell you, but I can’t. As soon as I can without risking everything, I will. I promise.”
Alexa was silent for a few seconds, staring at me hard. I could only imagine the thoughts going through her head right now; all the possibilities of why this was happening. I could almost guarantee that every possible scenario in her head was wrong; she didn’t listen to rock. She had no idea who Black Sacrament was.
Eventually, she said, “Fine. I’m not mad. Very annoyed, but not mad. You better just tell me what all this is about as soon as you can, because I’m dying of curiosity. Literally.” And then she gave me a smile, and that’s how I knew we were going to be okay.
I threw my arms around her and hugged her, and she hugged me back. When the hug was done, I told her, “I can’t tell you any of the details, but I can say it’s absolutely insane.” Insane was about the only word I could think of to describe the sharp turn my life had taken thanks to my little sister.
“Insane, huh? My curiosity is officially piqued.”
“I thought it was piqued before?”
“Yes, but now I’m as curious as I can be. I have reached peak-level curiosity.” Alexa spoke that with a serious face, but she couldn’t hold it in. She burst out in a fit of giggles after that, and I joined her.
Thank God she wasn’t mad. I didn’t know what I’d do if she was. Even though she couldn’t be with me in my newfound life, I didn’t want to lose her.