34. THE ONE WHERE FRANKIE SINGS
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
THE ONE WHERE FRANKIE SINGS
WestParkerComedy shared HexedHeroine’s story: I’d trade them all to hear you do it instead, Hex baby
The high I feel coming off stage is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
I had little to no expectations going into this show. I figured there’d be a good enough crowd, but I hadn’t expected a sold-out show with over 2,000 seats.
“You’re going on an arena tour next year. Mark my words,” Enzo says before I spend about twenty minutes at the front barricade meeting fans who stayed behind in hopes I’d come out.
I take pictures, sign T-shirts, arms, and whatever else I’m asked to…
Except, for the first time in my career, I look the woman in the eyes who asks me to sign her tits and say, “there’s a witch around here who might hex us for that.
” I glance over both my shoulders for dramatic effect, before taking her Sharpie and signing by her collarbone.
She gets a playful wink and a dimpled smile but nothing more.
People ask about Hex once I bring her up, and I have to pretend like I’m not wondering the same damn thing. I want Joey to have the night off and enjoy her time with Frankie, but selfishly, I want her here with me too. Not even to have her on the clock working, just to be here.
She hasn’t texted me back since I went on stage, and it’s eating me alive.
I really, really hope she’s not mad about the shirt.
Did she hate it? Did she like it and that’s why she’s not talking to me?
When I first met Joey, of course I did a quick Google search of Hex. It’s what our generation does—I refuse to apologize for it.
Someone had a one of a kind HexedHeroine shirt on a resale site for $100. I bought it before our video blew up, before I knew anything about Joey. I was determined to talk to her again, even if it meant I had to get her attention by wearing the shirt until it somehow got back to her.
I was willing to play the long game.
Nothing has changed. I’m still willing to play the long game.
I forgot all about the shirt until my parents overnighted some packages I had shipped to their house to me this weekend while we’re at one address.
There was no doubt in my mind it had to be worn tonight—especially after Joey’s whole friends-thing earlier this week.
The next hour of my life flies by as I talk to organizers and other comedians. It’s nice to mingle and obviously great for my image to be seen and photographed at an event I just donated a large chunk of money to, but I can’t focus.
I need to see Joey.
Excusing myself from the conversation I’m in, I pull my phone out to find a new notification from a group chat with me, Joey, Frankie, Enzo, and Kell.
Joey changed the name to Frankie & The Founding Fathers.
Frankie
I’m taking my job to keep Joey away from work v srsly
Idc how rich y’all are about to become
IIIII want to ride the rickety rides and walk away thankful to see another day
Beer AFTER so no one pukes!
Joey baby
We have Kell.
Me
Meet you at the Ferris wheel in 15 mins
There are so many things to celebrate tonight, and I don’t plan on doing it with a bunch of strangers.
I find Enzo looking bored as fuck, disassociating in the corner while the Oktoberfest organizers talk his ear off. From across the room I catch his eye, and he perks up when I nod towards the exit of the private event space this mixer’s being held in.
He quickly but politely says his goodbyes and is beside me in seconds. We don’t say anything until we’re outside and away from prying ears.
“Thank you. I was ready to gouge my eyes out if it meant Walter stopped talking about the fall flowers they chose for the decorations. Twenty minutes. He talked about mums and toad lilies for twenty minutes.” Enzo’s gritting his teeth by the end of his sentence.
“You good?” I ask, fighting a smile. “Any other flowers you need to get outta your system?”
He doesn’t answer, responding with his own question. “Where are we going?”
The temperature has dropped since the sun set, but at least it’s a calm night with no wind or rain. It’s hard to predict how to dress this time of year in the Northeast. Northern Michigan is the same. I’ve seen all four seasons in one day before.
I toss on a dark gray wool-lined flannel, thankful I grabbed it out of the camper before leaving the townhouse for tonight’s show.
“To have some fucking fun with two of the hottest girls we’ve ever met… and Kell.”
Enzo’s smile is slow, and his teeth don’t show. The smug, mischievous bastard. I know he’s got a thing for Frankie. I’ll get him to admit it one day.
Kell and the girls are already in line at the Ferris wheel when we get there, and he’s laughing at something one of them said. “No, I swear.”
“You swear what?” I ask.
Joey jumps at the sound of my voice, spinning around to find me standing less than a foot from her, separated by the queue’s chain dividers.
When our eyes meet, I instantly relax.
God, I wanted her backstage so bad tonight.
I hadn’t realized how accustomed I’d grown to knowing she’d be there after I finished a set, waiting to record my exit like she’s been doing for weeks.
I don’t love Joey being in the audience. I can make this woman laugh all day long behind closed doors, but the man on stage isn’t technically the man Joey pretends not to have feelings for.
Another exclamation point appeared on her reminder today. She even made the font bold. Poor Joey’s trying so hard not to fall in love with me. It might be the only thing I’ll ever wish for her to fail at.
She works for West Parker.
She’s falling for West Isakson.
“Frankie thinks we know where you got your shirt from.” Kell crosses his arms, ready for me to back him up.
The line starts to move, pushing them away from the corner where we’re able to stand beside them. The older man behind them waves us forward. “Please, come on in. We loved your show tonight!”
People in line start to take notice of me, happily agreeing they wouldn’t mind if Enzo and I cut in. I thank them as we both choose to step over the chains, chatting for a second so as not to seem rude before I return to the conversation about my shirt.
“Today’s the first time I’ve ever seen it,” Enzo admits.
Frankie slants her eyes, looking at us like she might catch us in a lie if she stares harder.
“Fine, if you say so, but I seriously need to know where you got your hands on this thing.” She steps forward and grabs the bottom of the freshly cropped T-shirt, rubbing the material between her fingers to make sure it’s an original. “Number 31.”
Frankie lets go of the shirt and laughs. “How funny he somehow gets shirt 31 during your thirty-first year.”
“Imagine that,” Joey hums, trying to sound casual, but her voice is tight, and it’s the first thing she’s said since I walked up.
I look from the number on my shirt, smirking when I catch Joey’s gaze.
“I Googled you after I got off stage the first night we met. Someone was selling a rare HexedHeroine shirt. At the time, I thought it would just be a funny way to make you talk to me in the future.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, but Joey tries to hide her face when her cheeks turn pink.
“I bet the seller was pissed when he found out how much more it’s worth now. ”
Dude seemed like a slimeball. I would have paid ten times the amount just to get it out of his possession.
“Jo’s gonna act weird about it, but I think it was well played. Very well played indeed.” She shoots me an excited smile and two thumbs up while her best friend isn’t watching.
“I’m not gonna act weird about it.” We all know when she says something with that tone, she’s already doing whatever it is she said she’s not going to do. She looks at our expressions and adds, “anymore.”
It takes her a minute, but she does eventually relax.
From the Ferris wheel, we move to the questionably safe bumper cars where Frankie laughs so hard she has to pee the second we get off.
After bathroom breaks, we spend another hour riding some more shitty carnival rides. Enzo can’t fit in a few of them, and we decide to call it quits after the T-Rex he chooses on the carousel struggles to move.
Enzo’s a big guy, but the carousel is old and in need of retirement, fighting to keep up with even Frankie’s tiny ass. His was just the most noticeable as it squeaked, fueling everyone but Enzo’s laughter until well after we'd exited through the ride’s gate.
Frankie’s leaving in the morning, and we’re staying one more night in Philadelphia after tonight, taking advantage of one less day cramped inside the camper.
I don’t think any of us realized how tight our living space was until Joey joined us. We hadn’t been living in the camper very long, but we were making due on a much smaller budget the first month of tour.
Joey managed to get the first couple brand deals to pay quicker than a standard thirty-day term, and within the week I’ll have more money than I know what to do with. There’s going to be a ton extra in the budget to splurge more throughout the rest of the tour if brand deals keep coming in too.
I’m hoping tonight’s stunt on stage is enough to have another mega-viral hit. We’ll know in the next couple hours…
We found an empty picnic table to share food on, chatting over big mugs of beer that make Frankie look more miniature than she already is.
The last band of the festival is playing under the tent behind us, filling the night air with lively energy, and the smell of fried food and German-style dishes makes me want to send Kell on another snack run.
He’ll never say no to food.
Frankie sighs, replying to something Kell asked. “The music industry isn’t kind to women when they reach a certain age. I don’t have the same appeal as a nineteen-year-old, especially without record breaking sales.”
Enzo and I scoff at the same time, but he beats me by saying what a crock of shit that is. “Fuck that, you’re not washed up. You’re in the prime of your life and have industry experience. Any label would be lucky to have you.”