7. VIPs
VIPs
MARY
AJ approached with an arm full of bottled water, hurrying us into the green room.
“Great show, guys!” He said. “Fuck, that crowd was all about you!”
I gulped water as I recovered from the adrenaline that only playing a small venue brought.
The feeling was bittersweet as it was probably our last small show in a very long time—hopefully forever if our label had our backs.
My ears still rang. I wanted to drink a beer and come down, but needed to hydrate.
I was too old to come off stage and slam a beer.
“So, are we calling that Wayside then?” Barry wiped his brow.
I shrugged. “I was. What do you think?”
“Wayside makes sense,” Clarice said.
Alicia nodded. “Works.”
I raised my bottle of water. “Then, we have a name.”
“Gotta wrangle studio time,” AJ chimed.
“Oh, fuck no!” I nearly spat my water out. “It’s nowhere near ready.”
“It’s raw. It’s real,” AJ said. “You’re too close to this. I will look for some time. I think it could be a hit.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’ll see.”
I hated the idea of recording an EP in bits and pieces.
The risk was that it would sound like a cobbled-up mess.
However, not recording it as we went meant we could miss our flash-in-the-pan moment for superstardom.
I knew just how hard that balance was from the outside in, but not on the other side of the fence.
I was now the star. I was the talent. The lack of control ended me.
“Oh, we have some VIPs who want to meet you,” AJ said.
“Nei!” I shook my head. “Nei. Nei. Nei.”
“Look, it’s a favor for Leah Roughy. Take a few pictures. Be a good little Viking.”
“How? Why?” Clarice asked.
“She says it’s someone very close—like family,” AJ said. “And given she just invited you all to that showcase at the Royal Albert Hall, you should probably fucking suck it up.”
I groaned. I wasn’t in the mood to entertain actresses or theater people and even less in the mood to chat with royals I didn’t care about.
I wanted to go home, drink a beer, and turn in.
We were back on a plane in two days, and I had no patience for making nice.
However, he was right. A show at the Royal Albert Hall didn’t just happen and we owed Leah this much.
“Just get over it, darling,” Alicia patted my back. “That’s the biz.”
Uneasy with this ridiculous turn of events, I finished my bottle of water and waited for the VIPs to arrive.
All the while, I cursed Leah Roughy for being so persuasive.
No one had any right to be that nice, connected, hot, and talented all at once.
A blonde showed up first, looking a little overwhelmed by it all.
She was tall, wearing some cute dress that looked out-of-place for the venue.
I couldn’t place her as connected to either Leah or her wife and she didn’t look like one of the British royals.
As I tried to place the blonde, I went from cursing that woman to making note to thanking her.
In entered my mysterious ginger from years before.
Standing there in pair of painted-on pair of jeans and a cutoff vintage tee was the woman I’d been thinking about only minutes before when I played “Wayside”.
The ginger who got away smiled back at me. She was here, in the flesh!
Was it possible she was even hotter now than before?
Either my memory was off or that was the case.
I now panicked. I remembered her, of course, but did she remember me?
Or was I just another girl who made out with her in a bar?
After all, she was fit as hell! I’m sure that happened to her all the time.
“Hi there,” Alicia said effusively. “You all are friends of Leah’s?”
The blonde nodded. “Well, she is.”
The redhead blushed. “Way back, yeah.”
I worried now this was her girlfriend. My heart sank.
Then, her blue eyes filtered to me, as if there was no one else in the room.
In my eyes, there wasn’t. Alicia glared, demanding I say something with just one look, but I couldn’t form a sentence.
Somehow, she knew something was up. Here was the ginger just staring at me waiting for an answer, but I was unable to compose a single word.
“Mary is always a little shy. Don’t mind her.”
“We’ve met before,” I burst out, then calmed. “Many years ago, I think?”
She blushed. “Yeah. I realize that. At the show you were playing with her.”
She nodded at Alicia.
“Wait… are you the cute ginger who came to that club with us?” Alicia gasped, putting it together. “Oh my God! That was a million years ago.”
“Yeah. I figured I’d just say that I love your music. And it’s a small world,” she said.
“It’s… Betty, right?” I asked.
She beamed. “Yeah. Betty. This is Jaz. And you’re still Mary. A big star, as I predicted.”
I flushed bright red.
“You’re still a doll,” Alicia said.
“And you didn’t even want to meet her!” Barry whispered in my ear.
I elbowed him. “Shh!”
“Are you all going out after this?” Clarice asked.
Betty and Jaz exchanged looks.
“Well, we really shouldn’t,” Jaz winced. “We have a competition early tomorrow and—”
“I’m going,” Betty chirped. “I want to anyhow. If you’re inviting us? I can handle it.”
“Good lord. This is how I know you’re still a baby. My liver can’t handle it,” Jaz chuckled. “I’ll bid you all farewell, then. Have a good night.”
“Fine, be boring,” Betty gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I promise I will be there or Ingy will have my head before Hank will.”
“Be there, bitch! Great show everyone! Peace out!” The American called, departing into the dark hallway.
Betty rubbed her hands together. “So where to now?”
“Do not say The Bookstore,” Barry groaned.
“You’re outnumbered,” Alicia said. “Are you down, Betty?”
“Sure,” she agreed.