Chapter 8
CONOR
I finished the song on my terms—no lip sync, no dancers twerking behind me, no throne—just a little beach sand under the soles of my shoes.
After the last chords from my guitar died out, I spun toward the band and gave them a thumbs up. Odyssey had not skimped on the back-up band—pure gold. Several of the crew members and dancers clapped and whistled at the side of the stage.
I could maintain my rep on this tour, despite Ashley’s theatrics and Ji-yoon’s overly energetic set. At least Ji-yoon sang live, but the vibe of her music didn’t match mine. Not sure why my manager booked me for this gig.
That was a lie.
Toby jumped at this booking because every other promoter had passed on the previous tour we’d tried to stage. They kept suggesting smaller and smaller venues until I was afraid the next suggestion would be the opening of a new Costco in Van Nuys.
As I pulled my guitar strap over my head, Noelle stormed the stage tapping her clipboard. Her distance today conflicted with our time under the airplanes yesterday.
After my parting comment, she obviously didn’t want me to try harder this time around—or try at all.
“That was fire, Conor.”
When did Noelle start using trendy words?
“Your set was great...” she inserted the end of her pen between her teeth before she continued with the big but I heard in her voice “...just one addition.”
My muscles tensed, my jaw practically cracking. “And what’s that, Noelle?”
“Odyssey really wants you to add a Five2 song.” She patted my arm as if to remove the sting of her words. “Your choice. So many good ones.”
I ground my back teeth, my gaze shifting over her shoulder. I couldn’t watch her as she delivered the news that cut me off at the knees.
“I-I mean you could perform it however you want. Wouldn’t even have to be the same arrangement as the original. Make it your own.” She blinked her long lashes, even more noticeable without her glasses.
Did she become a different person when she ditched the glasses? She had to realize how her request gutted me.
I rolled my shoulders. “I already did that.”
“What?”
“I wrote three albums with songs of my own.” I strummed a harsh chord on my guitar, and she jumped back.
Ducking her head, she lowered her voice.
“I know that, Con. And you just performed a perfect set with those songs. We...Odyssey is just asking for one Five2Go song to make the fangirls happy. You said yourself that you and the boys are trying to arrange a reunion tour. This would be a great taste of that tour. Even Ian and Sam...”
She trailed off, her cheeks sporting two red flags, her implication as loud as that cranked tube amp on stage. Even Ian and Sam, who had careers and tours way more successful than mine, performed Five2 songs in their sets.
“Maybe I should try singing Baby Oh to see if I can do more than just the chorus this time.”
She pressed her lips together. “Maybe just be a team player so we can get this tour off the ground and make it a success.”
“You’re right. I’ve sung Five2Go songs on other tours, and I can do it for this one. Company man at your service.” I saluted. I wasn’t here to make life hard on Noelle.
“Okay, thanks. Just trying to do my job.” She tucked an errant lock of silky hair behind her ear.
She’d lost the glasses, smoothed out her hair, and changed into a different person. Actually, she was the same person—the one who dumped me for her job when I went to Australia.
“I hate to bring this up now, but don’t forget we have the press event at the end of Ji-yoon’s set.”
I tapped my temple. “Branded in my brain.”
“Thanks.” Her gaze followed Ji-yoon as the singer discussed placement with the stage manager. “She’s really excited about going solo. I hope we can deliver for her.”
Was that another reminder to me that other people were depending on my cooperation? How much of myself did I have to relinquish to make sure others thrived?
“I’m sure she’ll be brilliant. She’s a professional...unlike some people.” I darted a look toward Ashley arguing with her choreographer.
“I know.” Noelle wrinkled her nose. “I keep waiting for the kinder, gentler Ashley to show up. When’s that going to happen?”
I leveled a finger at Noelle. “It’s your job to make sure it does, right?”
“Thanks for the reminder.” She stiffened when Ashley glanced in our direction.
I couldn’t imagine trying to please that woman...in any way. I should cut Noelle some slack. She probably had as difficult a time delivering the promoter’s edict about the Five2Go song as I did hearing it. She knew how it would land.
Noelle might be ambitious about her career, but she had a kindness unique in this business. Maybe that’s why she still held the position of assistant after all these years.
I turned back to Noelle to let her know I was going to one of the trailers to look over my set when she turned on her heel and left me with my mouth hanging open. Was she afraid of Ashley’s temper?
If I saw Ashley bullying Noelle...or anyone else, I’d have to step in—fake dating relationship be damned.
As Ji-yoon started her first song, I jogged down the steps of the stage to claim one of the trailers set up for us.
I grabbed a water on the way and opened the flimsy door, peering inside the empty space.
Someone had left the remnants of their lunch on a table.
Probably Ashley, given the condition of the picked over salad and the red lipstick imprint on the can of Diet Coke.
I wished Noelle all the luck in the world rehabilitating Ashley, but I couldn’t see it happening—not even if Ashley and I shagged in the middle of the stage.
I pulled my laptop out of my bag and brought up the set list. I didn’t mind including a Five2 song. Noelle was right—we all did them, even Jay, when he still toured. And why shouldn’t we? Those songs belonged to us, each of us in our own right.
Just knocked me back that the promoters demanded it from me. I massaged my temples. Maybe promoters required it from the others, too. I’d gotten too touchy. Sometimes I wondered what happened to the carefree lad pranking about on stage, happy to be singing any damned thing.
But I knew—from tours to studios to promo appearances, locked in hotel rooms to keep us safe from roving fans, no sleep, no family, no real privacy, no real life.
And then feeling guilty for the resentment when the work continued to provide so much wealth, not just for me, but for my family.
My older brother had a small musical career of his own, thanks to my success.
Then when the celebrity of the band came to a crashing halt—the loneliness, the anxiety, the insecurities. Damn. I’m surprised we made it out alive.
And through it all, me always thinking about the one girl who got away.
The trailer door banged open, and I jumped two feet out of my chair.
“Oh, sorry. Didn’t know anyone was in here. I suppose I should’ve knocked first.” A tall woman with beaded braids crossed the small space with two long strides, extending her hand. “I’m Shanice Brown, Ashley’s stylist for the tour, although I’m here to help all of you.”
“Hiya, Shanice. Conor Flynn.”
She cocked her head, sending her beads into a clacking frenzy. “Yeah, I know that. Just popped in to pick up a make-up bag I left here earlier.”
“Right.” I scooted my chair forward, so she could get by to reach the table in the back, littered with a lighted mirror and trays of makeup.
On her way, she flicked her fingers at the lunchtime trash left behind. “Ugh, this is Ashley’s. She’s such a...”
Drumming her lips with her long fingers, Shanice said, “Oops, sorry. Don’t mean to rag on your woman.”
“My wo...” I swallowed my words. The more people, including the tour personnel, who thought my relationship with Ashley was real, the easier for Noelle and her scheme. “Yeah, she can be a slob, but she’s well meaning.”
I caught Shanice rolling her eyes before she gathered some makeup and stuffed it into the blue case. If I couldn’t imagine dating Ashley for real, I really couldn’t imagine working for her.
I asked, “Do you work for Odyssey Promotions?”
“No, I’m an independent contractor.”
“How’d you land this gig with Ashley?” I hoped she was getting a bundle. She’d earn it before this tour was over.
“She requested me, and I made sure to jack up my price.” Shanice must’ve read the astonishment on my face because she winked as she walked out the door and said, “Ashley heard I had a reputation for taming divas.”
Taming divas or tigers? The only benefit I had over the people who worked for Ashley was that she needed the stunt relationship more than I did. Yeah, it would create buzz for me and the tour, but Ashley had to have it if she hoped to work in this industry again.
I was hoping Shanice grabbed that makeup to get Ashley ready for the press meet and greet. She’d better not be late or unprepared or insecure or on the defensive.
Ashley was already giving Noelle a headache, and Noelle didn’t need another temperamental popstar on her hands.
I spent the next thirty minutes reviewing my set list and figuring out which Five2 song to sing and where it would fit best. Maybe I should check in with Ian to find out which ones he sang on tour, so we didn’t duplicate.
Someone knocked on the door. “Press is here.”
I snapped my laptop shut. Technically the reporters, vloggers, and bloggers were here during the rehearsal, but they must be like sharks circling the water now looking for blood, ready to pounce. Did sharks pounce? I was about to find out.
I tucked my computer into my bag and shoved it under the table with the toe of my trainer. I exited the trailer, following the buzzing and clicking sound—unmistakable—I’d heard it all my adult life and most of my teens.
Rounding the corner, I slowed my gait when I saw Ashley holding court, flirting, primping, tossing her hair. Peak Ashley behavior. She embodied the diva image, took it by the teeth and devoured it.
Suddenly nervous, I smoothed my hands over my hair, my guitar-calloused fingers catching the long strands.
Ashley occupied center stage with Ji-yoon, looking a bit anxious, to her right and Noelle standing on her left and slightly behind Ashley. A few photographers noted my approach, but most kept their lenses aimed at Ashley.
I took my place on the other side of Ji-yoon and waved. “Thanks for coming today. Hope you enjoyed the music.”
A few of the reporters took the hint and swiveled toward me, shouting some questions.
“Are you singing any new music, Conor?”
“Do you have something coming out soon?”
“Do you agree that Crashing Into Me was your best album?”
Did I?
“Didn’t hear any Fiv2Go songs in your set. Are you adding any? Ian sang them on his sold-out tour.”
I didn’t know where to start first. I didn’t want to answer any of these questions, but I could feel Noelle’s gaze lasering the side of my face.
“Yeah, yeah. No new music this time. Working on some stuff. Crashing? Yeah, loads of good tracks on that one.” I cleared my throat. C’mon Conor. You can answer this one. “I am going to add a Five2 song, but it’s gonna be a surprise.”
Noelle gave me a little nod, and the pack of wolves in front of me seemed to exhale a collective sigh, their shoulders slumping. They were trying to goad me and create some controversy.
But the reporters weren’t done yet.
Licking their chops, they turned their bright lights back to Ashley, who’d been tapping her foot during my exchange with the press.
She could have ’em.
“Ashley, are you and Conor an item again?”
“Is this round 2 of Conley?”
My shoulders tensed at the mention of that daft shipping name. I didn’t mind a few hints that Ashley and I were a couple, but I hated this kind of celebrity shite. Maybe Jay had the right idea. Chickens.
Ashley smirked and batted her eyelashes. “Maybe we are. Tour bus. Close proximity. Love song duet on stage.”
Except Ashley had no intention of boarding that tour bus. Thank God.
“If that’s true, Ashley. How do you feel about those cozy pictures that showed up online of Conor and...the publicist?” The reporter jabbed his finger at Noelle, who shrank behind her clipboard.
My stomach plunged. Pictures? Cozy pictures? What was he on about? My gaze shifted from Noelle’s face, drained of all color, to Ashley’s, whose cheeks practically flashed red warning signs.
It was one thing if Ashley saw those pictures and laughed them off. She had about as much romantic interest in me as I had in her—which was fuck all. But to face public humiliation over a perceived infidelity? No way would she stand for that.
I swallowed as Ashley’s eyes glittered. Pulling back her shoulders, she thrust out her chest—and she had a lot to thrust after her most recent boob job.
I knew that look. Hell, I’d flashed that look myself when I had no more fucks to give and was ready to damn the torpedoes. But I wouldn’t let Ashley shoot down Noelle’s dreams.
“You know what, Gabe?” Ashley wagged her finger in the reporter’s face. “It is Gabe, right?”
“Uh, Gage.” The poor fella seemed mesmerized by Ashley’s...finger.
“I’m going to give you a scoop. I’m going to give you a peek behind the curtain.” Ashley winked at Gage, whose tongue was practically lolling out of his mouth.
Ashley shimmied her shoulders. “I’m gonna give you all the tea.”
“Ashley, luv.” I crossed in front of Ji-yoon, her mouth gaping open as her gaze ping-ponged between Ashley and Gage, a slight frown between her eyes.
Unlike the scene at AM LA, this fuck-up called for drastic action. I pulled Ashley into my arms, cradled the back of her head, sealed my lips over hers, and even added tongue for good measure. She tasted like an ashtray.
I wouldn’t claim she kissed me back, but she didn’t push me away. When we came up for air, I curled my arm around her waist and spoke up for the mics jammed in our space. “Jealousy always was your cutest flaw.”
Ashley stared at me as the camera flashes popped off all around us.
I leaned in to nibble her earlobe. “Don’t fuck this up before we even get going.”
Grabbing my T-shirt, she pulled me close, resting her forehead against mine. Between gritted teeth, she said “Don’t you ever fucking humiliate me like that again.”
“Deal.” I grinned my cheeky grin as my gaze floated to Noelle’s face. Instead of the grateful smile I expected to see, her soft mouth trembled like she was gonna break down in tears.