Foolish Games Read online

  “You know I have all these clothes back here,” she sang to me.

  “Really, I’m pretty sure we’ve tried that one before,” I quipped.

  “What ever happened to the purple shirt?” Lizzie asked when Riley’s eyes got so big that I could almost see the white around them as if to say, don’t even go there.

  “Remember, I told you, a hooker stole it right off my back,” I said sarcastically, thinking about Hawkins’ snide comments.

  “Well, I am his muse.” She tugged a light blue sequin dress over her head and down her body. “So I guess you don’t have to look good if you don’t want to.”

  My tongue screamed in pain as I bit down to keep myself from saying something we would both regret. My nerves were racing as the concert drew near. Lizzie was going to town with the makeup, reminding me that this wasn’t just some kind of nightmare I had imagined. The only power I had was what I was going to write about tomorrow in my blog, and I had to admit to myself that that didn’t feel like much. Just then, as if this situation couldn’t get any worse, Riley announced, “A tweet is up from Hawkins.”

  “Damn you, Hawkins!” I huffed. “I don’t know if it’s such a good idea that I hear it now.”

  “Oh, but I want to hear it!” Lizzie declared excitedly, moving in to read it along with Riley. Lizzie snorted and then quickly covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I know that I shouldn’t be laughing.”

  “No, Janet Jackson, you shouldn’t be.” I thumbed towards the girls. “Wardrobe malfunction.”

  Lizzie hiked the dress up over her chest and smirked. “Say what you want, at least I’m not a hypocrite,” she said tauntingly.

  “She said that she didn’t want to hear it,” Riley hissed.

  “Great, I do now,” I said as curiosity won over my self-esteem. Waiting for Riley to finally spill it, I grumbled, “Just say it.”

  “Okay, here it is, ‘You supposedly have these rules: no backstage visits, no tour buses, no hotels…but I have yet to see you follow any of them.’”

  “And the other tweet,” Riley continued. “’Well, get ready to be a hypocrite, you should be used to it by now.’”

  “Oh, hell.” I threw my head back against the seat. So this was how he was going to have his revenge, by breaking all my rules? I knew that he looked way too happy yesterday.

  “So that’s it,” I whispered. “Backstage, hotel, bus…”

  “What is?” Riley asked.

  “Where Hawkins is going to take us for our meet and greets.”

  “Why?” Lizzie asked. “We’ve already been backstage and to his hotel.”

  “Not planned, I haven’t.” I smiled to myself.

  “Okay, let’s not make this all about you,” Lizzie added. “I’m his muse, remember?”

  And with that, I ignored her whether she said something sensible or not for the remainder of the drive. Lizzie, who looked like Tina Turner herself in the sequined mini, stood perched up in between the two of us as we arrived at the amphitheater. After we parked the van, she didn’t drink, much to my surprise. “I want to remember tonight.” I had overheard her say.

  Lizzie’s disco ball dress shimmered in what was left of the remaining sunshine as we walked up to the venue. She giggled when she got frisked by a teenage boy who of course blushed. Rolling my eyes at Lizzie so Riley could see, I noticed he looked more subdued than usual, probably because he was going to have to wing it alone tonight.

  “Umm, I have some business to take care of,” I said, feeling slightly embarrassed as we approached the t-shirt line.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Riley checked my temperature with the back of his hand along my forehead.

  “My options are running thin,” I explained to him with my hands out gesturing towards my clothes.

  “Wow, this is sad,” Riley agreed.

  “Well, we are kind of living out of a van.”

  A woman behind the counter with short blonde hair and a clear oversized poncho turned to ask me, “Which one, honey?”

  “Oh, I don’t care,” I answered with a hundred percent certainty. She waited patiently for me to decide while the packed line behind us had me pressed up against the counter. “That one, that one,” I said, pointing to the first ones I saw. “And that one.”

  Riley snickered when she held up a black t-shirt with Hawkins’ face plastered across the front of it.

  “Would you like it in a medium?” she asked.

  “Like isn’t the word I’d use.” The smartass in me spoke before I could stop myself and Riley snickered again. Forcing a smile for the lady, who looked confused by my comment, I added, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

  “I’ll take that.” Riley held out his hand for the bag after I purchased them.

  “You don’t have to carry them.”

  “So you’re going to take these t-shirts with you when you visit Hawkins tonight?”

  That shut me up.

  “That’s what I thought.” He smiled. “It’s cool.”

  We walked among the sea of people dressed in clear and yellow ponchos. Lizzie had made a beeline for the vendors with her fake I.D. in hand when I had bought the god awful shirts. She finally joined us and started slowly sipping her beer as the opening act took the stage. I watched Ryan, behind the drums, look out at Lizzie tonight. She arched her eyebrow in his direction and he looked away.

  “What’s his story?” I asked her, remembering him looking absolutely miserable in the same room with Warren and her the other night.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Didn’t you really like him?”

  “Yeah, I did,” she said. “But Ryan isn’t going anywhere. Everyone knows that The Larks are a one hit wonder. I doubt after this summer that anyone will ask to tour with them again.”

  Not knowing what to say, I leaned my head against Riley’s shoulder. “Am I killing your game?”

  “Yeah, but all the hot ones are straight tonight.” He smirked from under his low ball cap.

  “So are you going to point this Rob Harlow guy out to me?”

  “He won’t be up on stage.” Riley thumbed over our heads. “He’ll be back there.”

  Lifting my head, I glanced behind us where a few guys stood on a platform that dropped down from the top of the pavilion. The lighting equipment was facing the stage in front of the crew. There was a ladder that led up to what I assumed was the entrance and exit to the platform.

  “He’s stealth,” Riley explained. “I’ve actually only seen him once.”

  “He comes out when the band comes out,” he continued. “Way after the sun has set.”

  “How are we going to get his autograph then?”

  “That’s the million dollar question.” He frowned. The crowd around us suddenly exploded into loud applause as The Larks exited the stage.

  “Is it always this depressing without alcohol?” Lizzie asked as she watched Ryan leave.

  “Yep,” I answered the question she was really asking.

  She guzzled down her cup of beer in seconds before she plucked Riley’s drink out of his hands and continued to do the same.

  “O-kay,” Riley said jokingly.

  Lizzie looked over at me while smacking her lips. “I need more.”

  “Whoa, whoa, wait,” I intervened. “Stay focused,” I said encouragingly. “Remember that you wanted to remember tonight?”

  Lizzie was up and out of her seat, muttering, “Remembering is overrated.”

  “Oh, no.” I closed my eyes briefly when Lizzie stalked off down the aisle. “I can’t be the only one who’s sober along with Hawkins.”

  “Maybe he’ll be drinking, too?” Riley offered.

  “No, something tells me he’s going to be very, very sober. This night has revenge written all over it,” I muttered as I looked back up at the stage. “I’m not even sure if this is a marketing strategy.”

  “I don’t think that he’s lying about that part. This is the most attention the band has had in years.”


  “Why is that? Though I’m not a fan of Hawkins, the band’s music is really good.”

  “Beats me, some say Hawkins has become ‘disillusioned’ with all of it. That his follow up CD was lacking something,” Riley hesitated. “Like, a spark?”

  “Disillusioned like he might quit?”

  “Who knows?”

  The crowd suddenly boomed to life around us, causing our conversation to come to a halt. Hawkins zeroed in on me as he crossed the stage to the microphone. “This song is for Jack and Coke.” The crowd burst into laughter. He turned to look my way again and said, “I couldn’t think of two finer companions.”

  The sold out crowd exploded into cheers and a man behind me shouted, “Hell, yeah!”

  Lizzie cheered as she came down the aisle towards us with a drink in her hand. Staring at her for a moment in disbelief, I realized that she was just cheering because everyone else was doing it, too. Riley on the other hand looked like he was in need of another drink.

  “First hit goes to Hawkins,” I said under my breath as the lights went up.

  As the night went on, each song felt personal especially when Hawkins was singing them to me as though we were the only two people in the venue. I doubted the whole lack of a spark theory. Hawkins commanded the stage as if he were Bono himself. I got chills when those brooding eyes focused in on me again. He was a powerhouse on stage which made me feel like a little bitty person. I couldn’t help but clap along with everyone else when the band exited the stage at the end of the concert.

  “Wow, that was…” Riley looked at me while a loss for words.

  “Awesome, yeah, I know,” I agreed.

  Lizzie tugged halfheartedly at her skimpy dress. I realized that I was going to have to check periodically to make sure she was decent. It was amazing that she could walk at all in those heels while intoxicated. She must have had downed four or five cups of beer, but the girl was up and out of her seat like clockwork. Saying a quick goodbye to Riley, I took off after Lizzie who was already down the aisle. Of course, heading towards the backstage was just as normal for her as it was for Riley and me to head back to the van. Racing to catch up with her among the busy crowd, I tapped her shoulder and she jumped. “Oh, shit, you scared me.”

  “I’m supposed to come with you, remember?”

  “Sorry, my bad,” Lizzie slurred. Heading towards the bodyguard I dubbed as Harrison, he automatically opened the door for her without even a moment’s hesitation. He was just about to stop me since my backstage pass was still in my back jeans pocket. Who could blame me for not meeting up with Hawkins if I couldn’t get past security? Wouldn’t you know it, the only coherent moment Lizzie had was when she set the man straight that I was with her. After the door closed, I whirled around and saw a man dressed in a dark suit.

  “Lizzie McIntyre?” The tall, stocky man asked. “And friend?” His cool, blue eyes briefly turned in my direction.

  “I’m Joie,” I introduced myself, but he quickly nodded like he could care less. Maybe Hawkins told him he’d get paid extra if he made every part of my night as miserable as possible.

  “My name is Cyrus Ripley and I’ll be your driver for however long my services are needed.” He turned to quickly walk down the hallway while jingling a set of keys. We had to practically race to keep up with him. It was a blur of activity because of the backstage crew hurrying by us in the hallway.

  “Which one is Rob Harlow?” I asked Lizzie.

  “Who?” she slurred.

  “Never mind.”

  Cyrus led us down another hallway until we exited to a back parking lot where a dozen or so tour buses of every color were already parked. He headed over to a black Escalade with tinted dark windows.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, hoping to get an answer out of him.

  “Now, that is between Hawkins and me,” he replied.

  Rolling my eyes, I got in the seat next to Lizzie, and he shut the door behind me. Although the Escalade smelled new, it looked like he or someone else had spilled their coffee all down the front of the driver’s seat. Cyrus quickly patted down the seat with a small towel. He caught me staring at him and discarded the towel to the side. “It’s just been one of those days,” he grumbled before getting in behind the wheel.

  The words, I know how you feel, almost left my mouth, but I didn’t want that to get back to Hawkins. The gravel crunched underneath the wheels of the SUV as he drove the Escalade down a line of parked buses to the exit. We came to a slow stop about five yards away from a gate that was patrolled by two men dressed in black uniforms. The tinted window receded with a silky sound so he could extend his arm to hold up a pass of some sort. One of the men nodded and the fenced gate pulled back on a sliding shaft. Soon we were ushered into a lane and quickly passed the other traffic at the venue. Watching the stopped vehicles, I felt bad for Riley. He would be somewhere in the van behind us while neck and neck with the other cars that were going nowhere fast.

  Lizzie grabbed my hand in a moment of excitement. Her sequined dress reflected little lights like a disco ball along the back of the seat and across my lap. Once away from the gates, Cyrus seemed to calm down.

  “So are you two friends with the band?” he said in an attempt to make small talk.

  “Friends with benefits.” Lizzie laughed.

  “Ohh.” Cyrus smiled. “And you look so innocent.”

  “I like to mix it up.” Lizzie flipped her hair off her shoulder.

  “I bet you do,” he said suggestively.

  Umm, still in the car over here, I thought.

  Apparently, he wasn’t getting paid to make us miserable unless flirting with Lizzie counted. Cyrus was watching Lizzie more than he was watching the road as he weaved in and out of traffic like a speed demon. He finally merged off the highway and drove us down a busy street before he pulled the Escalade over in front of a club of some sort. With my hand on the door, I started to exit the Escalade when I saw a group of photographers hovering by the club’s doorway. One of them turned and pointed excitedly at our SUV, but I quickly got back in before Lizzie could even get out.

  “Is there a back entrance?” I asked, slamming the door shut behind me.

  “Yes, of course.” Cyrus pulled away from the curb. Leaning back in my seat, I was thankful that the SUV had tinted windows as the cameras flashed. God, if my mom ever found out what I was really doing. Cyrus waited at a stop light before he made a right and then another right down a small street littered with parked cars on either side before we reached the back of the club. After managing to help Lizzie out of the Escalade with her dress still in place, I shouted over my shoulder at Cyrus, “Thanks!”

  Afraid that the paparazzi could smell our scent a mile away, I quickly ushered Lizzie into the back door. Music was booming inside the club as we entered through the back. Spotting the bouncer, I was hopeful that we were about to get carded, but he just winked at me like he was expecting us.

  “Backstage after party?” He checked with us.

  “Yeah,” I said, exhaling to myself, “that sounds about right.”

  He then led us over to a nearby stairwell, unlatched a black velvet rope, and gestured us up the stairs. “The last doorway,” he added as Lizzie and I passed him and walked up several flights of stairs until we reached the roof.

  Once on top, it was as though we were transported to a fantasy world in India. A small central garden was surrounded by a rectangular cranberry couch that wrapped around its exterior. In various corners of the roof were elevated platforms with large overstuffed pillows in brilliant hues of turquoise, silver, and grays that were nestled next to twinkle-lighted trees. Those less adventurous could choose one of the groupings of dark wicker chairs that were placed near a fully stocked bar. Small lanterns reflected a golden sheen across the darkened tiles below as sitar music played in the background.

  “This is the life,” Lizzie gushed.

  It took me a few minutes until I saw Hawkins settled on a crimson couch in t
he middle of what looked like western Eden. He was surrounded by an adoring group of girls that seemed to be hanging on his every word. There, beside him, was one brunette and one blonde who were both wearing white t-shirts that hugged their humungous fake boobs. Hard as it was for me to believe, one said, “Jack,” and the other said, “Coke.”

  “Nice.” I smiled.

  Just then the girls laughed at something Hawkins had said as his eyes glanced across the crowd in my direction. Looking away before he could catch me spying on him, I faked a yawn and pretended to be interested in Lizzie who was hitting on some guy at the bar. Feeling annoyed, but acting bored, I heard Hawkins say as he approached me, “So you actually showed up?”

  “I didn’t realize that any of this was optional?”

  “Just making small talk.” A devious smile crossed his face.

  Just then a girl with blonde hair and a silver, skimpy dress that barely covered the essentials approached him. “J.T. Hawkins!”

  He gave her a curt nod, but the girl was beyond herself. “Can I get your autograph?!”

  Hawkins flashed a smile before he signed his name on a napkin. After the blonde was ushered away, another girl approached. He exchanged a tense look with Harrison, the nearby bodyguard, before quickly signing another autograph and turning away from the girl.

  “Let’s see if we can’t find somewhere more private to talk.” He led me over to a vacant platform with large turquoise pillows. Harrison, a professional, blocked any unwanted company in front of us. Hawkins bent down and sat on a pillow pulling his legs towards his chest. I looked down at the small space beside him and hesitated.

  “What, do I have cooties?” A glint of amusement lit up his eyes.

  “Actually, that is exactly what I was thinking,” I said, rolling mine. I sat down and due to the tight space was instantly pressed up against him.

  “Well, this is cozy.” He smirked before taking a sip of his drink. His striped red and gray button down shirt was flattering next to his dark hair. Now that I was sitting beside him, I realized that he was as tall as Riley, but just a fraction leaner.

  “So you were saying?” He tilted his head my way.