Backstage Pass: V.I.P.

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

Shoes of every imaginable fashion statement treaded parallel to my face and I tried to remember where I was and why I was on the floor. Music blared to my right and three sets of hands tried to right me. I didn’t put up much of a fight and something heavy weighed my lower leg down . . . Oh, that’s right, I was in a cast.

“Sasha? Baby, are you okay?” Jesse’s face swam before me and I gave him a loopy smile. Must have hit my head pretty hard. Either that or we’d been drinking. Kerri wiggled her way between us and grasped both sides of my head, firmly yanking my face to hers. “Do we need to go?”

There was an urgency in her voice and I was just concussed enough that the puzzle pieces weren’t quite fitting together. Then I remember who belonged to the final set of hands. My father took a large step backward, clearly unsure how I was going to react to seeing him after—what, a decade?

In a truly cliché moment, I really had rehearsed this moment thousands and thousands of times, imagined all the ways we’d meet, knew exactly what to say. But it was true what they say—it never happens how you picture it. And words failed me . . . hell, I was barely keeping myself upright, carrying on a meaningful discussion was so far out of the question.

I was baffled that he was here, but then again, why wouldn’t he be? Biggest collection of superstar rock bands of the last six decades . . . he held that title for at least three of them.

Jesse’s fingers squeezed my shoulder and our gazes clashed. He jerked backward at whatever agony and pain stretched across my face. Without pause, he scooped me up and rushed us out to the band parking lot. I curled into the smallest ball I could in his arms and fought the tears. First, I needed to hold it together long enough to explain.

Kerri raced behind us, my crutches held aloft like a ship mast. In the parking lot, Jesse skirted the big busses until he found a mostly deserted spot and squatted down on the pavement. His warm hand cradled my face and held it tight against his chest. “I’m so sorry, babe. I wish you’d have told me. I never would have made you come tonight.”

I shook my head and pull back to look at him. “It’s not your fault. I obviously didn’t think—” My throat tightened. “Will you take me home?”

He glanced up at Kerri. She settled her hand against the crown of my head and nodded. “Let’s go.”

We were a melancholy buoy in the river of excited groupies. Part of me felt awful for making Kerri and Jesse leave when my problems shouldn’t affect them in the least, but I knew managing by myself was impossible. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh.” Jesse squeezed me tighter and Kerri closed our exposed edge, pressing tight against Jesse’s side.

“The car is around that edge.” Kerri lifted her hand off my shoulder long enough to point, then brushed my cheek. In silence, Jesse loaded me into the car and drove us to my place. I could only imagine the dozens of questions rolling around in his head. Everyone even remotely associated with music knew who my dad’s band was. A rocker like Jesse—who’d covered their songs—knew exactly who my dad was, and probably even idolized him.

But, hadn’t we all?

Afternoon made her slow crawl into evening as we skirted rush-hour traffic and took side roads back to my house. I counted trees to keep my mind off . . . everything. Four-hundred and six trees later, Jesse pulled into the driveway, jostling my mind back to the present.

Kerri unlocked the door and held it open while Jesse carried me in. “Bed or couch?”

As badly as I wanted to crawl under the covers and come out next Tuesday, I knew they both needed to process what had happened. And okay, maybe I did too. “Couch.”

Jesse sighed in relief and settled me on one end.

“I’ll go grab booze and dinner.” Kerri pulled the door almost closed, hovering for a moment on the threshold. “Unless you want me to stay . . .”

I shook my head. “I’ll only bring him up to speed, nothing you don’t already know.”

She raced back across the living room and scooped me into her arms, cradling the back of my head. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m so sorry he had to ruin tonight for us.”

I nodded into her fragrant curls. “Me too, Ker. Me too.”

She rocked back on her heels, brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, and stood. “I’ll only be a minute.”

I tried to smile, but it wobbled.

Jesse handed her a wad of cash and squeezed her hand. They exchanged looks of worry but Kerri finally left even though I was pretty sure she didn’t feel good about handing over my care, no matter how she felt about Jesse. She’d been the sole witness to my ups and downs about my dad—far more often downward trends—and knew this wasn’t an easy space for me.

Jesse eased onto the edge of the couch and cradled my hand in his lap. His long fingers traced mine and I tried to figure out where to start. “So that’s my dad.”

He looked up with a sad smile. “Guess that explains the musician thing.”

“Does it?” I eased higher on the couch arm and angled myself into the corner. Entwining our fingers, I tugged him between my legs and laid my cheek on his back. I wasn’t sure I could tell the whole story with him watching me with those expressive eyes. Too many of the story parts painted musicians in a horribly skewed etch-a-sketch view and I just needed him to listen.

And somehow I needed to keep from losing all the ground we’d made these last weeks. Jesse wasn’t my dad. Tears welled in my eyes and I twisted my face into his shirt and inhaled.

He pulled my arms forward and settled our hands on his stomach. “You okay?”

I nodded, rubbing my nose against him. This would only be horrible if I kept stalling. With a sigh, I propped my chin on his shoulder. My voice stayed low and quiet, the words barely making it to his ear, inches away. “It’s always been mostly my mom and me. He—obviously—was on tour a lot. Then one day, when I was ten, he never came home.” The words came haltingly.

Jesse squeezed my fingers and I was sure he struggled for something helpful to say—people always did when they found out. They were always so conflicted between being star-struck and feeling lousy that I got ditched.

“It didn’t change much. Even when he was around, I always felt like he’d rather be somewhere else—either writing a new track or performing. He was fun, and I genuinely liked hanging out with him, but there were a lot of days I dreamt about having an accountant for a dad.”

Jesse chuckled softly, barely moving our fingers up and down as it rumbled in his torso.

“Just goes to show that we never know how the other half truly lives. I was on the other side of that mirror, desperately wishing for a dad who appreciated music.
” He drew our hands to his mouth and pressed his lips against my fingers. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hijack your story.”

I smiled and kissed the warm skin of his neck. “Thanks for listening. There really isn’t much else to tell.”

He twisted and scooped me against his chest. “I’m sorry.”

My hair muffled his words and tears burned my eyes. I was still surprised that I hadn’t had a total meltdown. Again, these things never seem to happen like you imagine.

Jesse released me and stood, pacing back and forth between the couch and coffee table, careful of my cast. “I’m sorry I ever wasted energy on liking him,” he said, looking down at me still on the couch.

“You couldn’t have known he was my dad.”

“No, but I could have known he was a douche.”

My eyes widened. “For being a rock star? I mean, really, he didn’t do anything a thousand other rockers haven’t.”

He stopped at the end of the coffee table. “Is that what you think?” His arms rose and fell helplessly at his sides. “Obviously it is, that’s why you never date musicians. You think we’re all douche bags.”

I held out my hands to him. “Not all of them. You’re teaching me that I’ve made a pretty big stereotype that has to be broken.”

Kerri rushed through the door, Chinese boxes and a brown paper bag overflowing in her arms. Jesse took them from her, set everything on the kitchen counter, and resumed his pacing. “It doesn’t matter. If he walked out, he’s a douche. I don’t want to waste any more time on him. Good for your mom for not letting him in your life.”

That took me aback. The more I was around him, the more I wanted to check out his family. “Where’d you come up with such an interesting moral code?”

“My dad wasn’t a douche.”

I laughed. Kerri popped her head around the cabinet as she pulled down plates, eyes wide and staring from Jesse to me. In all the years we’d talked about my dad, I’d never once laughed.

Jesse took the cartons out of the bag and carried a tower of deep-fried goodness to the coffee table. Kerri added plates, booze, and four huge glasses.

I cocked my head and counted again, then scowled. Surely, this wasn’t another of Kerri’s well-intentioned match-making. “Please tell me you didn’t do something stupid.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh!” Then she realized I was worried my dad would be arriving any minute. “God, no! I ran into—”

The door opened and we all jumped.

“Hey.” Axel stood in the doorway.

My shoulders sagged in relief and Jesse loosened his grip on my knee.

Kerri blushed and shrugged. “Figured you could use all the moral support I could muster.”

I caught her fingers and squeezed. “Thanks.”

Axel crossed the room, gave Kerri a quick peck and gathered me against him in a huge hug. “I made her bring me. She told me what happened.” He rocked back on his heels and bumped knuckles with Jesse, then turned back to me. “I’m so sorry.”

I shrugged it off. “Now my deepest, darkest secret’s out.”

A sad smile turned up the edges of his lips and he grabbed the neck of a bottle, pouring us all a drink. “By the end of tonight, none of us will know who our dads are.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Jesse handed me a cup and we clinked our plastic cups.

The whiskey burned and settled warmly into the recesses of both my stomach and heart. Everything was going to be okay. I’d survived meeting my dad again, I’d survived dating a musician.

I exhaled and took another swallow.

The shrill ring of my landline jerked me upright, sloshing Jesse with a wave of liquor.

“Sorry!” I dabbed at his sleeve with the tail of my shirt.

Kerri grabbed the phone, laughing. “Sasha’s pad.” Her smile fell, and she stiffened, instantly dousing the room’s mood. I shifted my weight and lowered my cast to the floor. Her eyes clashed with mine and watered.

Axel rushed to her side, draping an arm around her waist for support. “She’s right here.”

I tore my gaze away and pleaded with Jesse for help. I didn’t know for what, only that I didn’t want to answer this phone. He rose and took it, then handed it to me, sandwiching the phone and my hand between his.

I let him infuse me with his strength before I answered. On the other end, my mother’s hysterical crying punched me in the gut. “Mom! What’s wrong?”

“Your dad had a heart attack. He’s in the hospital.”

In the space of three heartbeats I went through an entire marathon of emotion, finally realizing she meant my ‘real’ dad, the man who she’d married when I turned fourteen, the man who’d raised me.

“I’ll be right there.”

She gulped down air, and I pressed the phone tighter against my ear. “Mom. Mom, are you okay?”

After another wobbly breath, she swallowed. “You need to stay in school. I just knew you’d want to know. He’s stable. They’ll move him out of the ICU within the hour and just keep him for observation tonight. They say he’ll be fine.”