Sinners On Tour 01 Backstage Pass (22 page)

Sed’s laughter trailed off. “Wel , of course she’s coming with us. She’s your fucking muse, Brian. I just can’t believe this amazing stroke of luck. She’s offering to pay us to help you write songs.”

She turned her head to look at Sed. “No, you’ve got it al wrong. I’m not doing this to stay with Brian. This is for work.”

Sed grinned. “Like the reason matters. Yeah, I say you’re welcome to tour with us. What do the rest of you say?”

Trey blew a huff of air through his lips. “Have you seen these licks Brian’s been writing?” He swept a hand toward the stack of music on the table. “I was prepared to kidnap her
and
her little dog. Yeah, she stays. Of course she stays.”

“No objection,” Jace said.

“I have one condition,” Eric said. He lifted a finger into the air.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is no,” Brian said.

“Damn.” He scowled. “But—”

“No.”

“Fine, since you insist, she’l sleep in my bunk with me. The sacrifices I make for this band.”

Myrna shook her head at Eric in disbelief.

Brian took her chin between his finger and thumb and lifted her face to look at him. He searched her eyes and then lowered his head to kiss her. The grant letter tumbled from her fingers as she clung to the skin of his bare chest. Three months with Brian? Yeah, she might be able to handle that.

“It’s just a few more days, Brian,” she said into her cel phone as she walked to her car after work. “I have a bunch of things to take care of here first. I do have a life, you know.”

“It’s just… I’m going crazy with missing you.”

She smiled. “I miss you, too. Thanks for the flowers, by the way.”

“Flowers?”

“Don’t play coy. They were signed,
See You Soon
, so it had to be you. And how did you know gladiolas were my favorite flower?”

“I should have sent you flowers, but I can’t take credit. Who would send you flowers?”

“They weren’t from you?” She bit her lip. Who would send her flowers? Her parents maybe? Or one of her sisters?

“No, they weren’t from me. Is some bozo hitting on you?” He sounded more upset than he should be.

“Nah. Probably from my parents. So, where wil you be on Saturday? I should be able to get out of town by then.” She unlocked her car and slid her laptop case across the front seat.

“Saturday? That’s five days away!”

“Friday night? I might be able to swing that, but it doesn’t look good. I need to pack. Get al my obligations in order. The work week doesn’t end until Friday and final grades are due tomorrow. I’l be up al night grading.” She smiled to herself, knowing the reason for her being behind in her grading was on the other end of the line. Every minute spent with that reason was worth missing out on a night of sleep. “Be patient just a little longer. I promise I’l make it up to you.”

“I just miss you.”

“Brian, we’ve only been apart for one night.”

“I know. I know.” He sighed. “Let me check the schedule.”

She climbed into the Thunderbird and waited for Brian to speak.

“Friday. Um… We’l be in Nebraska. Looks like Lincoln.”

“That’s about four hours from here.”

“That’s not far,” he said, an excited edge to his voice.

“What time is your show?”

“We go on at ten. We have three bands opening for us. The actual show starts at six-thirty.”

“I’l probably miss it, but I’l try to get there. I wil see you afterwards. I promise.”

“Or we can skip the show, meet in Vegas and get married.”

“No, we cannot.”

“Are you sure there isn’t some guy making his move on you?”

“Good-bye, Brian.”

He sighed. “I’l cal you later.”

She flipped her phone closed and tossed it into her purse. She backed the car out of her parking space and headed for her apartment on the north side of the city.

Brian was already getting too close. Too clingy. She didn’t do clingy. It made her nervous. And jealous? Jealous led to protective.

And protective drove her nuts. She liked him, probably more than she should, but she wasn’t prepared to make a long-term commitment. And he kept bringing up this marriage thing. She knew he was joking, but stil …

Marriage?
Myrna shuddered.

Myrna parked her car behind the Lied Center in Lincoln, Nebraska. The throbbing sounds of the concert rattled her dashboard. The drive had been long and uneventful, but she was tired. Driving four hours after a ful day at work and an insane amount of packing wasn’t advisable. She climbed from the car and headed for the end of the barrier fence. She’d just wait for the band on the bus and send a roadie after her luggage.

A security guard in a bright yel ow shirt stopped her from entering the area in front of the waiting buses.

“I’m with the band,” Myrna told the guard. He had a six-pack stomach. The kind produced by consuming a six-pack of beer every night.

“I’ve heard that before,” he said. “You can’t go past the barrier.”

“So I’m just supposed to wait here until the band comes out and validates my story.”

“That’s the only way you’re getting past me.”

She sighed loudly, too tired to be patient. “Are there any roadies around? They know me.”

“Promising roadies favors won’t get them to lie for you.”

“Ugh! I could strangle you. When does the show end?”

He checked his watch. “Forty minutes or so.”

She might as wel sit in her car. “When Brian or any of the other guys blow through here, tel him Myrna Evans is waiting in her car.

And she’s not very happy about it after driving for four hours.”

“You’re Myrna?”

“Yeah.”

“ID?”

She shuffled through her purse until she found her driver’s license. She handed it to him. He inspected it careful y as if she were some fifteen-year-old trying to sneak into a nightclub.

“Al right,” he said final y, handing her license back to her. “That guitarist guy kept coming out here asking if anyone had seen you before their show started.”

She smiled. Eager to see her, was he? The guard shoved the metal fence piece slightly so she could squeeze between two of the barriers. “Thanks for keeping my guys safe.” She patted him on the cheek and walked the inside of the barrier toward the building.

Several fans mil ed near the back door, waiting for the band to come outside. Maybe now would be a good time to do a preliminary survey for her research.

Nothing formal. She didn’t have her survey questions set yet, but she could do a few informal interviews to get a better idea of how to ask questions. The hardest part about studying psychology was getting the questions worded properly to avoid leading the subject or introducing her personal bias.

She approached a young scantily clad woman.

“Hel o,” Myrna said to the woman. “Can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

“How did you get on that side?” she asked.

“I’m with the band.”

She glanced at the security guard and whispered to Myrna, “Can you get me backstage?”

“No. Sorry. Why do you want backstage?”

“So I can meet Trey Mil s. Why else?”

“He’s a great guy. Incredibly talented,” Myrna said. “What do you know about him?”

“Uh, everything. His birthday is June 9th. He has seventeen tats and twelve piercings. His real name is Terrance, which he hates, so he goes by Trey. His middle name is Charles. Trey was born and raised in Los Angeles. His best friend is Brian “Master” Sinclair, who he met when he was eleven and they started a band cal ed Crysys in 8th grade. He had a dog named Sparky when he was a kid.

It got hit by a car. You know their song, “Good-bye Is Not Forever?” Trey wrote that about his dog. He—”

“Okay, you do seem to know everything about him. Why do you want to meet him?”

“Duh. He’s Trey Mil s.”

“Yes, I know who he is. Why do you want to meet him?”

“I love him. I want him. I need him.” She clutched her hands in front of her chest and rol ed her eyes for emphasis.

“And what do you hope comes from this meeting?”

She laughed. “A baby. Are you a reporter or something?”

“No, I’m just curious. So you want to have sex with Trey Mil s?”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t you?”

Myrna laughed uneasily. “I have other interests. Have you had these feelings for any other men? Study their lives in detail, think you know them, profess to love them, and try to have intercourse with them?”

She shrugged. “Just other band members.”

“Let’s say that Trey isn’t interested in you, but Jace Seymour invites you to the tour bus for sex, do you go?”

Her brow furrowed. “Yeah, I’d do Jace. He’s hot. He might introduce me to Trey. A win-win situation. You know what would real y be awesome? A threesome with Trey and Master Sin—”

Myrna lifted her hand to silence her. “So how do you act toward regular men? Ones who aren’t famous.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you regularly engage in promiscuous sex?”

The girl stared at her for a long moment. “Are you asking if I’m easy?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She shrugged. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“As long as you’re okay with it, it’s fine. Have you ever had sex with a man you’ve just met?”

She looked puzzled, as if thinking hurt her brain. “On a first date, you mean?”

“No, I mean, some hot guy comes out of that door, walks up to you and says, ‘Let’s have sex.’ Do you go?”

She scowled. “No, that’s sick.”

“Let’s say Trey Mil s comes out of that door, walks up to you and says, ‘Let’s have sex.’ Do you go?”

“Yeah. I already said I would.”

“What’s the difference between the first guy and Trey?”

She paused and then shrugged. “I know Trey.”

“You know facts about Trey’s life, but you don’t
know
him. You’ve never met him, have you?”

“I
do
know him,” she spat. “I love Trey. And as soon as he meets me, he’l love me back. Understand?”

“Yeah, I think I’m starting to understand, actual y. I real y appreciate your talking to me.”

“So can you introduce me to him?”

“I’l put in a good word for you.”

She smiled. “That would be awesome!” She pul ed a tube of lip gloss from her tiny purse and applied several coats.

Myrna talked to several other young women while she waited for Brian to finish his show. A trend emerged among them. They al had similar attitudes. She even found a girl in love with Brian. Talking to her was weird.

“How long have you been in love with Brian?”

“He prefers Master Sinclair, actual y.” The girl rol ed eyes surrounded with far too much blue eyeliner.

Myrna knew for a fact that he didn’t,
actually
, but let Fan Girl think what she would.

“Um,” the girl continued. “I saw him live a couple of years ago, before the band got real y famous. Have you seen him on stage?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t he sexy?”

“Yeah. He’s definitely sexy.”

“And when he fingers his guitar, like…” She wriggled her fingers in rapid succession. “It’s like, oh my God, I want him, you know?”

“Yeah. I total y get that. How do you know you’re in love with him?”

“I think about him constantly. I have every picture of him ever taken taped to my wal . I watch his videos in slow motion.”

Creeped out, Myrna didn’t bother suppressing a shudder. “Isn’t that obsession, not love?”

“No, it’s definitely love. I’d do anything for him.”

She couldn’t stomach talking about Brian with obsessed fans any longer. “Thanks for talking to me.”

“Can you hook me up with Brian?”

Fuck no.
She smiled at the girl. “I don’t think he’s interested, honey.”

Maybe she should stick with studying the rest of the band’s groupies, but avoid Brian’s.

The back door swung open. Brian emerged, steam rising from his skin as the cool evening air hit his sweat-drenched body. He raced toward her and wrapped her in his arms, seeking her mouth for a welcoming kiss. Camera flashes went off. Something slammed into the back of Myrna’s head. Hard.

She jerked away from Brian, rubbing her scalp. “Ow.”

Brian looked down at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Something hit me,” she said, her eyes watery with tears. “It real y hurt.”

He retrieved a black ankle boot from the ground. “Who threw this?” he demanded, scanning the congregated fans.

Only one girl stood beyond the barrier with a matching boot on one foot and nothing on the other. Brian approached the girl and shook the boot in her face. She flinched. It was the same girl who had claimed to be in love with Brian minutes before. “Did you hit my girlfriend with this?”

“Your girlfriend!” she wailed.

“Your girlfriend?” Myrna murmured.

Myrna rubbed the lump on her head, stunned more by his words than being clobbered in the back of the head.

“I’m sorry, Master Sinclair,” the fan girl said. “I love you. I love you.”

“And you think hitting someone I care about in the back of the head wil get positive attention from me?”

“I didn’t mean to,” the girl cried, tears pouring down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

He shoved the boot into the young woman’s chest. “Get out of here!”

He looked at the back of Myrna’s head, fingering the lump there. She sucked a pained breath through her teeth.

“Are you okay, baby? I think this is bleeding.” He looked down at his fingertips for signs of blood.

The rest of the band exited the building then. Sed paused in front of Myrna, who looked up at him, stil grimacing in pain.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Some bitch hit her in the back of the head with a boot.” Brian touched the lump on the back of her head again. She wished he would stop already.

“What is this?” Brian asked, fingering the back of her head again. “A scar? What—”

She twisted away from him. “It’s nothing.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Sed said. They ignored the group of fans who were growing in number by the minute and went directly to the bus. Sed told the girls fol owing him to wait outside.