As soon as we pull into the hotel to shower and change, I spot Moreno waiting in the lobby. We bypass him on purpose, and he knows it judging by the smirk that’s on his face. We ride the elevator in silence, the only noise coming from our beating hearts. We know why he’s here, but the thing is, JD and Harrison get to escape him. I don’t. He’ll be knocking on my door any minute now.
“I think we should go to your room.” It’s JD who suggests this and if it wasn’t socially unacceptable, I’d handcuff both of them to me so they had to come in.
“I agree,” Harrison adds. “He’s been coming after you, alone, when it’s a band decision. Unless he just wants you... ”
I shake my head. “Even if that was the case, he knows I won’t go anywhere without you guys.”
The elevator dings and the door opens. Each step to my penthouse seems to take forever. And it seems like another eternity before the knock comes. Harrison answers the door, holding it open for Moreno to enter.
“Gentlemen,” he says, as if he’s welcome here. He sits in the same chair as he did last time, setting his fedora on the edge. Hospitality indicates I should offer him a drink, but after the meltdown I had the other night, I asked that all liquor be removed from my room.
“Page, can’t pay your bill I see?” he motions to the empty liquor tray.
“Nah, I just have a problem with people who show up to my room, uninvited, and help themselves to my booze.”
Moreno chuckles and pulls out a flask. Seriously, can’t this man go one day without a drink?
“Let’s talk business, boys.”
“Let’s talk restraining order,” Harrison fires back.
Moreno waves it off as if it’s nothing important. We could call the cops, but the likelihood that they’ll care is slim. They’re busy dealing with drug deals and dead prostitutes. Our gripe is a waste of time and Moreno knows it.
He brings his leg up, resting his ankle on his knee. “I’m going to cut to the chase. You need me. After the media frenzy the other day, you need strong representation.”
“You caused that frenzy,” I point out.
“Eh, it was purely to show you what you’ll be dealing with if someone like me isn’t around.”
“This sounds like a threat, Moreno,” Harrison states.
“Just stating the facts.” He shrugs and stares at JD. “You’re young. Make sure these guys make the right decision. If they don’t, you know where to find me.”
“Nah, I think I’ll pass. I’m happy with my mates, ta.”
“I don’t understand why you want us,” I say, as I sit in front of him. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “What can we even offer you?”
Moreno mirrors my position and chuckles. “Sex appeal, fan following, original music, instruments… the list goes on and on. I’m not interested in that pop rock computer shit. I want real music. I’ve told you before; your stage presence alone makes women wet themselves. Sam was right when she signed you.”
“I’m glad you think so, but I’m not sure we’re interested.”
He looks from me, to Harrison and finally to JD. “I think you need to ask your friends what they think.” Moreno doesn’t wait for a response as he gets up and leaves.
“What do you guys think?” I don’t wait, asking them right off.
“I think we have a gig to get to,” Harrison states before standing up and walking out of the room, JD following him. Neither of them says anything else, leaving me to wonder if I’m the only one who feels this way. If I am, I can easily be replaced.
“I think Harrison is going to be beat for our show.” JD is pacing backstage, glancing every now and again at Harrison as he plays for Layla. JD wasn’t around when I first met Harrison. I used to watch him play for multiple bands, night after night. He awed me, which is one of the reasons I needed him with me when I signed with Sam. The other reason is because he was my friend, and I couldn’t see walking this path without him.
“He’ll be fine,” I say, trying to calm JD down. “He’s used to this.” He may not be used to surfing all morning and then coming in to play multiple sets, but I don’t say that to JD.
“No, he used to be. He’s old now.”
I crack a smile and fight off a laugh, but to no avail. I’m buckled over, holding my sides as I laugh at JD. Harrison may be older than him, but he’s not old by any means.
“Stop worrying, we’ll be fine.”
JD shakes his head, throwing his arms up in the air.
“Hey, why don’t you tweet or whatever it is you do. We could use some more people out there.” I point through a small opening and show him the crowd. It’s not what I thought, but better than nothing. I spot Moreno in the back corner. I’m not sure why he’s here – there’s no new talent playing tonight and the one band that could be interested in him is already signed. He’s likely here to get under my skin, which he’s very good at doing.
“I did tweet, but all the birds in LA know I’m married so they don’t want to come see me… us.”
“That’s great, JD. So, because you’re off the market and they can’t hook-up, they’re not our fans anymore?”
He shrugs and offers me a slight “I’m sorry” smile. I grin back, letting him know that I’m just bullshitting him.
“Are you ready for your duets?” Trixie appears next to me with a smug look on her face. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s trying to hook Layla and me up.
“Not interested,” I tell her.
“It’ll be fun, sexy. The women will go nuts and they’ll buy a ticket again for tomorrow night.” Trixie walks way, effectively ending our limited conversation.
“I need some liquid courage,” I say to JD, who is glued to his phone. He’s probably sexting Jenna and I want to get out of here before he drops his drawers and starts taking pics of himself. I send the same shit to Josie, but from the privacy of my hotel room.
The greenroom is fully stocked with booze and food. I make myself a sandwich, eat it quickly and follow it up with a beer and two shots. I’m going to need more if I have to get through performing with Layla. I also need to tell Josie before the pictures hit mainstream. I need to be a better husband in that regard.
Pulling out my phone, I press her name and listen to the ringing on the other end. After four rings, her phone goes to voicemail. I hang up and try again. In between each call I’m taking a shot, numbing myself for having to sing with Layla. It’s not that I don’t like her; it’s the song choices. Each one is sexy and has me saying words I only want to say to my wife. After the third time with no answer, I leave a message.
“I’m about to go on stage. Trixie has asked for some duets with…” I can’t bring myself to say her name. “Remember wh… I love you, Jojo.”
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t say the words “remember what you see isn’t real” because it sounds like I’m trying to cover something up and I’m not. I’m a performer – it’s my job. Josie knows this and accepts it.
Tonight – Liam Page is back.
I haven’t told anyone about this pregnancy. It’s out of fear that I keep the news to myself. How could I, or my body, not have known that I’m pregnant? Yes, I’m one of the lucky ones who didn’t suffer from morning sickness but, as a mother, I should’ve known I have a child growing inside of me. The thought of not knowing and, therefore, not having cared properly for this baby sickens me. I’m afraid to go to the appointment. I’m afraid to hear the words that my pregnancy isn’t viable. I don’t want to see the look on Liam’s face when the doctor says those words.
I close my eyes and mentally chide myself for thinking the worst. Everything could actually be fine and I could be overreacting. Tomorrow holds the answers, and I have to hang on to every positive thought I can until I’m told otherwise.
Liam will be overjoyed when I tell him that I’m pregnant. We’ve been trying for so long, while not as long as some, to me it feels like years. Knowing how he is with Eden, I’m confident Liam will excel with a newborn. I have so many thoughts of him rocking our baby to sleep or singing him, or her, a lullaby that he writes especially for them... although I may have to censor his lyrics.