CHAPTER THREE
MEL
Mel sat at the bar and watched. And listened. The music was actually quite good. The energy in the room was invigorating. And she began to remember how bored she was.
Being a music critic had its pitfalls. One of them was when concert-going became a job. She'd seen them all, from head-banging death metal, to the pops orchestra. There were no surprises anymore. No real excitement.
And it was doubly worse now that she had a history with one of the bands.
Look at him. Taylor Hanson. Ladies' man. Singing and flirting with the crowd. Smiling his flirty smile and brushing the little bit of long hair he had left back from his face. His dancing appeared that he was having his way with his instruments. Making all the girls scream and swoon.
Mel wanted to throw up.
She had never developed more hate and resentment for someone in her life. Well, maybe that was a little harsh. She'd shot men before for less. But she definitely had nothing for him and making his life a tad uncomfortable wouldn't hurt her feelings.
And then the light bulb came on above her head.
Or maybe it was the alcohol talking.
But she'd figured out how she could have her cake and eat it, too.
Tay had looked visibly shaken by her presence, and she no longer wanted to be there. He had obviously felt the need to break after their brief encounter and if she remembered correctly, they took only a couple breaks during shows. And Taylor had already cut that in half. Surely they would take another short one. They'd be crazy not to. So, then, when they went on break that's when she would conduct her interview. The critic could pretty much do it any time they chose. Most did it after the show. It was more respectful that way.
As if Tay deserved her respect. Granted, Ike and Zac did deserve her respect, as they had never been nothing but great friends to her. But tonight it was personal.
If he couldn't handle seeing her in the crowd, just wait until he got trapped backstage with her. He wouldn't be right for the rest of the show.
And he deserved every bit of what came to him.
Mel looked around for Big Willie. He had obviously taken a bathroom break. She took that moment to swiftly slip the bartender $50 for another double vodka rocks. Did he hesitate? Of course not. Not for that kind of
money.
She quickly grabbed the drink and made a bee-line for the bathroom. She suddenly realized that she was dying to use it, so she carried her drink into the stall with her. After she had done her business and redressed herself, she pulled the water bottle she had stashed out of her purse and poured out the water into the toilet. Then she replaced the water with the vodka, being careful not to waste a drop. It didn't fill her bottle, but it was plenty to get her through. Mel couldn't remember the last time she'd been drunk. The room was starting to spin and she could feel her body and tongue getting numb. She knew she would be three sheets to the wind by the time she met the guys backstage. This made her giggle out loud.
Big Willie was back at the bar by the time she had all but stumbled back.
"What are you smiling about, Ms. Bradshaw?"
Mel cocked her head in confusion. "I'm not smiling."
Big Willie let out a chuckle. "You got a grin as wide as the Cheshire cat."
Mel giggled and playfully slapped him on his bazooka-sized arm. "No! I'm just, you know, whatever."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Maybe it's a good idea I cut you off when I did. You got a job to do tonight."
Mel mock pouted at him. "Don't spoil the mood by reminding me."
A couple of songs later, the band decided to have their last break. This was Mel's cue. "Okay, Willie. Time to go."
He looked at her incredulously. "Now? Those boys ain't done yet."
"Now's perfect," said Mel. "No worries."
Big Willie reluctantly waded her back toward the stage through the crowd. Once again past the stink-eyed, jealous fans, listening to the nasty remarks made about her. She climbed the steps to the backstage door and her stomach began to nervously flip flop. Luckily she had enough alcohol in her not to care.
Big Willie stopped her at the door. "You want me to go in with you? You gonna be okay for this?"
Mel smiled her drunken, gooney smile. "Everything's all peachy."
Big Willie pounded his over-sized fist on the stage door. It was cracked open by a backstage coordinator. That's a nice term for roadie. The sudden screams from the crowd, excited for a possible Hanson sighting, swelled from behind them at an unnatural volume. Mel proudly displayed her press pass.
"Now? We're doing this now??" the roadie asked, obviously shocked and perturbed by the sudden intrusion.
"It's now or never. I got another gig to be at," she lied. Wow, where had THAT come from?
"Come on in. It'll have to be fast," said the roadie. He led her to a flimsy card table with flimsy folding chairs and invited her to have a seat. "I'll get them for you."
_________________________________________
TAYLOR
Isaac, Taylor, and Zac sat in different places on the brown, leather corner sofa in the next room. Relaxing and discussing the rest of the show and rehashing earlier songs. Nobody dared bring up the previous incident.
A roadie knocked and peeked his head in the door. "Hey, guys, the reporter's here."
Suddenly there was tension. "Now??" Ike asked, shocked.
The roadie shrugged and shook his head. "Says she has somewhere else to get to."
Ike and Zac moaned and groaned in protest, but Tay was the first one to the door. Ike caught up with him and stopped him. "No."
"What do you mean no?" Tay responded.
"Let me and Zac do it. You can't be in this interview."
"I'm in this band too!"
"This is too personal for you. Right now we need to be strictly professional. You know this is what's right for the band."
Tay sighed in protest, but he couldn't argue with Ike. He was right, as always.
Ike and Zac walked out into the other room. Zac conveniently left the door cracked. Tay stood behind the door to listen. He found himself wanting to hear her voice and smell her hair. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he wanted to ignore it but he didn't. It was his wife, Natalie, texting her nightly goodnight. It was one of their little routines when she couldn't tour with him. He was supposed to be onstage right now. She had no way of knowing that instead he was backstage, anxiously waiting to overhear an interview he wasn't invited to, conducted by his childhood best friend and girlfriend. What had he done to deserve this night???
_________________________________
ZAC
Ike and Zac came through the door, Taylorless, and an alcohol-induced grin spread across Mel's face. Inside, she was disappointed Tay wasn't present but the vodka was doing all her talking tonight and on the surface it said otherwise.
She hugged both the guys. Zac wrapped her in a bear hug. "Oh man, it's been YEARS," he said. "Who knew we'd be standing here in this situation, you asking us about our music. Feels unnatural."
Zac was right. It did feel unnatural. It WAS unnatural. Taylor's actions ten years ago were unnatural, running away from her life-long home for the big city was unnatural, her husband's murder was unnatural.
But this was Mel's life. Completely unnatural.
"You smell like a brewery," Zac continued.
Mel drunkenly grinned at him. "It's New York. I don't have to drive. And I have a tape recorder to be my memory. I'm all set!"
Ike hugged her next. "It's so good to see you!" He pulled away and lifted her press pass. "Wow, Bradshaw, huh? You're married now, congratulations!"
From behind the door, Tay's heart sank. He didn't understand why this news affected him. He was married, too. For ten years. The thought made him dizzy.
Mel snatched the pass from Ike's hand. "I'm widowed, actually."
Tay took a blow to the chest from behind the door. His heart ached for her. He longed to hold her and tell her everything would be okay, that life would go on. He also wanted to bang his head to a bloody pulp against the nearest wall. And he knew even that wouldn't knock the sense into him that he very desperately needed.
Ike and Zac's faces fell. "Mel, I'm so sorry," Ike said.
"Yeah, I mean, I don't know what to say," Zac replied.
"Thank you," Mel said. "It's been three years now. At any rate, this is about you and we don't have a lot of time. This will be a short interview, as this is mainly a review and not a full interview. It will be in the Times tomorrow morning. Now I have you guys here, when can I expect a third quote from Taylor?" A lump formed in her throat as she said his name. She was convinced it was vomit.
"Uh, there won't be a quote from Tay," Zac said, shaking his head sadly. "He's, uh, in pretty deep adjusting the acoustic set we're about to do..."
"Acoustics!" Mel chose to ignore Zac's response. Setting her recorder, she asked them about their music progression over the years, about life on the road and their personal lives. She learned that Ike and Zac were now married with children and that sometimes the families traveled on tour and sometimes they didn't. No families for this tour. She also learned that Tay and his wife had never had children. This surprised her. Tay had always wanted children. Lots of them.
It took only five minutes to get what she needed. "Well don't you need to stay for the rest of the show? I mean, to get sufficient material for your article?" Ike asked. Good ole' Ike. Always about the music.
"I really do have what I need," Mel responded. "Don't worry. You're getting a good review. I'm not letting certain train wreck situations have a negative effect on the two of you. YOU two have always been good to me." She hoped Tay could hear her, somewhere.
Zac released a sigh mixed with nerves and relief.
Ike hugged her again. "Well don't be a stranger. It was really good seeing you. We should catch up sometime. Sober."
Zac choked back a laugh. "As if you're any better."
Mel looked at Ike, surprisingly. "Oh, really?"
Ike shook his head and left the room.
Zac walked Mel to the door and hugged her again. "Take care, okay? I understand how you're feeling tonight. Well, some of it. It'll get better."
She smiled back at him. "Thank you. I've really missed you."
"I've missed my therapist," Zac responded with a smile. She knew he was only half joking. Growing up, she and Zac had gotten close as he got into his teen years. He was like a little brother to her. Besides the fact that he and Drew had a hot and heavy relationship. No boy ever stayed a boy after a relationship with Drew. Mel had issued tons of girl advice to Zac during those years.
Zac hid behind the door and opened it for her. The screams swelled once more and as Mel walked past Big Willie and headed down the stage steps, Zac stopped Willie and slipped a folded paper into Willie's hand. "If her tall, blonde counterpart ends up showing up, give her this for me."
"You mean Drew?" Willie asked. He knew Drew about as well as he knew Mel. The Irving wasn't his only gig. He'd also been hired numerous times as security for Drew's cast parties.
Zac smiled and nodded, excitedly. "Yeah."
"Will do, sir."
"Thanks," Zac said and shut the door.
____________________________________
TAYLOR
Taylor practically assaulted Isaac and Zac as they walked back through the door. "She's a widow!"
"Later," Ike responded.
"But her husband's dead!"
"LATER," Ike said firmly. "It's time to go on. We will address this later."
"She's extremely drunk," Zac said, laughing.
Tay met his eyes with a blank expression. "Drunk? So she's not a widow?"
"Let's GO!" It was obvious Ike had reached his limit.
As always, trusty old Ike was right. The show must go on.
MEL
Mel sat at the bar and watched. And listened. The music was actually quite good. The energy in the room was invigorating. And she began to remember how bored she was.
Being a music critic had its pitfalls. One of them was when concert-going became a job. She'd seen them all, from head-banging death metal, to the pops orchestra. There were no surprises anymore. No real excitement.
And it was doubly worse now that she had a history with one of the bands.
Look at him. Taylor Hanson. Ladies' man. Singing and flirting with the crowd. Smiling his flirty smile and brushing the little bit of long hair he had left back from his face. His dancing appeared that he was having his way with his instruments. Making all the girls scream and swoon.
Mel wanted to throw up.
She had never developed more hate and resentment for someone in her life. Well, maybe that was a little harsh. She'd shot men before for less. But she definitely had nothing for him and making his life a tad uncomfortable wouldn't hurt her feelings.
And then the light bulb came on above her head.
Or maybe it was the alcohol talking.
But she'd figured out how she could have her cake and eat it, too.
Tay had looked visibly shaken by her presence, and she no longer wanted to be there. He had obviously felt the need to break after their brief encounter and if she remembered correctly, they took only a couple breaks during shows. And Taylor had already cut that in half. Surely they would take another short one. They'd be crazy not to. So, then, when they went on break that's when she would conduct her interview. The critic could pretty much do it any time they chose. Most did it after the show. It was more respectful that way.
As if Tay deserved her respect. Granted, Ike and Zac did deserve her respect, as they had never been nothing but great friends to her. But tonight it was personal.
If he couldn't handle seeing her in the crowd, just wait until he got trapped backstage with her. He wouldn't be right for the rest of the show.
And he deserved every bit of what came to him.
Mel looked around for Big Willie. He had obviously taken a bathroom break. She took that moment to swiftly slip the bartender $50 for another double vodka rocks. Did he hesitate? Of course not. Not for that kind of
money.
She quickly grabbed the drink and made a bee-line for the bathroom. She suddenly realized that she was dying to use it, so she carried her drink into the stall with her. After she had done her business and redressed herself, she pulled the water bottle she had stashed out of her purse and poured out the water into the toilet. Then she replaced the water with the vodka, being careful not to waste a drop. It didn't fill her bottle, but it was plenty to get her through. Mel couldn't remember the last time she'd been drunk. The room was starting to spin and she could feel her body and tongue getting numb. She knew she would be three sheets to the wind by the time she met the guys backstage. This made her giggle out loud.
Big Willie was back at the bar by the time she had all but stumbled back.
"What are you smiling about, Ms. Bradshaw?"
Mel cocked her head in confusion. "I'm not smiling."
Big Willie let out a chuckle. "You got a grin as wide as the Cheshire cat."
Mel giggled and playfully slapped him on his bazooka-sized arm. "No! I'm just, you know, whatever."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Maybe it's a good idea I cut you off when I did. You got a job to do tonight."
Mel mock pouted at him. "Don't spoil the mood by reminding me."
A couple of songs later, the band decided to have their last break. This was Mel's cue. "Okay, Willie. Time to go."
He looked at her incredulously. "Now? Those boys ain't done yet."
"Now's perfect," said Mel. "No worries."
Big Willie reluctantly waded her back toward the stage through the crowd. Once again past the stink-eyed, jealous fans, listening to the nasty remarks made about her. She climbed the steps to the backstage door and her stomach began to nervously flip flop. Luckily she had enough alcohol in her not to care.
Big Willie stopped her at the door. "You want me to go in with you? You gonna be okay for this?"
Mel smiled her drunken, gooney smile. "Everything's all peachy."
Big Willie pounded his over-sized fist on the stage door. It was cracked open by a backstage coordinator. That's a nice term for roadie. The sudden screams from the crowd, excited for a possible Hanson sighting, swelled from behind them at an unnatural volume. Mel proudly displayed her press pass.
"Now? We're doing this now??" the roadie asked, obviously shocked and perturbed by the sudden intrusion.
"It's now or never. I got another gig to be at," she lied. Wow, where had THAT come from?
"Come on in. It'll have to be fast," said the roadie. He led her to a flimsy card table with flimsy folding chairs and invited her to have a seat. "I'll get them for you."
_________________________________________
TAYLOR
Isaac, Taylor, and Zac sat in different places on the brown, leather corner sofa in the next room. Relaxing and discussing the rest of the show and rehashing earlier songs. Nobody dared bring up the previous incident.
A roadie knocked and peeked his head in the door. "Hey, guys, the reporter's here."
Suddenly there was tension. "Now??" Ike asked, shocked.
The roadie shrugged and shook his head. "Says she has somewhere else to get to."
Ike and Zac moaned and groaned in protest, but Tay was the first one to the door. Ike caught up with him and stopped him. "No."
"What do you mean no?" Tay responded.
"Let me and Zac do it. You can't be in this interview."
"I'm in this band too!"
"This is too personal for you. Right now we need to be strictly professional. You know this is what's right for the band."
Tay sighed in protest, but he couldn't argue with Ike. He was right, as always.
Ike and Zac walked out into the other room. Zac conveniently left the door cracked. Tay stood behind the door to listen. He found himself wanting to hear her voice and smell her hair. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he wanted to ignore it but he didn't. It was his wife, Natalie, texting her nightly goodnight. It was one of their little routines when she couldn't tour with him. He was supposed to be onstage right now. She had no way of knowing that instead he was backstage, anxiously waiting to overhear an interview he wasn't invited to, conducted by his childhood best friend and girlfriend. What had he done to deserve this night???
_________________________________
ZAC
Ike and Zac came through the door, Taylorless, and an alcohol-induced grin spread across Mel's face. Inside, she was disappointed Tay wasn't present but the vodka was doing all her talking tonight and on the surface it said otherwise.
She hugged both the guys. Zac wrapped her in a bear hug. "Oh man, it's been YEARS," he said. "Who knew we'd be standing here in this situation, you asking us about our music. Feels unnatural."
Zac was right. It did feel unnatural. It WAS unnatural. Taylor's actions ten years ago were unnatural, running away from her life-long home for the big city was unnatural, her husband's murder was unnatural.
But this was Mel's life. Completely unnatural.
"You smell like a brewery," Zac continued.
Mel drunkenly grinned at him. "It's New York. I don't have to drive. And I have a tape recorder to be my memory. I'm all set!"
Ike hugged her next. "It's so good to see you!" He pulled away and lifted her press pass. "Wow, Bradshaw, huh? You're married now, congratulations!"
From behind the door, Tay's heart sank. He didn't understand why this news affected him. He was married, too. For ten years. The thought made him dizzy.
Mel snatched the pass from Ike's hand. "I'm widowed, actually."
Tay took a blow to the chest from behind the door. His heart ached for her. He longed to hold her and tell her everything would be okay, that life would go on. He also wanted to bang his head to a bloody pulp against the nearest wall. And he knew even that wouldn't knock the sense into him that he very desperately needed.
Ike and Zac's faces fell. "Mel, I'm so sorry," Ike said.
"Yeah, I mean, I don't know what to say," Zac replied.
"Thank you," Mel said. "It's been three years now. At any rate, this is about you and we don't have a lot of time. This will be a short interview, as this is mainly a review and not a full interview. It will be in the Times tomorrow morning. Now I have you guys here, when can I expect a third quote from Taylor?" A lump formed in her throat as she said his name. She was convinced it was vomit.
"Uh, there won't be a quote from Tay," Zac said, shaking his head sadly. "He's, uh, in pretty deep adjusting the acoustic set we're about to do..."
"Acoustics!" Mel chose to ignore Zac's response. Setting her recorder, she asked them about their music progression over the years, about life on the road and their personal lives. She learned that Ike and Zac were now married with children and that sometimes the families traveled on tour and sometimes they didn't. No families for this tour. She also learned that Tay and his wife had never had children. This surprised her. Tay had always wanted children. Lots of them.
It took only five minutes to get what she needed. "Well don't you need to stay for the rest of the show? I mean, to get sufficient material for your article?" Ike asked. Good ole' Ike. Always about the music.
"I really do have what I need," Mel responded. "Don't worry. You're getting a good review. I'm not letting certain train wreck situations have a negative effect on the two of you. YOU two have always been good to me." She hoped Tay could hear her, somewhere.
Zac released a sigh mixed with nerves and relief.
Ike hugged her again. "Well don't be a stranger. It was really good seeing you. We should catch up sometime. Sober."
Zac choked back a laugh. "As if you're any better."
Mel looked at Ike, surprisingly. "Oh, really?"
Ike shook his head and left the room.
Zac walked Mel to the door and hugged her again. "Take care, okay? I understand how you're feeling tonight. Well, some of it. It'll get better."
She smiled back at him. "Thank you. I've really missed you."
"I've missed my therapist," Zac responded with a smile. She knew he was only half joking. Growing up, she and Zac had gotten close as he got into his teen years. He was like a little brother to her. Besides the fact that he and Drew had a hot and heavy relationship. No boy ever stayed a boy after a relationship with Drew. Mel had issued tons of girl advice to Zac during those years.
Zac hid behind the door and opened it for her. The screams swelled once more and as Mel walked past Big Willie and headed down the stage steps, Zac stopped Willie and slipped a folded paper into Willie's hand. "If her tall, blonde counterpart ends up showing up, give her this for me."
"You mean Drew?" Willie asked. He knew Drew about as well as he knew Mel. The Irving wasn't his only gig. He'd also been hired numerous times as security for Drew's cast parties.
Zac smiled and nodded, excitedly. "Yeah."
"Will do, sir."
"Thanks," Zac said and shut the door.
____________________________________
TAYLOR
Taylor practically assaulted Isaac and Zac as they walked back through the door. "She's a widow!"
"Later," Ike responded.
"But her husband's dead!"
"LATER," Ike said firmly. "It's time to go on. We will address this later."
"She's extremely drunk," Zac said, laughing.
Tay met his eyes with a blank expression. "Drunk? So she's not a widow?"
"Let's GO!" It was obvious Ike had reached his limit.
As always, trusty old Ike was right. The show must go on.