I’m with the Band

By Melanie Brown
Copyright © 2006

 

Part 12

I just sat there a few moments after brushing my hair, staring at myself in the mirror.  Take a good look at yourself, Mike ol’ boy, I said to myself.  This is the last time anyone will get to see you for two or three months.

I looked down at the array of cosmetics spread before me, no longer the icky goo that I used to consider it.  I studied my image one last time, then picked up the foundation and started to apply it.

From behind me, my brother said, “I still don’t see how you can stand to put that crap on your face.”

I frowned at John’s image in the mirror and said, “Well, at first, I didn’t like it at all.  I didn’t like the way it felt, or smelled or anything.  But this stuff is a lot of fun. And it’s amazing what you can do with it.”

John was unconvinced as he repeated, “Well, I still don’t see how you can stand it.”

“It’s what you get used to.  Besides, if we do any TV appearances, you’re going to have to wear make-up too.”  I looked at John’s reflection in the eye and said in all seriousness, “If you want, just for fun and to see what it’s like, I’ll be happy to do a make-over for you sometime.”

Looking horrified, John said, “I think I’ll pass.”  He started to walk away, and then added, “I don’t know why you’re even bothering with all that today.  We have a visit this morning to Mr. Winter’s office for a meeting, then the real estate agent is going to show Mom some places.”

Now it was my turn to look horrified as I said, “There’s no way I’m going out in public without my make-up on, or my hair fixed!”

“Try not to get too used to being a girl, Mike,” John said as he started walk away.  “It ain’t healthy.”

I shook my head as I watched him go.  After finishing my make-up, I settled for a simple white top and a short pink miniskirt and tennies.

As I was brushing my hair out, I thought about how different this trip to L.A. was compared to the first one.  This time we had to rent a car when we arrived at the airport. No limousine was going to pick us up to take us to Mr. Winter’s office.  We were going to have to get there on our own.  In fact, getting their own car was a high priority for the guys; and I guess for Mom too.  I was still too young to drive and I already knew I would have no say in what kind of car either Mom or John bought.

*   *   *

 

After his secretary notified we had arrived, Mr. Winter’s opened the door to his office and greeted us each with a hearty handshake.  Well, except for me where he just took my hand and gently squeezed it.  He motioned for us to enter his office and directed us to find a place to sit.

His office was very large with a couch along one wall and several plush chairs sprinkled across the room.  His desk was huge and had a large flat panel computer monitor on it.  I was surprised that with the exception of a few neatly stacked sheets of paper, there was nothing else on the desk.

I chose the couch and felt the coolness of the leather against my legs.  Per drilling from Mom (and even from Kayla) I quickly crossed my legs and uselessly tugged on my skirt.  Mom sat next to me and John next to her.

After we were all situated, Mr. Winters said from his desk chair, “Congratulations everyone!  Your CD is a smashing success.  Radio stations across the country are giving your single lots of airplay.  We’re expecting it to go double platinum.  And Michelle’s song is rising even faster on the Country charts.  All your hard work has really paid off.”

The usually unflappable Fritz let out a “Whoop!”

Mom clapped and John jumped up and said, “All right!”  He slapped Fritz on the back and then sat back down.  Sammy high-fived Fritz. Juan just sat there and smiled.

Mr. Winters stood up and walked around to the front of his desk and leaned back against it.  He looked around the room at us as he said, “Guys, I can almost guarantee the studio is going to request a follow-up album.  We also need to start getting you guys some gigs on T.V.  We’ve already started talks with The Tonight Show, The Late Show, and Saturday Night Live.  In a few weeks, you’ll be flying out to New York where you get some more television exposure as well as joining some other bands in a Central Park concert.  Posters are selling well and all the teen magazines are asking for publicity photos.  And Michelle has some contracts for product endorsements she need to look over.  All-in-all, great job!”

Fritz frowned and said, “Why does Michelle get all the endorsement gigs?  There’s some good money in that.”

Mr. Winters frowned right back as he said, “Well, Fritz, if you really want to, I can try to get you some ads endorsing tampons, lipstick, mascara and nail polish.  It might be a hard sell though.”

“Speaking of Michelle,” said John as he leaned forward from the couch.  “How long should we wait before we replace her?”

Looking surprised, Mr. Winters said, “Excuse me?”

I looked around Mom and said, “What are talking about, John?”

John laughed self-consciously and gestured toward me as he said to Mr. Winters, “Seriously.  You can’t expect Mike to keep pretending to be a girl indefinitely, do you?  At some point, we need to have a real girl do this.”

“John!  What the hell do you…” I started to shout, but was cut off by Mr. Winters.

“Young man,” Mr. Winters said condescendingly.  “You can’t possibly be serious. Do you want to torpedo your band before you even get a good start?

In a defensive tone, John shot back, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.  When we start doing concerts and going on talk shows and that shit (sorry Mom), there’s no way people are going to buy Mike as a girl!  I mean, look at her…him.”

Mr. Winters glanced over at me before he said, “I see a very pretty young woman sitting there.  And quite frankly, John, so does everyone else.  Posters of just Michelle are outselling the whole band’s by three to one.  While everyone seems to love your song, and Michelle’s voice is a major component of that, you have a ton of people interested in the band because of Michelle.  We have pre-teen girls who think she’s a great role model and they love the way she dresses and they want to wear their hair and make-up like her.  We have adolescent boys who are buying her posters as soon as they hit the shelves.”

Mr. Winters fell silent a moment as he scanned the faces in the room.  He then said, “I’m not trying to sound harsh, guys, but without Michelle, you’re just another garage band.”

I sat up a little straighter on the couch and smiled.  John flashed me a withering glare, but I didn’t mind.  I just sat there and smiled around the room.  Sammy and Juan smiled back, but Fritz and John just frowned.  I didn’t frown back at them, but I briefly entertained the idea of leaving the band and going solo. 

Mr. Winters then went on about more of the financials, and schedules to appear on local radio stations.  We were scheduled to shoot a video in two weeks.  They were still working out the concept.  I had some more commercials to shoot and of course some more photo shoots.

*   *   *

 

“Honey, you don’t need to go with me with the real estate agent,” said Mom.  “I know that sounds pretty boring.”

“So does hanging around this hotel room!” I said.

“How about if I drop you off at the mall?”

“That’s a good idea,” I said.  “I could go shopping.  I mean, it’s been like hours since I bought my last dress.”

Mom rolled her eyes and said, “I think it’s been longer than that.  Still, they do have movie theaters there.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” I said.  “Just don’t spend all day picking out a house.  Pick one and let’s move in.”

Mom looked at me funny and said, “Even if I found a good one today, we couldn’t move into it tomorrow. You can’t buy a house like you buy a toaster.” 

“Why not?”

Mom smirked and said, “Because lawyers aren’t involved in buying a toaster.”

*   *   *

 

Mom dropped me off at the mall near the movie theater.  At first I felt very conspicuous, wandering around the mall by myself, dressed as a girl.  Then I realized that nobody was going to think it odd to see a teen age girl in a mall, which is what I appeared to be.

I walked up to the theater and examined the marquee. I had seen most of them.  One title caught my eye though as it had just been released.  It was Tommy’s latest movie.  Since I’ve dated the guy, I guessed the least I could do would be to go see his movie.  I was curious if he acted as well as he kissed.  Wait…scratch that...

Anyway, I had a little over an hour before it started, so I thought I’d wander around the mall a bit.  I had never been to this one before, and it was huge.  It was certainly larger than the mall back home.

I passed a couple of shoe stores and a dress store before coming to a music store.  I wondered if they were selling our CD, so I decided to go take a look. 

Sure enough, there was our self titled, “John Gray’s Band” CD nestled in the rack.  On the cover was a nice group photo with a gray background.  I guessed the record company picked gray for a background color to match our last name.  I’m glad we weren’t named “Fuchsia”. 

I looked at the price tag.  Ouch!  I’d probably download this myself if I hadn’t been given a complimentary copy.  I put the CD back in the rack.

I wandered around the store for a few minutes.  At the back was a poster rack.  I wondered if our poster was there.  I hadn’t seen any of them, although Mom had to approve which images were used.

I flipped through the posters.  There were the usual sports posters, posters of nearly naked women, posters of nearly naked men, and alcohol related posters, which I flipped past without pausing.  Then I came to a series of posters of Tommy.  A couple were movie posters and the rest were obviously staged publicity photos.  One in particular that caught my eye was of Tommy in just a swim trunks standing on the beach.  His muscles were certainly well defined. I guess he has a personal trainer.

Then I came to the band’s posters.  These were the pictures taken at that old factory or whatever it was.  The pictures were great.  It was the first time I’d seen them.  I flipped a couple more panels, and then said out loud, “Oh my god!”

These were the posters of just me.  Mom approved these?  They were studio photos of me in various suggestive poses.  I was suddenly not happy that adolescent boys were buying my poster, as I had a very good idea what they were doing with them!

I suddenly felt dirty.  There were no naughty bits showing, since I don’t really have any girl type naughty bits to show.  However, the poses were very sexy.  I couldn’t take my eyes off them.  I was definitely going to have a talk with Mom about these.

A salesman broke my reverie by asking, “Can I help you with something, miss?”

It took a moment or two before I acknowledged that the salesman existed.  I looked over at him and said, “No thanks.  I’m just looking.”

He smiled, nodded and said, “If you need anything, just let me know.”  He started to walk away, and then suddenly stopped.  He looked at me, then looked at the poster and said, “Excuse me, but are you Michelle Grayson?”

I closed the panels together and quickly said, “No.  I just look like her.”

He looked at me closer and asked again, “Are you sure?  Because you look so much like her!”

I held up my hands half way in a gesture of surrender and said, “Okay, okay.  Yes, it’s me.”

His eyes lit up as he said, “Awesome!  I’m a huge fan!  I have one of your posters.  Would you mind signing it?”

Wow.  My first encounter with a real fan, if you don’t count Kayla.  I had been practicing writing in a feminine style, so I felt I was ready to do signings.  I said, “Sure, I’d love to.”

The salesman ran back to an office behind the counter and returned momentarily with a poster in his hand.  I was the one with the most suggestive pose, of course.  As he rolled it flat for me, he said, “Please make it out as, ‘To my good friend Matt’” He handed me a marker.

“No problem, Matt,” I said.  There was a lot of room, so I wrote large, but not too large.  “How’s that?” I asked when I was finished.

“Perfect!” said Matt.  “That’s perfect.  Thanks!”

As I was handing the marker back to Matt, a teenage couple, about high school age entered the music store.  The girl looked at me and folded her arms as she said, “Look, Steve.  It’s your new woman.”

Steve looked up from the CD rack and looked in the direction the girl was pointing.  “Hmmm?  What are you talking…Oh my God!  It’s Michelle Grayson!”  He dropped the CD he was holding back in some random place in the rack and ran towards me.

He just stared at me for a moment, and then blurted, “This is so cool!  I’m a huge fan of yours!  In fact I usually hate country music, but your song is awesome!”

The guy was making me nervous and a few more people trickled into the store.  Hesitantly, I said, “Thanks.  I’m glad you enjoyed my song.”

He turned around and snatched a celebrity magazine from his girlfriend’s hands.  It had my picture on the cover.  “Could you sign this for me?” pleaded Steve.

I asked Matt for the marker back and said, “Sure, no problem.”

No sooner had Steve muttered his thanks, than a copy of the band’s CD was shoved in my face.  A kid with a really a bad acne problem asked, “Can you sign this?  Sign the picture on the inside?”

Suddenly there were several people in the store, rushing to buy either a CD or a poster and then shoving it towards me to sign.  I felt trapped, like a rat.  I was suddenly dizzy with all these people rushing towards me and shouting my name.  In the back of my mind, I thought, so, you wanted to be a celebrity, eh?

Matt seemed to sense my distress as he opened the gate on the counter and gently pulled me to the other side of the counter as he shouted, “Folks!  Please!  I think you’re overwhelming Miss Grayson.  One at a time, please.”  I’m sure that now he couldn’t wait to tell his friends that he actually got to touch Michelle Grayson.

I wanted to ask Matt if there was a back way out.  Then the practical side of me jumped up and suggested this was good publicity.  However, I looked out across the store and really started to feel panic setting in.  People were fogging into the store.  There was just no way I could handle such a mob. 

“Hey everyone!” I shouted.  “I really appreciate everyone one of you, but I can’t stay here all day and sign autographs.  I can only stay here fifteen more minutes before I have to get back to the studio.”  Okay, so I lied.  I didn’t want them to try following me around the mall.

To Matt, I asked in a low voice, “Is there a back way out of here?  And do you sell sunglasses here by any chance?”

Matt nodded and said, “Yes and no.  There is a back way out, but we don’t sell shades here.  I’d be honored if you took mine though.”

I smiled and said, “Thanks!  I’ll pay you for them.”

Shaking his head, Matt said, “Nope.  It’s my pleasure.  Our sales were lagging until you showed up!”

I smiled slightly and said, “Well, I’m glad I could help.”  I signed another poster.

*   *   *

 

I re-entered the mall through the front doors, wearing Matt’s shades and his Dodgers ball cap.  I walked back up to the theater.  The movie was going to start in a little over half an hour.  I decided it was probably best to wait inside the theater.

The girl in the ticket booth didn’t even look at me twice, which was a good thing.  I entered the theater and decided I needed to visit the little girl’s room before heading to the concession stand.

I stood in front of the mirror and removed the cap and sunglasses.  I shook my hair out and stared at myself.  I held up my hand and it was twitching slightly.  How do other famous people handle mobs like that?  Do they just get used to it or do they just have such huge egos that they expect mobs to chase after them?  I didn’t think I could handle one more fan right then.

“I know you,” said a girl that had just exited one of the stalls.  She looked about eighteen, had long, shaggy black hair and was wearing a miniskirt over bicycle shorts and a leather jacket over a t-shirt, along with various piercings. She was staring at me through my reflection in the mirror.  “You’re that chick that got mad at Tommy Kincaid just because he kissed you.  I saw the magazine photos of that.”

I wanted to scream.  Instead I turned to face her and calmly said, “What makes you so sure I’m that girl?  I mean, who wouldn’t want to be kissed by Tommy Kincaid?”

“Exactly,” said the girl as she walked up to me.  “I know who you are.  You’re that Michelle chick whose picture is everywhere!  My God!  I can’t even get through the ‘curse’ without seeing your face.  Do you even use those tampons, or do you just get paid to say you do?”

“Excuse me!?” I said, getting indignant.  “I came in here to go to the bathroom, not to debate who I like to kiss and …and what tampons I use!”

“Sorry, sorry.  I do this to everyone.”  She lifted her arms up in resignation and continued, “That’s why I’m here with all my friends!”  She laughed without humor.  “It’s just that when I saw those pictures, I thought, what’s with that stupid little stuck up bitch, you know?”

“I’m not stuck up.  I’m…”

“No, really.  What are you, like thirteen…fourteen?”

“I’m fourteen.  Can I go to the bathroom now?”

She frightened me a little as she took a couple of steps toward me as she said, “I mean it just bugs me that some little shit bitch like you, who makes CDs and makes commercials and God knows what else, gets offended by someone like Tommy trying to kiss you.  I’m Tommy’s biggest fan but when I tried to get his autograph one time, he wouldn’t even look at me.  You he likes, but you don’t even give a shit.”

This girl was totally whacked.  I no longer felt I needed to go to the bathroom.  I said, “I bet the movie is about to start.  I think I’d better go now.  Thanks for the chat, it was very interesting…”  I started to slowly make my way back towards the door.

She suddenly stepped into my path and said, “No hurry.  You’re here to see Tommy’s movie, right? You still have about ten minutes left.”  Her eyes flashed briefly as she said, “You’ll like the movie.  Tommy is very cute in it, but then, you don’t care.”

“I care,” I said. 

“Yeah, right!” said the girl as she backed up to the door, then opened it to leave.

A feeling of relief swept over me as the door closed and the strange girl was no longer in the restroom.  I hurried to an empty stall, but not the one the strange girl has come out of.  Something was wrong with her, and I didn’t want to catch it.

When I was finished with my business, I cautiously exited the restroom and did a quick scan of the lobby.  The weird girl was nowhere in site.  There were still a few minutes before the movie started, so I hurried over to get a drink and some popcorn.

As I entered the theater playing Tommy’s movie, I did a quick look around, trying to spot a good seat.  I noticed that I wasn’t the only teenage girl in the theater.  Wait, let me rephrase that…there were a lot of teenage girls in the audience.  Just as I was about to sit down, the lights dimmed and the trailers started.

During the movie, I laughed and squealed and cried right along with every girl in the theater.  It was Kayla's fault.  She'd got me hooked on sappy romantic comedies.  In fact, I was wishing Kayla was sitting next to me.  Not as a date, but as my best pal.  I wanted someone to share my enjoyment of the movie with.  When Tommy kissed a girl in the movie, I wanted to whisper teasingly into her ear, "I know what that's like!"

Tommy kissed a lot of girls during the movie.  In fact, I found myself getting annoyed.  I know that sounds stupid.  Why should I care?  But I did.  Although I did take some smug satisfaction that of all the people in the theater, I was the only one that had shared an intimate moment with Tommy.

By the end of the movie, I had come to the conclusion that I had been too hard on Tommy.  He had just been trying to be nice.   I was going to have to give him a call as soon as I got back to the hotel.

*   *   *

 

End Part 12

 

  since 1/20/06