I’m with the Band
By Melanie Brown
Copyright © 2006
Part 15
I was still in a crumpled heap sobbing my eyes out on
the elevator floor when the doors slid open. Three people, two adults and what
appeared to be a twelve year old boy stood hesitantly at the elevator’s
threshold. I looked up and noticed that it wasn’t my floor yet. I glared at
them with a look that probably said something like ‘Get the hell off my
planet!’ I’m sure I looked like a complete mess and I continued to glower at
the group in stony silence.
The woman asked, “Honey, are you all right?”
“No! I’m not!” I snarled. I reached up and slapped
the door close button.
As the doors began to slide closed, the man said,
“Let’s just wait for the next elevator, Hon.”
The boy suddenly pointed and shouted, “Mom! Dad!
Look, it’s Miche…” The rest of what he said was lost as the elevator doors
closed shut.
There were no more stops before arriving at my floor.
The doors slid open and thankfully, there wasn’t anyone waiting. I continued
to lie on the floor and cry for a few more moments. The doors stood open a few
seconds, and then started to close. I quickly stuck my hand between the doors
and the sensor popped the doors back open again. If the doors close, I’ll be
on my way back down, probably back to that same family.
I slowly stood up and wobbled on my heels a moment. I
was crying so hard and was so upset I seemed to have little motor control over
the muscles in my legs. Shaking and crying, I walked slowly down the hall to
our suite.
Mom had been watching television and the moment I
entered the hotel room, her expression switched to one of deep concern as she
rushed over to me. “Michelle! Honey, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you
all right?”
I looked at Mom and I just didn’t want to deal with anything
at the moment. I know I was being too harsh, but I snapped, “No! I’m not!” I
stormed past her and hurried into my bedroom and slammed the door.
I threw myself on the bed and balled up the pillow and
started crying into it.
The doorknob jiggled for a moment. Then there was a
knock on the door and Mom said, slightly muffled through the door, “Michelle.
Please. Let me in.”
“Go away!” I shouted.
“Michelle. Please. What happened? Let’s talk about
it,” said a slightly muffled Mom.
“Leave me alone!” I shouted at the door. “I don’t
want to talk about it!” I buried my face back into the pillow.
I lay there for several minutes, crying
uncontrollably. I just couldn’t seem to stop. In the back of my mind, I kept
telling myself how ridiculous I was for being so upset. And then I thought how
it’s stupid to be upset at myself, when it was Tommy who tried to take
advantage of me.
That creep Tommy! Who did he think he was, huh? I
thought he actually cared about me and then he acted like I was just another
conquest. And why do I care if Tommy cares about me or not? I’m a guy for
chrissakes! I shouldn’t even have gone out with a boy in the first place.
My crying started to slow down. Guys don’t cry. I’m
fourteen after all. I’m almost a man. I looked up at the mirror in my room.
I tugged at my disheveled hair and wanted to cry again. My face was a disaster
with black rings around my eyes and my make-up smeared.
I looked down and saw the stain on my dress and
instantly felt dirty again. I jumped up and removed the dress as quickly as I
could and tossed it into one corner of the room.
Why did I ever go on a date with Tommy in the first
place, I asked myself as I stood there in the middle of my room in just my bra
and panties. It’s not like I have a major crush on him or anything.
I slipped a nightgown on before opening the door to my
room. I looked out and there was Mom, sitting patiently on the couch, looking
worried. She didn’t say anything as I slowly walked out. As I got closer, I
felt the tears start to well up again.
Mom stood up and approached me. “Honey, are you all
right?”
I threw myself into Mom’s extended arms and hugged her
tightly. I buried my face into her blouse and cried, “Oh, Mom! It was awful!
He…he…” My voice dissolved into heaving sobs. Mom led me over to the couch
and directed for me to sit down.
Stroking my hair, Mom said, “It’s okay, Honey. You’re
home now. It’s all right.” She stroked my hair while I continued to cry for a
few more minutes. “Can you tell me what happened?”
I tried to stop crying and gulped some air before
attempting to say anything. Finally I managed to say, “Mom…he…he…he tried to
have sex with me! I don’t understand…he was being so wonderful, so nice.
Everything was so nice. We…we took a walk on the beach and…and it was so
beautiful and then…and then we started kissing. He…he got on top of me and
…and he…” I started crying again at the thought. “He tried to pull my dress
up. I stopped him, Mom. I stopped him…but…he…Mom…he was actually going to do
it…he was going to do it…with me!” I buried my head in Mom’s blouse again and
started crying again.
Mom hugged me tightly as she said indignantly, “That
Tommy! Who does he think he is?!” Then more soothingly to me, she said, “It’s
over. You’re home now.” She rocked her body back and forth, the way she used
to do when I was upset as a child.
She continued to coo and make soothing sounds to me
until I finally stopped crying and relaxed. I sat up and rested my head on
Mom’s shoulder. She held my hand.
Stroking my hair, Mom finally said, “Honey? You need
to tell me exactly what happened, the best that you can remember. From the
time you left until you got home. I know thinking about it is upsetting, but
it’s important.”
I nodded and sniffling, I told Mom about how Tommy had
picked me up in his fancy car and everything that followed. After I had
finished, tears flowed again, but not as bad as a few minutes before. I
continued to hug Mom as she silently digested what I’d told her.
After a minute or two, I looked up at Mom and asked,
“Why Mom? Why did Tommy act that way? I mean, we were holding hands and
kissing on the beach and it was just so romantic. It was just…just so wonderful!
And then he goes and ruins everything!” I shuddered.
“I don’t get it, Mom,” I continued. “I just don’t get
it.” I began to frown as I said, “I hate him, Mom! I hate him. I never want
to see him again!”
“Now, now,” Mom said. “Let’s don’t go overboard here.
I don’t like how Tommy acted, but I honestly don’t think he was trying to force
you to have sex. I think he just got carried away. He stopped when you asked
him to.”
I pulled away from Mom, incredulous. “Are you taking
his side?”
Mom shook her head and said, “No, no, honey. Not at
all. You’re right to be upset with him, and what he did was wrong. I could be
wrong, but I just don’t think he’s evil. I think he’s teenage boy who just got
carried away.”
“I don’t understand! Just because we were kissing,
why does he think he can have sex with me? It makes me so mad because I…” An
icy bolt shot down my spine with the realization of what I was about to say.
“…I…uh…I really liked him.” My voice trailed away.
Mom pulled me into a hug again and softly said, “I
know honey. And I know it’s hard to understand why boys act the way they do.
At his age, a boy is just a bunch of raging hormones and sometimes they’re
overwhelmed by them. Don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t excuse Tommy’s
behavior.”
I sat up slowly and folded my arms. “Well, I’m done
with him. It was stupid of me to go out with him anyway. I’m not even a
girl. I must have lost my mind, Mom. I’m through with Tommy and I’m
definitely through with boys!”
Mom leaned back into the couch and said, “Well, if
Tommy can’t control himself any better than that, you probably shouldn’t see
him any more. At your age, you probably shouldn’t settle down to one boy
anyway.”
“Mom. Weren’t you listening?” I asked. “I told you.
I’m through dating boys. Period. I doubt the band will still be around a year
from now and I can go back to being Mike.”
Mom studied me for a moment before saying, “You’d turn
your back on lucrative singing career?”
I shrugged and said, “Well, if I kept singing, I’d
just about have to get the sex change Mr. Winters was talking about. I
don’t want to be a girl for the rest of my life! Can you imagine me being a
girl forever?”
Mom briefly took on a far away look.
* * *
“Hello?” said a very sleepy voice.
“Kayla, it’s me!” I said into the phone. I was in my
nightie, sitting up in bed with the lights turned off.
“Who?...Michelle?” said Kayla. “Girl, do you realize
it’s after three in the morning?”
“Oh. I forgot about the time difference,” I said, a
little surprised I’d forgotten that Kayla was a couple of time zones away. “I
had a date with Tommy tonight and I needed someone to talk to.”
Her voice sounding more alert, Kayla said, “Really?
You went out with Tommy again?”
“Yeah, it was a real date. We got dressed up and went
to a fancy restaurant on the beach where we took a moon-lit stroll.”
“That’s sooooo romantic, Michelle!” squealed Kayla.
“It must have been like totally dreamy! You have to tell me everything!”
“It certainly started dreamy,” I said, feeling my
emotions starting to build up again. “I was in heaven.” I then related the
story to Kayla, sparing no detail.
There was silence on the other end for a moment after
I finished telling of running through the hotel lobby. “I just can’t believe
that!” breathed Kayla. “I mean, I can’t believe Tommy would do that! Like,
come on! He loves you!”
Even though she couldn’t see it, I still scowled at I
said, “What do you mean? How would you know?”
“It’s obvious,” Kayla said matter-of-factly. “The way
he was acting before he took things too far, the stuff he’s been saying about
you in all the teen magazines. Oh, he’s got the hots for you. Bad.”
“He sure has a strange way to show it.”
“Guys don’t think the way we do. I’m sure he didn’t
even think twice about what he was doing until you told him to stop.”
“What do you mean ‘the way we do’?” I asked.
“I’m not a girl.”
“You’re certainly acting like one!” Kayla paused a
moment then asked, “You want me to tell you what I think?”
“I’m afraid to ask, but okay. Go ahead.” I said.
“I think Tommy is in love with you. And not only
that, I really do believe you love Tommy.”
“You’re out of freakin’ your mind!” I almost screamed,
completely appalled by the idea.
“From the way you said you were kissing him there on
the beach, I’m sure Tommy felt that you wanted him as much as he wanted you,”
Kayla said excitedly. “You gave him the wrong signals and Tommy, being a guy,
could only think of one thing at that point – sex.”
“Oh, so now it’s my fault I was almost raped!”
I yelled angrily into the phone.
“Michelle! Get real! I wouldn’t say that!” Kayla
yelled angrily as well. “I’m just trying to tell you what I think is going on.
I don’t think what Tommy did was right, but I’d be willing to bet that he was
just reacting to you. I know you love him.”
“What?!” I gasped. “You can’t seriously believe for
one moment that I’m in love with Tommy!”
Kayla just laughed. “Why deny it, girl? Why else
would you give Tommy a second chance? Why would you get all dressed up for a
big date? Why would you kiss him passionately on a moon-lit beach? If not in
love, you certainly have a huge crush on him.”
“Kayla, I’m not in love with Tommy,” I asserted. “In
fact, I’m pretty pissed at him!”
“I would be too if the guy I was in love with treated
me that way,” Kayla said seriously. “Any girl would.”
“I’m not a girl, Kayla,” I said, growing angry again.
“And I don’t have a crush on Tommy.”
Sounding frustrated, Kayla asked, “Why do you deny you’re
a girl, Michelle?”
“It’s real easy to prove. All I have to do is take my
clothes off!”
“Did you cry when Tommy violated your trust?” asked
Kayla. “Did you search through your wardrobe several times looking for just
the right dress for your date? Did you fuss over your hair and make-up? Did
you start to feel dreamy while walking on the beach under the moon light? Did
you melt at Tommy’s kiss? Did you do any of these things? Did you, huh? Did
you?”
“Yes! I did all those things!” I almost shouted. “It
just means I’m insane, not a girl!”
In a quiet voice, Kayla said, “It means…that deep down
in your soul…you’re a girl. Denying it doesn’t mean you’re not.”
Frustrated, I said, “And asserting it doesn’t make it
true! Kayla, I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve been seduced by the dark
side and have let myself get carried away in my own desire to be noticed and
liked. But wearing the clothes and even having the crushes, doesn’t make you a
girl. Why are you so insistent that I’m a girl?”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a
few moments. Sounding far away, Kayla said, “In the last couple of months,
I’ve gotten to know Michelle real well. She’s a real sweet girl and a friend I
can trust. I know I can tell her anything.
“I also think I know Mike pretty well. He was a good
friend when we were little but he drifted away when he got older. But you know
what? I think that between the two, Michelle is the real person.”
“Why would you say that?” I asked, my anger oddly
subsiding.
“Well…think about it. Playing video games was about
the only thing you had in common with the other boys. Michelle, we’ve talked
about this before. I’ll be totally honest here. You’ve never really seemed
all that comfortable as a boy. But when you became Michelle, you…well, you just
blossomed! The girls at school noticed a change in you even though you
came to school as a boy.”
“What? Did they think I was a sissy or something?”
“No.” Kayla said flatly. “They thought of you as an
equal.”
Coughing a humorless laugh, I said, “Well that
certainly sucks!”
Sounding offended, Kayla said, “Why? Are girls
beneath you?”
“That’s not what I meant!” I lied. “It means that
none of them would want to date me.”
Kayla let out a muffled, aggravated scream. “I’m
hanging up now. You just don’t get it.”
“Kayla, wait!” I pleaded. I didn’t want her to hang
up mad at me.
“Michelle, you are so much better as a girl. You
know, we were talking about you today. Gina, Holly and the others still don’t
realize you’re Michelle Grayson. You know what Gina said about you?” asked
Kayla.
“I don’t have a clue. What?”
Kayla paused a moment, then said, “She said that
during the last couple of months of school, it almost seemed like you were pretending
to be a boy. The slumber party pretty much completed it. When they were
talking about you, they even said ‘she’.
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” said Kayla. “Michael just doesn’t seem
like the real you any more. And now, it’s late and I’m going back to sleep.
Call me tomorrow. Tah…” And with a click in the receiver, she was gone.
* * *
I stayed home all the next day. The phone rang –
often. I let Mom answer the phone because Tommy tried calling using other
people’s phones. During the times Mom had to leave our suite, I just let the
phone ring.
Flowers were delivered during the day as well. All
from Tommy. At first, I was going to just dump them in the trash, but they
were pretty and smelled nice, so I didn’t.
Later that evening, after Mom answered the phone, she
came into my room.
“That was Mr. Winters,” Mom said. “He wants us down
at the studio tomorrow morning.”
“How come? Does he want all of us or just you and
me?”
Mom sat down on the end of my bed and said, “Just us
two for now. He does want to meet with all of us again this week. Tomorrow he
wants you to run through that Japanese song a few times so they can see how it
sounds.”
Pausing for a deep breath, Mom then continued, “The
big news though is that things are going to start getting busy for us. Mr.
Winters has arranged for appearances on the Tonight Show, The Late Show, and various
other talk shows. He’s arranged for you to be a presenter at various kid type
awards.
“He wants to plan a solo CD for you and get you back
in the studio. He’s going to want John to come up with at least five new songs
and wants us all back in the studio to get a new CD out this fall. He’s also
set up a 10 city tour this summer to promote the current CD.”
I sat down next to Mom and said, “Wow. Things are
really starting to cook. John will be happy. I think he was feeling ignored
by Mr. Winters.”
Mom shook her head knowingly. “John’s very
impatient. He still doesn’t realize just how much work there is in launching a
new act. Hal said that CMT has been pestering the studio for a video of your
solo. So add your video, the band’s video and the video you’re shooting with
that Japanese girl.” Mom paused a moment and said, “But John is till going to
get upset. You’re going to have more appearances than the band.”
It didn’t sink in until later what Mom had said about
me getting more gigs than John. Nope, John wasn’t going to be happy.
I sat there next to Mom in silence for a few moments. Just
as I felt she was about to get off the bed, I asked, “Mom, do you like me
better as a boy, or as a girl?"
Mom sat there in silence for a few moments as well.
"If that isn't a loaded question! Honey, the only thing that's important
is who do you prefer being? Mike or Michelle?"
"That's a cop-out Mom. I want to know what you
think."
It was obvious that she was trying hard not to use a
name or terms of endearment that suggested a particular gender. She said,
"No, dear. It's really not important what I think. It's your life. I can
tell you who I think seems happiest to me, but only you can decide."
Before I could answer, Mom said, "You know,
you're in a fairly unique situation. You're at a crossroads where you have a
choice most people do not get. Most people don't get a choice on whether
they're a boy or a girl. You do."
"Mom, I watch those talk shows sometimes too. I
know about transsexuals. They choose." I said.
Mom smiled and said, “Some would argue about whether
it’s really a choice or not. But their choice is different and most don't have
the opportunity at your age, even though they probably already know who they
want to be. Your difference is that you don't want the change, but have to
choose a path that will be best for you. Why are you asking this?"
I frowned and said, "Kayla. We were talking last
night..."
Mom interrupted saying, "That was kind of late,
wasn't it?"
"Yeah, I woke her up. Anyway, we were talking
and she said she thought I should become a girl. She thought I was better as
Michelle. She said that she and her friends felt that when I was being Mike,
it more like I was pretending to be a boy."
Mom shook her head and said, "Honey, it's not up
to others to decide for you who you should be. My suspicion is that Kayla has
selfish reasons for you to be a girl.”
Furrowing my brow I said, “How can you say that? Kayla
is my best friend. She cares what happens.”
Mom said, “You said it yourself. She’s your best
friend. I’m guessing Kayla likes you, but can’t handle a best friend who is a
boy. If you’re a girl, you can be her friend and she doesn’t have to worry
about you ruining the friendship by asking her out or whatever.”
Mom looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she
asked, “Do you like being Michelle?”
I thought a moment before answering. Reluctantly I
admitted, “Yes. I have to say I do. But it’s all surface stuff. You know…
things like make-up and the clothes. Boy clothes really seem boring now. But
you don’t get a sex change just because you like the clothes better.
“For the most part, I like the way I’m treated,“ I
admitted. “Everyone is usually so nice to me. But, there are things I don’t
like. Like the way guys seem to think I’m stupid, or helpless.”
I paused for a moment, and then asked, “But come on,
Mom. Tell me what you like about Michelle.”
Mom thought a moment, and then said, "I like the
confident young woman. Michelle seems happier than Mike. Michelle is more
emotional, but that's normal for a girl. Michelle is a beautiful girl on the
verge of becoming a star. Everyone loves her." Mom laughs and says,
"Here we are talking about Michelle and Mike as if they're two people.
Honey, all these things are very abstract and have nothing to do with what's
important.
"It doesn't matter if Michelle is a star if
you're going to be miserable as a girl. If you stay Mike, will you regret not
following your dream?"
"I want the dream and stay Mike!" I almost
shouted.
"That might not be possible, Honey. Mr. Winters
feels that you will soar straight to the top as Michelle. As Mike, while you
might find happiness and success, you probably won't be a singing star or an
in-demand model. Honey, I keep telling you, it all comes down to what you're
the most comfortable with. What will ultimately make you happy? It doesn't
matter what others think in the long run. You're the only one who has to live
with her decision."
* * *
We arrived at the studio in a cab. Mom really needs
to buy us a car. I think we can afford one. Later today she was finally going
close a deal on a house she'd found.
As we got out of the cab, I realized I probably should
have given more thought to my appearance. Being a record label's studio
entrance, there were people hanging around outside waiting to catch a glimpse
of a celebrity. I was wearing camouflage pants and a black tank top with my
hair in a pony tail and I was wearing these incredibly huge hoop earrings.
There were shouts of "Look! It's Michelle
Grayson!" and "Over here Michelle!" and people asking for my
autograph. It was a tremendous ego boost. Could I just walk away from this?
We tried to make our way through the crowd as quickly
as possible and still sign some autographs. As I was signing their CD cover,
one girl asked me, "What did Tommy do? You looked so upset!"
I was surprised. Was she at the hotel? I just said,
"Sorry, that's kind of personal." Finally we made it inside the
studio.
Once inside, the receptionist informed us where we
could find Mr. Winters. He was waiting for us in one of the sound studios.
We were passing one of the studios when I spotted a
rest room. “Mom, I need to go.”
“Okay, Honey. I’ll meet you down there.” Mom said as
she continued walking. Over her shoulder she said, “Don’t take all day, okay?”
I took care of my business as quickly as I could.
Sitting down to pee was now so automatic I didn’t even give it a second
thought. I studied myself in the mirror and decided my lipstick needed some
refreshing and that my eyes could use a bit more mascara. I let my hair down
and shook it out, then gathered it back up into a ponytail. I studied myself
up and down in the mirror and decided that I was starting to look too fat.
As I left the restroom, the door to the studio across
the hall opened and some long haired guy in a black t-shirt and baggy pants
stepped out. At first I didn’t think anything of it. And then the guy turned
and looked over at me. At that point, it became evident that I'd spent too
much time with Kayla looking at teen magazines.
Instantly regretting it, I blurted out, "Oh my
God! It's Chad Dumont!" Chad was the top pop singer in the
country and was famous the world over. At seventeen, he was the music bad-boy
that every teen girl wanted to date.
I was giggling like a stupid girl when he looked over
at me, at first looking annoyed that someone had let a fan in. Then his
expression changed and in a mocking tone he raised his hands into the air and
exclaimed in a high pitched voice, "Oh my God! It's Michelle
Grayson!" Then he laughed.
I suddenly became nervous when he started to walk
towards me. I told myself to calm down. He's just another boy, like me.
Except he's a little older and totally gorgeous. Scratch that. That’s
something Kayla would say. In fact, Kayla has said it. Chad is another boy
celeb that she has a major crush on.
Extending his hand toward me, Chad said pleasantly,
“Hello! I was hoping we’d get to meet sometime. I’m a big fan.”
“Really?” I asked stupidly as I limply shook his
hand. Blushing, I said honestly, “Sorry. I usually don’t act this way. I’m
such a huge fan! I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you!” I tried to stop
gushing, but when it comes to pop music, nobody is bigger than Chad Dumont.
This would be like Mom meeting Elvis. Well, okay. Maybe not quite that
big, but big enough.
Chad laughed casually and said, “Don’t worry about
it. I’m used it.”
I took a deep breath and calmed down a little. “I
really am a fan. Your songs are so totally awesome! We even went down to San
Antonio just to watch your concert at the Alamo Dome. It was great!”
Looking a little too self-satisfied, Chad said,
“Thanks. I’m glad you liked it. You know I have a concert right here in L.A.
in about three weeks.”
“I know. I tried to get a ticket for it, but they’re
all sold out.”
Chad shrugged and said, “Don’t worry about it. If you
want to go, you’ve got tickets. Right down front. Backstage pass too. Bring
the rest of the band with you.”
At first I thought of offering to have his children,
but settled for saying, “Thank you so much! That’ll be so awesome!”
“Great!” Chad said. “I certainly hope to see you
there.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he asked, “Are you guys
going to have a concert anytime soon? Like I said, I’m a fan.”
Excited that someone as famous as Chad would be a fan
of our little band, I said, “In fact, we’re going on tour this summer.”
Chad smiled and said, “That’s great! You’ll see me at
least at one of them,” he said sincerely. He glanced at his watch and asked,
“Would you like to join me for lunch in a bit?”
“I’d love to, but I don’t know when we’ll be
finished.” I said, knowing that Mr. Winters was probably growing impatient at
my absence.
Chad smiled again and said, “Oh, they’ll break when we
break. I can pretty much guarantee that.”
Chad must have a lot of power here if he could do
that. I said, “Well, then, sure! I’d love to!” I couldn’t suppress the
giggle. “If you’re sure…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chad said as he started to
turn the other way. “Catch ya later.”
When I walked into the studio, there was Mom standing
next to a less than happy Hal Winters.
Before either Mom or Mr. Winters could say anything, I
blurted, “Mom! I just met Chad Dumont! Can you believe it? And guess what?
He wants me to go to lunch with him! Isn’t that awesome?”
“Yes, that’s awesome dear. I thought you were through
with boys, anyway,” said Mom in a tone that brought my mood down a few notches.
Frowning, I said, “Mom, it’s just lunch…”
Interrupting me, Mr. Winters said, “Miss Grayson, I
believe we have some work to do this morning. But first…” he held up a
tabloid-like paper. “…we can really do with this kind of publicity.”
He handed me the tabloid and there were grainy
pictures of me with Tommy, arriving at the restaurant and then kissing on the
beach. There were actual pictures of Tommy kissing me on the beach! Then
there was a picture of me crying as I ran through the lobby of the hotel. I
couldn’t believe how terrible I looked. I asked, “How do they get these things
published so fast?”
Snatching the tabloid paper from my hands, Mr. Winters
said, “That’s not important. While it wasn’t planned, your little relationship
with Tommy was fueling both music sales and video sales and rentals. I doubt
it will hurt your sales, but a backlash has already started against Tommy
because a lot of his fans believe he hurt you.”
I stood there a moment, looking indignant. Frowning I said,
“He did hurt me. He tried to take advantage of me!”
Shaking his head and gathering up some papers from a
nearby table, Mr. Winters said, “Look miss. Tommy has already told me how you
led him on and made him think he was going to get something that…well, something
you couldn’t give him anyway.” Mr. Winters looked down his nose at me and
frowned.
“Hal,” Mom said. She paused a second then continued,
“Mr. Winters! That’s uncalled for! Michelle didn’t lead anybody on. She
thought she was just going on a nice date with what she thought was a nice
boy. He practically raped her!”
“Mom! Let’s don’t get carried away!” I said. He may
have tried to go too far, but I didn’t want to try to torpedo his career.
Blustering, Mr. Winters all most shouted, “Ms. Gray!
How dare you! If you want to work in this town, I suggest you keep such
outlandish thoughts to yourself!”
Mom backpedaled a little and said, “Okay, maybe not
exactly rape. But he did try to take advantage of her!”
Mr. Winters opened his briefcase and started quickly
stuffing papers into it. As he closed it he said, “Well, it’s obvious that
we’re not going to get any work done today. I have some other pressing things
to attend to.” Turning to Mom, he continued, “Be here tomorrow by eight am and
let’s try to get some work done, shall we?”
Mr. Winters handed Mom some sheet music. He barked,
“Make sure she’s familiar with these songs by tomorrow. We’ll be working on
the arrangements. I’m changing the schedule somewhat so we can get started on
John’s new CD and her new solo CD. I wanted to work on those arrangements
today, but I have to do damage control on Tommy’s career.”
Turning towards me, Mr. Winters said gruffly, “And
you, young lady, be careful what you say. I’m sure the press will sometime in
the next few days hit you up with some questions about Tommy. Just admit that
you over-reacted and try to diffuse the issue.”
“Over reacted!” I almost shouted. “I don’t think so!”
“You’re over reacting now,” Mr. Winters said,
irritated. “It will behoove you to remember what’s in your best interest.” In
a huff, Mr. Winters hurried out of the studio.
Mom sighed and stared at the studio musicians who were
starting to break down their equipment. She said, “Well, that went well…”
“Not!” I said. “This whole thing has been a total
disaster! And all because of a stupid boy! I tell you, Mom. I’m through with
boys. I don’t even know why I tried to date one.” And honestly, I really
don’t know.
Mom handed me the sheet music. She said, “Here, take
these and start looking over them.” She then pulled some money out of her
purse and handed it to me. “Here’s something for cab fare if you need it. I’m
going to chase down Mr. Winters and see if I can calm him down a little bit.
I’m also going to finalize the deal on our new house. So you’re on your own
for the rest of the day, okay?”
I transferred the money to my purse and said, “Sure
Mom. That’s fine.” Mom gave me a quick hug and left the studio. I stood
around for a few minutes, watching the musicians and technicians put up their
stuff. Then I walked out into the hallway.
On my way out of the building, I passed the doors that
led to the studio that Chad had come out of. I tried the door and it wasn’t
locked. I guess he wasn’t recording at the moment. I opened the door and went
inside.
There were several people sitting and standing
around. I could see Chad sitting in a booth wearing headphones, studying some
sheet music. As I found a place to sit down, the warning light that they were
about to start recording came on. A guy I assumed was the producer cued the
folks in the control booth, then turned and cued Chad. Apparently, the band
had already recorded their tracks and they were laying down Chad’s voice track.
I sat there next to a couple of other girls and
listened to Chad sing. He does have a great voice. When I found myself
swaying back and forth with the other girls, I made a conscious effort to stop.
When he finished singing, he glanced out of the small
recording booth and saw me sitting there. He tossed me a quick smile. He
waited until the sound guy had signaled him before saying, “Hey guys, let’s
break for lunch, okay?”
The producer glanced at his watch and said, “It’s a
little early, but sure, okay. Everyone be back here by one.”
Chad exited the booth and started to walk towards me.
The other two girls got up to approach him, but he walked past them without a
glance and said, “Michelle! I’m glad to see you again. What did you think of
the new song?”
I had to beat down the excitement from being a foot
away from Chad Dumont. I had to remind myself that he’s just another guy just
like me. Except he’s not wearing a bra. I said, “It was wonderful! I really
liked it,” I said honestly.
Chad smiled and said, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Coming from such a good singer as you, that’s quite a compliment.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say and just stared at
the floor.
Chad asked, “Want to get some lunch?”
Casually tossing my hair back, I said, “Sure.”
“Great. You like pizza?” I nodded and he continued,
“There’s a great little Italian place around the corner. They make pizza just
like they do back home in Jersey.”
He nodded an obvious ‘let’s go’ gesture and took my
hand and led me from the studio. Chad Dumont was actually holding my hand! In
my head I screamed at myself to stop being such a girl.
I walked quickly to stay up with him. I had a sudden
thought and asked nervously, “Chad, uh, what will Deirdre Huff say about you
taking me to lunch?” Deirdre Huff was presumably Chad’s current high-profile
girlfriend and the female flip-side to Tommy for the movie-going teen boys’
collective heartthrob. She also had a well known temper.
Chad shrugged and said, “Don’t worry about it.
Despite what you have probably read, she’s not my girl friend. Not much,
anyway. What about you? Are you too involved with that actor whats-his-name,
Tommy?”
I shook my head vigorously and said, “No. We are not
dating!”
Chad laughed and said, “Now that we have that out of
the way, let’s go eat.”
I mentally kicked myself because I was crushing on yet
another guy. Are you totally insane?! I shouted to myself.
I looked over at Chad and in a breathless voice, I
audibly answered myself with “Yes…”
* * *
End of Part 15
since 7/09/06