Fan Girl (10 page)

“You’re American. Where are you from?”

“Los Angeles. I just came in here to get some food,” I tell him, weakly. Maybe he does remember me.

He reaches over and takes a bite of my food, bringing his cologne so close I want to do a face plant into his chest.  I refrain.

“The food sucks,” he replies. I can’t help but laugh, because it does suck.

“Yes, yes it does. I didn’t know that when the hotel sent me here.  The doorman may have been saying everything else was closed.”

He watches me then looks out at the dance floor. “Do you dance?”  he asks.

Sighing again, I nod. Dance with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in a half-filled bar in Paris? Why yes, I do dance. Very well, thank you. You should remember that, and maybe you would if you saw my neck, since your mouth was attached to it.

“Do you want to?" He gets off of the stool and holds out his hand for me.

I set my drink down, uncross my legs and stand up, putting my cell phone in my bra. My own personal storage. Thank Jesus I didn’t bring a purse. I put my hand in his and get chills again. This man. Oh my God.

He walks out to the dance floor and turns to me. Even with my heels on, my forehead only comes to his chin. He grabs my hand and pulls it behind him, effectively plastering me to his body, then starts moving to the beat. I widen my legs some, and he situates a knee between them. Putting his hands on my upper back, I put mine on his ribcage.

He smells like Diesel cologne again, and I want to bury my face in his neck and just inhale. We dance forever, grinding. I’m so worked up I might have a heart attack.
Royals
by Lorde comes on and it’s meant to be, I think. This is kind of becoming our song. I lock eyes with him, and he smirks at me. Oh my God, he does remember. I laugh my shock and get more into it, lift my hands to his shoulders, rolling my hips from side to side and mouthing the words. It's a total do me song if there ever was one. He moves his hands to my lower back and watches me with that half-smirk on his lips. So. Hot. I run my hands over his chest, I can’t help it. He's ripped. I can feel his tight muscles flexing to hold my back as I lean into his hands. I never close my eyes. I’m not missing a thing. His eyes keep moving over me. His rhythm is perfect. It’s always perfect.

After that song, the unmistakable beat of his own song starts playing. He freezes. There's a slow grin on my face that I can’t help. Oh, this is hysterical. He has said in interviews that he hates to hear his songs played back, hates singing when he's not on stage. He is not going to want to dance to this song. I pull away and start jumping. His face shows shock, and he shakes his head no. I laugh and say, “Oh yes.” He knows I know who he is now. This song is about meeting a girl in a club and getting lucky, but it's upbeat, more peppy than his other songs. It's also the most recent single off of the new album.

I grab his hand and shimmy to it, singing the words. Not that you can hear it over the loud music, but he's smiling now. At the 'ohs' of the song, I spin away and jump with my hands in the air to the beat then turn back. He's still there with a smile, watching me, eyes going up and down my body. When the song ends, I decide this is a good time to leave if I’m going to. I cannot sleep with him again, I know that much. And I can’t tell him about the pregnancy in a bar. Not to mention I’m also the number one fan. I’m going to have to think about this.

I lean close to him, get up on my toes, and kiss his stubbly cheek. I half-yell in his ear, “That was fun, break a leg tomorrow!” I walk to the black door in the front of the club and turn back as it opens. He's still standing there watching me, eyes intense and slightly disbelieving. I shut the door, put on my coat, and walk back to the hotel.

Chapter 12

I wash my face, put on my comfy cashmere PJs, and sit on my bed, phone in hand. I have to tell Redy.

DirtyDozen: You will not fucking believe my night!

I wait and glance over at the clock, its one in the morning here. Should still be good. He messages back five minutes later.

RedyGo: Yeah you sound pissed. What happened?

DirtyDozen: Not pissed, freaking amazed. Speechless. Destiny is telling me something. Yoga master, tell me what to do.

RedyGo: Speechless… is that possible?

DirtyDozen: If you had the potential to give someone what they wanted, but weren’t sure it was what they wanted, would you tell them? This thing also has the potential to ruin their lives. What say you?

RedyGo: I think it has to be said either way. It’s up to the other person to make the best of it.

DirtyDozen: Thank you Obi-Wan.

RedyGo: Sure. Send me a picture from the concert so I can see how smoking hot these guys are.

DirtyDozen: Shut up! It’s about the music!

RedyGo: Whatever. Later.

I put down my phone, smile, laugh, and turn off the lights to begin my good dreams.

The next morning I get up and walk down to the cafe Redy told me about a few weeks ago and order tea. The place is all windows in the front, with a beautiful view of the Eiffel tower. I sit at a small table by the window, but keep my coat on. It’s chilly today, and with the huge window, there’s a draft. I look out at the tower and snap a picture to post on Instagram for everyone back home.

After finishing my drink, I walk around taking in the sights of the city. I buy a vase from a street vendor and warm glazed almonds. I take a boat ride on the Seine and snap pictures of everything with my phone. As we cross under another bridge, I make a split second decision and call Bobby.

“Ali girl?” Bobby answers.

“Hey Bobby I hope I’m not bothering you.” I panic and hope he can’t talk.

Bobby replies, “Nope, I’ve got time what’s up?”

“I’m in Paris for the show tonight and I think I want to go up.” I lie.
No I don’t.

Bobby gets excited, “No shit! Oh man I have to get pictures of that. I’m so glad I’m here!”

“Yeah just tell them I’m here, that’s it. Don’t go crazy.” I warn him.

Bobby concedes, “All right, all right. I’m not going to ruin the surprise anyway. I’ll see you tonight!”

I hang up and sit tapping my chin with my phone and trying to decide if this is the best idea. I have to tell him, period. I’m here. I’ll write a note and tell him to meet me after the show somewhere. I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to see him in person again.

Decision made, I go get ready to see Rolling Bridges, face to face, for the first time in almost ten years. I shower and shave to the beat of the Rolling Bridges set list. This is a tradition that goes back to their first venue days. My outfit is a black Jack Daniel’s shirt, distressed skinny jeans, and black high heel lace-up biker boots. I put on a slouchy beanie and order room service.

At six o’clock I’m in a cab to the concert hall. While getting my ticket from Will Call I get a text from Bobby. It says to be on the stage left stairs at nine. I write him back and say thank you again. I grab all of the t-shirts that I need, along with some hoodies, but they’re sold out of the cute pink women’s shirts I know most of my Shell girls will wear.

Bummed, but still excited about the show, I find my seat. They put me where I usually sit, on the side in the elevated seats. It’s close, without being on the floor, which is excellent since I’m vertically challenged. There are tons of different accents around me as the arena fills. Mostly girls, but maybe one third guys.

I still get a huge buzz from attending the concerts. It’s all adrenaline and endorphins. The opening act is good, but darker. Hence their name Dark Knight. I wait with bouncing knees and a shaky stomach for the band to come out. Even as nervous as I am about after the show, as soon as the band starts playing I’m on my feet cheering for these guys. Deklan looks particularly good this evening, but then I have insider information on him. His rust, white and green plaid, short sleeve shirt is tight on his upper arms, with a rust colored shirt underneath. Brown cowboy boots, under jeans that cup his butt, and a brown leather cuff on his wrist finish his outfit.

The crowd goes crazy, of course, and I work out my nervous energy by dancing and singing my heart out. By intermission my legs are shaking, and I can’t get a deep breath in. By nine o’clock, during the intermission, I leave my seat and go stand by the stage. A security guard asks me for my ID, then lets me through the gate to stand by the stairs. The next five minutes are interminable for me, but finally the arena gets dark again and the lights start flashing. The guys rush to their instruments and Deklan is back on the stage, unbuttoning his plaid shirt. The guys are playing their instruments, but he’s just standing there with his hip shot out to the side, looking at the audience and taking his shirt off. I swallow and pat my back pocket to make sure I still have the note I wrote.

I look up when I hear Deklan start talking. “Back when we were still a garage band, there was this one girl that came to see us. She taped all of our shows, still does by the way, and you can find her on YouTube. Every time we know she’s in the audience, we want to tell her how much we appreciate her sticking with us. Why don’t you come up and see us, Ali!”

I slowly make my way up the stairs, and smile at the look of shock on the guys’ faces. I don’t look at Deklan, because I won’t make it up there at all if I do. I hold my hands out and spin in a circle, then double over laughing when all of the guys stop playing. They’re so stunned.

Fandy is closest to me, and he takes his bass guitar off saying, “No fucking way!”

I was prepared for this, and pull out my driver’s license. I look nothing like the old me. I lost a whole other me in weight and then some. And my hair isn’t the same color, not to mention the tattoos. He passes my license on to Tommy who has left his drum set to greet me.

Fandy gives me a huge hug and spins me around saying, “Oh, Ali girl! You are one rocking chick!”

I smile as he puts me down saying, “Thanks Fandy.”

He shakes his head and backs up for Tommy, who has passed my license on to Peter.

Tommy tells me I look good ‘kid’, Peter says I look hot, Tag says he’d do me, and Alan says he wants to lick my face. I duck away when he sticks his tongue out and laugh at him shaking my finger.

Deklan is last and I’m afraid to look at him. He’s looking down at my ID with pursed lips before looking back up at me. His eyes are confused and semi-cold. He hands me back the ID and I swap it out of my back pocket for the piece of paper with the address on it. He hooks his arm around me and pulls me close growling in my ear, “I feel like a fucking fool.”

I jerk back and look at his face.
He thinks I set up New Year’s?
“You came to me. Don’t get it twisted.”

He smiles and points me to the crowd with his arm still around my shoulder. The fans scream and the lights are bright.

I smile and wave before turning back to him, “I have to talk to you, I wrote the address to a café on the paper in your hand. It’s really important Deklan, I would never do this otherwise.”

“Christ, you still smell good,” he says taking a deep breath. “I’ll meet you there after the show, tonight, ten thirty. You better be there, I’m not waiting around.”

I spin out from under his arm, and the guys wave from their spots on the stage, already playing the intro to a song. I go back to my seat and take a picture to send to Redy. After sending it, I rock out hard to the last three songs in the set, taking my frustration out in the music. As soon as it’s over, everyone starts evacuating the building. I stay with my feet propped up on the rail in front of me. I feel someone take the seat next to me. Looking over, it’s Bobby and he’s flipping through his huge camera.

He finds what he’s looking for and holds the display up to me, “What is this?”

This
would be Deklan scowling at me and me glaring at him. I sigh. “Bobby if I tell you something, will you promise not to say anything to anyone? I haven’t told a soul.”

He looks concerned, “Yeah Ali, you can tell me anything.”

I look at him, “I haven’t even told Stacie yet.”

He nods. “Okay.”

I look out over the now empty seats and notice the crew isn’t breaking down the stage. The guys play another gig here tomorrow, since this is the last in the European tour and this show sold out in an hour.

“Deklan didn’t recognize who I was on New Year’s. Hell, he didn’t even ask my name, he just started dancing with me then drug me back to his hotel room. The condom broke, I’m pregnant, and now I’m the number one fan that is trying to trap him. I just know that’s what they’re going to say. Last night when I got off the plane, I went to get some food and it turned out to be a bar. Deklan showed up, asked me my name, and danced with me again. I left him there, and when I was up on stage, he said he feels like a fool. He thinks I set him up when he came up to me both times. So how do I get that man to see that I don’t want anything from him, he just needs to know?”

I look over at Bobby and his eyes are bugging out of his head. “Holy fuck, Ali,” he breathes.

I sigh and put my head back on the seat and look at the ceiling. “I know, Bobby.” I check my watch, “I have to leave. I’m meeting him at a café soon.”

I get halfway down the stairs before Bobby says, “Good luck, Ali. Let me know if I can do anything.”

I wave back to him and catch a cab outside.

When I get to the café I see I still have time. I look around and don’t see Deklan. I grab a tea, take out my phone, and see a text from Redy. He’s responding to my photo.

RedyGo: Looks sexy

DirtyDozen: The lead singer is an asshole

RedyGo: Oh how the mighty fall. What happened? Did he sing a bad note?

DirtyDozen: Bad attitude

I hear the bell ring on the door and look up. I drop my phone on the table and it clatters, making him look my way. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with a black leather jacket, blue jeans and biker boots. His hair looks wet, like he just got out of the shower. He locks eyes with me as he walks my way. I’m frozen, and my heart pounds like I’m prey.