Chapter Sixteen
***Don't freak out, but I changed around some dates to better suit my story. I know that the ACMAs are not in January, but I'm sure that you can deal with it. Remember, it's just fiction! The ACMAs are actually in March or April***
"Austin!" The scream sounded throughout the house, causing him to pop his head in her doorway, trying not to laugh. Brooklyn's hair was flying around her head, falling in her eyes. Her clothes were rumpled and there was a stain on her shirt that looked suspiciously like nail polish. "Yeah, the shirt's dead. Do you know where I put my bathrobe? I can't find it anywhere."
Today was the day that the tour was kicking off. The first concert was in Nashville, but they still had a lot to do before they actually left the house and headed to the studio, where the tour buses would be waiting for them. "I think I saw it in your music room last time."
Brooklyn gaped at him for a moment before speaking again. "Why would be robe be there? I could have sworn that it was in the kitchen." Her older brother just shrugged and headed down the stairs to find it. She turned back to the large suitcase sitting on her bed and groaned. "I hate tours. I'm officially saying that I hate tours and I never want to do one again. Simple as that."
She moved to her closet and ripped off the shirt that she was wearing, reaching for a clean one. As soon as she had pulled it over her head, she started to pull out different pairs of jeans and blouses, examining them before throwing them over her shoulder towards the bed. She wasn't looking where they were landing, and to tell the truth, she really didn't care. All she knew was that the two of them had to be at the studio at a certain time to load up the buses and then head out to the arena.
Austin walked back in the room and threw her robe onto the bed. "Found it. Um...Brooke?" he asked, scratching his head. She turned to look at him for a moment before blowing a piece of hair out of her face, turning back to the closet. "Why is there a stack of rolled up socks beside the coffee maker? I can't understand your system for the life of me."
"I put them there because I knew that I wouldn't forget them if they were by the coffee, but I forgot them anyway, and...damn it, can you go and get them, please? I can't believe that I actually forgot them. I put them there not to forget them, and I forget them anyway. Do you see anything wrong with that?" She looked over her shoulder and started to laugh when she noticed that Austin wasn't in the room anymore. "Yeah, thanks for listening!" she shouted down the stairs, running into her bathroom.
She started to take handfuls of stuff off the counters and out of the shower, dropping it into the backpack by her feet. "Brooke, your socks are in the suitcase. Do you want me to actually put this stuff in here?" he asked in the bedroom.
"Have you finished packing yet?" she asked him, opening up the cupboards near the floor and sitting down, taking out items by the armful and putting them in the bag. "This thing is so not going to shut. I can't believe that we didn't do this sooner. Why can't we ever pack ahead of time. JC is becoming a very bad influence on me. Remind me to call him and scream a little."
"No problem, sweetie. Yes, I'm done packing. Do you want me to?"
"Do what? Whatever, just...do whatever you want. I don't know." A large sigh sounded from where she was sitting before she slammed the cupboards shut and started to pull the zipper on the backpack. "I knew it! Austin, try and figure this out first. I have to run next door and drop off a key and everything before we go."
Standing up, she ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs, stopping only long enough to grab the spare key from where it was dangling in the kitchen and shove her feet into a pair of thong sandals. The early morning dew on the grass covered her bare ankles as she dashed through their yard to the neighbor's house. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she lifted her fist and knocked.
The door swung open and Gina smiled at her. "Well, hello, there, Brooklyn. You're looking...are you okay?"
Brooklyn chuckled, shaking her head. "You know me and Austin. We can never start packing until an hour from when we have to be...wherever we're going." She handed over the silver key in her hand. "I don't think you'll need to use it. I don't have any plants or anything to be watered, the garbage was taken out, but just in case, if you could keep an eye on the house until Austin gets back, and then after he leaves again, I'd be so thankful."
Gina took the key and patted Brooklyn's hand. "Don't worry about it, honey. I know the drill. Does Tim have a key for the house?"
Her head nodded quickly. "Yeah, but he usually doesn't go in there if I'm not there. He might, I don't know. You know his car, right?" Gina nodded, smiling at the younger woman. "Okay, thanks. I'm sorry to ask you to do this, but I always forget to plan ahead. I'll see you in February when I come back from Australia."
With a laugh, she started to shut the door. "All right. Stay safe, sweetie." Brooklyn shook her head when she heard that phrase again, flashing back to when she had told her that last time, in the park. When Tim and Brooklyn were trying to work out their problems, and she was looking for answers about the bruises that he had inflicted on her arms. As far as she could remember, she didn't get any answers, just threats.
"I have to get off of this," she muttered to herself, running back into the house, her hair streaming out behind her. She slammed the door shut behind her and threw the sandals in the corner before heading back up the stairs. "Austin, did you finish with my suitcase?" she asked as she walked into her room.
He was looking at the suitcase on the bed, a bewildered expression on his face. "Brooke? I swear that you don't have that much stuff in this room, but damn it, I can't shut this at all. It's just got too much stuff in it." They stood, side to side, for a moment, looking at the suitcase before Brooklyn jumped ontop, pressing down on it. "This is very strange," he muttered, tugging on the zipper. "Can you try jumping on it or something? This isn't working."
Her eyes rolled, and she stood up with his help, jumping up and down on the top of the suitcase. "Austin, I'm going to break this freaking thing. Just...hurry up. We should have left ten minutes ago. Why am I having flashbacks to yesterday with JC?"
"Because you can't keep him off your mind."
The comment was meant to be teasing, but in her mind, it was true. For some reason, she couldn't help thinking about him the whole time that she was trying to get ready. She knew exactly what it was. Now that she was engaged, but couldn't help having one last, little, school girl like crush, and unfortunately, JC was the object of her affection. She wasn't about to tell him, or anyone for that matter, but she didn't think that there was anything wrong with it. It was just like having a stripper at your bachelorette party. Not only was it like that, but she hoped that the stripper that Mia was almost sure to get was dressed either as a cowboy or a police officer.
That thought started her laughter to the point where she slid off the bed and sat on the ground, laughing hard enough to lose her breath. The mental image that she was getting, of Mia standing there with a container of whipped cream and an evil smile was just too much for her. Austin stared at her like she was crazy, not joining in. Tears started to roll down her face, building on the image, her overactive imagination taking over. "I...I can't...can't..." She stopped trying to speak and worked on getting her breathing under control.
"Brooke, what were you trying to say?" Austin asked when her fit was over. He extended his hand and helped her up off the ground.
Shaking her head, she turned back to the suitcase. "I was trying to say that I couldn't breathe, but I don't think I have to say that anymore." Chuckling, she pulled the suitcase down to the floor. "Are we ready?" she asked.
He nodded quickly. "Yup, just let me go and get my stuff out of my room, and then I'll help you load it all up. Do you think you have enough for the tour?"
With a grin, she started to drag the suitcase, too heavy to carry, to the stairs. "Well, I don't have enough time to get rid of my winter stuff and get some summer stuff before going to Australia, so I had to pack it all at once. When I come back, I can get rid of my summer stuff and pack some more winter stuff...I know, it's really confusing. I think I've got it all figured out, though."
"Go brush your hair first, please. I am not going anywhere with you looking like that." She stuck out her tongue and left the suitcase where it was, running back to her room. Standing in front of the mirror, she picked up the comb that she had left there and pulled it through her hair, settling the honey brown strands back where they were supposed to be. Taking a deep breath, she looked at her reflection and smiled.
"This is it," she whispered to herself. With that, she picked up her backpack and put it on her shoulders, heading into the hallway. Austin had already managed to pull the big suitcase down to the foyer and was putting on his shoes. She walked down the stairs and reached for her cowboy boots, pushing them on her feet and reaching for the only jacket that was left on the coat rack. "Here, I'll take your out, and you can take mine."
Austin's suitcase was a lot lighter, considering that he was only staying for a week before leaving to get everything settled for his time in France. She pulled it out to the truck behind her, stopping to push the handle back in and open up the tail gate, lifting it enough to push it up onto the bed. He grunted under the weight of her suitcase and she hurried to help him, pushing from underneath to put it up beside his. Her backpack was added next before she slammed the tail gate shut and walked over to the passenger side of the truck. There was no way that she was going to drive. Her nerves were too frazzled and she was too anxious to actually pay attention to the road.
He started the engine, pulling out of the driveway as Brooklyn took her last look at her neighborhood for the two months or so. Her hands started to shake as they headed towards Belleview's outskirts, and towards the road that would take them to Nashville and the new tour.
With the shaking of her hands followed the shaking of her leg, her ankle up in the air, her toes on the ground. It caused the whole bench seat to shake and Austin looked over at her with a warning glance. She smiled hesitantly, but couldn't stop the motion. She tried putting her hand there, but it just shook more with the added movement. Her eyes watched everything rush by before she dug into her purse, which had been put there earlier that morning, pulling out a tube of lip gloss.
The lid landing on her lap, she spread the sweet smelling gloss on her lips before she recapped it and put it back in her bag. Nervously, she smacked her lips together, her eyes blinking rapidly. "Brooklyn," he warned.
"I'm stopping, I'm stopping," she said under her breath, forcing herself to stop all the movements and just sit there. Austin smiled and turned up the radio, listening to her hum along. It wasn't very often that he got to hear it, but her voice broke three times, letting him know how nervous she really was.
Rolling his eyes, he looked over at her quickly. "Brooke, you're going to be fine. We go through this every time, and you'd think that you would be over by now. It's not like this tour is going to be any different from the old one, other than the fact that you're singing some different songs. You still have to throw in the old favorites, like always."
She let her teeth release her top lip, the same nervous habit that JC had picked up on all that time ago when she told him about her parents, and stared at him for a moment. "What makes you think that I'm nervous? I'm fine, Austin." He nodded, and waited for the dam to break. It had to sooner or later, he remembered that from the last tour.
Turning her head to look out the window, her leg started to bounce up and down again, like she never even knew. He tried to keep the amused smile off of his face as her hands started to shake again. "Okay, fine," she practically shouted, turning to look at him. "I'm incredibly nervous. I always am. I don't know why. Maybe because I'm afraid to fail or something. I shouldn't be, because I'm so used to this, but in a way, I'm not used to it. I hate this. I don't mean that I hate what I'm doing, but I hate what I'm doing right now. That STILL didn't make sense. What I mean to say that I hate stressing about something that I know is going to be just fine, but I do it anyway, and if you decide to give me some sort of psycho babble answer, I swear, I'm going to miss the tour and disappoint so many people because I'll be in jail for murdering you. Happy?"
His eyes moved off of the watch on his wrist, and he turned the corner. "That was longer than the last tour. Congratulations, Brooklyn. You just set a new record."
The teasing smile on his face made her chuckle under her breath, and she watched him for a few minutes. "I don't know how you can't be nervous, really. Usually, you're worse off than I am, but this time, you're as cool as a cucumber. Want to explain this to me?"
To answer her question, he took his hand off of the steering wheel and held it out to her. She watched as it started to tremble and she breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm just as nervous as you are, but if I start to voice that, it'll just make you worse, so I'm not saying a word. My hand should speak volumes alone."
"Yup, it does. Actually, knowing that you're nervous is calming me down. I mean, this is going to be the biggest tour that I've ever done, and there is so much to worry about. Did I tell you about the pyrotechnics for the concerts?" He shook his head. "My God, I've never knew that they cost so much. I think it's around a thousand dollars a concert. Really, it's nothing special, but still. Since when do fireworks cost so much?"
He laughed along with her. "I was talking to Joe last night, and it seems like you're being treated like a princess on this tour. It's nothing like the last one."
She started to laugh harder. "Do you remember my first one, when I opened for Garth Brooks? Man, was that bus tiny. Trying to sleep at night was impossible. The bunks were so skinny that you had to sleep on your side, or else you would fall off."
"Yeah, and now you have a full sized bed in the back, your own bathroom...what's next? A tanning bed?"
"One can only wish, Austin. One can only wish. Actually, I don't know what they're going to do next time. This is getting a little ridiculous. I don't need all this stuff. I would be more than happy to just sleep on a bunk that's wide enough for me to lay on my back, I don't need a private bathroom. I definitely don't need a tanning bed."
The conversation had nowhere to go after that, and both of them quieted, listening to the radio. Soon enough, both of them would be too sick of music to turn on the radio, but now, Brooklyn rolled down her window, allowing the wind to play through her hair, singing along with the song that was playing.
Austin hadn't actually sang with the radio since his parents died, but now, he didn't hesitate to join in with her. She looked over at him, surprised to hear his tenor matching her voice, before a smile spread on her face. Things were beginning to get back to normal, more so than before Tim had come into their lives. He wasn't to blame for anything that happened to them, but this was definitely the happiest that either of them had been since Brooklyn met him.
He pulled into the parking lot, and slowed down, searching for some place to park. It seemed that almost all of the spaces were taken, with the added cars of the tour crew and everyone that was working today. He finally found one towards the end of the lot, far away from where the tour buses were. As soon as they stopped, the crew opened up the tail gate and started to pull the luggage out. "Brooke, you guys are in bus three!" one of them shouted at the brother and sister. She nodded, sliding out of the truck, pulling her purse out with her.
They started towards the buses, pushing each other playfully, their laughter ringing out above the animated talk of everyone around them. Joe ran up them, already looking harried. "I thought you guys would never get here. Brooklyn, where do you want to put your guitar? In your bus or in the band's bus."
"Stick it in mine, they need all the room they can get. Hello to you, too, by the way," she said, grinning. "Isn't this great?"
"Yeah, right. Try having my job. Oh, and Mia wanted to talk to you. She's somewhere around here, screaming at someone, no doubt."
Brooklyn smiled, and looked at her brother. "I better go and find her. Why don't you check out the bus while I'm gone?" He nodded and headed out for the third bus in the line up, as she jogged around a group of people, hearing Mia's angry voice already. She was screaming at someone, but on the phone, rather than in person. "Listen, you little snot nosed punks, when have I ever told you anything about Ms. Turner?" she asked loudly, rubbing her forehead. "Exactly. We don't deal with the Enquirer, considering that you make up your own freaky stories about her, just to cause me more stress when I have to work them out. So, you understood that, right? Uh huh, that's great. Goodbye." She shut off her phone and whirled around when she spotted Brooklyn. "You, young lady, are in a lot of trouble."
"YOUNG lady? I'm older than you by a month. Nice try, though."
Mia's eyes narrowed. "Cute, Brooke, but do you see me laughing? Of course not. What the hell is up with this article in the Enquirer. They're trying to dig up more dirt, and though I didn't tell them anything..." she trailed off, holding out the Enquirer that had the story from Tim in there.
"Every though you didn't tell them anything, they'll make up their own story and make all of us look like a bunch of asses. Look, who really believes ninety nine percent of what's in there? The same people that watch soap operas and believe that all of those characters are not only real, but the women don't wake up with perfect makeup on their faces, they're just naturally beautiful. Mia, don't worry about it. I wouldn't."
Now, her eyes rolled. "What do you think my job is all about? I have to worry. If I didn't, then you would have so many rumors on your ass, you'd look like Jennifer Lopez. No, don't ask me what I'm talking about. You know that I'm an MTV addict. You can stick to your CMT and country radio stations, but every now and then, I need a hit of Eminem."
Brooklyn started to laugh. "See, it's those little things about you that I love," she said with a bright smile. "Like I said, the story is over with. I already talked to Tim about it...he didn't even know that it was a guy from the Enquirer that he was talking to," she said, making up the story as she went along, "and it just showed up on the front page on the next issue. Really, it's not a big deal to me. The fans know not to believe everything that's printed about me, because there have been some very strange things that have been printed."
"Yeah, that story about you being Hugh Heffner's latest Playboy Bunny was a little far fetched, but you're probably right. Wait, since when do you reassure me about my job? I thought that I was the one that was supposed to reassure you."
"Things change. Didn't Dwight Yoakum sing that?"
Mia nodded her head. Even being a self proclaimed MTV addict, she knew everything there was to know about the country aspect of the music industry. "So, anyway," she started as they were walking towards the buses, "I called Lance's publicist, and we've decided to just release that the two of you are going to the award show together, rather than hit everyone with it at once. I'm sure, that if you showed up with him without any notice, and you announced your...you know, then they would automatically assume that he was the one that gave you the you-know-what. The statement basically says that you and Lance met through a mutual friend, you asked him to go to the awards because you know that he's a country fan, and that, again, you're just friends. Since when has your life caused me so much stress."
Her shoulders moved in a shrug as she reached into her purse for her sunglasses, pushing them over her eyes. "I don't know, but I was wondering that myself. This is getting a little out of control. I mean, the tabloids practically piss themselves if they don't find out what I had for breakfast, and they don't get to publish it. The Enquirer is turning into my biggest enemy."
"It is for a lot of artists and actors. I like the fact that you don't let it bother you, like water rolling off of a duck's back. That's good. Don't let that stuff get you down."
"Have I ever? I'm going to go check out the bus before we head to the arena. I'll see you later." Brooklyn turned away from her and climbed the stairs up into her bus. She smiled when she noticed that it was done in the same colors as her last one, which was slightly smaller. Different shades of blue with silver throughout it stared back at her as she headed towards the back.
Poking her head in the bedroom area, she smiled when she saw Austin laying across her bed. "Hey, check it out. They're playing Beaches Of Cheyenne on CMT. You go, girl," he said, making her laugh. Walking in further, she sat down on the bed and leaned back, closing her eyes.
"Wow, this is so comfortable. I could definitely sleep on this on the road. This is better than a hotel bed." She groaned with satisfaction and plumped the pillow behind her head. "Do you think, if I hid out here, they wouldn't notice that I wasn't at the concert tonight? I don't want to move."
He scoffed at that, shutting off the television set. Rolling over to look at her, he grinned. "It is pretty comfortable, I'll admit to that. Come on, Brooke, it's your first concert of the tour. You know that it's going to be nothing but one big party for you. It'll be a blast. I can't wait to see what you guys are going to do."
She started to laugh, throwing her head back. As she did so, she dug blindly in her purse and pulled out a hair tie. "You've seen all the plans, you've heard all the details. Austin, you know all of it."
"It's not the same as seeing it. Yeah, I've heard it but it doesn't even come close to what you guys talk about. I know. I know that you've got different entrances for the concerts, I know that you've got pyrotechnics and video screens and everything, but it's not the same as actually seeing it." They both heard the fight outside, but Austin was the first one to lift the blinds and look out the window beside the bed. "Your darling fiancé is here, if you want to talk to him."
Brooklyn stood up, hitting Austin as she walked out of the bus, hitting the ground. She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail before pulling down the sunglasses on the top of her head. "Hey, Tim. What are you doing here? You always called this place a zoo."
He smiled sweetly, and she could see Mia pretending to gag herself beside him. Brooklyn shot her a bad look and pulled on Tim's arm, bringing him around to the side of the bus. "I just thought that I would drop off a little going away present before you guys took off, that's all."
"That's sweet. I thought that you knew that we don't take off from here until tonight, though. Our first concert is in town, like always. Are you going to come? I'm sure I can find another spot in the VIP area."
Lifting his hand, he brushed away a stray hair that she hadn't caught, tucking it behind her ear. "I can't. I have some family that I have to go visit in California. My flight takes off in about an hour. I just wanted to come by and drop off the gift first. Do you know how unbelievably sexy you look like this?"
In confusion, she looked down at what she was wearing. A pair of jeans and an old faded Hooters tee shirt. "Yeah, I look stunning. A regular Cindy Crawford. Have you made an appointment to have your eyes checked yet, because you have a serious problem. Anyway, lay this baby on me."
Laughing, he reached into the backpack that was on his shoulder, obviously being used as a carry on bag. He pulled out a wrapped box, handing it over. With a gleeful giggle, she slid down to the ground and sat cross legged, pulling away at the paper. "Wow, you bought me a...box of men's underwear. How in the world could I thank you?" She made a comical face, trying to tease him.
"Inside, Brooklyn."
"I knew that," she said under her breath, laughing as she pulled open the flap and dug through the tissue paper. Her hand hit something hard, and she hurried to pull it out. "A cell phone? What do I need with a cell phone? Besides, these things can give you brain cancer. I definitely don't like these things."
He smiled, as if he were expecting the answer and crouched down beside her. "I got you one, because I know that the phone on the bus doesn't always work that well, and I'd rather that you don't use a security phone, because then you can't give me the number. So, it's only natural that you have one of your own. Then, I'll always know where you are."
She swallowed hard and stared at the phone. It was a nice thought, she supposed, but it just wasn't her. She had never wanted a cell phone, and now that she had one, she couldn't think of a way to give it back. That didn't mean that she wasn't going to try one last time, though. "Tim, you have my schedule. You'll always know where I am, and if I'm not going to be there, I always call you. That's why I give you a schedule every time. Really, I don't like cell phones. It's sweet and all, and I can tell that you put a lot of thought into it, but really. I just...I'd rather not. I'm sure that you can return it and get your money back."
His hand pressed the phone back into hers as she tried to hand it back. "Just keep it, okay? I'd rather be able to call you whenever I want, rather than wait for you to be on the bus or for you to borrow a phone from someone else. I'm the only one with the number, so you don't have to worry about anyone else calling you on there." Involuntarily, a picture of JC flashed into both of their minds.
"I guess. I will need the number, though. To give to security." She was lying, but was he really going to know that? She did need to give the number to security, because it would become her phone on the tour, but she also wanted to give the number to JC and Lance, just in case they needed to get ahold of her. Austin, too, she reminded herself. She couldn't leave anyone out. In fact, she needed to give quite a few people the number.
He sighed and pulled a card out of his back pocket. "This is the number, and underneath is the number that you press in to get your voicemail. All right? Listen, I have to run, because I don't think that the plane with wait for me. I'll call you later." He kissed her quickly and was gone as soon as he was there. She sighed and walked over to Joe, who was still directing people and luggage to the correct buses. "Joe, where's the head of security? I need to give him my cell phone number."
Without saying a word, he took the card from her hand and wrote down the number on the top of the piece of paper he was looking at. "Right over there. Be sure to give it to Mia, too. She'll need it. When did you get a phone, anyway?"
"About five minutes ago." She held it like it was an explosive and she didn't want it to go off as she ran over to the head of security and gave him the number to pass around to the rest of security. He tried calling the phone and when it rang in her hand, he let her go back to her bus. "Great. What the hell am I supposed to do with this, anyway?" She pushed the card into her back pocket and climbed back on the bus. "Austin, are you still on here?"
"Yeah, you should check out the bathroom."
"Later. We have to head over to the arena. Come on."
The arena was in as much chaos as the parking lot, if that was even possible. The moment that Austin had pulled around the corner of the arena, a member of security shoved in beside Brooklyn, the fans that were lined up around the outside started to cheer loudly, waving at the truck. "Does it really matter when they get in? I mean, they all have assigned seats," Austin muttered as he tried to maneuver around the people that were milling around.
"You know how they're like. Besides, the first concert is always like this. I hate kicking off a tour. I wish I could just pick it up in the middle and leave it at that. Man, watch out. That chick is trying to climb ontop of the truck. Next time I say that country fans are a hell of a lot more calmer than other fans, be sure to shoot me in the foot."
Both men laughed as Austin slowed down, yet again. Security was now milling around, trying to get everyone out of the way so that they could loop around the building and enter at the back. "When did they start to bring signs?" Austin asked.
"Hmm? Oh, last tour, third leg. I don't know who started it. Check out that one over there. 'Austin, will you marry me?' You're stealing all of my fans. What's up with that?"
He just chuckled under his breath as he followed the police car ahead of them, finally helping them around. Brooklyn breathed a sigh of relief as they got to the back and the security guard opened up his door, slipping out. She followed, bringing her purse with her, breathing in the air deeply. "Yum, smog," she said with a face, skipping across the pavement to the open door. Once inside, the sunglasses came off her eyes, and she followed someone to her dressing room, stepping inside.
Austin looked over her shoulder as she examined her outfit for that night. "Leather pants? Too bad JC isn't here to see this one. He'd probably have a heart attack in his seat. Damn, girl, am I glad that I'm your brother. You need someone to protect you when the guys see these on you."
Her eyes rolled as she picked up the shirt. Three quarter length sleeves, but it showed her stomach and tied twice in the back, leaving it almost completely bare. Both of their eyes bugged out as she held it against her. "That doesn't cover very much. I suppose that's good considering I'll be doing a lot of running around, and the lights get pretty hot, but...holy cow. If this is what country stars wear now, I'd hate to see what female pop stars wear now." Her head shook as she put it back down. "At least I get to wear my cowboy boots."
She moved to sit down on the couch, closing her eyes. "So, Brooke, and this is about to kill me, have you worked on your wedding lately?"
Her head moved to look at him, eyes opening slightly. "Yeah, a little. Not much, though. I have so much to do, I can't believe it. I would ask you to help, but I know how much you despise this, and besides, what's the point when you're out in France, learning how to cook all over again, because Lord knows that you can't cook now." He pushed her playfully. "I'm just kidding. I really do have a lot to do, though." She sighed deeply. "I don't want to talk about it, though. It's not something that I really need to think about."
"If you say so. I'm going to go look around, check out the stage and everything. Are you going to stay back here?" Her shoulders moved in a shrug. "Okay, then. Later. Don't get into trouble."
"Yes, big brother." Her eyes rolled as she reached into her purse and brought out her cell phone, looking at it. "Piece of technological crap." From memory, she dialed ten numbers, and hoped to hell that the other person would pick up.
"Does someone want to get that for me?" JC shouted from the back of his bus. The tour had just kicked off, but the first concert wasn't in their hometown, as it normally was. Instead, they were traveling to the first venue in...where? He couldn't exactly remember where.
Someone shouted out to him and told them that they would. What was the point of answering? The voices were so muffled back there, and it was either Joey or Lance, both of whom he was sharing the bus with. The one with Justin and Chris were far ahead of theirs, separated by another bus. His life, already, was being ruled with safety protocol and rigid rules. He could only imagine what it was like for Brooklyn right now, who was backstage at the arena, waiting for the first concert to start, according to his watch. Another four hours before it kicked off with a big bang, and all he could do was wish that he was there.
For some reason, he couldn't get his mind off of her. He had admitted a long time ago that yes, she was very attractive. And yes, he could have been falling for her. That was no big deal. He had feelings for a lot of attractive, but unavailable women in his life, and one more wouldn't matter. The thing was, they were best friends. How could he be falling for his best friend? An even more important question was, how did they become best friends? They hadn't known each other that long. There was just something about the two of them that just clicked. Maybe it was because they were both performers, but he didn't 'click' with a lot of performers the way that he had with Brooklyn. With his 'New York'.
He had spent enough time in the back, especially since he knew that he had a phone call. With a sigh, he walked out, listening as Joey was talking animatedly with someone on his phone. "Really? Leather pants you say. Wow, what I wouldn't give to be there." He paused for something, obviously someone laughing. "Yeah, I bet. Why does he keep you all to himself, then, huh?"
JC looked at Lance, who was watching television. "Who is it?" he asked, reaching into the small fridge for a bottle of water. Lance just shrugged, and JC moved to sit across from Joey, listening to his conversation again.
"Yeah, but Lance doesn't count. Girl, I have got to meet you. Especially if you're wearing those leather pants. I never knew that country singers wore leather pants."
It finally clued in, and he reached forward, snatching the phone out of Joey's hand. He was almost afraid of what Brooklyn had already heard from him, and rolled his eyes at his friend as he slumped down on the seat. "Hey, New York. Sorry about that, I was in the back."
"Don't worry about it. He's pretty cool." He was finally getting to hear her sweet, clear voice, and he loved it. He could listen to it forever. Closing his eyes, he tried to remind himself that they were only friends, but it just wouldn't go through.
He grinned, and opened the bottle of water in his hands. "So, what's up? Your concert starts in about four hours, huh?"
The smile in his voice was heard from him and it brought a smile to his face, as well. Joey rolled his eyes when he saw it, recognizing it instantly as he moved to watch whatever Lance was watching. The last thing he wanted to do was listen in on his conversation, while he pretended that he had no interest in Brooklyn, whatsoever. "Yeah, about then. I'm pretty cool with it now, but you should have seen me this morning. I was so out of it, it wasn't even funny. But, everything's cool, you can get the concerned look off your face-"
"I don't have a concerned look on my face."
"Yes, he does!" both of them shouted.
She laughed again. "Aw, isn't that sweet. Anyway, the real reason that I called was to give you the new phone number." Before he could ask what she was talking about, she started to explain. "I have a cell phone now, against my will, and it's not a security phone, so I can pass out the number. I just figured that if you needed to get ahold of me at any time, then it would be your best bet, because it's going to be with me twenty four seven, basically."
"Whoa, whoa. Calm down, honey. What do you mean, you have a cell phone now? You've always despised the things, and even when you used mine, you bitched about getting a brain tumor. So now, you all of a sudden went out and bought one? Is there something wrong with this picture, or is it just me."
Her sigh went through the line, and he nodded to himself, confirming his thoughts. He already knew what had happened, and to tell the truth, he didn't want to think about it. Any mention of Tim pissed him off incredibly, which she didn't know. Instead, he clenched his teeth, lied and swore that he didn't have any bad feelings towards the bastard, even if he had hit him, and that he loved to hear whatever she had to say. The last part was true, but the rest? It was all fabricated, to keep her in the dark. Make sure that she didn't get angry at him, because that was the last thing that he wanted. "Well, Tim came by before we came to the venue because he had a present for me. Yeah, you can guess what it was. He said so that it was for him to call me whenever he wants, but I don't think that he wanted to give me the number at first. I had to tell him that I needed it for security, which is true enough, but...he still wasn't too happy about it."
He sat up and opened his eyes, looking around. His friends had no clue what the story was between Brooklyn and Tim (and if he wanted to be fair, he should add himself and make it a triangle, but he didn't want to admit to it). "You know the meaning behind that, right, New York? Please tell me that I don't have to tell you and make you mad at me. You have to know the meaning behind that pseudo gift."
"Are we pulling out the intelligent sounding words, JC? That's cute."
"There we go with that cute bit again. Why don't you just admit how you feel about me? It'll make things so much easier."
"And here we go with the joke contest again. You may have won the first round, but there are many more to go before you hit a knock out on me, and I don't go down without a GOOD fight. Now, honestly, I don't know what you're talking about, but I won't get mad when you tell me."
He sighed this time, and closed his eyes again. "Yes, you're going to get mad, and that's the last thing that I need. It's the last thing that I want. You haven't gotten mad at me yet for anything, and I'm rather enjoying this perfect track record that I have going."
"Joshua Scott Chasez, you better tell me now, or else I'll hang up and won't give you my phone number. What would you do without me? Honestly, answer me that one. What would you do without the wonderful and beautiful Brooklyn Turner hanging on your every word."
"Honey, you're ego is going to hit the stage before you step foot on it." They both laughed again. "Fine, I'll tell you, but Austin can tell you the exact same thing. Think about what he gave you. A cell phone, right? He knows that you don't like them, right? I mean, what kind of guy gives his girl frie...fiancée, sorry, a gift that he knows she's going to hate. He's insanely jealous of you, you know that, and really? He had a good reason to be. I mean, who wouldn't be jealous of every guy that you talk to. Anyway, I'm getting so far off track that it's not even funny. The reason behind the cell phone, the MEANING behind the cell phone, is that he wants some way to get ahold of you, no matter where you are. He wants some sort of tie to you. It's almost like he's staking a claim on a piece of property. He's telling you that he can call you whenever he wants, and because he gave you the phone, he's the only one that can. The way he thinks, you should RUN for the damned phone whenever he calls you.
"I know, it sounds horrible, but I don't know of another way to put it. That's just what it means, and you know what it means, somehow. You just don't want to admit it to yourself. God, you don't know how much of a prick I feel like right now because I told you that."
It was her turn to sigh again, and she did so willingly. "I knew it, I just needed someone to say it. You aren't a prick, don't worry. I appreciate the fact that you had the guts to tell me. You always tell me the truth, whether I want to hear it or not."
"Thank you, and did I ever tell you that I love the way you say my name?"
They both broke into laughter before he wrote down her new phone number, and promised that he would call her soon. After he hung up, he threw the phone onto the table and groaned, stretching out where he was sitting. "So, that was Brooke, huh?" Lance asked as he walked by.
JC nodded, not opening his eyes. "Yeah, it was. I'm sorry, did you want to talk to her? I have her new number if you want to call her back."
He shook his head. "No, that's okay, but be sure to remind me to write it down. I'll need to call her and ask her about the awards show and everything. So, was that all she wanted?" There was a slyness in his voice, one that JC wanted to ignore for the life of him. He knew what it meant, but like everything else that was happening, he just didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to admit anything about Brooklyn, and it was beginning to kill him.
"Yeah. You know, you two sound pretty comfortable with each other. I never really noticed it before," Joey broke in as he sat down. With a grin, he leaned back and eyed his friend.
"So? We're friends."
Lance and Joey exchanged a glance. "You're getting pretty...defensive about it," Lance mentioned. "No, I'm not trying to say anything, other than the fact that you're getting defensive. Nothing more." He raised his hands in a pleading gesture. "I wonder what it is about Brooklyn. I can't wait for the awards show." Grinning, he looked over at his friend. JC's eyes took on a strange light, and Lance immediately caught it to be jealousy. Trying not to laugh, he decided to add on his statement. "You know, I could call her and tell her that I'm sending you in my place."
This was going to be the true test, and Joey caught onto it immediately. He nodded his head, hiding the smile that wanted so desperately to break out on his face. "You would?" he asked.
"Of course. I mean, if they're so close, maybe they'd like to go instead."
JC looked between the two of them. "Really? Would you mind?" he asked, his tone almost like an over anxious child on Christmas.
"Nah."
"Bastard."
"Thank you."
Brooklyn waved one final time before she climbed the rest of the steps of the bus, dropping the smile and sighing. "Damn, I didn't think it would take that long to get out of there. Talk about over excitable," she said with a laugh, moving to the small fridge. She took a bottle of water out and opened it, taking a deep sip. "To think that I'm doing it all over tomorrow night."
Austin laughed from where he was stretched out in a small room. Like Brooklyn's area, it contained a television and a CD player, but this area had been filled with couches and chairs for them to relax on. "That was awesome. I couldn't believe the pyros. Although, seeing your face that big is a little scary." She threw the cap at him as she walked by, hitting him in the forehead. "Thanks, just what I wanted."
"Loser. I'm going to bed. See you in the morning," she said, closing the door to her room and locking it. It was a procedure that she was so used to, she didn't even have to think about doing. Instead, she stripped off the clothes she had been wearing and changed into a pair of track pants and a tee shirt, slipping underneath the heavy covers.
One hand went out and took her eyeglasses in hand, slipping them over her face before it grasped the novel sitting on the small table. With another sigh, she opened the cover and started to read, her eyes skimming over the surface of the page, her mind not registering the words. Shaking her head, she started to read the first page again, but it was a challenge. She had to force herself to read each word, almost like it was the first time. The book went flying, and she stared up at the ceiling, too hyped to sleep, too tired to stay awake.
This was the time that she did her best thinking, but it was annoying. The world was slightly blurred with her glasses on, and she didn't hurry to take them off. Instead, she enjoyed the feeling. It was almost like she wasn't sitting on a tour bus, driving to the next venue so that she could sing and jump around on the stage.
A sharp ring came from her bag, and she reached down to take the cell phone out of it. It had been nothing but a hindrance so far, one that she would be more than happy to be rid of. She pressed the talk button and held it up to her ear. "Hello?"
"Hey, sweetie. Just thought that I would call and see how the first concert went." She smiled, thinking of how sweet the gesture was, but didn't care for the time that the call had came.
"It was pretty good, I guess. Austin really seemed to like it, and he's the most critical fan of all, despite me. I don't know. Every time that I close my eyes, I see bright flashes from the pyrotechnics. How's California?" she asked, rolling over and taking off the reading glasses. They landed on the table with a clatter.
She heard the little impatient sigh that Tim usually gave when they were on the phone together. He never cared to talk very long, which surprised her when she thought of his gift. "It's not bad. I'd rather be back in Tennessee, though. Still, it's nice seeing my sister."
Laughing, she rolled over again, so that she could look towards the small window. She pulled open the blinds with one hand and stared at the sky rushing by. "Oh, that reminds me. I really should call Alyssa and see if she's available for the wedding. I want her to be one of my bridesmaids. She's such a sweetheart."
"You're planning on having a big wedding? I thought that we were just going to have something small."
"God, no. I want to have a huge wedding. Besides, it's not like you have a say in it, anyway," he said with a laugh. "It's supposed to be the bride's family that does the wedding, all your family does is the rehearsal dinner, which I'm planning on doing anyway. No, it's going to be huge, but there's going to be no publicity."
She could tell that he was frowning. "You don't think that the press would be that interested in the fact that we're getting married, do they? I mean, it's not like it's a big thing, is it?"
Rolling her eyes, she stared out the window. She couldn't believe him. He knew that it would be a big deal. The press flipped if she was seen somewhere with someone that wasn't her brother. Joe, her own manager, had been mentioned as her lover, another illegitimate brother, and as her father. "Believe me, Tim, they'll be more than interested. Mia's trying to work a deal with Entertainment Tonight. They already know of a big announcement, and I think that she wants to know if they would be interested in going dress shopping with me. This sort of stuff happens all the time. Granted, it won't be as big as some of the bigger names, but they'll take a little interest in it. At least a little. I really don't want to have photographers around when we say our vows, or during the reception."
"We can talk about that later."
"Believe me, I'm set on that. I don't want anything to ruin this, Tim. It's supposed to be a beautiful, wonderful...the most happiest day in my life. I don't want someone in my face with a camera when I say 'I do' and I'm sure that you don't either."
He laughed dryly. "All right. Listen, I'll call you tomorrow or something. I'm a little tired. I had a big day." She didn't like the way that that sounded. There was a strange twist to his voice, something that she picked up on but couldn't figure out. "Good night, Brooklyn."
"Good night, Tim." She hung up and dropped her phone, not bothering to look and see if she had any messages. She was too tired to even think about it. Instead, she turned off the lamp beside her and pulled the covers up to her shoulders, sighing deeply.
For some reason, she felt empty. It was something that she couldn't describe, but there was an empty feeling inside of her. Wasn't she supposed to be keyed up over the wedding, happy to be planning? Maybe it was some sort of burn out over it, she thought, closing her eyes. Still, there was something missing, and she couldn't figure out what it was.
Tim hung up his phone, and looked around the room. Everything was falling into place, as far as he could tell. Brooklyn was on tour, which meant that she was as far away from JC as possible. He had already looked over both of their schedules, JC's printed off of the Internet, and there were no coinciding dates. None that were even close to one another. Granted, JC's tour, the first leg, was smaller than Brooklyn's, but she would be too busy to even think of having someone extra on her tour. What with the planning of the wedding and everything.
He had made sure that she was going to be doing it all. She seemed more than happy to do that, especially when he pretended that he didn't know what the hell he was doing. Keep her busy, he figured, and her mind couldn't wander somewhere that it should be.
Picking up his phone again, he dialed a toll free number and waited to hear the automated voice before pressing in the four digit code to Brooklyn's voice mail. She had already made a message, small and impersonal, like she was afraid of the thing. Smiling, he pressed another button to hear her messages, listening closely.
"Brooke, we need to talk about the new security that we're going to have on the tour. Don't worry if you get this too late. I'll grab you sometime tomorrow." That voice was easy to figure out. It was the head of the security, the same man that had been with her ever since the beginning of her career. Tim knew him pretty well.
"Brooke, listen, I think I have something set up with Entertainment Tonight for you. Nothing big, but it'll work. They want to throw in a one on one interview with you after the awards show, to see what you have to think about the rat bastard marrying you. Oh, and I think that the National Enquirer is picking up on something off the 'net. Just our luck, too. I'll talk to you about this in the morning. Layta, girlfriend." He grimaced when he heard Mia's voice. If there was one person that he couldn't stand on her tour, it was Mia. Of course, the feelings were mutual. She had always disliked him, thought that he wasn't good enough for Brooklyn. Then again, she had been born rich, and he figured that she didn't care for anyone at all, except for a few people, his fiancée included.
"Brooklyn! What's up, girl? It's me, Lance, Listen, I just wanted to remind you that I'm going to be flying in pretty soon for the show. Jace keeps reminding me every day that if anything happens, I'm getting my ass kicked. Call me when you have a chance. You have the number." He frowned. He didn't remember Brooklyn ever hanging out with anyone named Lance. He sat back for a moment and thought about how familiar the name was.
Suddenly, it hit him. The day that they had spent shopping in Nashville, when she had been talking about who she wanted to take to the awards show.
"Hmm? Oh, finding a date for the ACMAs. Austin's busy, and I'm trying to decide if I should take JC with me." She looked over and sighed. "Tim, don't start this. You know that I won't take you, anyway. You never want to go to the awards shows, so what's the big deal? Like you said before, it's just a bunch of singers talking about trivial things like notes and riffs, right?" She didn't want to tell him different, that all the awards shows that she had been to were different. The country genre were a close knit group. There usually wasn't just passing pleasantries and "your album sounds great." There was usual "How's the family," and other talk that made them sound like the happy pseudo-family that they were.
He rolled his eyes and passed her a can of corn to look at. "I'd rather that you took me rather than JC. I know, I understand that he's your friend and all, but it weirds me out a little."
"Please, Tim. He's exactly what you said, a friend. If it bothers you that much, I'll ask...Lance or someone."
His eyes narrowed as she picked up a can of green beans and looked at the label. She didn't care for them, but Austin did, which was the only reason that she would buy them. "Just who the hell is Lance, now?" he asked in a loud tone. A woman walking by looked at him strangely and pulled her child along with her.
"A friend of mine that I met through JC. He's in the group with him. All I truly know about him is that he sings bass, he grew up on country music, and he's from Mississippi. Other than that, I'm lost. All right?" Her voice was becoming testy as she threw the few cans she was holding in the cart and pushed it further down the aisle.
"No, wait a second, Brooklyn. Why would you ask him?"
She turned to look at him with a patient smile, but anyone could tell that it was forced. "I would ask him because, like I said, he's a country fan, and I'm sure that he would get a kick out of the after party. That's all. JC isn't a big country fan, but he's my first choice at the moment. He IS my first choice, because I know him the best, and Austin approves."
He wasn't much of a threat, he figured, and pressed a button to listen to the last message. "Hi, New York." Immediately, he could feel his blood begin to boil. What the hell did he want? Obviously, Brooklyn had gone behind his back and given JC the number to her phone, otherwise he wouldn't be calling her on it. This was just perfect, he thought, as he sat back with a groan. "I just called to make sure that you weren't angry at me for before. I know, I know, you said that you weren't, but I had to make sure anyway. That and the fact that, even though I know you won't get this before the concert, I just wanted to wish you luck. Not that you need it though, right, New York? Just...remember what I said earlier today. I don't know why, but I think it might be important to remember. Love you."
Tim slammed the phone back down and closed his eyes. This was going to be more difficult than he thought, but he was always up for a challenge, and Brooklyn was one of the biggest challenges ever.
This chapter, unfortunately, got away from me. I hate being wordy sometimes. The next part of the chapter is also posted, so you don't have to worry about being left out of some of the action. Enjoy!
Chapter Sixteen, Part Two
pepsicolagurl@shaw.ca