Page 52 of Composed at Randy's
“A little bit of manners goes a long way, my friend,” Mel says haughtily.
Travis finally gives up and says, “Please,” in a small voice. Mel gets the rest of the way out of the limo and allows Travis and Shay to climb out too.
“Swanky,” Shay says, tugging at one of his sleeves to even it out.
I don’t think he’s self-conscious about the fancy-ass place we’ve arrived at. We visit a ton of glamorous and grand venues and hotels, so this is old hat for us. He just wants to look his best because he's as much of a slut as Mel is.
“Do you have your stickers, or do you need some?” Mel asks Shay.
Shay gives aplease, who do you think I amlaugh and shakes his head. He pulls out a small plastic bag and waves it at Mel. They fist-bump each other and head toward the stairs leading up to the art gallery.
Travis and I linger behind them, and he asks, “Are you sure you want to do this right now?”
“I can't wait anymore,” I answer, and I hurry to catch up with Mel and Shay.
There's a fancy-looking bouncer at the door, but he doesn't stop us. The guy takes one look at us, and says, “Holy shit, do you know who you are?”
I'm pretty sure I said it before, but it bears repeating. Some people get super weird about rock stars. I don't blame them though. If I’d met one before I got famous, I likely would have been a lot weirder.
So we breeze through the doors after signing the guy’s shirt.
I make to peel away from my entourage, and Travis says, “Do you want to do this alone, or do you want us with you? You knowwe’ve got your back, man. Plus, we need to apologize to Wren too.”
I shake my head. “I get first dibs, and Wren doesn’t need you three looming over us while we talk.”
“Fine, but we’re still going to loom in the corner and watch. This is a family issue, after all.” Mel smiles, but it’s not the usual one that’s overblown for dramatic effect. This is a genuine one from the heart. Mel really likes Wren.
I think my whole band does. They're probably here just as much to keep me from fucking everything up as they are to give me support.
I move around the cavernous area of the main event space, bypassing realistic sculptures and stunning, abstract art displayed on floor-to-ceiling canvases until I see what I'm looking for: a massive crowd surrounding a tiny man. I motion to my band that I’ve found my target, and I’m off.
I rely on my size and height to allow me to plow through the crowd until I reach my destination. Wren looks small and vulnerable, and he’s clinging to the arms of two taller men who act like a shield between him and the world. I’m bigger than them, but both the man in a shiny kimono and the Asian man with serial killer eyes look like they’re ready to lay down their lives for Wren.
This slows me down enough to make my way respectfully through the crowd rather than like a runaway freight train.
When I make it to the front of the crowd, I stop dead in front of Wren.
“Hi.”
Hi? That’s my opening line? I write record-breaking singles, and this is when my ability to express myself fails me?
It seems to do the trick because Wren turns beet red and says, “Oh! Um. Hi there!”
Kimono Guy looks torn between verbally tearing me a new one and jumping up and down like a schoolgirl. I guess he's a fan.
The serial killer’s eyes go dead, and I swear he opens up a portal to hell in those things. He doesn’t like me at all. I guess he’snota fan.
I rally and pull myself and my words together. “Wren, I know you have a thing going on right now, but can we go somewhere to talk? When you’re not busy, I mean.” I didn't come here to crash his event, so I'm willing to wait to talk until he has time for me. I wasn’t willing to wait until his fans went away to see him, though, because I needed to see with my own eyes that Wren is safe.
I had no choice (sorry Harvey!). Otherwise, I would have waited to hunt him down until after his event.
I never would have made it until tomorrow though. I fucked up, I know it, and I can't wait a second longer than necessary before apologizing and trying to fix my mistake.
“I can go now,” Wren says, and there’s an immediate uproar around us of complaint. He squeezes his serial killer’s arm and looks up at him with those crystal-clear eyes of his. “Please, Kai?”
Kai’s hell portal eyes go soft, and he nods and jerks his chin toward the back of the crowd. He makes eye contact with me and narrows his eyes. A chill goes down my spine, but Wren is worth standing up to this guy.
“I won’t let anything happen to him,” I promise.
