Travis Starnes
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Center Stage - Chapter 11
🕑 Added 2024-05-29 14:03:01 +0000 UTCSaturday, I was in New York. The first two shows went reasonably well, with a good crowd and no major disasters aside from Vince and Julie still wowing the audience. Word must have been getting around because I noticed a lot of people out of their seats both nights while Vince and Julie were on stage. It seemed like fans had decided that was a good time to make a run for drinks, merch, or the bathroom.
There wasn’t anything I could do about that, and my part of the show had the people on their feet, dancing along, so there wasn’t really anything I wanted to do about it either. I figured it was better to just stay out of the way and focus on my own job.
Besides, I had something else taking up space. It was time for the party, and I really didn’t want to go. Most everyone on the tour, the performers at least, were going, and they seemed incredibly excited about it. Mostly the free booze and chances to see celebrities. I think it was telling, though, that Dexter was absolutely not planning on going, telling me he’d rather be caught dead than go when I asked him about it.
Dexter had been recovering from substance abuse himself after a very rough twenties and thirties, and I got the impression he thought there would be too much temptation there. Which made me want to go even less.
Worse, Warren couldn’t go. He called me just before the show started to tell me his flight was canceled, and he wouldn’t be able to make it out the following day. He said if I really didn’t want to go, I could skip it, but enough people had made a big deal out of it that I felt like I had to go. Besides, I wasn’t a kid anymore. I didn’t need to hide under the covers from monsters. I had responsibilities to the band, the multiple people working with me, and I had to start making moves to be able to afford these new PR and security people everyone wanted me to hire.
So if I had to go out and hustle, even in an environment I didn’t want to be in, that’s what I would do.
Still, I’m a poor kid who grew up in crappy bars and then a tiny trailer in a small town in Appalachia. Sure, I’d stayed at some nice hotels and played at some classic venues, but a hotel room is a hotel room and a stage is a stage.
Stepping into this party was like stepping into another world.
It was an incredibly high-scale event, the kind of thing you only see in movies or on TV. There were several open bars scattered throughout the massive room, each one staffed by a team of bartenders. At the far end of the room, a DJ was spinning tracks, the bass thumping so hard I could feel it in my chest.
And the people, my god, the people. Everywhere I looked, there were celebrities. Actors I’d seen on the big screen, musicians whose albums I’d owned, models I’d seen on the covers of magazines. It was surreal, being in the same room as all these people.
To say I felt out of place would be an understatement.
“Charlie! Hey, Charlie!” I heard someone calling over the music.
I turned to see Eli Sampson from Nightshade waving at me from across the room. I made my way over to him, grateful to see a familiar face. We weren’t exactly friends, but he knew who I was and we’d played together. Which was enough.
“Man, it’s so good to see you,” Eli said.
“You too. This place is wild.”
“I know. I hate these things, but my agent says I gotta show up to them.”
“Yeah, mine too,” I said, which wasn’t exactly true, but was close enough.
“I’ve been following your success, dude. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, man,” I said. “So how’s Bradley? I saw he was touring with y’all again.”
“He’s doing really good. He gets his one year chip next month and we’re all so proud of him.”
“That’s amazing. I know he doesn’t know me, but tell him congratulations for me. I know how big of a thing that is.”
“Yeah, I heard,” he said, kind of looking down and away for a second.
“It’s okay,” I said.
That was the weird thing with having parents who died, especially how mine did. People didn’t know how to react, so they usually just shut down for a second. I knew he was trying to find a tactful way to say sorry, and it was best just to let him off the hook.
We talked for about ten more minutes, just about the industry, the new album they were working on, and the tour. I’d really liked Eli when I’d met him in Nashville, but we hadn’t really had a chance to talk much, so this was, by far, the longest conversation I’d ever had with him. We only stopped talking when his agent came over to pull him over to a conversation with someone else. We promised to keep in touch, and I hope we did. He was a good guy.
I just started to turn around and see what else was going on, and practically smashed face first into Julie, who came bouncing up to me with a big smile. She’d been like this since we started the tour. One moment trying to be all buddy-buddy with me and the next making small digs to cut me down and, I guess, make herself feel bigger.
“Charlie! You made it!”
“Uhh … yeah,” was all I could manage.
“Can you believe this. I love these parties. I just had a long talk with Douglas and … my gosh, I don’t have to tell you what a character he is.”
She kind of did because I had no idea who she meant by Douglas.
“Cool,” I said instead, wanting more than anything to get out of this conversation.
“So, tonight while you were on stage, I had the most fabulous idea. You, me, and Vince should collaborate on a song to perform at our last tour stop. It would be amazing!”
“Yeah, maybe. I’m in the middle of setting up a tour for after though, so I’m not sure if I’ll have the time. But we can talk about it,” I said.
She seemed to take that, although there was no way she didn’t hear what I really meant. I’d rather chew glass than collaborate with either of them on a song, but I guess there were some things you just didn’t say.
“Wonderful. I’ll talk to Vince and see if we could make something work,” she said, as if I hadn’t said anything.
I was about to try and set her straight when her head shot to the side and she said, “Gotta run. I think I see Tina and I just have to say hi.”
She was gone before I could respond, disappearing into the crowd. I had no idea who Tina was either. I made a slow circle of the room, seeing a few people from the show, but they were all in conversations with other people. I was a little thirsty so I went to the bar and got a coke. I turned around to start circling again, and came face to face with Kent Graham. I hadn’t seen him since MAC cut my contract, and my surprise must have been evident, as I immediately froze, caught in one of those fight or flight moments.
“Charlie,” he said, very coolly.
“Kent … uhh, hi. Strange seeing you here.”
“It is an industry party,” he said. “I see you landed on both feet after … everything.”
“I got lucky.”
“Very,” He said, giving me this once up and down look I couldn’t decipher. “Well, have fun.”
With that he pushed past me and went to the bartender, completely ignoring me. Part of me wanted to shove his face into the bar. I don’t know if he was mad still about screwing up how they released my contract or mad that I was doing well in spite of their trying to screw me over, but either one was bullshit. They’d been the ones to do me dirty, and here he was acting like I was the bad guy.
Still, I couldn’t exactly go around attacking people because they annoyed me, so I took my coke and started looking around for anyone to talk to. I was supposed to be here making connections and so far, I’d really only talked to people I knew. Sure, it was nice seeing Eli, but it felt like a waste. Maybe I really did need Warren, if only to make the introductions, if nothing else.
I made two laps of the room, feeling awkward, with pretty much no one paying attention to me, and was starting to look for a place I might be able to sit down when a British voice behind me said, “Charlie Nelson.”
I turned to find Hal Steiner pushing his way through a few people. He reached out, and I shook his hand. He was dressed regally as ever in, what I guessed, was a tailored suit. I didn’t know much about men’s fashion, but I imagined it was pretty expensive.
“Hal. Good to see you,” I said.
It was still a little weird, coming from a world where adults were Mr. so and so and Mrs. whatever to call someone like Hal, who was over fifty, by his first name, but Warren and I had talked about it, and if I was going to get respect, I had to act like their equal and not some kid.
“You’ve done very well for yourself after the show.”
“Thanks. I’ve had some good luck.”
“Nonsense. It’s more than that. I don’t know who you have doing your PR, but you’ve made some exceptionally shrewd moves of late. I’m particularly impressed with your decision to use what happened at your Los Angeles show and turn it into positive press. And then extend it by getting involved with Emerson King’s charities. He has a very solid profile, and getting your name with his is an excellent way to build your own profile. Really, an excellent move all around.”
“Actually, I don’t have a publicist yet, we just started looking for one last week. The Saunders family thing wasn’t about getting me more exposure … well, not entirely. I did that because they’re good people who needed help. And Emerson, that just kind of happened. He’s a great guy, though, and it’s been a pleasure working with him.”
“Really?” Hal said, his eyebrows going up in surprise. “Well then, you have much better judgment than people twice your age in this industry. That’s a rare quality, Charlie. Don’t lose it.”
“Thanks,” I said, not sure how to respond to that.
“You know, oddly, your name also came up just yesterday. I was talking to Dakota, and she mentioned how you went to bat for her. She’s a good girl going through a tough time, and it really meant a lot to her, your sticking up for her. I know she can be a bit … difficult at times, but trust me, she noticed and appreciated it. As do I.”
“I just tried to do the right thing. I know what she’s going through, kind of.”
I knew he was aware of what happened with my parents because of what happened on the show.
“That may be, but it’s also a rarity in Hollywood. Or New York.”
“If you talk to her, tell her I send my best and hope, I don’t know, she’s doing okay.”
“I will. I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Charlie. I look forward to seeing what you do next,” Hal said, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder before heading off to talk to whoever he saw next.
I don’t know if I counted talking to Hal as networking or not since I already knew him, but he owned a label and was a producer, so I decided that was enough. I could consider my job done if I didn’t manage to talk to anyone else. Part of me wanted to head back to the hotel now, as it was getting to be midnight and I did have a show the next evening, but there were still a lot of people here and, as much as I thought Hal counted, I probably should talk to a few more people.
I managed to work my way into a few conversations and meet a few people, but I felt awkward every time and only did it twice before I decided I wasn’t going to keep doing that. I’d seen others introducing themselves that way, but I felt so strange and out of place each time.
The party started winding down about one, with most of the older business people seeming to head out, until nearly everyone around me was in their twenties. The lights seemed to get dimmer and the music louder, and everyone kicked into party mode.
I saw a lot more drinks making their way around and couldn’t help smelling the pungent odor of weed as someone in the crowd lit up. While that was a little ballsy for rural North Carolina, I’d been in California off and on for the last month and it was legal there. Vegas too. I didn’t actually know if it was legal here, but I’d seen it enough it didn’t actively shock me, although I could have done without the smell.
The people were also looking a bit... overdone. I saw several people ducking into the bathrooms and coming back with a very familiar glassy-eyed look I’d seen on my dad before.
I was just considering making my own exit when a woman stumbled into me, nearly spilling her drink down my front.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she slurred, steadying herself on my arm. “Wait, I know you from something, don’t I!”
Her words slurred together enough that I had to take a second to make them out... and only a few more seconds to realize who she was. Kirsten Lindstrom had been a child star about ten years ago, and mom had put on some of her DVDs when I’d been trapped in the Winnebago while she went out to find Dad and haul him home from the bars.
I couldn’t remember if they were any good. She looked enough like the kid version of herself that I knew who she was, but she’d grown up. Or maybe it was just the outfit she was wearing. She was also bombed out of her mind.
“I don’t know. My name’s Charlie.”
“Hi Charlie, I’m Kirsten,” she said, getting her own name wrong as she leaned into me. “You know, you’re kinda cute.”
“Thanks,” I said, trying to back away from her and untangle myself from her grip.
“Where ya goin? Maybe we should ditch this party, it’s getting lame. I know a place.”
“Oh, um, that’s really nice of you to offer, but I’m gonna have to pass,” I said.
“What?” Kirsten snapped, as she finally stopped swaying and seemed to look at me for the first time. “You’re passing? On me?”
“I don’t mean any offense, really. You seem like a nice girl, but I have a girlfriend. I appreciate the offer, though,” I lied.
I was trying to find a way to say no gently, to keep this from being a whole thing. I mean, it was flattering, in a way, especially coming from someone as famous as she was, but she was three sheets to the wind. There was no way I was getting involved with that.
Unfortunately, my efforts were not working, as her face twisted into a scowl.
“Girlfriend? … Girlfriend? I’m Kirsten fucking Lindstrom. Do you know how many guys would kill to be with me?”
I held up my hands, trying to calm her down. “I’m sure you’re great, and I’m not trying to insult you. I’m flattered. Really. I just can’t.”
I don’t know what else I could say, although there was a chance nothing short of “okay” would have satisfied her. At the very least, she wasn’t taking no for an answer. It didn’t help that she was yelling by this point, and a lot of people had turned to look at us, making this rejection very much public. Her face was beet red, although I couldn’t tell if it was from the booze or the embarrassment.
“Fuck you,” she spat. “You think you’re better than me? You’re nothing. A fucking nobody who’s going to be telling his friends one day how much of a loser he is.”
With that, she threw whatever had been in her half-full glass in my face. The sticky liquid splashed across my eyes and mouth and all along the top of my shirt. I sputtered, wiping at my face with my sleeve as Kirsten stormed off, pushing through the crowd.
People nearby had stopped their conversations to watch the scene unfold, and I could hear the whispers and giggles. They were all drunk, so they seemed to find it funny more than anything else.
I made my way to the bathroom, cleaned off my face, and wiped off my shirt as good as I could, which wasn’t saying much. Whatever this was mixed with was red and wasn’t ever coming out. On top of everything else, it smelled like I’d just rolled around the floor behind a bar.
I stank of booze.
Throwing away the stack of damn paper towels I’d used, I decided that was enough networking for me for the night. This might have been a way for other people to get discovered, or whatever, but it definitely wasn’t for me.
As I walked out of the bathroom, I saw this girl being essentially held up against the wall by two guys right next to the other bathroom. She was, quite possibly, the most gorgeous person I’d ever seen in real life. And that included meeting a handful of movie stars. She had long platinum blond hair and perfect, porcelain skin that would have seemed unrealistic even on a doll, let alone on a person.
She also seemed completely gone. Her blue eyes were open, but they were glassy and unfocused, and she was not holding up her own bodyweight. She was awake, but completely limp, and it seemed like, whatever she was on, it was well past alcohol or some weed.
The two guys holding her up, pressed against the wall, had their hands all over her, under her skirt and down her blouse, groping her. There was a moment when she seemed to come to her senses, not all the way, but a little bit, and tried to push them away weakly, before slumping again. The guys thought it was hilarious.
Part of me wanted to ignore it. It wasn’t my business, I’d had a crappy night, and I just wanted to go back to my hotel.
I couldn’t do that though.
“Hey, back off. Leave her alone,” I said.
They turned to look at me. The bigger of the pair, a guy with slicked-back hair and an expensive suit, pushed her weight on his friend and took a step toward me, closing the distance. He wasn’t huge, but he was the bigger of the pair. He was also shorter than me.
“Mind your own business, kid. We’re just having some fun.”
“She’s clearly not in any state to consent to your ‘fun’. I’m not going to ask again. Back off.
“And what are you going to do about it?” He jabbed a finger into my chest.
I grabbed his wrist, twisting it away from me, pushing his face into the wall next to his friend, kind of how they were pushing the girl into the wall.
“Last warning,” I said to the one holding up the girl, my hand pressed against the back of his buddy’s greasy head, holding him against the wall as he struggled to get his arm free.
I held his eyes and didn’t look away. These two were drunk, but not beyond reason, and his buddy had more sense.
“Sure. We were just playing,” he said, kind of propping her against the wall and stepping away.
I released greasy hair and stepped back. The guy massaged his sore wrist, but didn’t try anything else, just giving me the evil eye as the pair slinked off. The girl started to sag, about to collapse on the floor.
I caught the woman as she started to slide down the wall. “Hey, are you okay? Do you have friends here? Someone who can get you home safe?”
She mumbled something incoherent, her head lolling to the side. She wasn’t going to be able to help me. I half carried her to a chair a few feet away and lowered her into it, trying to make sure she was sitting in a way that her very short dress didn’t expose anything. There had been a small clutch style purse on the ground where she was standing that was kind of the same dark blue of her dress. I retrieved it and dug through it for a second, trying to find some way of identifying her. Inside was a phone, locked of course, some makeup, and a driver’s license that said ‘Alina Petrova.’
That name didn’t mean anything to me. She was at this party, so she was either in the business, knew someone in the business, or had been someone in the business’s date. If she knew someone or had been someone’s date, they’d abandoned her, because no one else at the party was even paying attention to us.
I honestly had no idea what to do at this point, so I pulled out my phone and called Warren. He picked up on the sixth ring.
“Charlie? Everything alright?” he said, sounding incredibly groggy.
It occurred to me it was almost one in the morning.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but I’ve got a big problem,” I said, speaking up over the loud music. “I found this girl, she was being assaulted by these two guys. She’s on, something, completely gone. I was about to leave, but … I can’t leave her here. Not like this.”
“Do you know who she is?”
“Yeah, I found an ID in her purse. It says her name’s Alina Petrova.”
“The supermodel?” Warren said, sounding genuinely surprised.
“I have no idea. I mean, yeah, I could believe she’s a model, but I don’t know who that is.”
“Man, Charlie, you gotta look at a magazine or something.”
“No, what I have to do right now is figure out what to do about the unconscious girl.”
“Yeah. Sorry,” he said. There was a rustling sound like he was sitting up in bed. “I actually know some people who might know her people. Let me make some calls. Are you good to hang tight for a few minutes?”
“Yeah. I got her in a chair.”
“Okay. I’ll call you right back,” he said, and hung up.
That was at least a little bit of a relief. I was standing next to her, kind of supporting her head against my side, so she didn’t fall out of the chair.
I caught a glimpse of greasy hair in the crowd of people dancing, talking to some other girl, who at least looked conscious. Every now and then, people would look my way, looking at her, then me, occasionally saying something to the person they were with.
I felt incredibly awkward and just wanted Warren to call back.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” A slurred voice came from my left.
I turned to see a very sweaty Vince. I should have known if Julie was here, he wasn’t far behind. He also looked to be completely blasted out of his mind, the same as everyone else but me and the bartenders.
“Not now, Vince.”
“Looks like you found yourself a party favor.” He leered at Alina. “Planning on sharing?”
Disgust rolled through me. Fucking creep.
“Get lost,” I said.
Vince sneered. “Oh, get off your high horse. We’re all here to have a good time. Don’t act like you’re better than the rest of us.”
“I’m not acting like I’m better. I am better than you. Last time, get lost.”
I’d been in a bad mood before this started. It had only gotten worse and I was honestly looking for a reason to beat the shit out of someone. I knew I shouldn’t, couldn’t, since even with most the business types gone, doing that in a place like this would come back to haunt me. Worse, it’d come back to haunt Lyla, Seth, and the half dozen other people now counting on me to make the right decision for their livelihood.
But god, did I want to punch him in his stupid, stupid face.
I think Vince could see it. See it on my face, because he started to say something, and then snapped his mouth closed. He spat on the ground near my feet, I guess in some kind of power move, and then staggered off.
Alina had gone still, so I reached down and checked her pulse, which was all I could think to do. It was slow and steady, and she was breathing, which I hoped meant she’d just fallen asleep.
My phone finally buzzed.
“Hey, what’d you find out?” I asked as soon as I answered.
“Okay, so, I talked to her management, who I tangentially know, at least enough to convince them this isn’t a put-on,” Warren said. “They gave me the name of the hotel she’s staying at. Her agent is in Baltimore at the moment and was meeting her in the morning, but they’re calling their offices there and having someone meet her at the hotel. Just put her in a cab and send her over.”
I looked down at Alina, who was still completely out of it. “I don’t know, Warren. In the state she’s in, I don’t trust just putting her in a cab alone.”
“Charlie, you can’t be responsible for every person who parties too hard.”
“I know, but... I just can’t leave her like this. What if something happens to her in the cab?”
Warren sighed. “Alright, take her to the hotel, but hand her off to her people. The last thing we need is a doorman saying you went up to her room or something.”
“I will. Thanks, Warren.”
I hung up. The party seemed to be finally winding down, with people starting to stumble out. I gently shook Alina’s shoulder.
“Hey, Alina? We need to get you back to your hotel, okay?”
She mumbled something incoherent, her head lolling to the side. I sighed. This was going to be fun.
I managed to get her to her feet, supporting most of her weight as we made our way to the elevators. We got more than a few curious glances, but thankfully no one tried to stop us.
Downstairs, I got her out the door... and into about a dozen flashing cameras. There were a bunch of what I guessed were paparazzi taking pictures of the famous people leaving the party. They were shouting at us, well, mostly at Alina. I’m not sure any of them knew who I was.
It was massively overwhelming. There was a line of cabs at the front, I guess hoping to get one of the people rich enough to leave a good tip but not so rich they had their own car. I went to the closest one, pushed Alina in, and slid in next to her, giving the driver the name of the hotel and telling him to get us out of there.
Cameramen were still taking our picture as we drove away. Alina slumped against me, her head on my shoulder. I tried to sit her up, but she just slid down again. I gave up and let her stay there.
When we arrived at her hotel, the doorman was already waiting. Together, we managed to get Alina out of the cab and into the elevator.
“I got a call from her management,” the doorman explained as we rode up. “They said to expect her, and that someone would be coming to take care of her.”
I nodded, relieved. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with this alone.
We got to her floor and half-carried, half-dragged her down the hallway to her room. The doorman used a master key to let us in.
We had just laid her on the bed when there was a knock at the door. The doorman opened it to reveal a harried-looking woman.
“Hi. Thank you so much for your help. I’ve got it from here,” the woman said, hustling myself and the doorman out.
“I hope she’s o…” I tried to say as the woman shut the door on me.
I rode the elevator back down and stopped to press a tip into his hand as we got off, “Thanks again for your help.”
“No problem at all, sir,” the guy said, looking at the five dollars I gave him with a little bit of a frown.
Maybe this was the kind of place where people tipped more. I gave him a tired smile and left. I’m sure Alina’s people would give him something too, or at least I thought they might.
It wasn’t my problem anymore. I’d done my good deed for the day. All I wanted to do was get back to my hotel, get out of these nasty, alcohol-stained clothes, take a shower, and sleep for twelve hours.
Parties just weren’t for me.
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