World tour, p.10
World Tour, page 10
As I lay in bed, tossing and turning, because like an idiot, I slept half the day, and my mind won’t shut off. Running through my head are the events of the last few days, plus the deadline for the album, plus Diana, plus my mom, plus, plus, plus. Finally, I drift off at some ungodly hour, and I’m asleep when I think I’m dreaming, hearing strange noises coming from somewhere in the house, when I awake and realize that I’m not dreaming. It’s Diana, having a bad dream, and I think…what the fuck do I do?
Maybe she’ll calm down and stop, or wake up, or something. Part of me wants to run to her to make sure that she’s okay, and then I worry that maybe that son of a bitch father found out where Diana is, came looking for her, and busted into my house, and I trot down the hallway, carrying the guitar that’s closest to my head with me, to use as a weapon. Some people grab a baseball bat. I grab a guitar.
As I reach her room, I listen. She’s left the door open slightly. Creeping my head inside, I open the door fully, with my guitar at the ready, when she bolts upright, screaming. Running to her, I turn on the lamp on the nightstand. “Diana!” I hiss in the silence. “You had a bad dream.” I say, as if she doesn’t know. Funny the stupid fucking things we say sometimes.
I’m in my underwear, kneeling next to her on the floor, feeling very aware that I’m all but naked. “Are you okay?” I whisper, not knowing what to do. Do I hug her? She could have been having a nightmare that I was attacking her, for all I know, so I decide against that.
She’s shaking like a leaf. Her hair is tied up in a bun on top of her head. She’s not crying, but her breathing is ragged, like she’s been running. Suddenly she jumps, as if she hears something. “What was that?” her voice is jittery.
“Nothing, Di. I didn’t hear anything.” Seriously. You can hear a pin drop in here. My nearest neighbor is acres away.
She jumps again, leaning in another direction.
“Di, it’s just your imagination. There’s nothing there. Trust me.” I decide that it’s safe to rub her arm. She doesn’t jump when I touch her, which is a relief. Her legs are sticking out of the blankets, and an unruly top button on her pyjamas has decided to undo itself, allowing a small bit of her cleavage to show. My touch, somehow, seems to calm her. Continuing to stroke her arm, I pull a wad of her blankets up to cover myself, and I sit on the bed beside her. Resting my hands on her shoulders, I knead them. “You okay?” I murmur softly.
Her shoulders are so tight I swear I must be hurting her, but she’s slowly loosening up. “Yeah.” She says finally, but she makes no move for me to stop. My hands work vigorously, as the longer she lets me do it, the more permission she’s innately given me to continue, and suddenly her head is resting on my chest as I massage her.
“Am I scaring the Boogeyman away?” I chuckle softly.
“Something like that.” Her head finds its way to my shoulder, and she rests it there, almost melting into me. Man, she wasn’t kidding. She trusts the hell out of me. I’m sitting in my underwear on her bed, and she knows, somehow, that she can trust me not to take advantage. I wouldn’t dare. Any other chick, I would have fucked her brains out by now. But with Diana, my mind is ions away from thinking of her in that light. “Your hands are so strong from playing the guitar. Either that or you were a masseuse in a previous life.”
“I’m thinking it’s the first reason.” I say softly, as my hands travel down her back, massaging her as I go. She just leans on me, as trusting as a newborn baby. When I reach the bottom of her back, I decide not to go any further. Like, nowhere near her ass, because that part of my brain is reminding me that I’m in my underwear. “You feel better now?”
When I pull back, she puts her arms around my neck, and I hold her, reciprocating. Her hold is soft at first, but then she grips tighter, and I follow, when suddenly I can feel her chest heaving. Burying her head into my shoulder, she gasps and hiccups, crying so softly I can barely hear her. I say nothing, but just hold her, allowing her to let that all out. Rubbing her back, I try like hell to soothe her. What this poor girl has been through is unfathomable. She’s not told a soul before the last twenty-four hours. How the hell she survived that emotionally is beyond me.
“I’m sorry. I’m snotting all over you.” She gasps.
“I don’t fucking care, sweetheart.” I kiss her neck softly. “You earned this.”
With that, she snuggles in closer, and I feel as if, if it were appropriate, that she would all but wrap her legs around me, just to feel closer. It makes my heart swell. And for the record, nothing else is swelling right now, so get your mind out of the gutter.
“I don’t understand.” She mewls. “I never cry.”
“Yeah, well, then, you were long overdue, Di.”
She pulls back, wiping her eyes with her thumbs. I reach over to the nightstand and grab the tissue box, and I hand her one. She releases me so she can blow her nose and wipe her eyes. I take a tissue when she’s looking, and wipe my shoulder in an exaggerated motion, giving her a look that says, ‘thanks a load, lady’, only in a joking manner. She laughs, but because her nose is stuffed, it sounds more like a snort, and we both laugh.
“That’s sexy.” I say, trying to make her laugh more. She does.
“You know what else is sexy?”
“What?”
“You sitting there with a diaper on.” She points to how I’m sitting on the bed. The way the blankets are wrapped around my genitals, it really does look like I’m wearing a diaper. “I didn’t know rock stars slept in Depends.” She chuckles, even though she tries not to.
I look at her, half wanting to punch her jokingly, half wanting to kiss her. I just laugh, giving her a sideways glance. “Hey, I was saving you from awkwardness. Think if I wasn’t wearing anything at all. Now that wouldn’t look good.”
My guitar, sitting precariously by the wall, slides down, falling. Diana jumps a mile, screaming. Her fingernails dig into my shoulders. “I…it’s okay, sweetness.” I hold her tight. My voice is muffled against her shoulder. “It’s just my guitar.” I lick my lips. “I grabbed it in case there was a prowler or something in the house.”
She’s shaking like a leaf again. All the work from before is gone. “Danny, I can’t do this. I’m never going to survive the night.”
“No, no, don’t say that.” I say, shushing her softly. “Just give me a sec.” I murmur before getting up to go grab my guitar, partly so the goddamn thing won’t make more noise, and also for an idea I have in mind. Trotting to my room, I grab my portable amplifier, throw on a pair of jeans, run back to Diana’s room, and plug everything in, setting the volume level low. I start strumming a song that I know she knows, because it’s a fan favorite, and one of our best sellers. It’s a slow ballad. We start singing it together softly, in smatters here and there, and I watch her slowly unclench.
I don’t play the whole thing, because my guitar is out of tune from the fall and from not being played for a long time, so I stop about halfway through. “Sorry. It sounds like shit. And it’s not even the right guitar, either. I never use this one.”
“It sounds fine.” She says. “Thanks for that. You’re very thoughtful.”
“I know you like to sing.” I shrug.
“You have a nice voice, Danny.”
I pat myself on the chest, feigning pride. “Well, I do sing back up in this band…” I say it like she might not be familiar with it.
That gets a smile. “Danny,”
“Yeah.” I place my guitar on the floor, so I’m guaranteed it won’t fall down again and scare the shit out of her. For good measure, I also unplug the amp.
“I know that this may sound…odd. Maybe even a little creepy or…awkward.”
“Spit it out, sweetness.”
“Can you…stay with me?” She licks her lips. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to get up and have to sing tomorrow. But at this rate, if I’m alone, I’m never going to get any sleep.”
“Do you have bad dreams a lot?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “This is the first one I’ve had in a long time, and I’m not sure why.”
“Maybe now that you’re safe, your mind is letting itself deal with all those demons, sweetheart.” I suggest.
“Will you stay with me?” she asks again.
I nod, without even thinking. “Sure. Just give me a minute to get this shit out of here.” I say, grabbing my guitar and my amp, taking it all back to my room. When I come back, I turn the lamp off, and I get in bed beside her. “Now, I’m not sure what the rules are here, sweetness. So, you’ve got to tell me.”
“There are no rules, Danny. I told you before that I trust you.”
I get in bed and lay on my back, a foot away from her. I can feel her turn over to face me. “Are you scared?” she asks me.
“Scared of what?”
“Because I asked you to sleep next to me.”
“Why would I be scared of that?” My eyes have adjusted to the darkness. She’s snuggled in next to me like we’re having a slumber party.
“I don’t know.” She says honestly. “I’ve never slept next to anyone before.”
“Are you scared?”
“I’m more scared of sleeping alone. Otherwise I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Well, I’m not scared, Di.”
“Have you ever slept next to anyone?”
It takes me a minute to think about it. Then I remember. “There was this one chick I brought here. We…well, you know…and then I asked her to stay the night.” I lick my lips. “But when I woke up in the morning, she was gone. So was one of my prized guitars.”
Her eyes bulge and she gasps. “How awful. What did you do?”
“Hunted the bitch down and got it back, of course.” I scoff. “Because of her I don’t invite chicks to stay over anymore. If I do bring them around, I don’t take them into the basement, where I keep all my guitars. That is the one reason why I might have a recording studio; so I have somewhere to lock my shit up.” I pause. “By the way, I noticed that you put the change from the fifty on the counter. Keep it. It’s yours.”
“Never mind that, Danny. Did that girl cause a fuss?”
“No. She was pissed off that she didn’t get away with it. But I think everything happens for a reason. I’m way more careful about who I bring around here now. And I never leave my stuff out anymore. It gets locked up when we’re on tour. It sucks that one person had to ruin it for all, but it is what it is.” I turn over to face her. “Come on. You better get some sleep, girl. You want to charm the pants off of the folks in church, don’t you?”
“Okay.” She says as she turns over, putting her back to me. I slide my arm under the pillow, still facing her. “Danny?”
“Um hm.”
“Goodnight.”
I kiss a spot on her shoulder that’s exposed. “Goodnight.”
Her hand carefully finds its way to mine. She pulls me to her, so I have to spoon her, and she cuddles into me. Cradling her body, I tuck my hand under her side, so we almost melt together, and I rest my head next to hers.
…she’s asleep in under two minutes.
***
I wake up first. Diana is laying on her side, just the way she was last night. She hasn’t budged an inch. I’m still on my side, too, and I can’t help but wonder if I moved at all, either. I have to pee so bad, but I don’t want to wake her, so I slowly creep out of bed and walk out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. It’s still early. Like, it’s not even seven o’clock, and I know that she still has another half an hour or so to sleep. I hop in the shower and take care of getting up and ready, and I start making breakfast.
Her alarm goes off when it’s supposed to, and I can hear the soft music coming from the room. She walks into the bathroom and starts getting ready. She must think I’m still asleep. Once she’s showered, I see her come out of the bathroom in a fluffy white robe. And I’m so nervous for her. Now I know why she’s been seeing a coach slash therapist all these years. She’s practically vibrating with nervous energy. I’ve made her breakfast, but she gives me a face, like she’d rather die than put food in her mouth. Neither of us are dressed yet. We’re showered and she has her hair tied up in a bun, but we both just have a robe on. God, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think we were a couple who spent the night together, making love. It’s…strange but good, in a way.
“When do you have to leave?” I ask.
“I have to be there an hour before the service. So, like, ten o’clock. It’s almost nine. “I should go finish getting ready.”
“You should eat something. Even just a little. You’ll faint.”
She waves her hand. “No, I can never eat before I go on.”
“Me neither, to be honest.”
She shakes her head and barks, good naturedly. “Then, why are you pressuring me to eat?” a step towards me, shoving me playfully on the shoulder. “You hypocrite!”
I grab her, spinning her around, snorting on her shoulder. “Why you…I made you breakfast, and this is the thanks I get!” I’m tickling her belly, and she’s squealing. Then I pull her up, so her back is facing me, and I massage her neck, just like I did last night. “Now, go get ready.”
Leaning her head forward, she takes it in. “Well, see, now I’m not going anywhere, so long as you’re doing that.”
“I’ll do it some more after you get ready.” I say but make no move to stop.
“You’re not going to make this any easier, are you.” She mutters, taking it all in. I finally stop and pat her bottom.
“Go. Get ready.” I pat her again.
She spins around, still looking like the puddle that she’s turned into, thanks to my massage. “Thanks for breakfast.” She leans in and kisses my lips.
I reciprocate, giving her a small peck, and now, suddenly, it just feels like it’s our thing. “You’re welcome.”
She walks away, and I lick my lips. God, it’s like fucking candy. I like it. Problem is, do I like it too much?
***
I’m on the phone with Booker, who is up, surprisingly, and is wrestling with himself as to what to do about Amanda, who keeps calling him incessantly, when Diana taps me on the shoulder. She’s got a cream trench coat on, and she has her purse over her shoulder. Her hair is all loose in small curls along the bottom. She looks fucking phenomenal, even though I don’t know what’s under the trench coat. To my pleasant surprise, she gives me a kiss goodbye, leaving lip gloss residue on my lips, which I leave there. “Good luck, sweetness.” I say, without realizing that Booker can hear me, and that he probably heard us kiss. She’d called off the address to the church while she was getting ready, which I took down, sticking the note on the fridge so I wouldn’t lose it.
We’d discussed going together, but Diana said that since she had to be there so far in advance, that I’d be bored out of my mind and would have much better things to do. Plus, that would make her more nervous, as she would be worrying more about me than about her.
“Dude, did you just call her ‘sweetness’?” Booker teases.
“Yeah, so?”
“You finally banged her, didn’t you.” He’s impressed.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then, was that a kiss I heard, too?”
“Yes. She was just saying goodbye is all. She kissed me earlier, too, as a thank you.”
“I bet you want to thank her in better ways, huh. You got blue balls yet?”
“It’s not like that, man.”
“You’re in love with her.” he half teases, but I feel like there’s a shred of truth to what he’s insinuating.
“Look, just be honest with Amanda.” I say, changing the subject. “If you’re not into her, then you’re not into her. That’s that.” I pause. “The fact that you’re sweating over it makes me think that maybe you are into her.”
“I’m not, I just…I don’t want to make things weird with Diana is all. If she’s going to be staying with you, I don’t want any awkwardness between us when I see her.”
I’m only half buying this. “Sure it is. Because you always sweat that much over what people think of you.”
“Fuckoff, I’m serious.”
“Okay, fine. Then just tell her you’re not into her. She’ll appreciate it more that you’re being honest.”
“Is she going to be at this shindig this morning?”
“Yeah. As far as I know.”
“When does it start?”
I tell him. “Have we had a change of heart?”
“Fuckoff. I just…I want to tell Amanda in person, that’s all.”
“Sure.” I check my watch. “I’m leaving in a half an hour. Get your ass over here and we’ll go together.”
***
Booker is sitting in my car, wringing his hands together. I’m not sure who’s more nervous. “Are you going to shit yourself or something? How come you’re so bent out of shape, man?”
“Dude, I haven’t been to a church in like ten years, man. You can’t tell me that you’re not just a little ragged over it.”
“I’m not, actually.” I admit. I’m more nervous for Diana.”
“Well, shit, she’s used to singing in front of people, just like me.”
“Not exactly, man. She sees a coach and a therapist for it.”
He looks at me. “No shit?”
I shake my head. “She told me herself. Been dealing with stage fright since she was a kid. Used to puke it was so bad.”
“Fuck…me. I never had anything like that, man. Sure, I’m nervous. But I deal.”
“Everybody’s different, man.”
“Hey, you think we’ll be spotted?”
I look at him. He’s wearing a pair of black dress pants, a white linen shirt with a skinny black tie, and his hair is gelled back. I’m dressed almost the same, only I have a smoke grey dinner jacket on, too. And my hair isn’t slicked back, although I did use some product to tame the curls. “I think we’re good, man.”
The place is packed. It’s like a sold-out show. I’m amazed. Amanda sees us from closer to the front, and she waves us over. She gives Booker a kiss on the lips and gives me a hug. “I saved you guys a seat. Diana said that you’d be coming.”
