“And just get on with it,” Owen agreed. “How many celebrities do you hear about getting kidnapped or murdered? Except for that, ah, what was her name?”“That was a jewel heist,” Emily remembered. “I don’t have any jewellery worth heisting, so I guess we are good there,” she joked, and then saw the expression on his face. The only piece of jewellery she had owned that worth more than a couple of hundred dollars was the engagement ring. She wondered what he had done with it after she had turned down his off-hand proposal.“Yeah,” he said soberly. “That is true. You should have jewellery though, Emily. We can afford… Anyway,” he realised they were getting into a conversation that the timing and mood just was not right for.“So, we are just too public, Em.” He returned to the stalker, and she thought ruefully that it was preferable to discuss a stalker over the unanswered question of their relationship. “We are untouchable because we make ourselves touchable. There are too many people aro
She next woke when James banged his hands rhythmically along the outside of the bus calling their names. Owen groaned. “F-king drummers,” he complained. “What is the time?”“I don’t know, but I am starving.”The bus engine was silent, and the driver had already departed, so they had arrived a while before, they realised, and slept through it. They used the en suite and dressed, pushing sunglasses onto their faces as they staggered down the steps into the daylight and squinted against the unfamiliar glare of the sun, fuzzy brained and groggy from sleep.“This is different,” Owen commented as they were joined Seb, Jeremy and James on the pavement, the three guys looking brighter and more awake than Emily felt. Seb held a black espresso coffee in his hand which might, she thought, account for their alertness. “Being at the venue bright and early.”“It is midday,” Seb pointed out. “Most people don’t consider that early.”“Early for us,” Owen grinned lopsidedly, his dimple appearing. “I wo
“Are you alright?” Owen hovered close but not too close. He could deal with most things, but vomit was not one of them. They were parked on the side of the road, with cars honking as they passed the two oversized band busses loudly emblazoned with Two Way Street on all sides. The advertisement was a disadvantage, Emily thought miserably, when she had her head in a bucket. “Two Way Street!” Someone screamed out the window. The rest of the band and some roadies were fending off a carload of fans that had pulled up behind the second bus, and their laughter rolled back to her as James hammed it up for their photos, keeping them from wondering where Emily and Owen were. Emily sat on the curb, in the shelter of the luggage compartment door, the bucket on her lap. “Stomach bug, maybe?” She said wearily. “You have been off colour for a few days, maybe we should call a doctor,” Owen commented. “I thought it was… well, you know,” he shrugged. The stalker. He thought she had been off becau
The bus pulled up. “Shit,” Owen muttered, and got up to pack away his guitar and notepad. “Planes might be faster, but on a bus, you are not stuck in one seat the entire time.”“You could still work on your lyrics during the flight,” she shouldered her laptop bag. “I write. You could get a laptop, or a tablet, and do your music electronically.”“Gawd, no,” he grimaced. “There is something so sterile about that.”“Music snob.”“Opera singer.”“Are we flying first class?” She added as they stepped out onto the pavement. The two security guards who accompanied them were already there, carrying their bags over their shoulders.The roadies were busy organising the transportation of the equipment, and she saw several people in the airport uniform step over to them. James was fussing over his drumkit, and Jeremy was surrendering a guitar to the roadies’ care. Seb had his arms around Jacinta, and they were oblivious to the activity behind them.“Yeah, I think Aaron has been setting us up with
“This place is amazing,” Megan said as she got out of the limousine, sliding on her oversized sunglasses like a movie star and tossing her purple-streaked dark hair over her shoulder. “And it is not the bottle of champagne talking, though I sure could use a bathroom.” “Meg,” Emily embraced her warmly. “Thank you,” she whispered in her ear. “Thank me later, show me the bathroom now,” Megan replied. “Owen, be a sweetie and bring my suitcase in,” she added as she kissed his cheeks enthusiastically leaving purple toned lipstick behind and deliberately not telling him about it. Emily took Meg inside, showing her to the powder room, and watched as Owen wrestled Megan’s luggage down the hall to the bedroom the band had decided would be a spare. “How long is she staying again?” Owen whispered as he went past. “Are you sure she is not moving in?” “I heard that,” Megan swatted his behind as she stepped out of the bathroom, and Owen flashed her a grin. “Alright, grand tour, sis,” she linked
“It was just so… sensible,” Megan declared. “It was pretty, sure. But it wasn’t too much. It was all about not being too much. It was about fitting in a box, and Em… You have never really been an in the box sort of person. Sure, you can squish yourself in there pretty convincingly. But you f-king sing opera like a diva, and you shed your bikini top at the drop of a hat on a nice sunny day…”“One time!”“Regardless, you are totally a suppressed drama queen. Your wedding dress needs to be…” Megan shrugged and laughed. “Other level. Like, black, masses of tulle, a train that takes fifteen hundred bridesmaids to keep under control, and a f-king princess carriage to arrive in. Your wedding dress shouldn’t be an apology of politeness, like, I am so sorry, is my lace too loud? Your dress should be a declaration, a trumpet flare, a f–k this shit, stand back and admire the rock glory.”Emily laughed. “Oh, Meg.”“Like you didn’t love every second of your time with Vice and Victor. I have seen t
“Are you sure that you are going to be okay once I am gone?” Megan asked her as she prepared to leave.“Are you going to be okay?” Emily replied. “More to the point, is James going to be ok? He looks like someone has kicked him in the balls.”“Aww,” Megan pouted and glanced over Emily’s shoulders at the dejected drummer hovering in the background. “I would stay… If.”“If what exactly?” Emily wondered.“If I lived in the same f-ked up fantasy world as you and Owen. Not everyone can just throw everything in, quit their jobs, sell their houses, and run away with a band, Em.”“I don’t know why not,” Emily replied. “It worked for me.”“Did it?” Megan challenged her. “I don’t hear Owen going around crowing about being your baby-daddy, do I?”Emily swallowed. “That is complicated.”Megan raised her eyebrows. “He was there for the making of it, Em, he has responsibility for this end of it, too. But he can’t take on that responsibility if you don’t let him know he has one.”“Meg…”“Em,” Megan
“Sure,” Emily said. “Do you think you will be able to get Road Assist out here?” “I don’t know. It is not the sort of neighbourhood where I want to wait around forever in either,” he replied pulling the limousine to a stop so that the trunk faced towards a building and away from the street. “I might have to change it myself.” “I have done that a time or two but not on something this big,” she said easily. “I might stretch my legs whilst you do it, and see if there is a discrete spot that I could squat in. Sorry, so embarrassing.” He laughed. “No worries, Emily. I guess you are used to making do with less-than-ideal bathroom situations on the road.” “Yes, there are some places where using a bush is preferable to the toilet,” she replied. “I have learnt not to be too delicate over it.” If she did not call emergency services, and Nathan kidnapped, raped, and killed her, she would be the celebrity who did not call for help. The rock chick bimbo who did not see danger until it was too