Chapter 5: Rock Stars Get The Girl

Kat

Trace leans over his guitar, his handsome face absorbed in his performance. His dark, messy hair is curled with sweat, and his soaked vintage t-shirt clings to his broad chest. I can't get my eyes wide enough to take him all in. I can't listen hard enough to the electric melody he's making. I can't breathe deep enough to take in the scent of the stage smoke that softens his silhouette. Trace Gallant completely fills my senses.

"Here," Colin's hand is around my waist again, and he's putting a drink in my hand. I take a sip to be polite, but after a moment I sit it on a case and go back to memorizing every detail of Trace's performance. I had plenty of champagne in the limo, and I won't get drunk tonight. The last time I got drunk around Trace ended in disaster.

Snippets of memory from that New Year's Eve flash in my head, all out of order. Angry words. Distant music. Free-fall. Cold fingers on my face, my neck, beneath my shirt. Shivering, then warmth. Pain. Tiny white fairy lights. Exhilaration. Trace saying my name over and over. Red lights, exploding in the distance. Trace's low sexy laugh. Stairs. Softness. Hardness. Screams. Regret. Confusion. So much confusion.

The one thing I remember quite clearly...the kiss. I remember how it felt, start to finish. The way Trace's lips softly teased mine three times before he groaned like he'd lost a war and threw away his pledge of "little" and "innocent." Then his hands wrapped in my hair as our mouths merged in a slow, sweet frenzy. Until Trace kissed me,I didn't even know you could feel that much at once, and I have never felt that much since. Like I was free. Like I was safe. Like I could only do right. Like I never wanted anything before, and I never wanted anything more. Like it could feel this real forever.

I close my eyes and snap my rubber band ten times, and when I open them, Colin is staring at me. He looks from the rubber band on my wrist, to Trace out there on the stage, and then his lips and jaw and shoulders all tense. Damn. He knows.

Trace is my obsession, the unwanted thought I'm always trying to put away by snapping the rubber band.

I lean forward. "I want to go to out front." Trace is too close; I need to get away. I need to be in the crowd. Trace brought me hear to tell me about Ashlynn, and that's what I need to think about. Not about kissing him.

Colin, ever dutiful, nods and turns to find Riley. Maddie and Laurel want to stay backstage, but Colin and I muscle our way out to the pit along with the security guard. To my surprise, he stays with us, discreetly, a few feet back, but guarding our space. I guess he's part of the arrangements Trace made.

I pull Colin's arms around me. He lets me, and moves like me, like the rest of the crowd. It's easier out here for me to focus on the sound, and the whole band. I try to keep my eyes off Trace and pay attention to each member of Soundcrush.

Leed is the obvious attention getter. His voice is rich and sure, and he stalks about, his movements cat-like, raking back his shoulder length copper hair. He pours all his emotion into the performance...his voice sometimes tortured, sometimes frantic, sometimes exuberantly roaring. Every few songs, he purrs intimate stories and anecdotes to the crowd. Trace told me once his nickname in the band is the Lion, and I can definitely see why.

His younger sister MacKenna has the same kind of cat-like grace, maybe not as powerful or predatory as Leed, but definitely as dangerous, and sexy. Her hair is also red—longer, straighter, lighter, and the underneath is filled with pastel colored highlights, like a secret rainbow. She dances while she plays the keys and it's like she's another performance inside the show.

Adam is the bass player. Adam is probably my favorite Soundcrush member, besides Trace. He is a real sweetheart—much sweeter than Trace. More like Cols in disposition, and in body type, but not in looks. Dirty blonde, longish hair on the top that falls down across his face as he plays, and more stubble than the other members of Soundcrush, makes him look deceptively like the bad-ass of the band, but that title definitely belongs to Trace. Adam is large and muscular, but not quite as chiseled and svelte as the others.  He's basically a super sexy farm-boy. From the few times I met him, I'd say his disposition is much the same. He mostly lets his bass do the the talking for him.

Every member of Soundcrush is sex on a stick in their own way, and Bodie Jameson is no exception. He's got beautiful skin and strong features—some mix of genetics that produces a creature as close to perfection as a person can get. He has a blinding smile, a highly attractive way of being completely unaware of the movement of his dreadlocks, and his body is taut, pumping at top drummer speed.

I watch them all, but my eyes keep going back to Trace. They are all good-looking, but Trace is extra. He's not just hot, he's full of life. He's doesn't stalk the stage dramatically like Leed, but he owns it. He's perfectly at ease—with himself, with his guitar, with the crowd. Every movement he makes looks...right. The way he grins, the way he lifts his shoulder slightly as he works through a solo, the way he pitches forward and tosses the shiny fringe of hair from his eyes. The way he finds me easily down front and his eyes lock perfectly onto mine during the songs that are my favorites, like he could possibly know which ones I like the best. But he does, somehow. Probably because he helped me craft my musical tastes, during my formative years.

About halfway through the set, the band interjects a cover into their original music. One of the biggest rock songs ever-- Everlong. The crowd starts to cheer as soon as Adam solidifies the base line. Trace meets my eyes as he bears down on the first blurry chord. He raises his eyebrows as if to say, remember?

Yeah, I remember him playing that on New Year's, while we flirted, right before he kissed me.

To my surprise, Trace takes the lead on the vocals. Makes sense; gives Leed a break, and it's not a Soundcrush song, so there's no comparison between Leed's performance and Trace's to be made. Trace has a very good voice, too, but his performance style is more understated, restrained and edgy...like the grunge of old. This song is perfect for him to sing. His eyes never leaves mine as his sings.

Hello, I've waited here for you...everlong.

I roll my eyes and shake my head. Charming, but he can't fool me. He hasn't been waiting for me. He's been thriving. I've been snapping a damn rubber band against my wrist.

I've crept forward from Colin and a few people have moved between us. When I look back, his eyes are on Trace watching me. He reaches out for me, and I try to pull him forward, but instead he pulls me back, enveloping me in a tight embrace from behind. He kisses my neck roughly, while Trace watches and keeps singing.

Subtle, Cols.

I let him kiss me because I don't want to fight with my boyfriend under Trace's penetrating gaze, but I find myself a little irritated with him. I'm not a possession. I haven't given him any reason to be jealous of Trace. I didn't even want to come tonight. Okay, that's sort of a lie, but I wouldn't have come, if Laurel and Maddie hadn't insisted. I wouldn't have come because I knew how this night would go. I knew Trace would do this—make me feel like my old self and...connected to him. And in a few days, he'll be playing another city while I break a dozen rubber bands and feel more hollow than ever.

Except it's not about how I feel. Not really. It's about Ashlynn. I knew she was out there somewhere, but if she's coming to Soundcrush shows, its probably her way of reaching out, of finding her way back to us. It makes sense in a way, like walking backwards to return to your starting point. And god knows, I want her to come home. We all do. So now, I am connected to Trace, at least until I reconnect with her.

But there's nothing I can do about Ashlynn right now, and the fact that Trace has seen her recently actually makes me worry for her less, so I decide to let go of worry and memory, and just be in the moment. Soundcrush really does put on an amazing show.As the set rolls on and the sound gets harder, I lose myself in the music, thrashing around at the front and center of the pit. Colin, not one for moshing, sticks close, as does the security guard. By the finale, I'm thrumming with happiness as the crowd all screams in unison for the encore. They are chanting Little Sister. I don't even mind, especially since Trace prepared me for it. I'm kind of curious to hear Leed perform it live.

When the band comes back out and Bodie and Adam start the rhythym of the song, the crowd goes crazy. Trace has traded his electric guitar for the acoustic which is featured in Little Sister. Leed smiles into the microphone and pats the air with his hand. The crowd quiets down so they can hear him speak.

"So usually, we just come out and play the song, but Atlanta is our hometown, and you guys aren't just fans, you're family, right?" The crowd roars again and the band members all laugh and murmur thanks into their mics. Leed gestures for quiet again. "So I thought we'd give our family something special. Little Sister is our biggest hit, and alot of people have asked, is it about a real girl?"

Oh god. I look at Trace, but he's not looking at me now. He's cutting his eyes at Leed, and from this close, I can see he's pissed, but he keeps the smile on his face.

"You guys all know Trace wrote the song. So let's ask him." Leed swing around to Trace, his mouth still on the mic. "Hey Trace, is Little Sister a real girl?"

Trace laughs. "Fuck you, man. You know she is. You've met her." The crowd goes crazy, all chanting Little Sister, Little Sister.

"Thanks for playing along, man." The crowd rumbles in laughter. He turns to the crowd, intimately, like he's whispering to one person. "Trace is right. I already knew Little Sister is a real girl. In face, I saw her here tonight, and she's all grown up. Five-six, brunette bombshell with legs for miles."

The crowd roars so loud that I have to fight the urge to cover my ears. Suddenly, Colin's arms are around me, and I'm glad. Christ, is Leed going to out me in front of the whole Fox? What will happen then? Will they swarm me in their enthusiasm? The security guard is on my other side, but he's intentionally not looking at me at all.

Leed puts a hand up and makes a show of scanning the crowd. "Hey Little Sister, where are you? Oh, there you are." He's looking somewhere far back from me, and to my left. "Now, don't worry, Little Sister, your identity is safe with me." His eyes sweep casually toward me, and lock with mine for a second, and he smiles a movie star smile, but then he turns his attention back into the crowd. "I just wanted to dedicate this performance to you. That song started it all for us.Thanks for being Trace's muse."

The crowd whistles and cheers. Leed shifts to the side, so he can see Trace again. "But, speaking of Trace, I thought maybe he'd like to say a few words. We all know that normally, Trace is kind of a shady motherfucker when it comes to this song," A rumble of laughter and cheering erupts, and Trace shoots Leed a bird and bows to the crowd.

"But maybe Little Sister being here will move him to a little honesty."

Trace is laughing and shaking his head. He rolls out a few riffs on his guitar in lieu of words. The crowd is still chanting Little Sister, Little Sister.

"Come on, Trace. We're all family here. Tell us, and Little Sister, why you wrote the song for her."

Trace is laughing, but it's one of those pissed-off laughs that guys make before they punch somebody. He walks up to the mic Leed is using and gets in Leeds face. "Sure, Leed, since we're all family," Trace repeats. He turns to Bodie and the drums fade to a mere tap. Adam's bass follows.

He fingers the opening to the song, while he watches his own fingers work. The crowd is chanting, but he just continues to play the sweet sad acoustic opener until the crowd dies down. When the place is virtually quiet, except for his guitar, he raises his eyes to me again and smiles. Then he looks at Leed.

"Little Sister is about realizing how much you care about somebody in the same moment you realize you've hurt them. You'd trade your own soul to take that pain back, but the thing is... you can't steal someone's pain away if they won't show it to you. So, it's a plea for the person to trust you, so you can help them."

My heart is pounding now. I'm so furious with him. He didn't hurt me. Not like he thinks. What happened was just...an accident on the heels of a night of typical teenage bad decisions. How dare he say I didn't open up to him? He never gave me the chance. We had one huge fight, after, and he didn't hear what he wanted to hear from me. Then he disappeared for three years. That's what hurt me. I dash away an angry tear. Dammit, I hate the way I cry when I'm angry.

Random whistles and claps and cheers of "We love you, Trace!" ring out in the stadium.

"Wow," Leed says, his voice low. "That was beautiful, man. I'm sure Little Sister heard you." He claps Trace hard on the back and Trace shakes his head at Leed but he swings away and Mac's synthesizers fill in behind his guitar.

Leed bows his head and pours the lyrics out like a prayer, and then mid-song the base and drums kick back in for power. By the end, the crowd is on their feet and Leed is on his knees, right in front of me. As the song ends, the girls all around me are screaming Leed's name, and crying. Leed reaches out and grabs girls hands. I don't reach for him but he leans down and pulls my hand up, kissing it with a flourish.

"Did you like it?" he yells.

I give him a thumbs up and a big smile. Truthfully, it was a very a powerful performance...much more gripping than the studio version, and I think he was sincere in wanting to perform it well for me. I get the impression there is more to Leed than the asshole frontman reputation he has in the media.

The girl beside me stares at me, looking me up and down. "Oh my god, you're Little Sister!" she exclaims.

"No," I shake my head and turn toward Colin.

"No, she's not," Leed leans down into the crowd and protests too much. "Really. She's not. I don't even know her." He sounds panicked. God, to be a showman, he's a bad fucking liar.

The girl sees the anxiety stamped on Leed's face. "OH.MY.GOD!!! She is Little Sister!"

She says it over and over, pointing at me.

It happens all at once, people pressing around me, calling me Little Sister and pawing at me. People are snapping pictures. They push me, and feet get tangled and can't follow, and I stumble. Colin wraps an arm around me, and the security guard is trying to create a perimeter but he's only one person.

I hear Trace un-miced on the stage, bellowing off to the side. "Get some fucking guys down there, now!"

Several more burly guys in security T-shirts rush out and jump off the stage, hustling me and Colin through the crowd. We get jostled a little just because we are trying to make our way through the crowd so quickly, but the awareness that I'm Little Sister is quickly left behind, and we move easier the closer we got to side stage door.

As soon as we are backstage, Laurel and Maddie are swarming me.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Laurel asks.

Maddie is shoving her phone in my face. "Look, you are already on Haley's Instagram Story. Can you believe that? She reposted from Delilah, who reposted from Isaac, who reposted from some old dude I don't know... It's a good photo, though."

I'll admit it, I checked the picture. It's not good. I'm shiny from all the dancing and I look like I'm about to cry. You'd think one of my friends could have shopped my photo before reposting, but no.

I try to push past Maddie. I guess I have in mind to get a drink from the bartender, but Colin stops me short, jerking me around abruptly. He bends close.

"You ok?"

I nod and smile. "Of course, having fun. That was all just...publicity. Seems like Leed and Trace don't get along, huh?"

He wraps his arms around me and pulls my up on top of his feet, so that he doesn't have to bend down to talk into my ear. "Please don't lie to me. How long were you with him?"

This is no place for a lengthy explanation, so after a long hesitation I decide to give him the simplest truthful explanation that comes closest to describing what he's asking.

"One night."

I'm glad I can't see his face. Finally he says, "Must have been one serious night. He really got in your head. And vice versa."

He's right, but not in the way he's thinking. Okay, in the way he's thinking but he probably is imagining it both more...and less...than it actually was.

"It was a long time ago."

Suddenly, someone has my arm, pulling me away from Colin. Leed envelops me into a big damp hug, which is weird because I barely know him. I met him twice, three years ago. "I am soooo fucking sorry! I swear I would never have outed you on purpose. Are you okay?"

"I was until you shared all your sweat with me. Gross." I say dryly, prying away from him, and wrinkling my nose. He's left a giant Leed stain all over me.

He looks surprised. "Wow, never got that before. Most girls love the souvenir." He tips his chin toward Colin. "Sorry, man."

Colin isn't paying attention to Leed; he's staring down Trace, who's making his way toward us.

He walks right up and slides his hands into my hair, just like the night he kissed me. But this time, instead of urging our lips together, he forces my head up to look at him. He searches my face. "You're pissed—not scared, not hurt," he announces.

"Yeah."

He lets me go and murmurs. "I'm glad."

"Fucking stop walking up and grabbing her," Colin growls, veins are standing out in his neck. "Who does that?"

Trace looks me over. "Kat doesn't seem to mind."

I sigh. He's right, I like his hands on me. I can't help it, my body is a treacherous slut when it comes to him. But my brain is Team Self Respect. I step away from him, back toward Cols. "What was that out there?"

Trace holds up his hands, "I didn't start that shit." He points at Leed. "And if you want to take it up with him, you're gonna have to get in line behind me." He shoves Leed. "Fuck man, I've got security down there trying to buy phones, but it's a lost cause."

"They don't have her name," Leed says weakly.

"You can bet TMZ will have her fucking life story by tomorrow, and video of the whole Little Sister show. I don't need this shit right now. You know that."

"I know," Leed says quietly.

"I'm so sorry this might be embarrassing for you, Trace," I growl.

He sighs. "I'm not worried about me. It's complicated, Kat."

I blink. "What does that mean? Does that mean you have a girlfriend?" If he does; she's a secret. Sometimes, I take off the rubber band, and I stalk him, okay? I admit it. I'm not proud.

He crosses him arms and smirks at me. "Maybe, but you didn't see me bringing her to our date, did you? I'm gonna need that same level of courtesy on our next date, Katheryn," he winks.

I growl in frustration and ball my fists. "Stop being rude to Colin, Trace. This is not funny. We need to talk. Somewhere private. Now."

His presses his lips to keep from smiling. "Yes ma'am." He grabs me by the hand.

"What? No!" Colin catches my other arm. I hiss in surprise; he's squeezing my arm harder than I realized he even could. I pull away, but he squeezes tighter.

"Colin!" I squeal. He lightens up immediately, but he doesn't let go.

"Not your call, Col. And you really should take your goddamn hand off Kat. Now," Trace says with a steel in his voice I've never heard. They are both bowing up, edging closer together.

"Hey!" I say sharply. I drop Trace's hand and push Colin, and he lets me go. "What is wrong with both of you? You're acting like cavemen!"

"Yeah, everybody just needs to take it down a notch. There's plenty of Kat to go around," Leed jokes.

Trace tags Leed in the shoulder—hard. "Shut.The.Fuck.Up.Leed."

Trace turns to me. His eyes are flashing emotion but his hands are pressed together like in prayer, and his voice is very even. "Look, you said you wanted to talk, I'm trying to make that happen. So please tell your overly possessive boyfriend that it's not his lucky night and let's get out—"

Colin punches Trace—one hard hook to the side of the head. Trace's head snaps to the right, and he stumbles over into Leed.

"Trace!" I scream, grasping at him as Leed struggles to push him back up on his feet. Security swarms Colin.

"Are you okay?" My hands are on Trace, trying to turn his head toward me. He grunts and gently pushes my hands away, "Fine," he says tersely. He straightens up and glares at Colin. "Let him go," he says. Security ignores him. "Let him go!" he shouts again. "I can't fucking hit him back if you are holding him!"

"That's kind of the point," one of the guards says.

Leed is pushing Trace back. "Do not hit this guy, Trace. You don't want a lawsuit."

"He hit me first."

"Doesn't matter. They always sue."

"I don't give a fuck."

"Well, I do. Remember when I hit that pap in Boston, and the lawyers had all the witnesses go over and over what happened? If you hit him, I'm going to be stuck in a room all day, giving one of those goddamn...what do you call them?"

"Depositions?" Maddie supplies helpfully. Her mother is a lawyer.

Leed snaps at her, "Exactly. Hey, what's your name, baby?"

I pop Leed on the shoulder. "Shut.The.Fuck.Up.Leed."

Some of Trace's anger bleeds away and he grins at me. "Still a quick learner, I see."

A slight man with obviously-dyed black hair spiking all over his head strides up, takes a quick assessment of the scene, of Colin still standing in the middle of three security guards, of Trace's rapidly bruising cheek, of Leed and me, blocking Trace, "Let me see if I've got it. Little Sister," he points at me, "jealous boyfriend," he points at Colin, "cocky bastard who asked for it," he points at Trace, "and shit-stirrer," he points at Leed.

"Pretty much," Leed says. "Kat, meet Dawes, our manager."

He looks me up and down. I return the favor. He doesn't say a word to me, just turns to Trace. "Are we keeping her?"

Trace's anger seems to be rapidly disappearing, the longer he looks at me. "I hope so."

Dawes turns to me. "Miss Ballard, isn't it? Obviously, your friend who likes to throw punches has to go. Probably time for your other friends to go, too," he nods at Maddie and Laurel. "Will you be joining them or staying? If you stay, I'm afraid it won't be much of an afterparty. Trace has to see a doctor now. Insurance bullshit, you know. But you can keep him company, while he's examined. Then it's back to the hotel."

I'm not going home until I know Trace is ok, and until he and I talk about Ashlynn. I look at Laurel and Maddie and wish I could explain. They look between me and Trace , then at each other and shrug, accepting. I guess in their minds it's simple.

Rockstar trumps Quarterback.

It's not like that for me. Trace is not just a rockstar to me, anymore than Colin is just a football star. Trace is the person that knows the old me best, and Colin is the one that cares about the new me most. I'm not sure the old me exists anymore, but after one night seeing Trace, I don't think the new me is anything but a performance.

Colin is looking at me like he's never seen me before. I think he is starting to get the idea that I might not actually be leaving with him.

"Kat," he says, "I was out of line, and I'm sorry, but this whole thing is a blindside, and what he said —"

"I know," I cut in. Tonight was supposed to be Colin's lucky night, and mine too. And I think we both know that's definitely not happening now. "Colin, none of this is...exactly like you think. But I need to stay."

Colin looks...crushed. He puts a fist in front of his mouth, like he doesn't want to say anything else, but then he says. "Kat, don't do something you will regret, okay? Don't stay because you are mad that I punched him."

I look between Trace and Colin. Trace's face is bruising, but it makes him look bad and vulnerable at the same time. More like the kid I used to know. He grins at me. "Actually, I agree with Colin. Don't stay because of him." He holds out a hand to me, so sure I will take it. He is a cocky bastard, but he's right.

"Kat," Colin pleads. "I'm really sorry."

"I know, Colin," I say quietly. "Me, too, but Trace and I have some things to talk about it. Call you tomorrow."

"Are you serious?" He really can't believe I'm staying.

I can't believe it either, but I can't walk away from Trace. Not tonight.

I don't take Trace's hand. I just walk past him down the hall and he follows silently. After a few paces, he takes my elbow and veers me down some stairs.

"Where are we going?"

"Oh, a really appropriate place. You are going to love it."

What do you think will happen between Kat and Trace next? Is Colin completely out of the picture? Why is Trace so worried about the media digging in his personal life? Hmmm, he sounds like he has something he wants to keep on DL, huh?

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