[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
“So it all blew over?”

“Yeah, Rafe.  I don’t know what Nick said to her, but he didn’t seem mad, and neither did she.  It all seemed to work out okay.  And the hotel laid on extra security, so no girls got through the door.  There was a small crowd outside, but they left when they realized they weren’t getting anywhere.”

“Does he still think she’s gay?”

Tom rolled his eyes.  He knew who was going to lose his head when that particular excrement hit the fan.  “Yes, I think so.” 

Tom wasn’t sure about that.  Nick had stopped making the stupid comments, but Tom wasn’t sure if Nick had figured out that it wasn’t true, or if he’d just gotten comfortable with the idea, gotten politically correct all of a sudden.  But Rafe didn’t need to know any of that.

“Okay, good.  Everyone’s getting along, that’s good.”

Tom laughed.  “Well, Tofu has a tendency to say ‘henceforth’ every time Toby comes anywhere near him, but other than that, everything is cool.”

“Now what about this Internet crap?”

“Well, you’d know more about that than me.  I’m not near a computer.  Gus and Toby do that.  It’s like we figured.  The girl in the video looks like Mel.  You think the fans weren’t going to figure that out?  And when they sing Alias Me…”

“Yeah,” said Rafe.  He quoted from one of the message boards.  “’They look like they’re swimming in each other’s eyes.’  What the hell is that all about?”

“It’s just the music,” said Tom, for the hundredth time.  He could never explain it to Rafe.  Rafe didn’t get the music part. 

“Well, anyway, you’re in Barcelona now.  And then on to Rome.”

“Yes.  We just got in from the airport.  There are no interviews scheduled until late this afternoon, after the sound check, then the performance…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Gus, I need your help.”

“Yeah, Mel.  What can I do for you?”

“I need someone who speaks Spanish.  Can you spare me a couple of hours?”

”Sure Mel.  That’s what I’m here for.”  He lowered his voice to a whisper.  “And Toby will be so pleased!”

Melody opened her mouth to say to suggest what Toby could do with himself but thought better of it.  “Yes, I’m sure he will,” was all she said.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Tofu!”

“Yeah, Nick.  What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you had some time this morning.  I’ve got an errand to do, and I need someone that speaks Spanish.”

“Cool!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello?”

“Can you talk now?”

“Yeah, hi Rafe!”

“So, what’s up?  Anything I should know about?”

“Well, let’s see.  Barcelona was good.  Good crowd.  It really rocked.”

“I don’t pay you to give concert reviews.  Get to the rest of it.  Is everyone getting along?  Is there anything I need to know?”

“Well…”

Rafe listened for a few minutes to his undercover man, his ace-in-the-hole, his secret agent.  Nothing much new.  Everyone was getting along, it seemed.  Nick was starting to look a little worn out.  Oh yeah, and…

“She WHAT!!!???”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You WHAT!!!???”

“Settle down, Mart.  It was long overdue.  I was getting a little old for the punk Goth look anyway, don’t you think?”

”Yeah, but to dye your hair…and in a foreign country?!”

“They have competent hairdressers in Spain, you know!  And Gus was there to help me explain what I wanted.”

“So what did you get?”

Melody looked in the hotel mirror.  She still didn’t recognize the person who looked back at her.  Who was this person with, she smiled to herself, caramel hair?

“Car-a-mel,” said Mel, in a Spanish accent, separating the syllables into three separate words and putting the stress on the third one.  “Car-a-MEL!” she sang.

“Cara…what?”

“Caramel,” Mel repeated.  “It was actually kind of funny.  Gus was telling the hairdresser what I wanted, and the guy was showing me color samples…holding the bits of hair up to my face… I picked one and Orlando…that’s the hairdresser…gayer than gay…he was so light on his feet, I thought he’d float away…anyway, he says, ‘caramel’.  Gus says to me, ‘is that okay, Mel?’, and Orlando says, ‘caramel’, and Gus says, ‘okay, Mel?’  I nearly peed myself laughing.”

Mart laughed.  “And doesn’t ‘cara’ mean sweet or something like that in Spanish?”

“Yes, it means ‘dear’.  Gus did this whole thing on my name and how it must be the perfect color…ordained…blah, blah, blah…”

“So caramel…I’m picturing brown…with a hint of reddy-blond.”

“Yes, exactly!  Darker than butterscotch.  Lighter than chestnut.  Oh, and I got highlights, too!  Just three little blonde strips.  You can hardly notice them.”  Mel looked in the mirror and fluffed her hair with her fingers.

“What did Nick think?” asked Mart.

Good question, thought Mel.  What did Nick think? 

She and Gus had lunch out in a lovely little café after the big hair adventure.  They had a great time discussing the tour, talking about the passers-by, sharing childhood stories...although Mel thought she had done a lot more sharing than Gus.

They went straight to the venue from the café.  Gus checked in with Toby twice by phone but would only tell him that he and Mel were 'shopping'.  No way was Toby stealing Gus' thunder on this one!
When they arrived at the hall, the Palau Sant Jordi, Mel got suddenly nervous.  Gus took her hand and squeezed it.  “Listen to me, Melody Jones.  You look wonderful.  You look different, that’s for damn sure, but you look wonderful.  So don’t interpret looks of surprise as looks of…”

“Dismay?  Horror?”

“Exactly, Cara-Mel.  You look wonderful.”  Gus kissed her on the forehead for luck and then pulled her into the stage area.  “Look who’s here,” he called out.  He put a hand in the small of her back and pushed her firmly forward.

Tofu was the first to notice her.  “Omigod!”   

Melody looked at them all.  Blaine’s mouth hung open.  Rashad cocked his head to one side and stared at her, trying to figure out who she was, she guessed.  Scott and Nick looked up from where they were conferring at the soundboard.  They simply stared.  Toby stood frozen in the doorway, a bottle of water in each hand, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.  Jeff gaped at her from the front row of seats.

Tom’s eyes bugged out of his head.  Rafe was going to shit!

“Hi, guys!” said Melody, weakly.

Tofu leapt off the stage and ran up to her.  “I love it!” he yelled. 

Mel’s forehead was covered with soft, feathery bangs.  The top was smoother…no more spikes.  “Turn,” Tofu commanded.  Mel did.  “Shake your head,” he said, and when she obeyed, the light bounced off the highlights and made her glow.

Slowly, the tableau dissolved.  The men all shook their heads to clear them, telling their brain to rreconfigure their mental picture of Mel to this new look.  Then they all made cooing sounds of approval.  Looks great.  Nice color.  But she couldn’t really tell what they thought.  Hell, she didn’t know what she thought about it yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He likes it,” said Mel.

“That’s good,” said Mart.

“Well, either that or he’s the most well-mannered kid on the planet.” 

Melody told Mart more about the rehearsal.  They started doing the sound checks and walking through it.  They didn’t sing every song at every rehearsal.  They did a little bit of this and a little bit of that when they were checking the mikes and equipment, just so they wouldn’t get bored.  Then they would pick a song or two and run through them completely. 

Nick always let the others choose the songs.  He’d say, “Pick one, Rashad.”  Or “What should we do, Blaine?”  Everyone got a turn to pick.  Even Scott and Toby.  Even the stage crew.  Nick would yell out a name.  “Hey, Jake!  What should we do?”  And Jake would yell back a title.  Today he asked Tom.  And Tom said, “Alias Me.”  Which surprised everyone because Tom never asked for that song. 

Tom wasn’t the slightest bit interested in hearing the song.  He heard it in his sleep, for God’s sake.  What he wanted to see was the interaction between Nick and Mel.  He wanted that out of the way before it was on a stage in front of twenty thousand girls, all making a report for the Internet press!

They sang the song.  Tom thought the girl on the Internet was right.  They were swimming in each other’s eyes.  At the end of it, Nick didn’t turn away from Mel for his final ‘alias me’.  He sang it right to her.  Then he put his fingers up to her face and stroked her bangs lightly. 

“I like it,” he whispered.  “It’s pretty.”

Melody blushed and ducked her head.  “Thanks, Boss,” she said, nervously tugging on her bottom lip with her teeth.

Nick turned away.  “Okay, what’s next?  Jake!  Give us one!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He said it looked pretty,” said Mel. 

Mart closed her eyes and shook her head at the tone of her friend’s voice. 

“And guess what?” Mel continued.  “I’m not the only one who had a surprise today.”

“What?  Don’t tell me.  Nick’s gone for the jet black, spiky look.”

Melody laughed.  “Oh, that would have been too funny!  No, he got something else.”

When they finished the sound checks, Nick had some interviews scheduled.  There were reporters there from three separate media outlets. Tom was trying to hurry him along, kept looking at his watch.  But Nick had something he wanted to do first.

“Hey, Mel.  Come here.  I want to show you something.  I went shopping today.  I got myself a little something.”

“C’mon, Nick,” said Tom.  “Show her later.  They’re waiting.”

Nick ignored him.  “It’s in my dressing room.”  He cocked his head in that direction.

“I helped him,” said Tofu.  “I speek dee Spaneesh for heem.”

Mel followed Nick off the stage and down the hall to his dressing room. 

“Close your eyes,” said Nick.  He took her by the hand and led her into the room.  She heard him rustling around.  “Okay, open them.”

“Oh, Nick!!  It’s beautiful!!”

In his hands, Nick held a guitar, a beautiful six-string acoustic guitar, made out of a dark rosewood, with a very Spanish-looking rosette design etched into the neck by the tuning keys and also around the soundhole. 

“Luthier?” she asked.

“Yes,” he nodded.  “James Olson.”

Mel ran her hand over it lightly over the mahogany neck.  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

They both knew what was the real beauty of a guitar. 

“Play it,” Nick said.

Melody took the guitar from him, gently, as if he were handing her a baby.  She ran her fingers down the strings, turned one of keys a fraction of an inch and then began plucking at the strings.  She played a few bars – not even a song, just a warm up exercise that would tell her everything she needed to know about the guitar. 

“Awesome,” she said, handing the guitar back to him.

“Teach me,” said Nick.