Taking A Risk Read online

  Copyright © 2013 by Caroline Easton

  All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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  © http://www.dreamstime.com/vukvuk_info'>Branislav

  Taking a Risk

  Caroline Easton

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  The noise was unbearable, pounding away at his ears. The vibrations created by the crowd jumping up and down in excitement throbbed through his entire body. The smell was overpowering, a mixture of sweat, alcohol and euphoria drifted through the air entering his nostrils. The fear rising inside him was now clawing away at his throat. Air; he needed air to stop the black spots that were now swimming freely in front of his eyes, blurring his vision. Pushing his way through the minions who crowded around the rabbit warren that was backstage, he gathered speed fearing his stomach would repel its entire contents before he made it outside. With newly found vigour he pushed heavily on the fire door, grateful when the cold air hit his face. He struggled to breath, hurriedly trying to take in as much air as he could. As the nausea began to subside so did the pounding in his ears, allowing his world to return to focus once more.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he should be lapping up the attention, taking it all in his stride. If he was honest, he could live quite happily if he never set foot on stage again. The nearness of all those people completely freaked him out, stick him in a recording studio and he would sing all day and night, no worries. That was the problem though, the band needed their singer in order to perform, it wasn’t as if they could hire in some session singer to do it for him, and he certainly couldn’t hide away at the back of the stage like Jez, the so called Drumming God, did.

  “Man, you hiding out here in the cold again? Are you shitting me, please god get your act together. We go on in ten minutes Al. Chris is freaking out cos he can’t find you.” Ben, the bands guitarist and his best friend since they were kids, knew he hated touring, but Alex was certain that none of them understood the true depths of his anxiety. “You need a smoke? I got something if you need it to see you through. Did you take those pills the doc gave you?”

  “No, I’ll be fine. I just had to get out of there, that’s all. I’m not taking any crappy chemicals that are supposed to keep me calm, prescribed or otherwise. They just mess with your head.” Alex pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning on for support. “Come on, let’s do this. Give them what they came for.” He threw his heavily tattooed arm over his friend’s shoulder as he spoke. Ben steered them both back inside the building. Heading for the stage where the other guys waited anxiously to perform their ritual pre show huddle. A time old tradition that was supposed to ensure they had a good show.

  The lights were dimmed, leaving the auditorium in complete darkness; the guys took their places on the stage as fifty thousand people chanted their name. The incessant foot stamping built the atmosphere to a deafening crescendo. Jez began knocking out a beat, sending the gathered masses into a frenzied state. As Ben began strumming the first chords the throng quietened, awaiting Alex’s dulcet tones. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes, dipping his chin slightly until he felt the microphone touch his lips. He opened his mouth allowing his gravelly, rasping voice to escape. The noise erupted beyond all recognition as the spotlight settled on Alex’s lone form. Lighting him up for all to see, standing there in his trade mark ripped jeans, heavy boots and tight T-shirt that stretched across his heavily muscled arms. As he progressed through the first verse, the screams settled as they began to sing along with him. He was sure he could get away with just standing there not doing anything, they were more than happy to sing his lyrics for him.

  He closed his eyes again as he ran his hand through his short dark hair, not singing now, instead just listening to them sing his words. His palms were damp and clammy, the sweat pouring out of his every pore making his T-shirt cling to his muscled form. He thanked god the lighting kept him from seeing past the first two rows of people. Acutely aware of the nausea building again, he reached for his bottle of water, downing it in one, hoping to suppress the need to vomit. Christ, he had to get a handle on this; they had another ten songs to get through before he could escape to the safety net of backstage. Regaining his courage, he managed to find his voice enabling him to carry the crowd to the end of the first set. After a quick change of shirt and a shot of tequila they were back out on stage delivering the last few hits to an indebted crowd.

  Ben took the microphone from the stand, “Thank you London, you rocked tonight!” He shouted out to deafening cheer. “It’s always great to play to a home crowd and you have been amazing!” They responded with another deafening eruption. The guitarist laughed loudly as the rest of the band applauded the crowd. “Goodnight people, safe journey home.” Placing the microphone back on the stand, Ben followed the rest of the guys off of the stage surrounded by their security team.

  The band members were flanked by their usual entourage of PA’s, management team and general runners. A couple of the guys bought into the whole celebrity thing, surrounding themselves with loads of hangers on, from people who would fasten their shoes or wipe their backsides if they were asked, to girlfriends, best mates and family members. Alex preferred to keep things simple, his sister acted as his PA, and more often than not she was the only person he kept close by. Chris their manager was forever telling him he needed to enjoy the fame while it lasted, embrace the willingness of the fans who threw themselves at him endlessly. He didn’t agree but it didn’t stop Chris from feeding the reputation the band had. There were always set up photos leaked to the press, photos of him leaving a club or hotel with girls, more often than not they were girls he had never met. They just happened to be leaving at the same time, unfortunate enough to get caught in the photo with him. The girls probably enjoyed the attention the media coverage brought them, some of them even sold made up stories to make a few quid out of his name. Being photographed with the proverbial Alex Carter was, after all, the dog’s bollocks.

  “There’s a meet and greet to get through before you’re done tonight, sorry I tried to get you out of it but I couldn’t. Oh and mum said you haven’t rung her in ages, she said to tell you if you don’t ring in the next two days, she is on the next plane and you’re paying!” Izzie was almost running alongside him just trying to keep up with him but he refused to slow down for her. He needed to distance himself from the stage, find a corner to chill out in. “You look like shit Alex, I wish you would just take those pills the doctor gave you, I’m sure they’d help.”

  Alex didn’t respond to the statement about the tablets, he wasn’t taking them and that was all there was to it. His mum
however was a different matter all together. “I’ll ring her after I’m done here. The last thing I need right now is mum jumping on a fucking plane.” It didn’t matter that it would be after midnight; he could leave a message on the machine, which would appease her for now at least.

  “I’m giving them ten minutes Iz, if they’re not done by then, I’m out of here.” He pushed open the door, standing to the side allowing his sister to enter before him. The rest of the guys were already inside, bottles of beer in hand. Alex held out his hand to catch the beer Ben tossed across the room at him. Twisting the cap off, he gulped down the amber liquid, slaking his thirst before turning his attention to the array of finger food that had been set up along the side of the room. He was always starving when he came off stage, must be something to do with the adrenalin it created. He stood back watching the VIP’s suck up to the rest of the band, praising them on a great show.

  Sitting in the corner were a couple of teenage girls with backstage passes around their necks, parents in tow. Beside them stood Mark, the presenter from the radio station which had run the competition offering the tickets that the girls had won. Alex knew the guy well, he had done the bands first ever radio interviews years ago, they had hit it off, becoming firm friends. Whenever Alex was in town the pair of them would get together. He was sure he and his sister had some kind of thing together a while ago but neither one of them was admitting to that.

  Leaving the security of the food table he made his way over to introduce himself to the two young girls who looked as though they may explode at any minute. “Hey, I’m Alex, nice to meet you. Did you enjoy the show?” Flashing his trademark smile at them, they fell apart. “Whoa, you’re not supposed to cry! I only said hello, come here.” He held out his arms as he waited for the girls to embrace him. “Have you met everyone else? Come on I’ll introduce you.” He winked at the girls mother’s, indicating that they were in safe hands, as he steered them across the room. Ten minutes later he had left the girls getting anything they could get their hands on signed – napkins, paper plates and concert memorabilia - as promised he made his excuses and left with Izzie in tow.

  “How come you can be all ‘Mr Rock Star’ with those girls but you go to pieces every time you have to get on stage? I don’t get it. I thought it was the people that freaked you out.” Izzie sat beside him in the limo, tapping out emails on her Blackberry, the girl could run an entire empire from that thing.

  “Don’t call me that Iz, I hate it.” He scowled at his sister. “I can handle them a couple at a time, it’s when there are loads of them all screaming my name. They all want a piece of me, you’ve seen them for Christ’s sake, they rip the clothes from my back, throw stuff at me. It’s relentless.” He cracked open a bottle of water as he watched her work.

  “I don’t know why you do it if you hate it that much. You don’t have to tour. Why put yourself through the torture?” Her eyes never left the screen of her phone as she spoke. She knew he loved to sing, he had been performing since he was tiny but these last few years things had escalated beyond everyone’s wildest dreams. They could no longer go out in public without being recognised or mobbed by swarms of screaming fans. He missed being able to go to the pub for a quiet beer with his mates.

  “It’s not that simple is it? There’s not just me to think about, I have to think about the other guys too. Although, lately I’ve been thinking about taking a break. There are only a few dates left to play, then I might take six months off. Lie low for a bit; spend some time at home with mum and dad even.” He glanced at his sister tentatively; if he took time off it meant she had to too, without him working she didn’t really have a job.

  “God, you must be really feeling it if you’re even contemplating spending time at home! You only ever go back under threat of death.” She laughed at his shocked expression. “Don’t look at me like that! You know I have to bribe you to call them, never mind visit. Seriously though, if you need a break, take one. There is nothing in your contract that states you can’t as long as all your commitments are honoured. I’ll check the diary but I am pretty sure there is nothing I can’t figure out in there. You have all scheduled in two months down time for the band after the tour anyway, so what’s a few more weeks gonna matter?” He didn’t know what he would do without her, right from the word go she had made sure she was on top of her game. It had been the best decision he had made employing her when she finished Uni. She took care of everything for him, from booking his dental appointments to liaising with his legal team. She had even started to oversee his accounts now too. He didn’t have to worry about anything, he could just get on and do the one thing he loved, sing.

  “I’ll run it by the others tomorrow maybe, see how they feel.” He leant his head back against the seat, closing his eyes as they finished the journey back to the hotel.

  Izzie shook him gently. “Alex, we’re here.” He had learnt to fall asleep at the drop of hat, anywhere, anytime – touring meant very little down time with less than regular hours, you had to sleep when the opportunity arose or you didn’t sleep at all. He opened his eyes taking in the dark surroundings of the underground garage; he was disorientated for a moment. Rubbing his hands over his face he grabbed his jacket before exiting the car. Izzie put her arm around his waist snuggling in close to keep warm as he slipped her bag from her shoulder to carry for her. “I’m worried about you. You don’t look like you’re having fun anymore.” She squeezed him tightly.

  “Don’t worry. I’m fine, anyway I’m your big brother, aren’t I supposed to worry about you?” He kissed the top of her head as he rubbed her bare arm. “Come on, there’s hot chocolate in my room. You’re freezing.”

  So much for his rock star image, the press would have a field day with that one, ‘Exclusive: Tattooed Rock Star Drinks Hot Chocolate’. He chuckled to himself as he imagined the headline. They sensationalised everything he did, taking out the rubbish bin was even worthy of the front page on a slow day.

  Chapter 2

  Sitting in the lounge of his suite waiting for breakfast to be delivered, he contemplated what his options were. He almost didn’t go on last night; he was so close to walking away, heading out of the car park and not stopping until he ran out of steam. The fear was getting worse instead of better, he had been down the whole ‘hippie’ route, hypnotherapy, counselling, you name it and he had probably given it a go. He would give anything to get back to how he used to be before it all got so crazy.

  In the early days he had embraced the attention, he thrived on performing. They would rehearse every night in either his or Ben’s garage, preparing for their regular weekend slots at several of the local bars. It was more enjoyable then, so much more containable. For a good few years the largest crowd they played to would have been two hundred people max at weddings and similar events, these days the numbers ran into thousands.

  They had built up a dedicated following, the same faces would show up at the different venues they played. The same fans still followed them to this day, remaining faithful to them; he would spot the familiar people some nights at the stage door as they left. The guys always made sure they spared those people time, spent a few minutes signing all the paraphernalia that would get thrust under their noses.

  He was kidding himself if he thought he could do another year of this. The mass hysteria that surrounded them was frightening. No, he needed a break; he needed to talk to Ben. He would listen, but more importantly he would know how best to approach the others without them flipping out. He had a management meeting at three this afternoon then they would be shipped off to the venue to get ready for the gig. He would catch Ben then, test the water.

  “What do you mean by ‘break’ exactly? Are we talking a couple of weeks, months or something more permanent? I mean, I know how much this shit gets to you but this is what we worked our arse’s off for Alex, global domination right?” Ben eyed him suspiciously as he strummed out some random chords on his prized cherry red guitar. He knew Alex was
keeping something back but he wasn’t going to be the one to call him on it.

  “I dunno really, couple of months. I just need to get the feeling back you know? I hate touring, I’d be happy if we just did the TV and radio stuff, kept releasing new material. But these massive arenas...it’s just not for me.” Alex shrugged, concentrating on trying to peel the label off of his water bottle in one piece.

  “So it’s more of a split than a break...shit. Man, you have to talk to the others. I mean are you sure? It’s what we dreamed about Alex, me and you together all those years ago.”

  Alex panicked; he didn’t want to split the band, just time away from everything. “No! Not a split but why can’t we just all do our own thing for awhile, other bands do it. I just wanna disappear for a few months, have some sort of normality. Does this shit not freak you out at all?”

  Ben looked puzzled, nothing fazed him, and if he was being honest he loved all the attention being in the limelight brought with it. The girls’ throwing themselves at them was a real bonus. Sure, Alex had taken advantage a few times, it was hard not to when they turned up in your closet or hid in your bathroom naked and willing but it had become boring very quickly. They didn’t want Alex; they wanted sex with the persona, a story to tell the media, it was a very lonely existence. He was tired of it all.

  “Look, we need to talk to everyone else. You can’t carry on if you feel that bad but just do me a favour, think about it. There are only a handful of dates left to play, and then we have a few weeks downtime before we’re due back in the studio. See how you feel then, you might feel differently once we start recording again.” Ben returned to concentrating on his guitar, humming softly as he played. Alex wasn’t so sure he would feel anything other than the sheer desperation to get out.

  Izzie had been listening in to their conversation; she wasn’t the only one who worried about her brother. After the message he left on his parents answer machine she’d had one very stressed out mother to deal with. She had to talk her down from the ensuing hysteria, promise her that she would get her brother to step back a little, take a vacation but more importantly she promised to get him home for a few days. Why it had become her job to sort out his whole life recently she had no idea – work, yes but everyone seemed to expect him to sort out his personal life too, tell Izzie, he listens to her, Izzie will make him come home, Izzie can fix it. Everyone seemed to have forgotten it was her family too. She really needed to talk to him about the job soon but right now she was in sister mode and needed to get her brother home.