American Love Songs (18 page)

“Maybe theres nothing to tell,” Jimmy put in, contributing for the first time as he flipped through a mangled publication on restoring vintage motorcycles.

“Maybe its none of our business,” Jake said at last, sitting beside Chris. “If theres something to tell, hell tell us when hes ready. If not, then it doesnt matter.”

The door to the sound booth finally opened, and Parker and Sierra came shooting out like popcorn. “Did you hear that?” Sierra whooped, high-fiving Jimmy and throwing herself down in the chair next to him. “We fucking
owned
that last take. Pardon my French.”

Parker was slightly, though not significantly, calmer about it, though Jake had actually only ever seen him bouncing on the balls of his feet once before. “Its really good, isnt it?” He sounded like he didnt quite believe his own musical prowess.

“Top ten for sure, genius,” Jake said with a smile, stretching out one long leg to kick his foot. “Nicely done.”

“So when are we shooting the music video?” Sierra wanted to know, apparently addressing her question to Jimmy, whom she was prodding with one tiny finger.

“Once the song is mixed and somebody pitches an idea we dont hate,” Jimmy grumbled back, putting his magazine aside. “So far they all suck.”

“Well, they havent had the final product to work with,” Jake pointed out. Maybe with a little more feeling to work with, someone would finally come up with a video that conveyed the kind of emotion they were trying to evoke.

³⁶
Chris loved Cosmo.
“I dont know how theyre missing it.” Chris shook his head, looking at Jake. “I mean, its kind of obvious, right?”

Jake shrugged helplessly, because he didnt get it, either. Then again, hed had a huge crush on his best friend for years, so he had plenty of experience with exactly the type of situation the song lamented. “Well, they cant possibly miss it now. Yall damn near brought tears to my eyes.” He stretched from head to toe, feeling the chill of air on his stomach as his shirt rode up. “Okay, now that business is taken care of—show me the sights!”

“The sights?” Sierra repeated, her tone unmistakably amused. “You havent been to New York before or something? Im pretty sure Parker dropped me an e-mail the last time you buzzed through.”

“Yeah, but Parkers tour was totally lame,” Chris said, discarding his magazine as well. “It was all Empire State Building this, Yankee Stadium that.”

Jake nodded in agreement. “Exactly. I want the full-on, juicy, native-to-New-York tour. Show me where to eat, where you got jumped the first time, the club Parker got kicked out of on his twentyfirst birthday—your sister, dude,” he explained, off Parkers surprised expression. “She ratted you out. I want to see the shitty neighborhood you lived in in college, the best cheap live entertainment—”

“And maybe the naked cowboy?” Chris threw in, smirking. “Asshat.”

“Well, we all know the naked cowboy
is
the best cheap live entertainment.” Sierra gave them a wide smile and slithered to her feet. “But yeah, we can do that, cant we, Parker? Itll be fun.”

“I hate New York,” Parker answered, but there was no heat in his voice, and he was hiding his face in his hands, so he was obviously more embarrassed than angry.

Par for the course for Parker, really.

“Excellent,” Jake exclaimed, clapping his hands together and making rapid hand motions toward the door. “When do we leave?”
T
HE whole entourage was pulled over at a rest stop on the highway for lunch before the long stretch of road that would bring them to Denver, and everyone was taking the time to stretch their legs a little. Chris and Parker were chasing each other around the parking lot—Jake thought one of them had given the other a wet willy while he was taking a nap, but he wasnt sure—and Jimmy was sprawled out on top of a filthylooking picnic table, soaking up the moderate sunshine.

It was Jake and Allannas turn to venture inside and pick up food for everyone, and they were standing in line at Wendys with a list and a wad of cash when the guy in front of them got his food and Allanna turned an interesting shade of puce. “I have to go,” she said desperately, shoving the list at Jake before sprinting off in the direction of the restrooms.

Jake stared after her until the teenager manning the till called for him for the third time, then shook it off and pasted on a smile. He handed over his list of orders, added a ginger ale, and signed an autograph on a paper bag when she asked. Then, laden with a truly horrifying amount of food, he ventured outside to pass it around.

“Wheres Allanna?” Chris asked when Jake handed over the cholesterol.

 

“Bathroom,” Jake said succinctly. “I think she picked up a flu bug in Chicago.”

 

Chris wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

 

Nodding in agreement, Jake lifted the can of ginger ale. “Yeah. Imma go see if shes okay.”

Jimmy lifted his head from the picnic table but otherwise didnt move, and Jake was back inside with his burger and the can of ginger ale before he even knew what he was going to say.

One of the perks of being a semi-known celebrity was that he could walk into the ladies bathroom if he damn well pleased. He only went in as far as the little entryway, though, calling out into the surprisingly clean tiled room, “Allanna? I brought you a drink. Are you in here?”

“Handicapped stall,” came the miserable voice, and he took that as his cue to enter. It didnt look like there was anyone else in there, anyway.

The door wasnt locked, so Jake opened it and sat on the floor opposite Allanna. She sat slumped against the wall, one arm resting on what was undoubtedly a very germ-laden toilet seat, and there were tear tracks on her face. Her normally perfect auburn bob was plastered to her face with sweat, there were circles under her eyes, and she looked like she was going to barf again.

Jake handed her the ginger ale. “How far along are you?”

Allanna flinched but didnt bother denying it. “About fourteen weeks, I guess.” She swiped a hand across her wet face, smearing her mascara.

Jake thought,
Christ
. He was really tempted to bang his head against the wall, but that was so not what Allanna needed right now. “When did you find out?”

“After Daytona Beach.”

Jake thought back. Daytona had been kind of crazy, between dragging Jimmy and Chris away from the beach bums all the time and trying to get back into the rhythm of being on tour.

Oh, hell. Jake counted back fourteen weeks. Fuck. “Chris?” He hated himself for asking, he really did, but what the hell else could he do? This shit was important.

The way Allanna said nothing at all said everything that needed to be said. Jake swore, because Chris was an asshole and a douchebag, and in this case he didnt even
know
he was an asshole and a douchebag, and it was going to be really fucking difficult not to call him on it, because Jake was not exactly a poster person for subtlety. This, however, was so not his tale to tell. “You gonna clue him in anytime soon?”

“Tours done in a couple months,” she pointed out, shifting her legs like she was getting ready to stand up. “He doesnt ever need to know.”

“I hate to tell you this, but the baby bump is eventually going to be too big to hide.” Soon, in fact. Long before the tour was over.

“Ill fudge the due date,” Allanna said fiercely. “Okay? This is my decision, and Im not telling him. His part in this babys life is over.”

Jesus. Jake ran a hand through his hair. He knew what that kind of determination meant. Fucking
Chris
. Typical. “Okay,” Jake said at last, exhaling slowly. “If thats what you want, he wont hear it from me.”

“Thanks, Jake.”

He leaned back until his head thumped against the flimsy stall divider and wondered what the hell he just got himself into. “Dont mention it.”

T
HEYshot the video for “Closer” midweek between concert dates, because until
Rent
was finished, that was about as long as they were going to get Sierra for at a time, and the show was doing well. The whole thing was kind of last-minute—they put the final approval on an idea spun by one of Mikes lackeys via e-mail, and two days later they were on a plane back to New York, leaving the tour bus and all the road crew to drag most of their stuff to the next concert venue, where they would meet up with them later.

The music video thing was still a mystery to Jake. He mostly just sat still in Macys chair, followed directions, played his guitar as he normally would even though he knew damn well the sound wasnt being recorded, and felt like a giant boob. But then somehow some A/V club geek
³⁷
took the footage and made him look
cool
. Thank God no one seemed to expect him to act.

Jake was used to a half-dozen sets at least—usually somewhere outdoors, a mock concert stage, a big white room that was supposed to be post-modern or something. “Closer” had three.

“This is so cool,” Sierra said from the makeup chair next to his. She was apparently unfazed by the fact that one of Macys myriad of assistants was using two-sided tape to make sure her cute little girlnext-door top didnt fall victim to a wardrobe malfunction. “Tell me everything.”

³⁷
I use the term with love.—JB

Jake said, “Uh.” Macy yanked unapologetically at a hank of his hair and took to straightening it viciously, and he winced. “Have you read the script?”

She picked up a handful of pages from the counter top— amazingly without flashing any skin or traumatizing Kevin, the kid who was taping her up—and waved them at him. “Sure, but I mean, its not like I have any lines.”

Jake stared. “You do
musicals
. You should know how this works!”

 

“Yeah, but this ones going to be on television!”

 

Just then, Macy gave another firm tug. “Ow!” Jake jerked his head out of her grasp and glared. “Are you done?”

She flicked him on the back of the head. “Youre such a baby. Yes, Im finished. Go play with your friend, but do
not
mess up your hair, or there will be hell to pay.”

Kevin had finished taping Sierra up in the meantime, so she sprang out of her chair and followed after him. “Where are we going?”

“Wardrobe first,” Jake explained. “When shooting starts, it might be most efficient to get Chris, Jimmy, and I on one set while you and Parker shoot your scenes, so I have to be ready, and that means—”

“Oh, good, just the man I was looking for.” A PA stepped out of wardrobe with his arms full of what Jake least wanted to see. “Put these on now or theyll get wrinkled.”

Jake took the proffered jacket and tie resignedly, flinging the tie over Sierras shoulder while he shrugged into the jacket. “This is the only part of the artistic vision I disagree with.”

“A gay guy who doesnt like to dress up?”
“Do you know how hot it is under those spotlights?” Sierra raised an eyebrow.

“Right, stupid question.” He sighed and reached for the tie, fumbling it around his neck awkwardly a few times. How did the stupid thing go? Under, around, through…? Damn it, why couldnt they just have given him a clip-on?

“Here, let me.” Sierra batted his hands away and unknotted Jakes handiwork. “Shouldnt Parker be doing this?”

 

Jake watched her, trying to memorize the motions, but she was too quick. “Why would Parker be tying my tie?”

Her eyes flicked up at him briefly. “Youve never seen him do a Windsor knot, have you?” She pulled the tie through and straightened it. It was perfect. “We used to have to dress up for school performances. We learned fast.” She brushed her hands across the fabric of his shirt as well, ensuring it hung straight.

“Sounds glamorous.”
“It was mostly a lot of sucking up to people with money.” Jake grinned. “You shouldve done a bachelor auction.”

She giggled. “God, can you imagine?” Then she gave him a little shove. “Okay, so youre ready to go. Now what?”

 

“Now we see if the set dressers are done in Parkers faux apartment, I guess. Come on, this way.”

As it turned out, they were right on time for Sierra to be scooped up by the director, who wanted to go over her scenes, such as they were. Jake turned around hoping to escape but ran into Parker instead.

Apparently Parkers wardrobe consisted of pajama pants and a dorky T-shirt. That wasnt even fair. “Next time
I
write a song,
you’re
wearing the suit,” Jake grumbled. “You want me to take those?” he asked, referring to his glasses.

“Nah, Brian thinks it works better with them on,” Parker said.

“Fair enough.” As far as Jake could piece together from the script, Parker played himself, and Sierra played the girl he fell in love with at a bus stop who later moved in next door and tormented him by having a string of loud one-night stands with men who werent him. Jake, Chris and Jimmy were slated to play Sierras string of disposable lust objects. Right now, with the glasses and the bare feet and the plaid flannel pants, Parker was definitely the quintessential boy next door. “You ready?”

“As Ill ever be.” Brian waved Parker over to where he was standing with Sierra, and Jake guessed that was his cue to get out of the way.

“Cameras in five!”

Jake spotted Allanna in a directors chair behind one of the cameras. There was an empty seat beside her, so he headed over and dropped himself into it. “Shouldnt you be supervising the roadies or something?” He lowered his voice a little and leaned over. “Also, that sweatshirt youre wearing is not subtle.” After all, it was the middle of summer.

He expected a glare, but Allanna just made an unhappy face. “I asked Mike to send someone to replace me for a couple days.” “You coming clean?”

 

She picked at a hole in the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “If you want to call it that.”

Jake let out a long breath. “Good luck with that.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Quiet on the set!”

At some point during their short conversation, Chris had arrived on set. He was standing over with Parker, Brian, and Sierra, in his full “costume.” Of course, Chriss part called for clubwear; Jake was the only one stuck in a monkey suit.

“Marks!”

 

One of the sound techs cued up the track for reference, though it would be edited out later and synched up with a higher-quality version.