The Show

We go to his dressing room so he can change into his stage clothes. I've never been backstage so I've never been in a dressing room before. It's nothing fancy, but it does have a shower so he can wash off the sweat he'll work up during the show.

He strips off his jeans and his shirt and hangs them up in the closet. He puts on a brown suit with a maroon shirt which suits him rather nicely. He looks handsome, dapper until I notice that he's misbuttoned a shirt button.

"Come here," I tell him and start to unbutton his shirt.

"Can't wait to tear my clothes off, huh?" he teases and I tell him to hush.

I have to undo most of his buttons, but get them straightened out. I leave the first two undone and fold the shirt collar over his jacket, then step back to admire my handiwork.

"You look good, you're going to have the women in the audience swooning if women still do that sort of thing. You know, I've never seen you perform before, outside of the studio, this is going to be a real treat."

He picked up his bass and put his arm around my shoulders. "Come on, we've got to go. Ben is going to look out for you. There's a place where the VIP's watch the concert and that's where you'll be. We'll play a ninety-minute set and two encores, then Ben will take you backstage to join me."

"My personal bodyguard, huh?"

"I guess you could say that. People always think that concerts are a lot more organized than they are, it's more like organized chaos."

Ben showed me to a spot where Rick could look down and see me. Unfortunately, the little blond groupie was standing there too. I don't know who she charmed, fucked, or sucked to get there. All I wanted was for her to stay out of my way and not make goo-goo eyes at Rick.

The house lights were darkened, then a man came on stage and announced into the microphone, "Ladies and Gentlemen, The Band!"

The auditorium burst into applause and yells, then the band began to play. I was so close I could feel the music as much as I could hear it. The Dallas audience clapped and stomped their cowboy boots in time to the rhythm and the mood was so infectious I was clapping and stomping my little high heels along with them.

After they finished their first number they took a bow, the first of many. Rick looked down and smiled at me, a smile that was meant only for me. When someone threw roses on the stage, he picked up a couple and threw them to me and winked.

The little blond groupie glared at me.

I could feel the energy coming from the audience. Rick had told me about this, about how the audience put out this energy that the performers quite literally feel. I hadn't believed it because I never experienced it, but I could tell by the way their playing changed that it was real. Their moods seemed to rise, they bantered amongst themselves. Rick told his bad jokes, making the audience laugh.

What was happening was magic and I could not believe how quickly time flew, even with the two encores. As the audience clapped and yelled, demanding another encore, Ben came to get me.

"He wants you backstage now. He's going to shower and change then as soon as he can make his exit, we'll head to the party. Come on, he's waiting for you."

I looked at the little groupie, no one was paying any attention to her, and I hoped I would not see her at the party.

Rick held out his arm when he saw me and nestled me into him. "So, how did you like the concert, babe? I see you still have the roses."

"One of the best I've ever seen," I answered truthfully. Not the best, that honor belonged to the Stones, but this one had an infectious spirit the Stones concerts I'd seen hadn't had. Well, maybe that wasn't the truth but these were different musicians playing a different kind of music. They'd seemed closer to the crowd somehow.

"Come on," he said, I need a shower and I want to get out of these clothes." We wended our way through the backstage crowd, him shaking hands to avoid conversation when he could and divert people's attention from me.

While he showered, I placed his suit and shirt in the bag, buttoning everything and smoothing it down. It needed to be dry cleaned and the shirt laundered before he wore it again. I tried to remember if there was another garment bag he'd brought with him.

He came out of the shower, naked, drying and shaking his hair and I tried not to laugh at the wicked grin he had on his face.

"How about it, babe," he said but I shook my head.

"Later, I don't want to come out of here looking freshly fucked, and there seems to be some people here hoping to see just that."

"Wait until we get to the party, I can't help it but there will be people staring at you, wondering who you are. Most of them will write you off as a groupie, but don't let it bother you." He looked at me critically, "I'm afraid you're going to get hit on, but unless they're rude just brush them off as politely as possible. I'll try not to leave you alone, but I might get sidetracked. You can always go to Levon for help if things get too out of hand. You're going to be one of the prettiest girls there, and pretty girls get hit on."

"Yeah, right," I said as he got dressed and combed his wet hair, "That little blond is a lot prettier than me."

"Fuck that, he said, "You have something that she doesn't—class," and we made our escape to the limo where Levon was sitting with the blond in question.

I felt twinges of jealousy seeing her, even though she wasn't flirting with Rick--at the moment. Serves you right, I thought, but remember, you have a lot more class than she does—and Levon is not in love with her.

Rick sees me look at her and does something unexpected, he pulls me onto his lap, then says, "Hey Levon, what do they have to drink in here, or do we have to wait till we get to the party."

"I have something better," Levon says in his thick southern accent and pulls a little silver vial out of his pocket. "Ladies first," he says to Blondie and puts it under her nose. She inhales twice, once for each nostril then hands it to me. I do so reluctantly, if I'm going to a party I'm not prepared for I may as well. Rick takes it next then hands it back to Levon.

By the time we're done assaulting our noses, we've reached the hotel where the party's being held. Rick shields me with his hand as we enter to the sound of clicking shutters.

"Damn photographers, it would be nice if they'd leave us alone. It's one thing if I'm with my wife, but I don't want you to be harassed. If anyone at the party asks about you tonight, tell them you and I are old friends. I promise I'll be with you as much as I can, I won't leave you on your own if I can help it. There are a lot of nice people here, just forget about the jerks. Some people will do anything to have a story and they won't care if it's true or not."

I hold my head up as we enter, and smile. Everyone from the show is here, even the roadies, which I think is nice. I meet the members of the other two groups that played and receive a whispered proposition or two which makes me giggle.

Rick's as good as his word and keeps a protective arm around me. The coke has loosened me up and it's not so hard for me to talk to strangers. When they feel safe and not caught off their guard most musicians are nice people, at least the ones I've met at the studios. You expect stars to have these egos but I've found that's not the case. It's the wanna-be's who are the jerks because they know they're pretending to be what they're not.

"Hey, I see someone I want to go talk to, will you be all right if I leave you alone for five minutes?" he whispers in my ear. I look at him, panicked, and he pats me on the back. "Go to the bar and get yourself a drink. I haven't seen anyone staring at us so it'll be all right." He kisses me and walks into the crowd.

He's wrong about no one looking at us. I've caught a few hostile stares that must be because I'm here with him and I'm not his wife. The stares from the groupies I can pretty much deal with. I don't like them, they whore themselves for free so they can say they fucked a certain rock star like they're collecting them.

One guy who's been staring and who I've been trying to ignore leaves the group of people he's talking to and comes over to me and introduces himself in a British accent. I don't remember his name, I'm concentrating on trying to convince him to leave.

"You're not his wife, are you? Just who are you then and why are you with him?"

Nigel, I think he said his name was Nigel. "I'm a friend of his, we've known each other for a long time. I've just been through..."

My prayers are answered as Rick appears by my side. "Go interview someone else, Nigel, and leave my friend alone. She's had to deal with enough without being harassed by you." Rick takes my arm and steers me away. "I'm sorry about that, I should have realized he or someone like him would be here."

"People have been staring at us ever since we got here. Why didn't he just assume I was another groupie and leave me alone?"

"Because you don't look or act like one. I don't think any picture taken tonight will make it to print. You're not the first girl I've brought with me who's not my wife."

"Thank you for telling me that, like I really want to hear it. I don't want to hear about your other girls, I don't want to hear about your wife! This was supposed to be about us. We have something special but it's fragile, do you know what I'm saying? And I swear that someone said something to him before he came over to ask me questions."

"I'm sorry babe, I didn't expect this to happen, " he's trying to soothe me, "It's getting late, do you want to go back to the hotel?" He was trying to appease me and I appreciate it. "We've got a gig in San Antonio tomorrow. After we get there I'll have to put you on a plane back to LA, then I won't see you for another month. I think I'd like to spend a little more time with you alone--tonight."

I nodded, I'd been fine up until Nigel had tried to talk to me, but now the party wasn't fun anymore. I had been starting to enjoy myself but once that fucking Englishman got in my face it had spoiled things for me. I wondered if this was the only time this was going to happen.

"Let's go find Levon and tell him we're leaving. We'll send the limo back here once he drops us off. Levon probably won't want to leave until about six."

"Which is when you'd planned to leave, I know. I had every intention of staying with you until you wanted to leave but I'm feeling bummed out. Why did that jerk have to talk to me in the first place?"

"He was just making trouble, sweetheart, that's his specialty. He writes articles for the British tabloid press. His specialty is telling lies. I'd have hit him but I didn't want to cause a scene. Now let's find Levon and tell him what we're doing. I'm going to take you back to the hotel and make love to you until you forget what happened. I don't want that jerk to spoil our last night together."