Do You Love Me

I looked at Jenny and said, "I never thought that song would touch someone else so deeply."

She kissed my cheek and said, "Tara's not the only one to die young, Jordan."

I saw over her shoulder Melody and Sara watching. Melody put her phone away. I was about to tell her to not post what she recorded, but I had a though that stopped me. Maybe it would be good for the world to see what that song meant to people. I let it go.

Sara walked up, and said, "Jordan, please stop shutting me out. I..."

At that moment I realized life was too short for hate. It hit me out of nowhere, but I finally realized I had to let the hate go. I was mad at a woman I loved for cheating on me when there were people who were losing their children to terrible sicknesses. My issue paled in comparison in the grand scheme of things.

I broke away from Jenny and opened my arms. Sara ran into them, almost knocking me down. We hugged. WE. Both of us. I hugged her as she hugged me.

"Thank you, my love. Always and forever," she whispered and turned. She ran down the aisle to the TSA line and disappeared into the crowd.

Melody looked at me and said, "Thank you, daddy. She is living a life of so much regret and I worry about her."

We hugged and she ran off to catch up to her mother. I wondered when my little girl grew up.

*****

I woke up on a sunny Sunday morning. I looked at the clock and it said 6:40; exactly five minutes before the alarm was set to go off. Is there a worse feeling?

That was the day the tour began. The record was going to be released the following Tuesday, and we were playing the first show of the tour in Newark, New Jersey. Jenny was originally going to go along on the first leg of the tour, but she got sidetracked when Michael broke his leg in a pickup football game. It was a blow, but I understood. Her son needed her.

A week before, when I found out who was opening for us on the first leg of the tour, I almost quit. It was Wild Punks. Chris assured me that it was okay because Jimmy Grant wasn't their singer, anymore. I felt better, and even thought it was a thumb up Jimmy's ass that he was losing out. Fuck him!

I woke and jumped into the shower to get ready for the day. After I dried, I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw. I was looking at a man in his mid-forties who was in decent shape and was on the precipice of a second chance at being a star.

I wasn't sure I wanted to be a star again, but I'd have to live with it if it happened.

The reason I was up so early was we were doing a press conference and I had to be part of the flow. It was just the three original members doing the press stuff, so it would look bad if I didn't show.

After breakfast, I walked down to the smaller adjoining conference room they set up for us to be alone without the press and fans gnawing at us. Chris and Ryan were already there and there were a bunch of record company people milling around.

"Jordan, come here," Chris shouted when I walked through the doors.

We exchanged greetings and sat down to discuss the forthcoming press conference.

"Jordan," Chris started, "we know you hate this shit, so we're gonna handle the majority of the questions. We'll answer general shit, and you can answer what is asked of you directly, okay?"

"Sounds good to me," I said. I didn't want to talk to the press and that was perfect. No one cared about me, anyway. Or so I thought.

Our manager called us to go to the next-door room and get started. We sat at the head table and waited for the press to be ushered in. I was surprised at how many there were. I'd find out later that there were fifty news outlets that were given press passes.

I wasn't paying attention as I poured a glass of water while the first question was asked. There was a murmur in the room and Ryan pulled me to him and said, "Don't answer that. Fuck them."

I looked at him with the most natural 'what the fuck are you talking about' look I could muster. Then I heard the question repeated.

"Jordan, how do you feel about Jimmy Grant opening up for you on tour after he stole your wife."

I looked at Chris and Ryan who looked away. I turned back to face the room and asked, "What are you talking about?"

The douchebag reporter smirked and said, "Jimmy Grant is back with Wild Punks as of yesterday."

I looked at Ryan and Chris again and they couldn't meet my gaze. They fucking knew and didn't tell me. I got pissed.

I looked at the idiot reporter and asked, "Can you confirm the rumor I heard that Jimmy Grant can't get erections anymore?"

Ryan and Chris shook their heads. The other reporters laughed.

"I tell you what, dude," I said looking at the reporter. "When Jimmy Grant can walk up here and show us his hard cock, I'll tell you how I feel about him being the opening fucking act for our tour."

There were knowing snickers in the press group. I didn't care.

"So, Jimmy fucking Grant is back with Wild Punks, huh? That's great. They're so shitty, they're opening up for us. You should ask him how it feels opening up for his superior," I said flippantly.

I stood and walked from the room. Fuck them. They don't get to ask me those kinds of questions and get away with it.

Our manager was in the other room, and I ripped into him as soon as I saw him.

"If that band isn't off the tour in five minutes, you better find a new lead guitar player."

"Jordan, we can't. They signed..."

"I don't give a shit. It's them or me, and I tell you this, Chris and Ryan better have a damn fucking good explanation for not telling me. It's obvious they knew and it's obvious you knew. You're a slimy fuck for not telling me and I'm dropping you as my manager as of now. Hell, I think I'll make that a condition for me to stay in the band, too. You have to go!"

I walked out the door and was lucky to catch an open elevator before the press caught up to me. I couldn't believe Chris and Ryan let me get ambushed like that. They had to know it would come up at some point, it was too juicy of a story. Worst of all, that reporter didn't even have the facts right. I left Sara; Jimmy didn't steal her.

Back in the sanctuary of my room, I started packing my bags. I never unpacked when we were only in a city for a night or two, I just lived out of the suitcase. I had to pack my guitar and the sheet music I had spread all over the place.

There was a knock on the door, and I yelled, "Go away." I was in no mood for taking crap from anyone.

My phone rang and it was our manager. I answered and shouted, "What the fuck do you want, Steve?"

"Open the door, we need to talk about this."

"Fuck off, or when I open that door my fist will be saying hello for me."

I ended the call and sat on the bed. I called my lawyer and since it was Sunday, he didn't answer. I left a message telling him to find a way to get me out of the contract with that slimeball manager. Also, to see if I could break the contract with the record company and tour management. That was just in case Chris and Ryan didn't have a damn good reason for ambushing me with Jimmy fucking Grant.

I got a text from Chris that said, "Come to my room. We need to talk."

There was no way I was going to his room. He would have to go to mine.

"Nope. Come to mine or no talk."

It was petty, I knew that. I had to talk to them one way or another.

A few minutes later, the knock on the door came. I let them in and stood silently waiting for an explanation.

"You didn't have to storm out of the press conference. You made us look bad," Ryan started.

That just pissed me off more.

"I made you look bad? That's what you're here to talk about? Fuck you and fuck Chris. You assholes, knew that fuck was opening up for us and didn't tell me. You made yourselves look bad by letting me get ambushed by that reporter. It was the first fucking question! You had to know one of those pricks would ask about it."

"We didn't know anyone knew yet," Chris defended. "Wild Punks weren't announcing it until today and we were going to tell you after the press conference."

I shook my head. "That does not change the fact that you knew and didn't tell me immediately. I'll tell you this right now, if that band is in the arena tonight, I will not be. Do you understand?"

"We get it, but we can't get a replacement this quickly," Ryan balked.

"Bullshit!" I spat. "There're a hundred local bands that would kill to open up a show for us. Make it look like you're the good guys giving local talent a shot at the big time."

They looked at each other and agreed with a nod. That was one problem down.

"I'm looking at getting out of the contract with Steve. He's just as responsible for this as you are. I can't have a manager hiding shit from me. I'll never be able to trust that guy."

"You can't. We signed with him as a corporation. He's Goblin Nob's manager, not yours."

"I'll let my lawyer tell me that, if you don't mind," I said.

Chris asked, "So, are you playing tonight or not?"

"As long as that band is gone, I'll be there."

They nodded and left my room. I seriously thought about walking away from the band. The money was too good to pass up, though. If I were honest with myself, I'd say it felt too good to be a millionaire again to quit.

*****

I stood in the wings of the stage as the lights went down. I tried to block out my negative thoughts as our road manager yelled our introduction. It didn't work. Within seconds, Chris was playing the opening riff to our first song and the curtain shot up. I whirled around trying desperately to remember my parts as I looked for the safe marks on the stage.

I felt the heat as fire was shooting up all around me. The explosions were deafening as I tried to hear the beat of the drums to keep the right tempo, my head was spinning.

I watched Chris dance in front of his microphone, as he was about to sing the first verse. He always looked like he had fire ants in his pants, but the people went crazy for it.

The crowd shouted and sang along. I finally got my bearings and made it to my microphone to sing the background vocals. At least I could breathe. I was playing the right notes, singing the right words, and I hadn't tripped over my feet. It was as good as I could hope for.

I felt the surge of energy from the cheering twenty thousand people in front of me. Unless you've been on stage, you have no idea what it feels like. It feels like a physical wave pushing against you, energizing you. There's no drug that can duplicate that feeling.

We played the last notes of our opening song and we each smiled at each other. We knew we nailed it. The rest of the show went perfectly.

*****

They ended up being right and I couldn't fire the band's manager. What I was able to do was hire my own manager to make sure I was being protected. I lost all trust in Chris and Ryan, and their choice in management. To make matters worse, I was getting outvoted 2 to 1 on everything.

It created a divide, but nothing that we couldn't overcome.

The tour went on and when she was able, Jenny joined me on the road. We spent entire days together, saw some sights when we were able, and made it a point to see some part of each town we visited. I was getting recognized more often, which was a bit of a drag, but she got a kick out of it.

The record was a hit. We sold a bunch and made it to the top ten for a couple of weeks. That exceeded my expectations, but Ryan and Chris hoped for more. I noticed they started changing as the money from the tour rolled in. We sold out every venue we played, and they kept adding extra days to some of the larger cities. Our earnings exceeded the guarantees we got from the local promoters, and we seemed to be riding a rainbow on a pot of gold.

The biggest change was Chris and Ryan wanted a private plane. I hated the idea, but again, I was outvoted 2 to 1. We had a private plane in the early nineties that we chartered and custom painted, but the coolness of that faded. I didn't want the extra expense, but as it turned out, the company cut us a good deal as long as we added their name to the tour book credits. I still wasn't happy, but it was better than flying commercial or riding a bus.

The next change was our hotel rooms. We went from staying in the same mid-level hotels the road crew stayed in, to staying in the most expensive hotels in the city. I'll never forget when we were playing an arena in Rosemont, Illinois. We stayed in a ridiculous hotel in downtown Chicago. If there were no one on the road, it would be a half-hour drive. In Chicago rush hour traffic, it took over an hour and a half. It sucked. The damn arena was literally across the street from the airport and there were plenty of fine hotels in that area, but nope. Chris and Ryan had to stay where royalty stayed when they went to Chicago.

After that came the side deals. The endorsements. I had guitar companies, amplifier manufacturers, and equipment makers all vying for my endorsement. The weirdest one was a cigar company. Someone had put my picture in a magazine in which I was smoking a cigar, and a company wanted to take advantage. It wasn't even the brand I smoked, but they threw money at me anyway. Crazy.

We were earning more on that tour than we made on any tour in the old days. The business changed so much that the majority of a band's earnings came from touring. No wonder bands were touring every year without having new albums. A tour used to be for promoting the new record, but those days were gone. People were happy to pay to see bands play year over year.

*****

Jenny got me set up with the charity's accounting firm. They gave me the business manager that Jenny's family had been working with for over a decade. I felt good about him after Jenny's father assured me that he was the real deal. I still kept a close eye on my account statements. The days of sleeping through meetings were long gone, and I was not going to make the same mistakes twice.

Jenny had become the most important person in my life, aside from my daughter. I was depending on her for every bit of support she was giving me. We were in love, and I was thinking of asking her to marry me, but we hit a rough patch.

She had to go back to work after the summer ended, and I had another two months of touring ahead of me. Then I had to go into the studio and record the second record so we could release it in the spring. I didn't understand why it would take a whole winter to record an album, until they told me that we were going to Europe for a small tour over the winter. That pissed me off because it wasn't part of the original contract.

When they presented me with a new contract for the European tour, I balked. I told them I wasn't going to do it. I wanted to spend Christmas and Thanksgiving with my family, not in some country where I didn't speak the language.

Ryan and Chris flipped out and threatened to sue me. That was the final straw in what was already a deteriorating relationship. I told them that I would honor the contract I signed, but if they wanted to add anything, especially additional tours, I would not participate.

We had a weeklong break in our tour schedule in the early fall. Not surprisingly, it coincided with Chris's birthday. I didn't complain about it, but we had a show on my birthday on the opposite side of the country from my home.

During the break, I flew home and spent some time with Melody and Jenny. I was disappointed Jenny couldn't get away to go on vacation somewhere, but Sara let me have Melody the entire week. She had school, but she stayed with me, and I was thrilled with the time we had together.

My lawyer told me that the contract was iron-clad and didn't have any loopholes allowing them to force me to do additional tours. I had him draft a letter and send it to both Ryan and Chris, our manager, and the record label. I would not be forced into doing more than I wanted to do. It was a minor miracle I was making it through the tour with no setbacks or relapses as it was. I also knew that I said no mostly to piss of my band mates.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of it. Chris and Ryan went ahead and sued me. What my lawyer missed was the partnership agreement we had for the Goblin Nob corporation. They claimed in their suit that the partnership agreement required the four active members of the band to participate in all band activities unless a vote overruled it. You guessed it; I was outvoted without a fourth vote.

*****

They waited until the tour was over to file the suit, but we were due to go into the studio for the new album. I wondered how we were going to get through that when we were at each other's throats, but those assholes weren't worried about me recording any parts for the album. They voted to record it without me and to still pay me as if I played on the record. I was floored. They were going to ghost me on the record with session players, yet put my name on it as if I participated.

I was in the worst funk I'd been in since Danny's death. I was hamstrung by contracts and band votes and felt as if I were being manipulated. I didn't leave my house for the entire month of October and much of November. I wasn't returning Jenny's calls and I wasn't seeing her. I didn't want to see anyone, including Melody, and I didn't realize how bad I was hurting them. I didn't drink, but I moped around as if the world was ending. I wasn't sure I would survive a forced tour in Europe. I fought the urge to drink on an hourly basis as it were.

Then the doorbell rang. I ignored it as usual but was shocked when it opened. I was even more shocked when I saw that it was Jenny and her father John, Melody, Sara, and Alan Grant. I knew I should have changed the locks after the divorce.

I was buried in hugs. I was wrapped in so many arms, I had no idea who was hugging me.

"Jordan, enough is enough," Jenny started.

"Jenny, I don't..."

"Shut it, daddy. We're here to help you," Melody snapped.

I was shocked when she yelled at me. She never did that before.

"Jordan," Jenny continued, "I read in the news about the lawsuit. I remembered I had Alan's card and he agreed to help you."

"Jordan," he said, "I've handled this kind of thing before. Get me your contracts and I'll represent you in the lawsuit. If nothing else, I can wrap them up in injunctions and court dates so far out, they won't be able to do a tour in Europe for years."

"I like the sound of that," I said. "My lawyer has the originals, but I've got copies of everything here."

I excused myself and went to my office to retrieve the documents. I didn't realize John followed.

"Jordan?"

I sighed, "Yeah?"

"You're losing her."

That was all he said and when I turned around he was gone. I was stunned. I never thought that my moping around would make me lose Jenny. I took it for granted she would wait for me, and all would be well when I got over it.

I handed the contracts to Alan and he and John excused themselves. Before Alan walked out, he said, "Jordan, I meant what I said. Whatever you need and I'll be there. Don't forget that again." He smiled and winked before closing the door.

Sara and Melody were talking to Jenny when I said, "Jenny, can I talk to you upstairs for a minute?

She was pissed, and quickly agreed. I knew she was dying to rip into me, so I followed her slowly up the stairs. After she stopped in my bedroom, I closed the door behind me, and she attacked my lips.

Her kiss was like fire and her embrace was tight as she acted as if she'd never see me again. As suddenly as she started, she stopped. She was gasping for air, and I said, "Jenny, I'm..."

"An asshole. A self-absorbed jerk, who cares so little about the women he loves that he lets them hang in the wind while he wallows in self-pity."

"Okay. That's pretty close, but I was going to say I'm sorry."