Traffic Girl - Katie Ch. 01

The scene that Monday night unfolded the same as it had after the previous three performances. After Riley wrapped her final encore, she hustled off stage, with the band, dancers, and backup singers right behind her. She and Henry would embrace briefly, and then they would be whisked away with their entourage. That entourage included Katie and me, along with Emily, Ken, Dave, Kelly, Elizabeth, and another half-dozen trusted band members and dancers. We piled into four large, black SUVs and exited the stadium via the underground performers' entrance. It was a trip, being whisked past throngs of delirious, still-cheering fans who belatedly realized it was their favorite star speeding past.

It was late enough that we were able to make the trip up to the Hollywood Hills in thirty minutes. Katie and I rode with Riley and Henry in their SUV, the stars in the captain's chairs in the back and Katie and me in the third row. Before we had even hit the 405 to head north, Riley had buried a scoop of cocaine in her nose that Henry passed her from the vial in his hand.

"Wooo!" Riley shouted after she took the bump, giving the scoop back to Henry. "What a night!"

"Incredible show!" I said. "Incredible!"

"So much fun! Oh my god!" Katie exclaimed.

Henry gave Riley the scoop, reloaded, and she pushed a bump up her other nostril.

"Fuck, I am so ready to party tonight," Riley said, rubbing her nose. "That was such a rush. Did I sound okay? It felt fucking amazing."

"You were unbelievable, babe," Henry said, accepting the scoop back from his girlfriend and passing the vial to Katie. "Ladies first."

"You were amazing, too, babe," Riley said, her smile lighting up the dark interior of the car. "We seriously are unstoppable."

Katie took a couple bumps of coke, passed the vial to me for mine, and it made its way back to Henry. My heart was racing, and it wasn't just the drugs. We had gotten to know Riley and Henry very well since Jess and I had bumped into them in Cabo. We had played with them. We had partied with them. But their on-tour "whatever happens, happens" attitude had remained shrouded in mystery. They had only teased what that meant. Of course, after seeing how Henry enjoyed himself during Riley's sets the past few nights, I was eager to see just how much of the "sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll" cliché would blossom before our eyes.

"I can't believe I'm a part of this," Katie said.

"You were awesome, girl!" Riley said, turning around in her seat.

Even after having performed all-out for more than two hours, she looked perfectly put together and bubbling with effusive energy. This was definitely a different version of her. She was powerful, confident. Not that she wasn't normally, but on an ordinary day, she was extremely laid back. Right now, it was apparent she was a force of nature. That was my first inkling that something would be completely different that night.

The vial of coke made it around the SUV twice more during the ride up to our new houses. As we made our way, Riley and Henry let slip a couple details about what might be in store for us that night, and we also gleaned a few more based on what we heard them talk about.

"How many did you pull?" Riley asked at one point.

"Six," Henry said.

"Leaving one empty spot, huh?" she said.

Henry turned around and explained what that meant.

"Riley and I pick out seven people from the crowd to come party," he said. "Like, we each fill up one Suburban."

"I'm surprised you didn't try to find skinny girls and pack nine of them in," Riley teased.

"How many did you pick?" Henry asked.

"Seven, babe," Riley said. "I could have pulled ten."

Katie and I glanced at each other, and our eyes got wide.

"How's that work?" I asked.

"We each have a roadie who's been with us for a long time," Henry said. "You have to use someone you know well and can totally trust. I scope some out during my set but then make the official pick while Riley's on. And vice versa."

"They get an NDA and instructions -- like their cell phone has to go in a bag and they get it back whenever they want to leave the party," Riley added. "And if they agree? Then they get to come."

Riley was still in her last concert outfit, another shiny and short dress. She tugged off the high-heeled boots that went with them and rolled down the shimmering stockings she wore. I noticed that the shorts she wore under the dress were tossed to the floor, too.

"Damn," Katie said. "That's insane."

"It's actually kind of crazy how structured it is," Henry said. "But you have to be serious about the public image. They won't arrive at the party until at least thirty minutes after us. We work really hard to cover our tracks."

"What could be so bad that you need to cover your tracks that much?" I said, adding an exaggerated laugh.

Riley and Henry shared a knowing glance and smile.

"You'll see," Riley said, her tongue darting across her bottom lip quickly.

Katie grabbed my hand and made eyes at me. I could feel what she was thinking. She was dying to know, just as much as I was.

* * *

The SUVs containing us and Henry and Riley's entourage pulled through the large mechanical gates we had installed at the Hollywood & Vine houses. We had reconfigured the entryway so that there was a large driveway between the two houses, which provided a good amount of parking. The driveway came to a dead end at a substantial outdoor pavilion, which served as a kind of check-in point, almost like a small welcome center. Outdoor furniture dotted the walkways to the two houses, each of which also had a generous pool area and guest house. Combined among all the structures, there were fifteen bedrooms available. A couple hundred people could party comfortably there.

We piled out of the Suburban via the driver's side, and Katie and I led the way toward the house on the left, which had an extra bedroom and was the slightly larger of the two. It was where Kat, Jess, and Rita waited for us. As soon as everyone had exited their vehicles, the SUVs pulled away, and the gates closed, sealing us in privacy.

The first interesting thing I noticed was that the entourage knew the score. They all kind of peeled off, wandered around, and did their own exploring initially. I heard the occasional flick of a lighter and soon after the acrid, distinctive smell of marijuana. Riley and Henry followed us into the house, as did Emily and her band's lead guitar player, a tall, muscular, bald-headed Australian named Jake.

"Knock, knock!" I announced as we walked inside.

"Baby!" Rita's voice cried out from across the wide open main room.

She stood by the long, curved bar we had installed between the living area and the kitchen. There was a small army of Champagne bottles, sweating and cold, lined up on it, with glasses next to them. Then there was a substantial expanse of the bar top that was flat, except for being dotted with a few bowls and other smaller containers. It was where we had inlaid an antique mirror into the bar's surface. There were a handful of carve-outs inset around the mirror. And that's where the girls had laid out more than a hundred lines of cocaine. There was a bowl full of pillowy powder next to the line-covered surface, which looked like the most enticing mogul course you had ever seen. In the other bowls were an array of pills -- xanax, molly, hash, various strains of weed, dabs, and Special K. We had dubbed it the Hollywood & Vine buffet. The only rule on consumption was no heroin and no opioids. That hit too close to dark times and memories.

Kat, Jess, and Rita flew across the room to us, greeting us with a warm series of hugs and kisses. We made introductions of our new friends, Emily and Jake.

"So I hear you've been sucking off our husband every night!" Rita said, with dead-pan seriousness.

The girls had met Emily during our Halloween party, but it had been a while, and they hadn't had much contact with her that night.

"I, um," Emily stammered, surprised at being so disarmed.

"And I hear you're really, really good at it," Kat said with a laugh.

"Maybe you can give us deep throat lessons," Jess said.

"Like you need it!" Rita teased.

Emily finally exhaled and laughed.

"Come on, guys!" Kat said. "This is a party, isn't it? Help yourselves. We've got beer in the fridge. More wine in the chillers. Champagne, obviously. Help yourself to the buffet. Let me know if you need me to identify anything, but I'm guessing you probably know what's what. And if you need anything, just ask!"

Jake had wandered over to the bar, and in his deep, Australian accent exclaimed, "Holy fuck! There's enough coke here to make you hop like a kangaroo!"

Everyone laughed, and it helped break the ice. Most of us had partied together. Most of us had fucked each other. But this setting was new, both from the physical surroundings to the occasion.

"He's sexy," Jess said, looking at Jake.

"He plays a mean guitar," Emily said.

"Does he play more than that?" Jess asked.

"A fucking mean skin flute," Emily said and stuck her tongue out.

"I like you," Jess said. "I'm Jess."

"I remember," Emily said. "So good to see you."

They hugged, and the party was off to the races. Riley and Henry were already at the bar, standing side-by-side as they snorted two lines each. Kat and Rita were on the opposite side of the bar, also doing two lines each. It was like an assembly line for inhaling cocaine. The Hollywood & Vine setup truly took partying to another level. And our guests hadn't even seen all the fun secrets hiding among them yet.

When Riley and Henry had finished doing their lines, Emily and Jess replaced them at the bar. I saw Jake leering at Emily as her micro skirt crawled up, giving brief glimpses of her purple thong panties as she shifted her weight back and forth while she addressed the lines. He also stared at Jess's ass, which looked luscious in a miniscule pair of cutoff white jean shorts. Riley and Henry sidled up next to me as I popped open a couple magnums of Champagne. I poured out the first one into glasses until it was empty. Riley and Henry helped themselves, and Henry passed one to me. Rita and Kat each picked up a glass, and we toasted.

"To rock and roll," I said.

"You forgot the sex and drugs," Riley said as we all clinked glasses.

I was starting to get a glimpse of where the night was going, and I liked what I saw.

The rest of the entourage started to file in after exploring the outdoor areas, but I also heard a couple people splashing around in the pool when the door opened. It was interesting to see who passed muster as trusted enough to party with Riley and Henry. All the band and backup singers made the cut, but only a few of the backup dancers did and only Emily and Jake from the opening act. There were also four members of their talent management company, and I wondered what it took to attain the perk of attending these after parties.

As more people filed in, more cocaine disappeared, pills popped, bowls and bongs got picked up and taken outside. Champagne bottles opened with happy booms and got emptied almost as quickly. All of these people had worked hard and given their all over four shows in five days. It was very clear immediately that this was their reward, and they weren't going to let a moment pass without relishing it.

"This is something else," Kat said. She and Rita had moved around the bar to join me.

"I'm so curious to see what happens," Rita said.

"Me, too," I said. "That's exactly what I've been thinking since we left the stadium."

"How was the show?" Kat asked.

"Amazing," I said.

"I can't wait to go again," Kat said.

"Me, too," Rita agreed.

I smiled at them, then lowered my voice.

"I'm so, so curious how this is going to unfold," I said.

And, just then, Riley and Henry came over to us. Kat and Rita greeted them with hugs and congratulated them on the wildly successful kickoff to their tour.

"It's so much fun getting back out to the fans," Riley said.

"And celebrating with them," Henry said with a chuckle.

"Oh yeah?" Kat said, arching her eyebrows.

Riley explained the groupie selection system, which sounded more impersonal than it really was. And I could see Kat salivate at the notion of picking a handful of lucky winners out of a stadium packed with tens of thousands of people.

"I mean this as a total compliment," Rita said, "but what an ego trip that must be."

"It is," Henry said.

"Huge," Riley agreed. "The biggest."

"How do you keep things discreet?" Rita asked.

Henry described the NDAs, the sequestration of cell phones, and also mentioned that their security detail -- four menacing looking bodyguards who were standing outside the party as he spoke -- searched and kept a tight leash on interlopers. There was inherent risk in letting fans in like that, but the temptation of it and the pure flattery of people throwing themselves at you like that was irresistible. It was part of the lifestyle.

"So, yeah, you really just have to take the greatest lengths to keep it quiet," Riley said. "I know it sounds a bit draconian, but, well..."

Her voice trailed off, and she shot a furtive glance at Henry.

"I'll say it," Henry spoke up. "I think you're going to see tonight why the privacy and risk mitigation part of this is so important."

Kat, Rita, and I all glanced at each other.

"Now I'm really dying to know," I said with a laugh.

Riley smiled at me, then she said something sotto voce to Rita, who gave a quick smirk and licked her lips. Rita made a quick motion to Kat, and the two of them slid back over to the bar with Riley. They took turns bending down to do lines, but I noticed Kat's and Rita's hands disappear under Riley's short skirt when she took her turn. Kat and Rita giggled and licked their fingers when they drew them out.

Henry was watching the same thing I was and laughed when he saw the conclusion.

"Riley loves to show off how wet this makes her," Henry said with a chuckle.

"I have to admit, bud," I said. "I'm keen to see how crazy this gets."

"As crazy as you want to make it, man," Henry said.

He clapped me on the back, his usual move before he walked off to something else. In this instance, he refilled his glass and approached a couple of the backup dancers, who were talking to Emily. Riley embarked on a quick lap around the room, too, while Kat and Rita came back over to me. We had empty glasses, so I filled them.

"What did Riley say to you?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing much," Rita said with a little giggle.

"She just needs our help with something," Kat said.

"That sounds mysterious," I said. "How did her pussy taste?"

"You know it tasted good, daddy," Kat said.

"Oh my god," Rita interrupted. "Look at Jess and Katie."

Kat and I traced her gaze across the room, where my other two wives were holding court before three good looking men. It appeared that Katie was introducing Jess to them. And Jess's eyes bored a look of unadulterated lust at the tallest of the three.

"How come we never knew musicians were so hot before, Rita?" Kat said.

"I have no idea, girl," Rita said. "Who are they?"

"Well, the tall bald guy is Jake, the guitar player from BowHaus," I said. "The guy with the beard is Ken, the drummer in Riley's band, and the guy with long hair is Dave, her guitar player."

"This is like a buffet lineup of all the types of good looking men," Kat observed.

"Doing some shopping, Kitty Kat?" I asked.

"Maybe, daddy," she said. "I think I might be busy tonight. But I figure this may not be our last party with this crew."

"I sure hope it isn't," I said.

"The girls aren't bad looking, either," Rita noted.

"I may have noticed that," I said.

"Who's Henry talking to?" Kat asked.

"Backup dancers," I said. "I haven't caught their names."

There was one who looked like a ballerina, with her hair in a long, high blonde ponytail and another, a Latina, with wildly curly hair and a thick, brick house of a body.

"I bet you will," Rita said. "Because if you don't? I'm going to."

We laughed, and then heard four hard knocks on the front door. We looked at each other, confused, but as if on cue, Riley and Henry immediately and quickly walked over to it. And I realized the knock was a signal, probably from their security. And that signal could only mean one thing. The groupies had arrived.

"Groupies" really wasn't a fair term. This wasn't a rock concert with professional hangers-on gathering around trying to get a chance with the band. I mean, maybe there were some true groupies among the attendees, but it became apparent immediately when the thirteen new additions to the party walked through the door that groupies in the traditional sense weren't what interested Riley and Henry. In fact, it was obvious to all of us in a matter of seconds what each of them liked.

The seven men who came into the room shared a few traits. First, they were all shorter than six-feet. Second, they had square jaws. Third, they had what I presumed to be carefully disheveled hair. Fourth, they were all fairly svelte and gave off the impression of being physically non-threatening. It was pretty clear Riley had a type.

The six girls also made it obvious that Henry had a type. They were all blonde. They were all short, no taller than five-three. They all wore low-cut, absurdly tight tops that showed off big tits -- fake or natural didn't matter, but they were all top-heavy. And they all had an underlying look of being a little trashy, whether it was a slightly-too-big nose or too much makeup or a garish tattoo, each of them gave off the vibe of cheap, easy sluttiness.

Each group got one bodyguard as a kind of chaperone. They shuttled the baker's dozen into the room, gave them the lay of the land, and told them to help themselves to the party favors. All of us who were already in the room looked on like this was some kind of show, and it genuinely was entertaining. Not because we were mocking them or looking down on them. It was because they had all been swept away into a world that was so obviously outside their comfort zone. The looks on their faces, without exception, said it all. Mouths were agape. Eyes were wide. There were gasps and "oh my gods" muttered. They were simply in awe -- by the people surrounding them, most of whom they had just been screaming their heads off for while they were on stage, by the absurd excessiveness of the drugs laid out on the bar, by the embarrassing amount of expensive Champagne sitting there for the taking.

All of them seemed to naturally gravitate toward their star of choice, the girls toward Henry and the boys toward Riley. It's like they knew what was about to go down. And maybe they had been briefed on it during the ride over because I also noticed a couple of handlers from Riley's production company nervously flitting around the fringes of the room.

"Have some fun, guys!" Henry said in a boisterous voice.

"Make yourselves comfortable," Riley echoed. "Party it up! Let's have some fun!"

Receiving permission from their heroes should have broken the ice, and it did for some of the fans. Half the girls and most of the guys hit the cocaine. A couple of the band members behind the bar poured Champagne for the newcomers. Everyone took a glass. Two of the guys didn't hit the party favors. Instead, they snaked through the crowd and talked to Riley. She smiled at them and made small talk. I watched with rapt fascination. I didn't know what Riley had in mind for the night, but I had seen what her face looked like when she was basking in attention. I wondered if this was a test for her fans. Whoever scratched the itch of the attention whore that lived inside her was going to get her attention in return.

Henry, on the other hand, encouraged all the girls to indulge their party instincts, and he held court in the center of the room, the six ringing him in a circle. They were almost drooling. He looked at them like a predator ready to strike. I didn't blame him. The girls were hot in a I'll-say-yes-to-any-kink way.