“My team did work too!” Trenton roars back. “Who do you think is outside right now making sure no one barges in on us while we have this private conversation?”
Hardly private, I think to myself.
“You mean the team that treats me like a fragile little dove? The team that disrespects my manager over and over again?” I wouldn’t call Mae a fragile dove, but she is often left licking her wounds after spats like this one. A team full of men, how are we supposed to know how to handle that? She doesn’t want our help, and even if she did, would she take what was offered?
As if summoned by the mention of her, Mae's no-nonsense publicist, Raleigh, appears down the hall. A woman on a mission, she rests her signature binder on her hip and marches toward me. Her sleek black dress swishes against the ground as she walks, but she never shows a single sign of letting it trip her up. We’ve crossed paths a few times, but I’ve never been one to garner her attention. Good. If you’re in her sights, it usually means you’ve done something wrong. She pays me no mind as she approaches the door.
My view down the long hallway is disrupted as my eyes slide to the tall woman next to me. I’m not one for drama. I typicallytry to stay out of it all, but I’m sure things are about to boil over if Raleigh goes in.
I clear my throat. “Are you sure you want to interrupt them?”
She scoffs and doesn’t bother to look at me as she lifts her hand to knock on the door. “Do you want to be the witness of a crime scene? I certainly don’t, not with tonight on the line.”
The yelling inside is replaced with two sets of stomping feet. Mae is the first to appear at the door. Her face is puffy and tears stain her cheeks. With another sigh, Raleigh throws an arm around her shoulders and hugs her close.
Trenton opens his mouth, but Raleigh shuts him down with a stare alone. He resorts to hanging his head and stepping back with his hands held high in defeat. His jaw clenches as Raleigh continues to dote on Mae.
Raleigh spares two seconds to get Trenton in line. “You’re gonna go get yourself cleaned up and then you and Mae are going to put this behind you and do what they’re paying you to. Got it?” There’s a hiss to her voice. I half expect Trenton to say something rude, but he just nods before Raleigh and Mae turn away.
“Why’d you let her in?” Trenton snarls when the girls are out of earshot.
“I thought it’d be best,” I say simply. Breaking up their lovers' quarrels isn’t in my job description but hearing a woman hurting like that isn’t something I can simply ignore. Raleigh merely gave me an easy in.
Trenton sighs. “Sometimes I don’t know if it’s worth the effort.”
I hold my tongue at his remark. It’s been a rumor forever, but one I believe. The moment Mae leaves him is the moment his stock in this town takes a nosedive. His streaming numbers explode whenever Mae features, their joint concerts are instant sell outs. She was an overnight success three years ago and hewas on his way out. It’s smart on his part, but the cheating he’s supposedly been doing, the arguments he’s instigated, I hardly understand why Mae sticks around. She sure as hell doesn’t need him, she never did.
“Got something to say, Cosgrove?” Trenton asks, studying me.
“Nothing, sir,” I say, reinstating my posture and subsequent stare down the hallway.
***
Mae and Trenton are in the wrong business. Sure, they’re great musical performers, but their acting is on another level. Despite the tears from earlier, Mae commands the stage with poise. Despite the anger, Trenton looks at her with love and softness. Despite the screaming, they sound as good as ever.
Content in being a fly on the wall for this performance, I stand off in the shadows of the makeshift stage and take up my usual stance. The buzz of my coworkers goes in and out of my earpiece. They’re not talking about anything job related, it’s a very private gala, so no one's on high alert.
As Mae and Trenton finish their original duet, they take a quick break and speak about the reason for the event. It’s a good cause—one I know that, despite their issues, the power couple has donated quite a hefty amount to. They lace their speech with bright smiles, but those who know them both might be able to pick out the bite underneath the sultry eyes and rigid body language.
When the words have been said and the crowd has exhausted their applause, the band picks back up. To close the night, they’ve decided to sing Jackson by Johnny Cash and June Carter. This ignites the crowd members, some of which worked with or knew the original singers. It’s a fan favorite, but what alot of people don’t know is that behind the facade they put on when they’re performing the song about a quarreling couple, are two broken individuals who can only seem to get along when they’re on stage.
I’ve been put in a trance by the two before, but tonight is entirely different. I’m only drawn away from the undeniable force on stage by the redheaded woman standing on the opposite backstage wing. Clutching her binder in one hand and her phone in the other, it looks like she’s snapping a few pictures.
I’ll never understand how Trenton’s team can be so callous toward her. She always seems to be putting in 10 times the work as a team of one than a team of 20. I know Mae can be untrusting, for valid reasons showcased on the daily by the media, but would it hurt to get Raleigh a little help?
As if summoned by my thoughts, Raleigh’s green eyes find mine. She narrows them, and I quickly abort. I find Trenton’s stupid boots and stare at those for the rest of the performance. They stomp in time with the music, and I can’t help but wonder how much they cost.
As the final lines fade, the audience rises to stand. The couple takes their bows and exits the stage—in opposite directions. I take a deep breath and brace for impact as Trenton storms toward me. When I look up across the stage, Mae and Raleigh are making a speedy exit.
I put a finger to my ear piece and brief the rest of the team. “Trouble in paradise,” I mumble as Trenton throws his guitar at an unsuspecting stage hand. The poor man notices it hurling at his face at the last second and is able to reel it in before it crashes to the ground.
My announcement has been met with groans from my coworkers and then our superior delegating tasks. It’s all drowned out when Trenton whirls to me and makes a few demands of his own.
“Aren’t you going to have someone follow them?” he asks, lifting his hat and slicking back his hair.
“Sir?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Mae? Her agent? It’s still early, and I know she likes to go to the bars when we fight.”
