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I see Sandra and the security officer now responsible for me waiting on the sidelines.
“Please don’t hug me!” I beg her, but she doesn’t seem to mind that I’m covered in sweat.
“You were so brave!” she says, “Look who’s here to talk to you.”
She shows me her phone, and Brody’s face is on the screen, looking proud of me and giving me the urge to start jumping around like popcorn.
“Brody!” I take the phone in my hands, running for a quieter place. “Why aren’t you resting?”
He grunts and dismisses my suggestion with a wave of his hand. “I’m tired of resting. Doctor says I get to get out in a few hours.”
“Did you get any clips of the show?” I ask.
“Sandra sent me one. The first song,” he says. “It was foolish of you to provoke that creep like that, but I admire your moxie.”
I bite on my fingernails. “Was that a bad move?”
“It’s probably fine,” I see him shifting in bed - oh, how I wish I was there and could be his pillow. “But we’ll be paying attention.”
“Alright, get home soon,” I blow him a kiss. “I still have the press conference to do today, but I’ll hopefully meet you back at the hotel. Will I?”
“It’s a date,” he smirks.
With a sweet, “Bye!” I let him go, then head for my dressing room.
Sandra and the guard are behind me. The guard happily waits outside, but Sandra comes in to stay with me.
“He said I was a fool to provoke Ben like that,” I say like the kid who did something naughty but does not regret it.
“Screw Ben!” Sandra shouts, tilting her head back for a better vocal reach. “I never liked that guy to begin with!”
But I shrug, uncertain, still feeling a tiny shred of compassion for the ‘creep,’ as Brody called him, though that compassion is quickly disappearing.
“Just because he’s weird doesn’t mean he was bound to do something wrong, Sandra,” I take a bottle of Gatorade and go sit down.
“I know…” she tenses up her shoulders, collapsing in the chair beside me. “It was just a gut feeling. You know how sometimes he would be so sensitive and smart, then sometimes he’d be so clueless and creepy?”
I nod, “Doesn’t mean much, I don’t think. But what the hell do I know, I’m not a psychiatrist.”
“Just someone trying to help,” she reaches with a hand for me.
And I reach back, intertwining my fingers with hers. “Sometimes I think I want to help way too much,” I say, and Sandra snickers at my comment.
“Can’t embrace the world alone, girl,” she whispers, and I smile at her words and support.
I hear Sweets Tyler’s bass commencing outside and feel tired of that noise already. “Wanna go watch the show?” I ask Sandra, still holding her hand.
“Not really,” she says, “It’s been a long day. Plus, Brody asked me to go pick him a set of clean clothes.”
“Are you going to pick him up?”
She nods, “Let’s go to the hotel and get some rest ourselves,” and she stands, motioning me with a hand to follow her.
The hotel is just on the other side of the street, but we still take the car to get there for security reasons. Sandra and I collapse against the elevator walls, but the officer stays stiff and rigid between us, standing like a robot.
“Hey!” I call for his attention, “Do you know a guy named Fryars?”
“No, miss,” he says.
