21 - I Feel the Earth Move

“What the hell was that all about, man?  I’ve never seen you talk to a fan that way.”  Lounging in Jon’s dressing room doorway, Richie watched his friend tie his shoe, still dumbstruck at his behavior toward the Lilah woman.  Not that she hadn’t held her own – pretty damn admirably, in fact – but he was confused as to why she’d been forced to. 

After her shot about it ‘not being all about him’, the Southern Belle had smiled sweetly to soften the jab.  It was enough to encourage the others around the table to laugh a bit awkwardly and allow the Tension Train to chug on through without further casualty.  Everyone had slowly drifted away, with Jon being the first to excuse himself.

Letting his foot fall from the low table in front the sofa, Jon scowled up at him.  “That’s because she’s not a fan.  Didn’t you hear?”

“Damn.”  He’d heard the story about the Q&A, but still…  With a shake of his shaggy head, Richie asked in wonder,  “This girl has done what to piss you off?”

Jon stood, huffing out a huge, hissing breath before bouncing on his toes and stretching out his shoulders.

“She hasn’t done anything.  Yet.  But if she fucks my brother over…”  The unfinished threat dangled in the air.

“There a particular reason you think that’s gonna happen?”

“I don’t like the way this whole thing has gone down.  Lilah Bennett has an ulterior objective in being here.  Probably something to do with the band.”

Richie laughed, earning himself a dirty look that only made him laugh harder. 

“What is so fucking funny, Sambora?”

“You.  More specifically, your conceit.”  He scratched his head with an exaggerated inspection of the little room.  Richie pointedly looked from floor to ceiling and wall to wall.  “How the hell did you squeeze your head in this place?”

“Not that I’m denying the conceit, but what’s your point?”

“My point…” He stepped forward and slung an arm around Jon’s shoulders, so he could give him a little shake.  “…is that little Lilah is right.  It ain’t all about you.  TBJ has been known to get his own pussy.  Who’s to say this girl hasn’t trekked all over Hell and a half-acre just to meet him?  Innocent until proven guilty, man.  Innocent until proven guilty.”

✧✧✧

Tony finished his cigarette and flipped the butt aside, believing that he might be calmer now.  Jon was usually the most polite and politically correct of all of them.  He had no idea what the fuck had come over his egomaniacal rock star brother, nor did he have time to find out.  It was too close to show time.

To Lilah, he pretended nothing was wrong, taking her back under the stage and introducing her to Dawn and Abby, the wardrobe mistresses for Jon and Richie.  She had taken an immediately liking to the quirky Abby who, at the moment, was giving her an up-close-and-personal look at the infamous Sambora Stetson.  It’s what was allowing him the opportunity to smoke his annoyance away.

Part of it, anyway.

He was still aggravated that Lilah was wearing a damn turtleneck, wouldn’t even pull her hair away from her face, refused to eat, refused to sit if he wasn’t sitting.  Even then, she wouldn’t always sit.  She asked the occasional intelligent question, but was otherwise a silent sponge, absorbing everything he told her with a thoughtful nod.   He could see that she got it. 

All of it, and he was suitably impressed.

She was smart, but he had some reservations about her common sense.

✧✧✧

Lilah kept a polite smile in place as she discreetly rubbed the knot on her head.  Abby was very sweet to take time out of her day so that Lilah could see Richie’s hats, but the woman was perky.  Perky required energy to keep up, and energy was in short supply for Lilah.  She hated slighting this opportunity to touch the black felt that had been photographed hundreds of times, but she would be happier sitting in a dark corner and closing her eyes for just a few minutes.

“Bluegrass?  It’s time, Babe.”

The shot of adrenaline from that casual ‘Babe’ was much needed and appreciated.  If she had the nerve, she would kiss him here in the Jovi Underworld in front of whoever happened to be wandering around. 

It was out of character for her, but, after today she knew more than ever that this trip was worth it.  Seeing his interaction with other people, the respect he earned from crew members by showing his respect for their capabilities, watching him laugh and exchange half-hearted insults with his friends…  It all combined to cement the Tony of her mind into the flesh and blood man who was all that and more. 

The man she came closer and closer to believing was…  If she could just find out the answer to that last pressing question, she would be certain.

“Thank you so much for showin’ me around, Abby.  I really enjoyed it.”

“Oh, no problem!  Enjoy the show.”

Lilah nodded and turned to follow Tony back to his board.  When he settled himself on the rolling, black desk chair she stood behind him and resisted the temptation to knead his bunched shoulders.  “If I upset you earlier, I’m sorry.  And I’m sorry I was a bitch to Jon.  If you could let him know that, I’d appreciate it.”

Sliding an earpiece in place, he turned to look at her curiously.  “You don’t owe anybody an apology, now strap in.  It’s about to get loud.”

Choosing not to belabor the point, she simply nodded and picked up her camera, stepping back to get a few shots of him at work. 

“Do you have time for one last question?” 

Her answer came in the form of the band’s familiar silhouettes on the monitor and the low rumble of the opening segment that shook the underside of the stage.  Unsteady to start with, Lilah reached out a hand to sturdy herself and drew a deep breath.  The vibrations were disorienting and had turned the ache in her head to an army of piercing daggers.

“Lead with camera one and then zoom in with three.  We’ll go to the circle cam right after.”

His voice was a dull murmur under the electronic wind and whirring and, while she damned the missed opportunity for her question, it might be that her answer would come in a different way.

The band members rushed under the stage, slapping hands with the staffers as they passed.  Jon went behind her, to bounce on the center stairs while Richie, Tico and Hugh ascended on the other side of Tony. 

Maybe it was her eyes playing tricks on her in the dim lighting, but, as her fingers curled a death grip around the support post at her side, she could swear that Richie winked at her.  A hot flash rolled over her, inciting a wave of nausea and she cursed the stupid turtleneck for the umpteenth time that day. 

Would it have been so horrible to let him see the cuts?  As perspiration trickled down into her cleavage, she thought that, at least, she would have spent the day a few degrees cooler.

The band launched into their opener and Jon bounded up the stairs. 

Lilah, gasped, having had no idea how intensely she was going to feel the music from such close proximity.  The bass drum pounded in her chest so hard that she thought her sternum would crack from the pulsations.  Her arms were vibrating.  Her feet were vibrating.  And her poor head…

Not smart, Lilah Jane.  You clearly didn’t think this through.

Shouldering her camera, she fanned her face and swallowed the bile that was accompanied by a cold sweat.  The vibrations in her head intensified, bringing with it a ringing in her ears that was out of pitch with the guitar and keyboard parts. 

Her knees joined in the vibration party – or were they actually knocking?  When the tremulous shaking dropped into her ankles, her eyes fluttered. 

Dammit, you have never fainted in your life.  Don’t start now. You are not going to  make a scene, Lilah Jane!  Get a grip!

That pep talk was all well and good, but her body had gone as far as it intended to without proper care and nourishment.  As her legs folded under her like a deflated accordion, she heard plastic and metal clatter. 

Her camera hit the ground, and she landed on top of it to the accompaniment of a shouted, “Goddammit, Lilah!” interspersed with terse directions to his camera operators.  “Abby!  Dawn!  Somebody see if she’s okay!  No, follow Jon if he’s moving.  If not, get David.”

She heard and felt it all as sharply as the camera lens that was digging into her ribs.  Every time he uttered another calm video direction, every time he swore at her, every time he swore at himself for agreeing to this.  Each curse left a mark on her already scarred psyche.

Aren’t you the brilliant one?  You were that close to finding out if your intuition and premonitions were right, and you hit the ground like a damn sack of potatoes.  You can’t do anything right.

Yes.  She could.  And she would.  Willing her limbs to cooperate, she pushed up onto her knees about the time that Dawn got to her.  With the other woman’s help, she made it into a standing position.

“Get her someplace where she can sit and make her drink a goddamn bottle of water!”

“That’s okay,” she murmured to Dawn, willing her rubbery ankles to solidify.  Those were the only things she could focus on clearly.  The humiliation, shame, light-headedness and nausea were all intertwined in an insurmountable, co-mingled knot that defied anything she might be capable of doing to it in her current state.  “I’m embarrassed, but fine.  I just need a little air.”

With gentle encouragement, Dawn helped her find her way away from the depths of the heat-infested equipment out into the evening air.  It must have been twenty degrees cooler with the breeze blowing across her face.

Lilah slumped over the barrier railing, reveling in the chill of the metal against her forehead. 

Just breathe.  Don’t think about the rest of it.

“Here.” 

A cold bottled-water materialized in her hand and she lifted her head to utter a soft word of thanks to whoever had provided it.  Rather than drinking it, she put it against her cheek. 

“What else can I get you?” 

Lila started to shake her head, but thought better of it.  The unnecessary motion might make her vomit.  “Nothing.  Please go back to whatever you need to be doing.  I’ll be fine.  Really.”

“I… don’t know about that.”  This from Abby who was regarding her quite nervously.   “You don’t need to be alone.”

Game face, Lilah Jane.  Don’t screw everybody’s night up.

She dug deep, pushing away the cobwebs that enshrouded her head and pulling out her most convincing smile.  She addressed both of the wardrobe mistresses, holding her water aloft.  “I have water.  I just got a little hot, ladies.  I’m fine.  Honestly.  Please don’t make me responsible for something onstage not going as it should.  Please.”

It took several more minutes, but both women could hear the change of songs and knew they would be called upon by their bosses soon.  That was the only thing that enabled Lilah to convince them to return to their posts. 

The minute they walked away, darting concerned glances back over their shoulders, Lilah stood straight and stiffened both her spine and her knees.

Now it’s time to get your dumb ass out of here and back to the hotel.

That meant winding her way toward the back gate to search for a taxi that may, or may not, be safe transportation back to the hotel.  Safe didn’t matter anymore to a physically and heart sick Lilah.

Death is preferable to the way I feel right now.