See Her (Turn it Up #1)

Chapter 41

41

MAYZIE

J ack and I walk hand in hand through the back of the stadium in the afternoon sunshine, catching up and flirting as much as possible until he reaches the section backstage cordoned off for Turn it Up and their instruments. I hang out while he retrieves his guitar from a tech and when I turn towards the stage, I see Matt and Chris just about ready to start their sound check.

Matt shouts a greeting and points at me, smiling, while Chris frantically waves before jumping in a half-spin, giving me his back and swaying his ass back and forth. Okay, so that’s some kind of a welcome back dance... I think.

I hang back as Jack struts out on the stage, and watch as he huddles with Matt, going over something or other when an imposing presence appears at my side.

“Miss, you can’t be back here,” a roadie crew member in a headset says gruffly down at me.

Shit. I forgot my lanyard.

“Oh – no, it’s okay, I’m actually with Jack,” I point out towards Jack, who still has his head bowed over his guitar, conferencing with Matt.

“Yeah, I’ll bet you are,” he retorts sarcastically. “That’s what they a ll say. Let’s go,” he barks and puts a hand on my back, trying to lead me away.

“No, you don’t–”

“Back off, man.” A voice comes from behind the roadie-douche, and he turns to reveal Josh approaching, actually pretty close to getting in his face. The asshole falters, drawing his bushy eyebrows together at him. “She’s married to Krasinski,” Josh continues, nodding a head in Jack’s direction. “She belongs here.”

The man sputters, looking back and forth, and I feel the weight of all the apprehension leave my shoulders. I admit I’d been carrying around some nerves about the next time I saw Josh.

“Speaking of which,” Josh adds, eyeballing the man’s hand on my back. “That guy does not take kindly to other men laying a hand on his wife,” he finishes with a quirked eyebrow.

Roadie-douche clears his throat as he drops his hand. “My apologies, Mrs. Krasinski,” he mutters as he scurries off, and I remind myself to breathe again.

After he disappears to go look important somewhere else, I turn back to Josh and offer him a small, tentative smile in thanks. He presses his lips into a faint smirk and shoots his eyebrows up at me, as if to say anytime, before backing towards the stage to join the rest of the guys.

The guys bring the house down that night, with Jack playing harder than I’ve ever seen him, thrashing his guitar in front of an extremely receptive crowd. Afterwards I accompanied them to a rooftop after party that I have to say was fun and lively in the balmy night air. Despite that, however, Jack and I make an early exit.

That night we made up for a lot of lost time, but we also talked about a lot.We decided on future tours, I would stay home for the first two weeks.We learned from this experience, but it took some convincing on Jack’s part. After some reasoning, he finally conceded that it was important for him and the other guys t o focus on being a band during that time, and get a road routine down before I join them. Even though it was hard, it was an important test for our relationship, too.And though the separation was rife with challenges, we passed.Now we know we can do it, and the next time won’t be as painful. He didn’t like the idea, but agreed it was better than going through the same thing again.

Next, we agreed on only doing after parties a max of three nights a week while on tour.The other nights, the other bands and managers would just have to understand that we needed our time together.

And finally, we decided not to pay attention to any gossip stories, and talk to each other when something was printed that had been blown out of context. If we’re always communicating, then we always know what’s going on.

The next morning, Jack and I sit in the window seat of the bus for most of the trip, plotting our ink.We still haven’t gotten tattoos together, and we thought we’d find a place at the next stop in Atlanta and use his free time to go get it done. Our wedding date was September 9 th , so we’re thinking of getting something with 9/9 integrated into it.

That following afternoon, we go into a tattoo parlor to get our tattoos: a 9 together with a backwards 9 so that they form a heart, with the words Only Ours , from the song Jack wrote me in script below it – both on the inside of our wrists. Call me cliché and cheesy, but there is something about the painful sting of etching our connection into our skin together that brought our intimacy to a new level, a sentiment that was brashly interrupted when we came out of the parlor to find a horde of photographers waiting for us.

Cameras click and questions are shouted, and I’m thankful for sunglasses as Jack puts a protective arm around me, taking us in brisk strides towards the waiting SUV.

“Jack, is this your wife or another groupie?” one of the idiots yells as a sizable bodyguard is all of a sudden at my other side, shield ing me. He hustles us to the back passenger door of the SUV that’s already open for us, and I slide in quickly, with Jack right behind me.

With a good block between us and the photographers, Jack and I both let out a breath as his head drops back on the head rest.

“It’s only going to get worse,” the driver informs us, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Any place that’s not New York or L.A. is going to be crazy for you guys.”

I take a moment to absorb that dose of reality. “So… back home?” I look to Jack to help me out with what we’re going to do here. We live in a little house on a crowded street, while his band gains more crazed fans by the minute. “Jack, I don’t want to move, not yet. We just stunned our families by getting married to someone both sides barely knew, and then took off to come on tour. I don’t want to just up and leave across the country on them, too.”

“Me, neither.” He looks at me solemnly and reaches his hand across the seat to thread his fingers with mine. “We’ll figure it out, baby. In fact, there’s something I was waiting to tell you until later,” he straightens up.

I give him my eyes so he knows I’m listening.

“Our first royalty check came in,” he softly announces. “It’s… big.”

I feel my lips part open at this new piece of information.

He draws in a breath and crinkles his forehead. “Big enough to put a down payment on a piece of property – back home – that might offer us some privacy. It wouldn’t have to be obscenely big, but enough that we wouldn’t have neighbors right on top of us.”

“Are – are you serious?” I feel my next breath stall in my chest.

“I know it’s going to take some getting used to.” He shakes his head and stares off for a second before looking back to me and lifting his eyebrows when he sees the pinch between my eyebro ws. “We’ll be smart, baby, don’t worry. But this money could help us if we want to stay near family.”

I absently nod. “Just… wow.”

“Tell me about it,” he chuckles while looking out the window for a minute. “And apparently it’s going to keep coming for a while.”

“What?” I snap my head in his direction again.

“Well, I was going to wait to tell you until after tonight’s show, but…” He gets a grin on his face like a kid who’s finally been given permission to share a secret. “We had a conference call with Ron this morning while you were in the bunk on your computer. ECHO wants to sign us.”

My entire oxygen supply tries to escape out of my lungs but gets caught in my throat in a tight ball of air.

“They’re signing you?! What?!” I try not to shriek in the tight confines of the vehicle, inching closer to Jack instead.

“ECHO wants to move forward and do an album.” This time my jaw drops and my eyes widen to their limits. I probably look ridiculous.

I shake my head with my mouth still hanging open. I have no words. I just stare at him in amazement.

“You did it,” I finally choke out.His smile is shy and modest as he nods his head at me, his eyes only part way open, looking at me through his lashes.“Oh my God,” I say, cupping my hands over my mouth, so the words sound muffled.I put my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his soft white t-shirt against my cheek as I breathe him in. My soul is swelling with warmth and joy as his arms come around me, his face nestling into my neck. This is monumental, and his happiness means so much to me. He deserves every bit of it. “I’m so happy for you, and I’m so proud of you.”

“You helped.”

“Jaaack,” I say on his shoulder.

“Maaaze,” he responds. “Argue all you want. You don’t know all the ways you helped make this h appen.”

“You wrote the songs. You play the music. You’re the one who goes crazy on stage.”

“You gave it new meaning.”

“Nope. Sorry. This is all you. OH!” I gasp. “And the guys!”

As if by divine intervention, this is when the SUV pulls up into the city of buses, and when it comes to a stop in front of ours, I push out the door and make a mad dash to its front door.

Like it or not, these guys are getting assaulted by congratulatory hugs.

Turns out, the unwanted invasion of photographers is just one of the adjustments we have to make in this new life. The fans can be just as bad, if not worse. Some of them are downright mean, and some are just plain crazy, as Erin explains later that day as we walk from the buses to the stadium.

The Shock Wave decided to add a song to their set where they bring Turn it Up on stage to join them, and we’re excited to see them rehearse it. We’re walking up a path leading to the stage that has been cordoned off, with venue staff stationed along it.There are fans gathered around, hoping to catch a glimpse of anyone from either of the bands.As Erin and I approach, I see some frowns immediately take place on some of the female fans’ faces.

“Get ready for some serious tongue-lashing,” she says, without breaking stride. “Don’t react, and smile as big as you can. They hate that shit,” she grins. She’s got years of experience with this and I trust her, so I follow her lead, smiling like I don’t have a care in the world.Sure enough, noise and commotion elevate as we get closer, and a variety of colorful words are shouted out.We’re whores, we’re gold diggers, and we’re not good enough for such hot, successful guys. Oh, and one fan is apparently carrying George’s love child.Erin smiles and waves throug h all of it, making some faces turn seriously red with rage as security holds them back. I do the same, as I’m told I’m a bitch. Before we know it, we’re through the open area and are obscured by the side of the amphitheater we’re walking behind.

“You’re right, that was fun,” I say, sharing a giggle with her as we make our way backstage.

“And when you can help it, smile for the paps too. Not necessarily at them, but when you know they’re there.Looking happy gives them nothing to work with.” Jeez, she’s a goldmine. I don’t know what I’m going to do when the bands aren’t on tour together anymore. She and George have settled in L.A., since that’s where the label’s home base is.I wonder if Jack and I will eventually have to do that, too. I don’t like the idea, but that’s our life now – at least if things keep going the way they’re going.

The tour continues to take us up the eastern seaboard, and I’m looking forward to seeing the shows in NYC and Boston.For the most part, the schedule is busy, but predictable. Predictable in the sense that it’s still totally unpredictable. The guys are constantly tired, but they roll with it. When they’re gone, I hang out with Erin, or I spend time writing.

The shows in NYC and Boston are like nothing I could’ve imagined.The crowds in those cities were bigger than any of the other shows I’d been to, and the guys were totally feeding off it during their performances.Jack’s crazy stage personality seemed to come up a notch or two, and the rest of them followed suit. I’d been to concerts in the past, but before I saw the other side of it, I never realized how much give and take there is between a musical act and their audience. I found myself screaming and jumping around backstage whenever I’d see the guys getting fired up,and holy hell, did it lead to some amazing after-show nookie.

Erin and I have become closer than ever, and she and I have fun getting dolled up before shows.It also gives us both someone to cling to at the after parties when the guys have to schmooze.

While in New York, Ron hijacked the guys and pulled them into the studio to record Breakthrough. It was convenient, and the label wanted it ready as the next single.

Erin had also emphasized to me during one of our many chats that it’s important that I have something, too, besides just being Jack’s cheerleader, and I couldn’t agree more. While she enjoys modeling and charity work, I by no means have put my writing or dance aspirations on hold. Since we’ve pushed through the difficult beginning, I’ve been inspired, and have been working on something not work-related; but it would be cool if it could be one day. I just want to get used to the idea myself before sharing it with anyone.