The Biker's Fate Chapter 493

Melody

FanFest is one of my favorite parts of every tour. I always look forward to connecting with the self-proclaimed "Morganites" who gather from all around the country. Some of them even travel from other countries. Meeting my listeners face-to-face means everything to me, and I use each encounter as fuel on the days when I feel I have nothing left in the tank.

The grand ballroom of the Albuquerque Hilton Hotel was in full swing as this tour's Fan Appreciation Day entered into its second hour. Legendary DJ Swineface kept the dance floor bumpin' and Vick kept the crowd entertained as the event's MC. Morganites mixed and mingled, competed in trivia games, shared artwork, bootleg recordings, even fan fiction. It was always exhilarating and humbling to see how invested in my music my listeners were. These were the people I wrote my songs for, and today was the day I got to look them in the eyes and tell them so.

The line to my meet and greet booth snaked around the perimeter of the ballroom and out the door. I glanced at my watch. Five minutes before my first scheduled break and it couldn't come soon enough. I'd been pounding water all day and I needed to pee so bad my eyeballs were floating. Plus, my hand was starting to cramp from signing autographs and I was hoping Train would massage it for me. Really, any excuse for him to touch me at this point was fine with me. I could feel myself being drawn closer and closer to him with each passing day. Time spent away from him getting harder for me to manage.

While I waited for Brandy to usher the next group of fans to the table, I scanned the crowd, stopping on a pretty teenage girl standing completely still at the edge of the dance floor. Her total lack of movement causing her to stand out in an otherwise sea of frenetic energy. Her skin was pale, and her blonde hair hung down past her shoulders. She was wearing a t-shirt from my Rage tour and her face was stuck in a permanent half smile that sent chills down my spine. Thinking perhaps she was shy or maybe a little starstruck, I waved hello to her, but she remained motionless.

Brandy leaned in, pulling my attention away from the girl. "Just a few more autographs and we'll take a break."

"Sure," I said. Looking, but no longer seeing the creepy blonde anywhere.

I finished up with the last few signings, and Brandy signaled to Vick.

"Okay all you mega maniacal Melody Morganites, let me hear you make some noise!" Vick's voice boomed through the PA system, and the crowd went wild. "I think you can do better than that fan fest family!" he shouted, and they yelled even louder. "Melody is gonna take a quick break, but don't worry she'll be back soon. In the meantime, Swineface is gonna keep this party moving."

While MC Vick was instructing the crowd, I slipped through the pipe and drape and headed down the hallway towards our private lounge. As I walked down what was supposed to be a secured corridor, I swore I saw the same blonde girl from before pass through the intersecting hallway ahead, but by the time I got there, she was nowhere in sight.

I made it to the lounge and found one of Chip's team posted at the door.

"Have you seen a girl with blonde hair in this hallway?" I asked.

"No, Ma'am."

"Hmmmm. She probably got lost. Keep an eye out for her just in case, would ya?"

"Yes, of course ma'am."

I opened the lounge door to find Train, Puddin, and a motorcycle. Or should I say, most of a motorcycle.

"What's this?" I asked.

"That's most of a motorcycle," Train said.

"Sorry, love. It's mine," Puddin' said. "Train here is helpin' me get her road worthy again."

"I'm aware of all that, Puddin', I okayed the detour to your ex-wife's," I reminded him. "What I want to know is why is it in my greenroom?"

"We couldn't find another quiet place to work. We thought you'd be out there a little longer," Train said, pointing his wrench at the door.

"I'm on break. I came in here to pee," I said, reminding my bladder of its current state. "Oh, my god. I have to pee." I flew into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

By the time I got out Puddin' and Train had gathered up their tools and were wheeling the bike out the back door.

"No, no, no. You don't have to go. I was just surprised to see you. To see it, I mean. The motorcycle. That's all," I said, nervously stumbling over my words.

Puddin' looked at me and then at Train.

"Oh, I see. Say no more," he said, grinning.

"It's not like that, Puddin'," I said.

"A nod's as good as a wink, love," he replied with a tip of his imaginary cap. "I'll just leave you two alone for a moment, shall I?" he said and walked out the door.

"Great, now Puddin' thinks you and I are fucking," I said.

"We are fucking," Train said.

"I know, but he's not supposed to know."

"So, what if he knows? Who cares?"

"In my experience, once one person knows something about my private life, it's only a matter of time before everyone knows."

"Would it be so bad if everyone knew?"

"Well, it wouldn't just be bad for me, it would be bad for you. Trust me, you don't want to be in the crosshairs of the media. They are brutal. It would simply be better for the both of us if we kept this thing between us under wraps for now."

"Sure. Whatever you say," Train said.

"Please, don't be upset."

"I'm not upset. But I don't plan on sneaking around forever. I live my life exactly the way I want to, and if anyone doesn't like it, they can kiss my ass."

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Court. Seriously. I just don't want you to feel sideswiped by my life."

He cupped my chin. "I've got a handle on you and your life, Wart. It's you that's in a constant state of worry."

I blinked up at him. "So you haven't been scared off yet?"

He chuckled. "Not even a little bit."

"Well, can I keep you to myself a little while longer?" I asked, leaning against him. "At least try to keep the media at bay until the end of the tour, maybe?"

"Yeah, baby, we can." He wrapped his arms around me. "How you holdin' up?"

"I'm good." I smiled up at him, flattening my palms against his chest. "The fans are amazing. I just kind of need a hand transplant… or maybe a little massage?"

"My hands are dirty," he replied.

I raised an eyebrow. "Then I'll just have to get dirty with you."

He grinned, guiding me to the sofa before taking my hand, and kissing the palm before beginning to rub it.

"Oh my god, yes, right there," I moaned out.

"You sound almost like you do when you come," Train observed.

I grinned. "Well, you are magic with your hands. I can't help it."

He rolled his eyes, continuing to work out my tension. "I'm gonna come out and hang with you for the rest of the day."

"You don't have to," I said. "Keep helping Puddin' with his bike. I'm good."

"While you were in the bathroom, Chip radioed you saw some strange girl?"

I sighed. "I'm sure she's just shy. You don't need to come out there. Seriously. Chip's got it covered."

"How about I walk you back to the table, then come get you before your next break. And I'll take you back up to the room when you're done," he said. "If you see her again while you're signing, tell Chip to get me and I'll come hang with you."

I smiled, dropping my head on his shoulder. "I would love that."

"Five minutes," Chip's voice crackled over Train's walkie.

"I'm gonna go wash this grease off my hands and freshen up a little," I said, kissing Train quickly.