CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Backstage
Copyright © 2016 by Mandy Bee
Formatting Design by Pink Ink Designs
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the written permission of the authors or publishers constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the authors’ intellectual property.
If you would like to use the material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written consent must be obtained from the author
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are products of the authors’ imagination and are all used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locales or persons living
or dead, are coincidental.
WHY THE HELL am I here? Oh yeah I know why, my big brother is playing drums for ‘the greatest band ever’ Freak Street, a group I can’t stand. Chris has been playing drums for twenty five years, since he was seven. He has played in a lot of bands, but Freak Street is the biggest band to date. They are at the top of all the charts right now and are on a sold out world tour. Their drummer is now in jail for something to do with guns, don’t know why and don’t care. One of the managers knew Chris and asked if he could pack up and join the tour. Now here I am backstage, in one of the dressing rooms trying not to scream! How am I going to get through six months of this crap?
I’m very proud of Chris, he has worked really hard to get here, and that wasn’t always easy with having me as a tag along. Our parents died ten years ago, I was seven and Chris was twenty two. I was a surprise package for my parents. Both of them were almost forty when mom found out she was pregnant with me. I remember Chris telling me about how excited he was when mom told him about her being pregnant. He helped paint my room and volunteered to baby sit whenever they needed him. He has always been the ideal old brother.
When our parents died he was granted guardianship of me. He has been trying to raise me but I basically just follow him from gig to gig. When he gets a new job they know up front that I go wherever he does, and this has been hard on him too. A few bands turned him down because of me. He has done his best with trying to raise me and even home schooled me until I took the early graduation test a few months ago. I passed with an almost perfect score. I could be in college right now if I wanted to go but I don’t want to leave Chris, I couldn’t stand to be that far away from him.
“Flower!” I hear Chris yell from down the hall. That’s my name Flower Rose Marshall.
“I’m right here, where you left me!” I yell back. I’m so glad the show is over. I want to get on that bus and sleep.
“Hey, we have to go to a party that is being thrown by whoever paid for tonight’s show. You are going but you are not drinking, and I better be able to see you at all times.” He barks at me as he walks in the room.
“Can’t I just go to the bus? These dumb after parties are nothing but drunken women trying to get with anyone in the band.” I know Chris has done a few girls in the past, while he was touring with another group, I don’t think he knows that I am aware of this.
“I’m sorry but no, I need you at the party with me.” He walks over and sits beside me on the couch. “I know it is hard on you being out on the road with me, but this is my first show with them and I need to be comfortable with everyone before I let you go anywhere alone. Plus we are going to be with them for six months, so please try to be nice. Who knows you may end up liking some of them, they aren’t as bad as you have made them out to be.” He grabs some clothes and goes to take a shower. This arena not only has enough dressing rooms for each guy to have his own they also have a full bathroom connected to each room. Well at least I won’t have to smell what I call ‘band sweat’ tonight. If he thinks I’m changing out of my jeans and Duke University hoodie then he is wrong. I’m not dressing up for these losers.
“Where is the party?” I yell at the door once I hear the water stop.
“In one of the suites across the street.” He yells back. I roll my eyes. The hotel he is talking about is the type of hotel only the mega rich stay at.
“Fine, but you know I’m just going to sit there with my earbuds in the whole time.” I bring my knees up to my chest and hug my legs closer to me. I hate going to parties, I hate trying to talk to people, I would rather just be alone. I guess you could call me a loner. I have only one friend and that’s Chris. We move around too much for me to make any real friends so I just keep to myself. And my health doesn’t make it any easier for me to make friends.
I was born with bad lungs, I get chest colds all the time. It was only last year that the doctors finally found out what was wrong. I have chronic bronchitis and cough variant asthma, two diseases that fight against my lungs, right now my lungs are losing. The doctors give me cough syrup, pain pills, and
