Hayley didn’t like cold,bossy men. They reminded her too much of her father.
Still, Bryce’s coldness felt like an act, like he were forcing himself to be stern and distant. Hayley shook her head. She only wished he hadn’t actually been that cold, because she’d wanted him to be friendly. Open. Into her. It had been so long since she’d held hands with someone or kissed anyone. Her whole life had become recording and touring and performing. Press junkets. Interviews.
She hardly had time to write anymore and didn’t know how she would finish the second album Michael was pushing her to complete - she only had one song right now. She’d manage to finish the lyrics she’d begun penning when she first saw Bryce, and tentatively titled it “Perfect Strangers”. Her lyrics were wistful; it was about falling in love with a stranger who seemed to be straight out of her dreams. But she was unable to get close enough to find out if he was real or if she was still dreaming.
She’d play it for Mia first to gauge if it was any good. Even if Mia didn’t like it, it felt good to finish a song for the first time in months.
“Last sound check,” Michael poked his head into the dressing room. “Ready?”
Hayley nodded. She applied lip balm, before following Michael through the labyrinth of backstage halls. When she arrived at the stairs and climbed to the stage, the wood floor was busy with lighting technicians and road crew getting ready for the night.
Hayley picked up her guitar and strummed, warming up her fingers, when she heard arguing off stage. She turned to see Michael and Bryce in a heated discussion, their voices carrying out into the venue. Hayley’s patience waned and she strode across the stage.
“What’s going on?” she asked, trying to sound calm despite her internal frustrations at the noise.
“There needs to be security in three places: the front and sides. That’s bare minimum,” Bryce explained.
“There’s no room,” Michael argued. “Those seats are sold.”
“They can stand.”
“They’ll block the stage.”
“She’s too exposed,” Bryce said. “It’s dangerous.”
“Exposed to what?” Michael scoffed. “This is a VIP crowd. No one is going to pick her up and carry her off. You can post men at the doors to be sure.”
“If you care about her, you’ll stop interfering,” Bryce said, straightening so he stood taller than Michael.
“Of course I care,” Michael snapped, uncharacteristically. “As does Hayley. She cares about her fans. She doesn’t want those beefy guys staring down some tween girls.”
Michael gestured at the men Steve and Nash had brought in, who were now lurking in the back of the room.
Bryce balled his fists. “Don’t you get it? It’s not all little girls. I combed through the ticket holder list. Her stalker could be in there.” Bryce realized what he said only after it was too late.
“Stalker?” Hayley asked, “What stalker? What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, honey,” Michael put a hand on her arm.. “Some creep sending you emails.”
“What emails?” Hayley demanded.
“Emails to your fan account,” Bryce reluctantly confirmed. “And other things. Including those text messages. If you’re not going to take your own safety seriously right now, you should know this.” He hoped this didn’t get back to Linda. He didn’t want her to dislike him after he had made a good first impression.
“Wait - what text messages?” Michael turned back to face Bryce, looking surprised. “Hayley, what have you been hiding from me?”
“They were stupid messages,” Hayley explained haltingly, before her eyes widened and she looked at Bryce. “Do you think they were from this…stalker?”
“The man – person – who sent the text messages,” Bryce said. “You’ve received other correspondence from him as well, like emails and tweets. There’s reason to believe he’s the one who intercepted your car in an attempt to abduct you. This is why I implore you to take our concerns about your safety more seriously.”
Bryce could see the fear manifest in Hayley’s expression and he wished he could wrap his arms around her and tell her it’d be all right. He shifted his weight on his feet, fighting his own desire. He couldn’t hug this woman – she was a client. She was already scared of unwanted advances from a stranger, and here he was, wishing to do the same thing. He locked his jaw and forced his mouth into a straight line, using all the effort he had to hide his feelings.
“I haven’t heard anything about emails or tweets.” Hayley said slowly. “Where are they going? No one kidnapped me at the accident. The other driver ran off -”
“-Because a police officer happened to pull up,” Bryce interrupted. “This isn’t the time to have this conversation. The point is you need to let us do our job. Understand?”
Hayley looked between Michael and Bryce, hoping one of them would suddenly say they were joking about this whole stalker thing. No dice. Her stomach knotted and she scanned backstage for a trash can, in case she suddenly got sick.
“You okay?” Michael asked. The fight seemed to have gone out of him, now that Hayley knew the truth. There was only care and concern etched all over his face. “Do you want to sit down?”
