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“That’s a wrap!” Jack, the sound check master, yelled from across the stage.
Roman nodded in acknowledgment, along with Asher who was standing right next to him. Jack relished in his responsibilities of sound check equipment manager, often labeling himself as the master of his craft. He did an impeccable job, much more astute and responsible than that asshole loser the band had done at the beginning of the last tour during the American leg. Grant Pierce had been Emelia’s boyfriend. How the times had changed. Now she was engaged to his best friend, Trevor.
Roman found himself daydreaming about owning his own little slice of heaven in the domesticated world. If he were ever going to even entertain the plausible outcome of ending up with a woman that he would even consider marrying, that woman would be Chloe.
His bones had a wavy sensation tremble through them whenever he thought about seeing Chloe, a blushing bride with a gorgeous bronzed tan that contrasted against her beautiful, long flowing, white wedding gown.
Roman wasn’t there yet, ready to stand at the altar and watch her slowly walk to him. Into his arms. Into his entire life.
He had taken a few baby steps to at least wonder about the subject, even hover over it for several minutes at a time. He cared for Chloe, but he still wanted to take things at a slow pace.
But he wasn’t quite to the point where he would say he was ready to take the plunge and dive directly into the sea of commitment with Chloe, as incredible, independent and sassy as she was.
Speaking of his new girlfriend, Roman glanced around the arena. Chloe usually sat off to the side with Emelia. He scanned the area, searching for her. Often, they would pick an empty pair of seats to plant themselves in and would gossip, kicking their legs over the empty seats in front of them. Occasionally Roman would glance in their direction and find them laughing or sharing treats like Starbursts or Mike and Ike’s.
They were best friends, two peas in a pod. They were a perfect balance and compliment to each other. Emelia had dark chestnut hair and creamy white skin. Chloe had tan skin and almost platinum blonde hair. Emelia was calm and easy going. Chloe was tantric and zesty, always keeping Roman on his toes.
He couldn’t wait until the tour ended when he would finally be able to snag some efficient downtime with her. He couldn’t wait to get to know her even more than he was already doing on tour.
There were just too many factors in the way, too many distractions with everything that entailed a world tour of this magnitude. He wanted to take Chloe out properly. He wanted to court her, to laugh with her, to pick her brain, and stay up all night making love to her. He wanted to snuggle up with her on the couch and fall asleep watching a movie with her.
He wanted to stay up half the night exchanging war stories. He wanted to make his famous mac-n-cheese for her or take her to his favorite ice hockey spot on the lake. He wanted to be her best friend, but he felt like he was always racing against the clock as if there were never enough hours in the day to achieve everything he wanted to accomplish with her. He knew there was time for that if he just allowed the universe to unfold their relationship at the rate he wanted it to go.
“Hey,” he nudged Colton as he approached him behind the stage.
“What’s up?” Colton gave him a nod in acknowledgment, running a hand through his thick, jet black hair.
“Have you seen Chloe anywhere?” Roman had that little niggling sensation that something was up. The last time he felt that way, Stephanie had been killed and it wasn’t sitting well.
He watched as Emelia talked to Trevor and Matt, the guy in charge of lighting for the tour. They were standing just off the stage by the front row seats. Roman’s heart leaped through his chest, anticipating seeing Chloe walk through the area or reveal herself from behind a corner any minute.
It didn’t happen.
“I haven’t seen her.” Colton shrugged casually as he began to walk off towards the direction of his dressing room. “I’ll be on the lookout though.”
“Thanks,” Roman called back, but he didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice.
He couldn’t pinpoint a reason, but a shaky rattling began to tug at the corners of his mind. He knew something was displaced. He instinctively reached into his back pocket where he normally kept his cell phone, but to his confusion, it wasn’t there.
Roman touched his front pockets, feeling around. All he found was his wallet. Where the hell was it? He never went anywhere without his phone. He hopped back up on stage, checked around the drums and the length of the stage, in case it had fallen out of his pocket.
Crouching down, he fumbled around the perimeter of the drum set, but he couldn’t locate his phone anywhere.
“Um, what are you doing?” Asher chuckled as he approached Roman, pretending to kick him but pulling his leg back before actually going through with it.
Call my cell phone,” he grunted.
“Why?”
“I can’t find it.” Roman threw his arms up over his head in frustration.
Asher had already retrieved his phone from his own pocket and began dialing Roman’s number. He held the device to his ear. “It’s ringing,” he declared.
Both Asher and Roman stood silent and still for a moment or two, both listening for the ring of Roman’s phone that never came.
“I don’t hear anything,” Asher stated the obvious.
Roman frowned. “Me either.”
“Maybe you left it in your dressing room?” Asher suggested.
“Fuck!” Roman expelled an exasperated puff of air, glancing at the rafters above their heads. “I’ll go check.”
He headed to his dressing room. It was just a phone; it would turn up eventually. Maybe the ringer was off. Who the hell knew? He couldn’t honestly remember the last time he even checked the damn thing. He found the phone distracting most of the time, but it was his link to Chole when he couldn’t be with her. Now that he couldn’t find her and wanted to call and check on her, it was missing — just his damn luck.
“Hey, Roman.” He heard his assistant calling out behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder. “What is it?”
“We need you in hair and makeup in five minutes,” she instructed.
“I’ll be there,” Roman groaned. He hated going through the process. He didn’t wear makeup, but he had a team of experts who primped and pampered him and the other band members before every show. Before long, he became distracted with the issues that had to be taken care of before the show. After a quick check of his dressing room with no luck, he headed back to the stage. He was out of time. The missing phone would have to wait. He glanced around as he walked. Where the hell was Chloe? The unease in his gut grew, but he pushed it down. He had to. He had a show to perform.
By the time the band had belted out their routine good luck chant, Chloe still hadn’t appeared. Roman had an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach as if he had swallowed a lead balloon whole and it was just sitting in his stomach, weighing him down.
As he heard the screams of excitement from the crowd behind the stage, the adrenaline surged through him like usual. He hoped that Chloe had just been busy catching up on work and that she’d tried to reach him. Since his cell phone was still missing, it was a practical and plausible explanation as to why she hadn’t been able to get in touch with him yet.
The vibrations from the audience were infectious and shook him to the core. The fans were always his mental motivator, giving him a push to surge through even on those bleak nights where he felt too exhausted to even put one foot in front of the other. Some nights, he was barely able to get through a sound check, but as soon as the music started to play, as soon as he looked into the eyes of the thousands of shouting, adoring fans, all his concerns melted away.
Tonight, was no different. Roman was in his element in a matter of seconds, aggressively pounding away on the drums while he initiated quite a substantial sweat in the process. He glanced around the crowd for Chloe, but the lights were too bright.
The crowd was going wild. If Chloe was out there, he couldn’t find her.
After the show, a sweaty, sore mess, Roman headed to his dressing room where a cold shower was on his horizon. He stumbled into Trevor as he trudged down the hallway. Trevor looked torn to bits.
The show had done a number on all of them but in one of the best ways possible. The most emotional and raw shows were the ones where the fans sucked all the life from the guys. Roman loved it, craved the sensation and couldn’t wait to experience it again. After a hard night’s sleep.
“I’m heading for the showers,” Roman mentioned in casual passing as Trevor hobbled past him. Sweat was pouring down both of their faces, their hair a disheveled wreck.
“Same here,” Trevor could barely speak, his voice was a raspy and hoarse croak by this time of the night.
“Catch you in the morning, man,” Roman said as he gave his best friend a salute in farewell.
“See ya,” Trevor cast a wave over his shoulder.
Roman unlocked the door to his dressing room, yawned and tossed his sweat towel onto the plush velvet black couch in the corner by the door. He wandered around the room, still attempting to search for his phone. Giving up, he figured he must have left it back at the hotel room.
He wanted to rush through his shower so that he could get back there and figure out any other clues that would lead him to Chloe. He hoped that he’d find her there, waiting for him with a valid explanation as to why she had been a no show. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to have his Red Bull and Reese’s peanut butter cup before the concert.
It was a ritual that he normally couldn’t go without, but tonight he had been too distracted to fuss over those routine treats. Chloe was usually the person who provided the snacks to him, but since she was nowhere to be found, neither was the Red Bull or Reese’s.
After a cold shower and a fresh change of clothes, Roman wandered out into the hallway, hoping that some of the band members would still be lingering around that he could catch a ride with. Without a phone, he felt cut off from the rest of society as if a part of his body had been detached. Unless he found his assistant or someone else, he might be trekking back to the hotel on foot.
Worry began to slice at his mind, robbing him of the euphoric afterglow of the concert. Where the hell was Chloe? It wasn’t like her to blow him off if he could even consider that to be what happened.
Something in his brain kept gnawing at him. Something just wasn’t right. There was a missing piece to this puzzle. He walked out into the lobby of the arena, stumbling onto Lucas who was getting ready to slip into a waiting town car.
“Hey man, wait up!” Roman called out, stopping Lucas before he could leave without him. Roman considered it to be a lucky break that he found Lucas. He could only hope that his luck would continue when he reached his hotel room later.
“Need a ride?” Lucas grinned.
“Yep.” Roman jogged over to catch up with Lucas. He asked Lucas to call his phone again. It rang, going right to voicemail. Good. At least the battery wasn’t dead. Yet. It had to be at the hotel room, waiting for him right along with his girlfriend.
Roman smiled. That would be the ideal scenario, Chloe lying on the bed in a sheer, lacy nighty, his phone on the nightstand. Shit, he didn’t even care about the phone.
He just wanted Chloe.