My Life in Black and Blue

Chapter One: The Call

The music was loud, it was always loud but Dean wouldn't have it any other way. This was a rock concert, after all; the kind of concert meant to make your ears ring and make you love it. This was the music I had listened to all my life, not by any personal preference or choice other than being in Dean's life.

Dean was my boy next door and I was his buddy, living in that semi-limbo-esque place where I wasn't really a girl and I wasn't really one of the guys -to be one of the guys it was required to play a musical instrument but I could barely carry a tune – but I was in the inner circle, keeping Dean's schedule, life and career running smoothly.

Again, this was not a personal choice, it wasn't my life's dream to be a rock star's personal assistant, I just happened to be standing in the wings when fame hit.

Much as I was standing in the wings that night, like many others, ready to do whatever needed to be done to make this performance memorable. Watching Dean's band was not just a concert, it was an event and I was there to make it happen.

I was wiggling my toes inside my nurse-shoes – ugly as hell but comfortable enough for me to be on my feet for hours and hours – when Dean and the band came rushing off the stage.

"How was it?" Dean asked anxiously while I handed him a cup of lukewarm lemon and honey tea to help soothe his throat, he grimaced as he drank, Dean had never been a fan of tea but it was good for his voice.

"It rocked my world," I said dutifully, talking loud to be heard over the applause and calls for an encore. "Now, go rock theirs socks one last time and we are done."

Dean nodded and gave me the cup back before rushing back into the stage with the band, one last time.

As they began to play one of their first hit singles – a huge crowd pleaser – I yelled into my radio. "Places everyone! Last set in progress. Get decoy cars ready to go in 25 minutes. Clean up starting in 5! Get moving!"

The last note trembled off Dean's guitar and the thousands of fans screamed his name and I allowed myself to feel tired and weary, letting my body feel the moment of exhaustion and self-pity for I knew that the concert might be over but it would be hours before my day was done.

"Tess! Come on!" Dean yelled as he ran by me once more, prompting the security team to start moving.

As I began to walk toward the dressing rooms, I began to do a mental run of my to-do list for the night: Make sure Dan didn't forget his shoes (again), check that they packed all of the pieces in Keith's drums, and more such little details that my little rock stars could never seem to remember on their own.

It was a good hour before I went to retrieve the guys from the dressing rooms, the decoy cars had left a good half-an hour ago and the fans had finally dispersed so it was safe to leave without problems. We would be catching a plane back to L.A. in a couple of hours and we had to get going if we wanted to make a burger run – a Black Hawk tradition – before getting to the airport.

"Time to go! Chop, chop, chop!" I yelled as I threw open the door of Dean's dressing room, where the guys gathered when they were ready.

"One day, just to spite you, we are going to hang around naked." Keith, the drummer extraordinaire said.

"I've seen you all naked at some point or another. Remember the Drunkfest of 2005?"

"Haven't been able to eat a hotdog since." Dan, the bass player, said and I knew why. Let me just say that watching them skinny-dipping and stinking drunk hadn't been the low point of that day.

"Neither have I." I said morosely. "But now, get moving." I added.

We had our patterns, Dean, Dan, Keith, Rick and Spike (real name Theodore) and me had been together most of our lives. We grew up in the same small town half an hour away from Baltimore, Dean and I lived on the same street and knew the others from school, the guys had formed the band roughly 12 years ago, during freshman year of high school.

We knew each other so well, we had our rituals and ceremonies and celebrations. One of them was the post-concert burger run. So far, we had been to diverse burger joints all over the US, most of Europe and Japan. We always went to local favorites and avoided franchises. That was why, as part of my post concert duties, I had asked the limo driver to take us to the best burger place of the city before taking us to the airport.

The place was simply called Lucca's, open 24 hrs a day since 1956. Since it was almost two in the morning, the place was almost empty, with just a couple of teenagers working at the counter. The guys went to a table big enough to accommodate us all and then I went to order for all of us since I was the only one who ever got the orders straight.

As I waited for the burgers, Dean came, all killer smile and looking too attractive for my peace of mind. He was handsome, sure, but it was more than that. His hair was the deep, rich brown of mink, his smile was just a little crooked and his features were even and strong. He had been a good looking guy since childhood but now that he was getting older there was something in the way he walked, and how he seemed to be at ease everywhere that made him even more appealing.

My breath caught as he reached me, but I had gotten good at hiding how much he affected me.

"Need help?" He asked. He was nothing if not well mannered.

"Sure," I said as one of the teenagers, a girl who's name tag indicated her name was Tina, began to pile burgers and fries into two trays. When she lifted her face to ask me if I wanted ketchup she stared at Dean and I could see the stars in her eyes.

"I want all condiments," I said and gave Dean the heavier of the two trays to carry back to the table.

Tina actually whimpered when he turned and walked away. "Is that-"

"Dean Hale, yes." I said. "Listen, let us eat in peace and I make sure they take a picture with you before we leave. I have a Polaroid camera in my bag. They'll even sign it."

"Really?" Tina said.

"Absolutely," I said.

"Okay." Tina said with a sigh.

I smiled and went to the table, where the guys were already digging in.

I was yawning by the time we were done, barely able to operate my trusty old Polaroid when the guys pilled in front of the counter with Tina and her friend Nora in the center. I took four pictures, one for each of the girls, one for Lucca's hall of fame and another for my personal archives.

By the time we got to the small private airport where our plane waited, I was falling asleep on my feet and Dean had to pick me up and carry me inside the plane because I kept tripping on my own feet. He set me on one of the plush seats and sat next to me. Their manager, Mark Owens, was already there and I knew I could trust him to take care of my boys while I passed out for the next few hours.

"We'll be home in a few hours," Dean said as he covered me with a blanket. "Rest now."

"I'm getting too old for tours." I mumbled.

Dean chuckled. "Just be glad is over for now." He said and kissed my forehead, like he had done countless times.

Exhausted as I was I still managed to hold back the tears that threatened, wishing he would kiss me for real and not as if I were still six years old and my ice cream cone had just spilled on the sidewalk. But that was my burden to bear; it was me who was in love with my best friend.

-000-

End of chapter One.