Speak Now & Surprises [Hunter Hayes fanfic]

Chapter 21

I looked over my shoulder at Austin and the nameless man I had just snapped at. They were both filling the awkward silence by looking at their mobile phones - typical. Austin finished whatever he was doing on his mobile and looked directly at me. My phone buzzed in my pocket

‘So just ditch me then, thanks a lot – Austin’ I sighed.

‘How was I meant to sit there and converse with that idiot! – Shelby’ I typed back furiously, enraged that Austin was annoyed with me. I decided to let out some steam by playing ping-pong with a mom-type woman. I previously hadn’t noticed the ping-pong table as it was concealed beneath a colourful sash. Somebody must’ve removed it and handed out some bats.

“Wow, you’re really going for it!” my opponent laughed. She had a deep, throaty laugh and was a little overweight. Wait, why was I judging her on looks? I didn’t even know her.

Annoyed at myself, I picked up a conversation with her.

“Yeah, it’s been so stressful, planning out this tour and everything...” I lied to cover my anger.

“No way! You’re the tour manager?” she said in disbelief, mid ping-pong. I nodded proudly. At least she was taking my career seriously.

“How old are you? Twenty? Twenty-one?” she guessed.

“Nineteen.” I replied, shaking my head. She looked absolutely gobsmacked.

“How on earth did you manage to land yourself a job in this industry straight out of high school?” she exclaimed. I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her. She must’ve been at least mid-forties, got some kids, probably not the best paying job – and here I was, fresh from high school earning what she did in a month in just a matter of days. So I told her my biggest kept secret since eighth grade.

“I used to DJ for some local clubs.” I admitted in a hushed voice. “Once word got around the clubs that there was a 13-year-old girl who was pretty good at DJ’ing and didn’t mind the low pay I became desired by every club in the state of California.”

“But where did you learn to DJ?” she asked, bewildered.

“I used to listen to remixes on YouTube then try to replicate them myself on Audacity. One day, my friend’s parents privately hired a club for her birthday party. At the end of the party the DJ was packing up and I asked if he could show me how to DJ. I already knew what to listen for as I’d replicated so many remixes before. I made friends with the DJ and he gave me lessons every Saturday morning before the club opened. Then they employed me.”

“You say employed with quotation marks?” she asked.

“Yeah, they didn’t pay me. And when they did it was barely anything. I think that first club I DJ’d at went bust a few years back actually.” I mused, thinking of how I’d hated the neon lights there. Always much too bright compared to the other clubs. I suppose that was why everybody that went there was a bad dancer.

“Whenever bands visited the clubs I worked at I’d get part of the night off. I’d usually spend my free time there talking to their tour manager, because I was too young to go into the bar part of the club or onto the dance floor. I made friends with a guy who managed Avril Lavigne’s Bonez Tour back in two thousand and five. He came to my local clubs a lot.”

“I loved Avril Lavigne, before she went all scene and emo.” She gasped ecstatically. The words seemed so odd coming from a woman in her mid-forties. “Did you get to meet Avril?!”

“Yeah a couple times actually. She never really said much to me, or acted like she noticed me.” I replied, remembering Avril Lavigne’s cold ignorance towards me whenever I’d smiled at her. Who had I been back then, but a little irrelevant teen who thought she could DJ?

“That guy was the one who hooked me up with the company I’m employed to now. They set me up to manage different artist’s tours. I probably have one of the coolest jobs in the world.”

“I’ll bet.” She said enviously.

“Hey sister!” Grant greeted me in his jokey high pitched voice. I turned around to see the Agency and the Residents file in, the pause of the T-Party members as they recognized them, and began to ask for pictures.

“Hey Grant.” I replied. There was something about Grant made you feel like all your worries were gone. Was it the mischievous smile or the punk rock hair that seemed to clash but blend?

Perky blonde Claire appeared on his shoulder, looking sadly at me. I raised my eyes above my tortoiseshell Ray Bans.

“How’s your eye?” she whispered. Oh Claire.

“It’s fine, honestly guys.” I assured them, noticing that Grant had mirrored Claire’s expression. “Hunter just got you all worried.” I insisted, backing into something solid and much too high to be the ping-pong table...

“You got me worried.” The rich voice flowed into my head like milk and honey.

“I’m fine, Hunter. I promise.” I told him steadily, making sure our eyes never broke contact. All I really wanted was a few kisses and goodnight, but not with everybody here, especially not the man I’d spoken to earlier.

“Our Fearless Leader!” Amos hollered across the room. I turned to the door just in time to see Taylor dancing there, and all the T-Party members run across screaming to her.

I couldn’t tell what she loved more: performing or fans.

Or the cheese and ham sandwich at McCreary’s.