Idlewile

Chapter One

IDLEWILE

By Harper Kingsley

CHAPTER ONE

He'd been munching on crackers to try and settle his upset stomach, but now the wardrobe woman was scolding him and Mingh was giving him the stink eye. It just seemed as though there was no way he could possibly win.

"What were you thinking?" Mingh's arms were crossed tight against her chest and her mouth looked angry and pinched. "Eating a bunch of crackers right before you're expected to sing wasn't exactly the brightest thing you've ever done."

Idle flopped backward in the makeup chair, ignoring Mary's upset squawking as she jerked the makeup brush away from his face. "My stomach feels horrible, I think I'm getting the flu or something. It was either eat a handful of crackers, or end up hurking on the audience. What do you think was the better choice?"

Mingh sighed heavily, as though dealing with him was really such a great trial. "How are you feeling now?"

"A little less like I'm going to be sick," he said, giving her a closed mouth smile that probably ended up looking more like a grimace.

She clicked her tongue against her teeth and glanced at her white gold and diamond watch. "There's no time for anyone to run out and get you anything. I wish you would have said something earlier, but you're on in five."

"I'll be fine," he said. "This isn't the first time I've taken to the stage when all I really wanted to do was pass out. It'll be fine."

"For some reason, your reassurances don't exactly reassure me." She shook her head, her razor cut bobbed black hair brushing her cheeks. "If you won't be able to perform, now's the time to tell me."

Idle pushed Mary's hand away from his face and stood up, tugging the blue smock off and bundling it into her arms. "I'll be fine," he said. He stepped up to the mirror and carefully examined his appearance for any obvious flaws. There were some fans out there that were just completely obsessed with getting shots of him looking stupid.

"You better be."

He examined his reflection and had to admit that he looked good, even with the ridiculous amounts of eyeliner his publicist insisted was part of his image. It made him look dramatic at least, intense in a way that wasn't natural to him.

And it deemphasized the bags he could see under his eyes. He looked like he'd just dragged himself back from a serious bender.

"I look awful," he said, tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

"Stop fishing for compliments and get your butt out there," Mingh ordered.

"So mean," he muttered, then had to dodge the swat she aimed at the back of his head. "Watch the hair!"

"You watch the hair and get your ass out there and don't screw up."

He gave her a mocking salute, then straightened his heavily studded belt and headed toward the door. "I'm a professional," he said, then pushed the door open and stepped out into the embrace of the big guys running security and let himself be led toward the stage.

Just having Mingh scold him that little bit had made him feel better. There was just something so nice about having someone that cared about him and not the image he presented. It was a reminder that under it all he was still just a guy.

Idle didn't let anything show on his face when they reached the edge of the stage and a group of VIP fans were waiting there, tossing their hair and shooting him sultry looks. He gave them a brief nod and had to fight to keep from grimacing at the squeals and the grabby hands that brushed against his back before Security slapped them away.