Sep. 26, 2013. House of Blues, Los Angeles, CA.
Scott
Well, that was… something.
It’s funny how some things never change; people get stuck into a role, and they never get out of it. I’d just spent the last hour and a half witnessing that fact. At a Hanson concert. They were still teen idols… minus the ‘teen’ part. Not to say they weren’t talented; they definitely knew how to play. I’d known it was true back then, and I’d just seen that it was still true. But they also knew exactly how to whip the bitches into a frenzy, especially Taylor. That guy was born to be desired. He had the look, the moves, all down to a science, and hell if it didn’t work like a fucking charm.
I looked around at the throng of sweating females, all looking like they just had a record-breaking fuck. I couldn’t believe how many there were; Bob had told me they were still pulling a hell of a crowd, but I didn’t think he’d meant standing room only. Now that the show was over, there was room to move, so I made my way to the side of the stage; a quick badge flash, and I was in. I adjusted my shades and ran a hand through my hair, mentally preparing myself. Standing in the crowd listening to these guys was one thing; facing them was a whole different challenge.
The green room was buzzing, people laughing and talking all over; I did a quick scan before making my move. There were a few buckets of beer scattered around, so I grabbed a bottle and popped the lid. I’d had to fork over an almost painful amount for the ticket and pass, but at least the booze was free. Then I saw him, leaning against a wall and sipping a brew; he looked about as happy to be here as I felt, or at least how I’d felt a couple hours earlier. He’d changed a lot since the Mmmbop days, the long flowing locks chopped short, and a few wrinkles around those trademark baby blues. Yet the fans still drooled over him, and not without good reason. He’d been an attractive teen, and now he was an attractive man. Anyone would have to be blind not to see that.
“Well well, if it isn’t Taylor Hanson, the man, the myth, the legend. All grown up and still as pretty as ever.”
He looked around for a second, before his eyes fell on me.
“Well, if it isn’t… some random guy,” he shot back, one eyebrow raised.
“Scott Moffatt.” I slipped my shades off and hung them on the front of my shirt, then held out my hand. “You’re taller than I thought.”
He stared at my hand for a second, like he thought it’d bite.
“Am I supposed to know that name?”
“My brothers and me had a band back in the day,” I explained, shrugging. “Record companies tried to compare us all the time; I think we had a lot of the same fans.”
“You… were the Canadian ones, right?”
“Yeah, that’s us. The Canadian Hanson. Trust me, we were way cooler.”
“…I’m sure you were.” He looked me up and down, one eyebrow raised, looking about as condescending as I expected.
“The Moffatts, if you didn’t remember yet.”
“I think I recall the name, vaguely. So what happened?”
“You know, shit happens. Wasn’t working out, so I split. It’s cool though; I was born to solo anyway. Just put out an EP last month, actually. You should check it out.”
“I’ll get right on that.”
I downed the rest of my beer; so what if he didn’t remember us? It wasn’t like we’d ever actually met. Still, it was a sting I was all too familiar with and frankly getting pretty sick of. We had hits, we toured the world. We had millions of fans… a decade or two ago. I could be pissed, but honestly I didn’t blame him. The solid truth was, we were a boy band that was popular during the age of boy bands, but that wasn’t who we wanted to be. And unfortunately, it was either get with the program or get out; we opted for the latter.
Whatever. I had a solo career now, and even the twins were making a name for themselves… among other things. And Dave… I didn’t really know what he was up to. I hadn’t heard from him in a while… we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms. I was young and stupid; not that I was any less stupid now, but at least I had more experience to back it up. Still, I wondered about him sometimes… But now wasn’t the time to be thinking of my brothers, not when I had my very own teen idol to play with.
“But hey, you guys are still going strong. Still leaving them wet in the aisles, eh?”
“I… I’ve never put it exactly that way.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” I snorted, backstepping to the cooler, where Zac was just cracking open a fresh bottle. I snagged it from him and handed him my empty, then moved to sit on a couch a few feet away. Taylor stared at me, jaw hanging, then looked over at his brother, who looked halfway between shocked and pissed. Taylor threw him a look, and he grabbed another bottle and stormed off.
“Dude, that was… wait, what? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” I downed half my beer, smirking at how easy it was to get him riled. “So, I read somewhere about kids at home; rock star and family man, how do you do it?” I draped an arm over the back of the couch, but he just stood there.
“So what, did you Wikipedia us or something?”
“Didn’t wanna fly in totally blind. Then what would we talk about?” I gave him a sly grin; I was starting to have fun with him, even if he wasn’t giving me shit to work with.
“Well. At least you did your homework. And yes, I do have a family. They’re all at home now, so…” He shrugged, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s not that hard. There’s home, and there’s tour.”
“Gotta keep ‘em separated,” I said, smirking. He finally decided to have a seat, granted a good distance away from me, but progress is progress.
“It’s just too much to deal with. Gets too crowded bringing everybody along.”
“How much is ‘everybody’?”
“All together? Three wives and nine kids. Two each for Zac and Ike, and five of my own.”
“Jesus!” I cursed, almost spitting out my drink. “Five?!”
“I got an early start,” he explained, eyeing me.
“I guess so. Well damn, someone’s been busy.”
“Guess you could say that.”
“You save any of that for the tour?” I laughed. I couldn’t believe he was the same age as me with five kids.
“Um, you did hear me say I was married, right?”
“Yeah? And?” I shrugged casually, but if I was honest, I was probably getting a little too interested already.
“Not like it’s any of your business,” he said, shaking his head and turning away. I just grinned; that was more of an answer than I’d expected, and it was all I needed.
“Ah, so the rock star does play… interesting. Question is, does he stick to just one team? Seems to be a lot of rumors floating in your general direction…”
“Did I say that?” he snapped, glaring at me, but the truth was all over his pretty face.
“Didn’t have to.”
“I thought you did your homework,” he said, rolling his eyes and looking away again. “Sounds like you just read a bunch of gossip sites.”
“Fan sites, actually. Gossip sites are shit. But the fans… they’re smarter than folks give ‘em credit for.”
“Yeah, well… our fans have too much free time.” He glanced at me, looking almost embarrassed; obviously he caught my meaning.
“Oh believe me, I know,” I laughed. “Quite the creative bunch, aren’t they?” I’d done a fair share of browsing, and it turned out the fans loved to pair Taylor up with pretty much every other male celebrity, myself included. And some of them got really into it, hardcore, x-rated. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t read any of them.
I gave Taylor a knowing grin and nudged his knee with my own; he practically jumped like I’d burned him and scooted away. I rolled my eyes; the whole hesitance thing was cute at first, but it was starting to get on my nerves.
“I don’t bite, you know. Not on the first date, anyway.”
Taylor coughed, having just taken a swig of beer. “Wasn’t aware this was a date… seemed more like you crashing our green room.”
“Never said it was. I may be easy, but not that easy. Besides,” I added, giving him a long look up and down. “You’re not exactly my type.”
“Good to know,” he answered with a glare.
“Not that I have much of a type…”
“Of course you don’t,” he muttered, and I raised an eyebrow. He shot me an innocent look, and I just smirked.
“So who’d you marry, some little blondie?”
“No?” he replied curiously. “Why does it matter?”
“Jeez, can’t a guy make conversation? You know, I paid good money to hang out with you, and this is the thanks I get? I might just have to take off, you keep this up…” I smirked at him, loving the way he looked suddenly guilty.
“I’m just curious why you’re so… curious about me. And I can’t help feeling a bit mocked.”
“Yeah, I get that reaction a lot,” I said, shrugging. “What can I say? We have a lot in common, background-wise.”
“Do we.” He looked thoroughly unconvinced.
“Well,” I began, trying to be serious for once. “We both started young, with our brothers. Got pigeon-holed into the corporate bullshit idea of being teen idols. Got shit on for trying to do music our own way. Only difference is, you survived; we didn’t. Why shouldn’t I be curious?” Admitting they’d succeeded where we failed hurt, but if I wanted to get him to open up, apparently I’d have to do the same.
“Okay.” He eyed me, still seeming unsure but not as condescending. “So what’d you play, anyway? You were obviously the front man.”
“Guitar, duh.”
“Yeah, figures,” he snorted, nodding.
“What can I say? Chicks dig guitarists.”
“Not all of them,” he shot back with a smirk of his own.
“Touche. Still, don’t need ‘em all.”
“Anyway, Ike was our frontman to start with. The record label kinda pushed me out front… the ‘pretty one’,” he mocked, rolling his eyes.
“And you’re still pretty, sweetheart,” I teased. He rolled his eyes again, mumbling a sarcastic, “Thanks.”
“You always take compliments like they’re insults?”
“Do you always give compliments like they’re insults?”
“So, quite the party,” I said, looking around. “Bit tame for my taste…” Zac paused nearby and set his beer down, typing on his phone; I smirked and grabbed the bottle, taking a swig before he even noticed. “But at least the service is good.”
“I take no responsibility for the ass kicking you’re going to get if you keep that up,” Taylor sighed, shaking his head. I just chuckled, taking another sip and watching as Zac looked around for his missing drink.
“He’s a drummer, he’ll get over it; just tell him to go bang a groupie for a couple hours.”
“That’s… he’s… yeah, that’s not going to happen.”
“Ooh, another ‘devoted husband’?” I asked with air quotes. “Or are his tastes as up in the air as yours?”
“His tastes are none of your business,” Taylor answered, sitting up straighter.
“Aw, protective big brother. How cute.” I killed the beer and set it down, then pulled a flask from my jacket and taking a swig.
“But for your information, yes, he is a devoted husband. He’s a good guy.” Taylor’s eyes followed the flask; I held it out to him, but he shook his head.
“I’m sure he’s plenty good.” I looked back at the drummer; he’d changed most, from the scrawny, spastic kid to a muscular power rocker. His shirt barely contained the bulging muscles in his arms, and his hair fell in soft waves, begging to be touched. He’d obviously won the genetics lottery, maybe even more than the other two.
“That’s my brother you’re talking about,” Taylor growled. I turned to face him; it was adorable, him trying to look intimidating. He looked about as threatening as a kitten just learning to hiss.
“Easy tiger,” I laughed. “I ain’t after him.”
“Good.” He blinked, seeming to rethink what I said, and I almost laughed again.
“So, how long you guys in LA for?”
“Um, couple days. We’ve got a show in Anaheim, and some festival thing this weekend.”
“I might have to make another appearance.” I took another sip of whiskey, feeling the slight warmth start to spread.
“Yeah, you do that.”
“What, you don’t like my company?” I gave him a hurt look, trying not to smirk. “And here I thought we were getting along just fine…”
“I’ve had worse company,” he said with a shrug. “Just can’t seem to think of any…” He gave me a tiny smirk, and I knew I was getting to him.
“Yeah, I get that a lot, too. Can’t imagine why…”
“Right,” he snorted. “Because you’re just so charming.”
“Charming enough when I need to be.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he replied with a blank stare. I grinned, leaning closer and lowering my voice.
“Sweetheart, if I turned it on, you’d never know what hit you.”
“If you say so.” He eyed me, scooting back, and I smirked. I took another long swig from my flask before putting it away, then leaned closer to Taylor, crossing my legs towards him.
“So, what do you do besides play rock star and house?”
“Because that leaves so much time for anything else?”
“Gotta make time for fun. All work and no play, ya know…”
“Five kids and a career,” he said, looking down. “You do the math.”
“Seriously man?” I felt a little sad for him; suddenly my life didn’t seem to suck quite as much. “You gotta get out sometime.”
“Didn’t say I didn’t. Just… doesn’t happen that often.”
I looked him over, thinking about what I’d expected versus what I was facing. It didn’t take me long to make a decision. I stood up, holding my hand out.
“Come on.”
“…Okay.”
I was a little surprised how quickly he agreed, but that just made it better. I pulled him to his feet and threw an arm around his waist.
“We’re getting the hell out of here. Find ourselves a real party.”
“Yeah… sure…” He rolled his eyes, but I spied a hint of a smile as he let me drag him away.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have him back in one piece,” I called to Zac, giving him a quick wave as we headed out. The night had taken a totally unexpected turn, or it would have if I’d gone in with any expectations.
Taylor Hanson… not a bad guy. A little run down, but with five kids, who wouldn’t be? He was going to be loads of fun to play with, so easily ruffled. There was more to him than he was letting on, that much was obvious. And while I never paid too much attention to rumors, I had a solid feeling I was on the right track with him. Something about the way he carried himself, the way he looked at everyone… the way he looked at me. He was interested, even if he didn’t want to admit it. It was like I told him; once I turned on the charm, he had no idea.