March 2009  

"Alright... we've got a double bacon burger, fries and strawberry milkshake. And... chicken tenders and hash browns." I smile at the young couple and set their plates in front of them. "Anything else I can get you guys?"    

"Nah... I think we're good." The girl nods, eyeing me a little too closely.             

"Actually... yeah." The guy says suddenly, pulling a napkin from the dispenser. "Your autograph." He smirks and slides the napkin across the table.    

"Now why would you want that?" I chuckle and roll my eyes.     

"Because you're Madison Fox."    

"Fraid not." I sigh, keeping the bright smile intact. "Trust me... Madison Fox has much better things to do than work here. But thanks... I'm flattered."    

"C'mon... you have to be her!"    

"Wish I was." I shrug and point to my name tag. "But, last time I checked this name tag says Grace." I give them another smile and make my way back to the kitchen.     

Ya know... that lie seems to get easier every time I have to tell it.     

The first few times, I stuttered and stumbled like some sort of idiot, barely choking out the "I get that alot" line, but I managed somehow.     

Now however, it rolls off my tongue so easily, I'm almost starting to believe it myself.     

"Gracie... I just seated another table in your section." The hostess calls out as she pops her head in the kitchen, then disappears just as quickly.     

I nod and head for the table, groaning at the sight of three people looking around expectantly.    

Hey... I said the lying got easier, not more enjoyable.    

"Hi guys... how we doin today?" I smile and pull my notepad out of the front pocket of my apron.     

"Fabulous." The shorter of the two men smiles at me, his brown eyes boring into mine.     

"Good to hear. Wanna start off with drinks or are we ready to go?"    

"Ladies first." He smirks and gestures toward the redhead seated next to him.    

She rolls her eyes and snatches the menu from his hands. "Cherry Coke, please." She nods and looks up at me curiously.     

The two men place their drink orders and as soon as I'm out of ear shot, I see them put their heads together and begin whispering amongst themselves.     

I know this was my choice, but there's a part of me that absolutely hates the fact that it came to this.     

I had every single thing I wanted and I walked away from it. It was fucking stupid and sometimes I still regret it, but I know it was for the best.    

I just wish that fading into obscurity thing was a lot easier than it's actually been.    

For awhile, the media was constantly up my ass. I couldn't go anywhere or do anything without someone following me and that's when I realized it was time for a change of scenery.     

My parents and Chelsea weren't too pleased with my decision to leave Chicago, but I had to get out. If I had any hope of living a life anywhere near normal, I had to go somewhere that the press wouldn't think to look for me.    

Bayfield, Colorado ended up being the place for me.    

Alright fine, I closed my eyes and pointed to a map and Bayfield is where my finger just happened to land.    

But, it's turned out alright so far. It's an insanely small town where the most exciting thing to happen are the high school football games.     

It's quiet, mostly full of small families and not a single person seems to care about the latest celebrity gossip.     

Unfortunately, the fact that this is a big high school town has left me open to get recognized quite often so I decided to use my middle name rather than my first and use my mother's maiden name. Maybe it's a little extreme, but it makes the lie a little more believable.     

I grab the drinks and carry them to the table, fighting the urge to roll my eyes when the three of them stop whispering as soon as they see me coming.    

As crazy as it sounds, I'd almost prefer it if they just come out and ask rather than whisper and try to decide for themselves.     

"You guys ready to order?"        

After a chorus of 'yeah' they place their order and within an hour, they're gone. I grab a small plastic tub from the kitchen and begin the menial task of cleaning off the table.     

Before I remove a single item, a bright pink flyer catches my eye and my curiosity gets the better of me.     

"The Ledge: Fleetwood Mac Cover Band- currently holding auditions for lead vocalist. No experience required, but it does help. Call Lucas for details or to set up an audition"    

A phone number is printed at the bottom and I can't help but roll my eyes. Some people will try anything.    

I crumple the paper up and just as I'm about to toss it in the tub with the other garbage, I spot the smudged ink on the back and immediately un-crumple it.    

"We know who you are (not to sound creepy or anything.) Doubt it'll happen, but we'd love for you to audition or come to a show some time. Give us a call. P.S- Keri Butler sucks."    

I can't help but giggle and roll my eyes at the last line.    

Alright, I lied... what these kids just did is much, much cooler than flat out asking for my autograph.

**************    

Why am I here?    

Seriously... why the fuck am I here?    

I was the one who wanted out of this life. Well... even that's not entirely true, I guess.     

It was never about abandoning the music. I just... I couldn't do the high profile celebrity bullshit anymore. When you get right down to it, it damn near ruined my life. I lost everything... friends, my house, my boyfriend, my record deal.     

I lost every single fucking thing that mattered to me and I blame a lot of it on the media. Because of them, I was forced to stay in a marriage that was a complete sham. Because of them, being with the man I loved became next to impossible. Because of them, Keri Butler was put on a pedestal and I was pushed off to the side, like some pathetic has-been.     

Honestly, the only good thing that came from all the media attention was my relationship with Justin. Sure, we had an incredibly rocky start, but our relationship became the most important thing in my life and I loved that man with every fiber of my being.     

I learned a lot from being with him and I don't regret one second of the time we spent together, but one of us had to face the facts and realize that we didn't belong together, and it just happened to be me.     

And I'm sure Justin is still harboring some serious animosity toward me, but if I'm really, really lucky... he's atleast moved on or found someone else. I'm perfectly fine with him hating me... I just don't want him to miss me.    

And yes, I do miss him. More than I thought possible, but I know it'll pass. I've only been out of rehab for three months. I guess it's only natural that I still miss my old life.    

Which I suppose is part of the reason I showed up here tonight.     

Some of the friends I've made here in Bayfield have tried to drag me to concerts, but I'm just not ready to be around that yet.        

Atleast, I thought I wasn't.    

I know that being here tonight and seeing this band play is only going to drive me crazy and make me miss performing more than I already do.     

Why the hell am I here?    

Sometimes, I think they should have locked me in a padded cell rather than rehab.    

But, I digress.    

I guess I'm here out of sheer curiosity. These guys are a Fleetwood Mac cover band, after all. That's like the perfect bait to get my attention.    

I spent hours debating over coming here, even thought about asking someone to come with me, but that would have been way too risky.    

It's easy to blow off the questions and curious stares while I'm at work, but I'm not so sure I could do the same here. The part of me that's hopelessly addicted to this life would break through the lie I've created in a heartbeat.    

So, I devised a plan and came alone.    

I decided to stay in the back of the bar, far away from anyone who could possibly recognize me. I'll sit through a couple songs, then I'm gonna bolt. I have no intention of talking to anyone, so my little plan is bound to work.     

It doesn't take long for me to grab a drink from the bar and plant myself at a table in the back as the first band takes the stage. They aren't too bad... a little too punky for my liking, but it doesn't really matter... I'm not here to see them.    

I frown and do my best to cover my face with my hair when I spot the red head from the diner the other day. A flash of recognition crosses her features and she excuses herself from her conversation.    

Shit, shit, shit.    

If I panic and try to leave, I'll only draw attention to myself. It'd be much easier to repeat the usual lie for the millionth time, get her out of my hair and book it.    

I fucking knew this was a bad idea.     

She strolls up to the table and grins at me, like she was expecting this exact situation. She extends her hand to me, the smile never fading. "Stella."    

I shake her hand and shoot her the most convincing smile I can. "Grace."    

"Oh really?" She smirks, her eyes traveling over my face. "Funny... I could have sworn..."    

"Nope... sorry." I shrug. Please, for the love of all things holy, let her buy this.    

"Well, isn't that a kick." She laughs and shakes her head, and that's when I notice her accent. Irish or Scottish, I'm not sure which. "So... Grace... who did you come to see tonight?"    

"Oh...umm... these guys, actually." I gesture toward the stage and she smirks again.     

Suddenly... I know there's no way in hell she's buying this. I didn't notice before, but she appears to be a few years older than me, close to her mid-thirties, if I had to guess. There's an edge of superiority about her, but not in an obnoxious sort of way. It's just easy to see that she's older and much, much smarter than I am.     

"Please tell me you're joking... they can't play to save their lives and they've stumbled through their lyrics... nobody's here to see them." She laughs and shakes her head. "So, tell me Madison...what brought you to our show?"    

"Well, I-" I bite my tongue and frown.     

Damnit.     I really am a terrible liar.    

"Curiosity." I finally mutter and roll my eyes. "I'm a big Fleetwood Mac fan."    

"So I've heard. That tribute show a few months back was a fucking disaster, eh?" She smiles sympathetically and sighs. "Gotta admit though... I'd fuck up standing next to Stevie too."    

"Christ Stel... what are you....oh."    

One of the two men from the diner appears behind her and something about him makes me want to laugh. Maybe it's the bed head, or the crooked grin that doesn't seem to go away, no matter his expression, or it could be the black T-shirt, neon pink tie and baggy khaki pants. I don't know why... but just looking at the guy makes you want to giggle.    

Stella shuts her eyes tightly, her annoyance with the younger man clear as day. She takes a deep breath before turning to face him. "What now?"    

"Lucas was looking for you.... I didn't think you were gonna jump her already." He grins, then leans around her to look at me. "They were watching the door for you, ya know."    

"Oh nice one, you little shit. Make us sound like a bunch of loons why don't you." Stella mutters before turning to face me again. "Alright fine... we left the flyer on purpose, obviously. We knew who you were the second we saw you at the diner... we need another lead and well... you've got pipes girl."    

What the hell am I supposed to say to that?    

Clearly, this woman is about as blunt as they come and I have to give her credit for that, but still... this is just... really fucking weird.     

I shift awkwardly in my seat, looking everywhere but at the two of them. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm... I've kind of... retired."        

"Retirement before 30. Must be nice. Wow Stel... that must make you fucking ancient."     

"Piss off Benny." She barks at him and rolls her eyes. "I can appreciate that... but we aren't looking to do anything big... we're a local band. We've all got other shit going... this is just for fun." She smiles as she leans across the table and pulls a napkin out of the holder. "It's really nothing special, but our old lead fucked off to pop out a bunch of babies, so now we're screwed. Anyway... if you change your mind..." She trails off and hands me the napkin with her name and number scrawled across it.    

"Yeah... yeah, thanks." I smile and fold the napkin before shoving it in my bag.    

"Enjoy the show, Grace." She smirks as the two of them turn to leave.    

Just before they disappear into the crowd, Stella pulls a pair of drumsticks from her back pocket and quickly raps Benny over the head with them.    

Well, that was... interesting.