Five Years of Fame [COMPLETE]

16. An Invitation to Dinner

Spring, Month 4

The music only riled up Olivia's nerves and so she cut Wes Keats off mid-belt to keep herself from the breaking point. Her hands gripped and re-gripped the steering wheel every three minutes. Her eyes darted to her rear and side-view mirrors just as frequently as she sped across the California highway.

The small cluster of buildings that made up downtown were growing smaller behind her and the range of mountains just on the horizon was growing large as she headed east.

The air-conditioning was running full blast but Olivia could feel the walls of her car on all sides pressing in on her as her heart raced and turned that off too, opting instead for the free air that rushed in through the slit in the cracked window.

Olivia tried breathing deeply, four beats in, four beats in. But still, her heart raced, constricting inside her chest as she tried to force air into her lungs. She tried not thinking about what she was driving towards, focusing instead on getting there, concentrating on the speeding cars around her and making sure she was a safe distance from the car in front of her.

Nothing worked. Images kept flashing in Olivia's brain no matter what she did. Lights and loud music, her sister screaming at the top of her lungs, standing next to Olivia as she did the same. Singing along to an arena full of people to the songs that came charging at them from the band on stage.

Olivia especially tried not to think of that small venue, small among a mass of towering adults, being lifted on her dad's shoulders so she could see the performers. She could still remember the sweat that glistened on the guitar straps, the warm wood of the guitars glowing under the lights.

All of this Olivia tried, and failed, to not think about as she drove towards her destination.

The house was seated out in the wilderness, the only one nearby for at least half a mile in every direction, seated on a narrow plateau that jutted out of the side of the mountain. Olivia got off the highway and drove through winding single-lane streets for an extra twenty minutes before finally reaching the black iron gates that stood open, waiting for her.

Olivia was grateful for the near hour drive from her house out here as she found she could hold out her hand flat with only light tremors visible. Her breathing had slowed somewhat and her knees were slowly regaining their strength.

Everything hit the fan and Olivia felt herself start to fall to pieces once again as the large wooden front door was pulled open and her host for the evening stepped out into the warm late California evening.

Olivia froze mid-climb from the car, her eyes locked on the man approaching her. His smile widened and wrinkles appeared around his eyes as he squinted into the setting sun.

"Reeve Keller, right?"

He had his hand outstretched and Olivia took it out of habit, her conscious brain trying to thaw itself.

"Wes Keats. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He said his name as if she didn't already know it. Like she would have no reason to know it. Like he wasn't the lead singer of her favorite band since she was nine years old.

His Southern accent was lighter than she had excepted and the warmth and his casual manner helped her remember hers.

"Olivia. I mean, Reeve Keller. And it's a pleasure to meet you as well, sir."

"We can't be friends if you're gonna call me sir. It makes me feel old."

Olivia found herself laughing as he did as if she didn't have a choice in the matter.