(Avi)
"Hey, guys?" William asked, sticking his head in the makeup room.
Our heads swiveled around to his voice. Adam whimpered as he tried to turn to look at him, only to have his head turned back around firmly and set square on his shoulders to look straight ahead.
"Keep still," Jessica ordered. "How'm I supposed to detangle if you keep moving around?"
"Sandwich fixings in the break room," William told us. "Help yourselves."
"Awesome," Rob proclaimed, popping up from the couch. "I'm there."
"No you're not, you're here," Chance countered with a giggle, having gotten progressively sillier as the evening went on. Poor Scott couldn't even get him to cooperate with his dance lesson, because he just kept goofing off. At least Rob had tried. He was a bit hopeless—I'd tell him to move his body to the left and he'd move awkwardly to the right; I'd pat the hip I wanted him to move and he'd lumber through the move I'd tried to show him. He could barely coordinate a step, touch, sway, but at least he was actually working with me and attempting to do the casual dance I was showing him. Scott finally told him to go back to his box. Maybe Austin and Adam could carry them. They were the best of the bunch.
"Go get eats," Kevin agreed, nodding us forward.
We wound our way around to the back room and pieced together sandwiches. I helped myself to a bag of Lays and a sprig of grapes before studying the drinks. I spent so long tried to decide amongst flavored waters and teas (raspberry water? Lemon water? Lemon tea? There were almost too many choices for an indecisive me) that Rob and then Adam stepped in front of me and grabbed their own drinks. Kevin coughed impatiently after awhile.
"Fine," I mumbled, finally just closing my eyes and grabbing blindly. Lime water. OK, this could be interesting.
Chance grabbed a tea and we all started back, Rob already nipping at his sandwich before we got halfway there.
"Grab a drink and move on, Avi," Adam advised. "Be decisive."
"Couldn't make up my mind," I groaned, taking a seat by the wall. I opened my chips and carefully laid them by my sandwich, using one to scrape off a bit of stray mustard that had sort of exploded on my bread. Dang. Give it one good squeeze and pfwwwt!
"Yeah... good thing I didn't get dressed yet," Adam muttered, rubbing at a spot on his shirt with his napkin. He was trying to get it off, I knew, but he was only spreading it and rubbing it in. There was an increasingly larger yellow-brown stain on his stomach area.
"I watched Rob, Avi, and Adam get squirted and was careful," Kevin laughed, Chance now grinning and trying to balance his drink top on his nose.
"Chance, you been hitting the bottle already?" Rob asked, squinting at him. "You're acting all drunk and goofy."
"Nah," he denied. "Just playing." He adjusted the bottle cap on the tip of his nose.
"You're nuts," I told him, starting to play on my phone as I ate. No sense starting to comb my hair and do makeup now; I was just getting ready to get cleaned up. Current task: eat and chill. I got this. Easiest thing I've done all day. Engrossed in sending texts and wishing a few Visalia friends a happy New Year's Eve, I jumped when it actually rang. I grinned, seeing Esther's name.
"Hey, Esther!" I greeted her cheerfully.
"Avi, where are you?" she asked without preamble. No 'hello', no 'how are you', no 'what's up', nothing. Just a blatant question about my whereabouts.
I blinked at her abruptness. "Uh—LA?"
"No shit!" she snapped, making me pull my phone away from my ear and give it an odd look to verify the caller. It said Esther, but it sure didn't sound like my mild-mannered happy sister.
"Esther?" I asked disbelievingly.
She sighed. "Sorry, didn't mean to snap at you. Or curse at you; that was awful of me. I guess I meant to say, 'hi Avi, how are you, and where specifically in LA are you?' "
I chuckled. That sounded more like her. A bit harried and tense, but much more, I dunno, Esther-like. "Hey. I'm doing OK. We're at the theatre, here in the hair and makeup area, having a bite to eat. Mitch, Scott, Kirstie, Austin, and Tim are in the showers. Our turn next."
She blew out a breath. "OK, good. You having fun and all?"
"Yeah." I grinned again, looking at Jessica, who'd managed to work a comb through Adam's hair. "With friends and getting ready for the show. Always puts me in a good mood. Oh, guess who showed up here in our doorstep the other day?"
"Who?!" she yelped, sounding like she'd overdosed on the catnip here. Great. Got a sober but drunk-acting Chance and a jumpy sister.
"You seem wound up tighter than a ball of rubber bands," I commented, earning a questioning look from Rob. "Esther. My sister. She's jumpy right now."
"What got her all wound up?" Kevin leaned forward to peer around Rob, ignoring Chance and his antics.
I shrugged. "Esther?" Come on, say something. Her silence was unnerving me.
Finally, she took a breath. "Avi, I'm—I—"
Pushing my sandwich aside, suddenly disinterested in my food, I leaned forward and spoke urgently into the phone. "Are you OK?" My heart pounded as I waited for her answer. If anything happened to any of my family, I was on the first plane out of here, show be damned.
"I'm fine." Esther sounded more sure of herself now. "We're all fine. I'm jumpy, I know I am. Been jumpy all afternoon. The neighbor's dog barked and I about had a heart attack."
I chuckled at that, Kevin, Adam, Chance, and Rob grinning and going back to their regularly scheduled dinners, Chance now wearing the drink bottle top on his head. "What's got you so worked up?"
"I'm not sure, Avi," she said seriously. "Think that's what's bothering me the most. I just can't put my finger... who'd you say showed up?"
"Jessica," I said happily as Jessica put the brush down and came up behind me, kissing the top of my head.
"Jessica?" Esther sounded surprised. "Wow. That's...bet you were glad to see her."
"Yes, I was," I had to admit, tilting my head back for a nose kiss. "Very pleasant surprise."
"I bet. Happy for you, Avi. I'm gl—ahhh!" she squealed. "Ugh. Dryer just kicked on."
"My God, Esther," I murmured, alarmed she was so alarmed—over meaningless stuff at that. "Try to relax, OK? Have a glass of wine or something."
"Thought's crossed my mind," she admitted. "But I don't actually want to drink here. Avi, um... I'm worried about you."
"Esther, I'm fine," I assured her gently. "No need to worry about me."
"Can't help it," she said softly. "I just am. Avi, it's New Year's Eve. People drink tonight. People get crazy and stupid when they drink. Please watch out for yourself, OK?"
"I will," I promised, Tim now emerging fresh-faced from his room. Rob started waving his mostly-consumed sandwich at him, telling him dinner was in the break room.
"OK," she mumbled uncertain, a silence falling between us for a moment.
I nibbled on my sandwich, not wanting to hang up on her like this. I knew my sister. Ninety percent of the time, ninety-five percent even, she's calm, cool, and collected. When she gets unravelled though... I wished I knew what exactly had unravelled her and why so absolutely. "Esther, talk to me. Now I'm worried about you."
She coughed. "We can be worry buddies together."
"I suppose so..." I took a sip of my lime water. It actually wasn't bad. "Tell me about your day." I let her talk, halfway listening to her. I was mainly trying to distract her from herself. Austin came out of his dressing room, Kirstie not far behind him. Both headed out to the break room. At least they could be civil to each other even if they weren't feeling the warm fuzzies. Thank God Mitch had gotten through to her when no one else could, when no one else dared approach her, when she was lashing out earlier. I couldn't imagine how this would've played out had he not settled her down.
"That sounds really pretty, Esther. I can't wait to see it sometime," I said, complimenting her on some needlework she was describing that she'd done this afternoon. I didn't want her to think I wasn't listening, though my mind was wandering.
Austin, Tim, and Kirstie came back in with full plates and laughing about something. I smiled to myself, grateful that all three of them were in my life and for all of our friendships. We might bicker—hell, we're human—but all and all, we were friends.
Adam, Chance, Kevin, and Rob stepped into the empty dressing rooms, Kevin trying to urge me along.
"When you get a chance, wrap it up, OK? Need to get ready for the show."
I nodded at him, mouthing that I would. "I bet you could market your handiwork, Esther. Go for it."
"Who's he talking to?" Tim hissed.
"His sister," Kevin answered. "Trying to talk Esther down. Apparently, she's worked up about something."
Scott looked at me curiously. "What's up?"
I leaned over, putting my mouth close to his ear. "She's fine. Just needs to talk it out." I rubbed at my face. "Yes, of course you're good enough, Esther," I told my doubtful sister, glancing at Kirstie and Austin, now cutting up as she went to work on his hair. Good God almighty, that'd never be happening if she'd let herself fly and said what was on her mind. None of us would be on speaking terms; Home Free would be walled off and never would work with us again. We would have put on one hell of a strained show, all of us praying they wouldn't strangle us, then split ways, friendships destroyed in the heat of the moment, for words she didn't even mean when she was so upset herself. Mitch'd told Kevin, Scott, and me in strict confidence, making us swear that we'd never breathe of a word of it to anyone, least of all to Home Free. Even she was upset of what'd very nearly come out of her mouth—she knew it was low and she hated, hated, hated how close she'd been to severing ties and friendships forever. My Pentatonix lips were sealed. 'I'm not your wife that you can hit, force and manipulate. You hit me like you hit her, I'mma hit you back.' That would have shocked the living hell out of Tim and hurt him. Deeply. And words can be apologized for, but they can never be unsaid or unheard.
"Oh, good, I'm glad you went for a walk down at Dawson's," I murmured, eyeing each of them in turn. Adam would have told her off, without a doubt. Chance would have run to comfort Tim, who would have been in a near panic only to wind down to impenetrable sadness. Rob and Austin, provoked and in near self-defense, I had no doubt would come fighting. They look out for each other like family, and when one is down and defenseless, they ain't holding back. And there'd be nothing we could do. Kirstie could hold her own against one of them, probably Austin or Chance, maybe Tim if he was down and unwilling to defend himself. Adam, worked up—granted, he'd use cutting words to verbally tear her down first—could be hard to deal with too. She'd be done for with Rob. Hell, even us guys would. He's super easy to get along with, fun, hilarious, and a genuinely good and kind-hearted guy, but if you mess with his friends, you're going down, and no one could stop him. Scott'd be our best bet, but he couldn't handle four pissed-as-hell Home Free members. Mitch and I'd just cry, and Kevin would be the one trying to mediate, to fix broken hearts, to lift spirits, to beg and plead for calmness, for forgiveness that would never come.
"Am I, um, interfering with your getting ready?" Esther asked quietly.
"No worries," I told her. I was eating into the time I had though, and we were up first. Ah, hell. Guess I could make do without a shower and just pull my hair back....
"No, I am. I know I am," she disagreed. "I'll let you go. Just, please, please, Avi, watch out for yourself, OK? I do not have a good feeling about this, any of this. And if anything were to happen to you, it would kill each and every one of us over here, you got that? Be careful. Please, be careful and watch out for yourself."
My ears perked up at that. She was actually giving me a warning. Not an angry one ('if you don't stop poking me right now!!!'), an obligatory one ('hate to say this, but I got bad news: the Las Vegas trip is no more'), but a genuine concerned 'I've got a feeling you're going to be seriously hurt') warning. I closed my eyes, starting to feel a deep-seated worry settle in my own chest.
Eight years old. All day long. "Is Grandma OK?" "Grandma's fine, right?" "We talk to Grandma lately?" "I want Grandma." "Take me to Grandma's!" "Esther, sit down and calm down!" "You're working yourself up over nothing!"
The next morning... Grandma's blood sugar had gone sky high, knocking her into a diabetic ketoacidosis coma. Four days later, she'd left this earth only to be lowered next to Grandpa.
Ten years old. "Don't make me go in that car!" "I will not get in that car!" "No! No!" "I'm not going and you can't make me!" She'd stomped her foot and was rewarded for her insolence with a spanking.
Five days later... Dad's car had gone into a tailspin in the rain. The five of us had slid and found ourselves at the bottom of a ditch. Mom shattered her knees, Dad got a concussion, Josh wound up with cuts from the glass, Esther broke her arm, and me, in the middle, with bumps and bruises.
Fifteen years old. Normally cheerful, she'd become withdrawn in school, spending all her time with her friend Laura, would barely talk to any of us, and when she did, it was Laura this, Laura that, Laura, Laura, Laura. We'd gotten so frustrated with her we'd told her to just go live with Laura.
Then Laura went missing. Massive county-wide hunt for her. She was finally recovered a week later in a field with her uncle, both apparently mauled by some sort of wild animal that was later determined to be a mountain lion.
Moral of the story—if Esther says she has a bad feeling, you stop and listen. Mitch and Scott swear she's psychic. Me... I don't necessarily believe in ESP, but... there's definitely something there. She may not be able to talk to dead people or get distinct visions of the future, but she is not one to be ignored or taken lightly, especially when she says she has a bad feeling.
"Can you elaborate?" I asked urgently, quietly so as not to scare anyone, specifically Scott and Mitch. They would freak the fuck out if I mentioned Esther's 'bad feeling.'
"No," Esther wept. "I—I can't. I'm sorry. I'm just so scared for you, Avi."
OK now, think, Avi. Think. Where would our most likely threat to existence come from? Cars? Animals? Disease? My eyes fluttered on Tim in the corner, spraying the bejeezus out of his hair and complaining about flyaways and feather-light strands. His ex-wife. Well, Jenika would be in Tennessee, probably in prison where her jailbird ass belongs. Her crazy as fuck father and brother, too. But hadn't he said something about a mother-in-law? Who security might have seen lurking in a car nearby the other day? Oh holy shit. What if she came after him? After us? Starting to breathe faster, my heart pounding, I tried to keep my cool. Can't. Panic. The others. Bare minimum. Tell the others the bare minimum they needed to know. Smith. I had to get to Smith. I had to give Esther just enough information to let her know we were covered and OK but not scare the shit out of her. Tread very carefully, Kaplan. Alert security of a possible issue and remind the others to be vigilant. Don't freak out yourself. Have to stay calm but have to have the others keep their eyes wide open.
"I hear you, Esther," I said in a low voice, trying to talk quietly but over the pounding of my own heart.
"Please use your head, Avi," Esther begged tearfully. "Is there anything you can do?"
"Yes." Slowly, I found my feet only to get pushed by Scott in the direction of the dressing rooms.
"Avi!" he admonished me. "Get dressed! Quit chitchatting and get ready!"
Think. Pick your words carefully. Walking towards the dressing room, I nodded at him and, phone pressed to my ear, I said, "Yeah." Satisfied that I was moving in the right direction, Scott stepped away.
Once alone in the dressing room, I put her on speaker phone and started readying myself. "OK, Esther, I'm in the dressing room. Sorry if I sound like I'm in a tunnel. You're on speakerphone. I'm getting dressed and stuff but I need to talk."
"OK," she said as I wet a washcloth in the bathroom and washed my face.
"Long story short. I know where there is a potential for a security breach. I am going to clean up a little, get dressed, and go talk to our security guards, OK?"
"Good," Esther whispered. "That—that helps ease my mind a little."
"Good, glad to hear it," I mumbled, blowing a soap bubble off my upper lip. "I need to go, OK? I'll talk to you later. Call you after the show."
"OK, Avi. I love you. Be careful, baby brother."
I rolled my eyes. I was a grown man and by no means a baby. The sentiment was nice though. "I will, I promise. Love you too."
A quick glance at my watch told how little time I truly had here. I either had time for a shower or to talk to Smith. Drizzling water over my head with the washcloth, I chose Smith. I quickly twisted my hair into a low bun and threw my clothes on. There. Good enough for a concert.
I emerged looking satisfactory. Kirstie was working on her own hair, Austin's now in a ponytail, somehow with that tuft under control. Mitch started to descend on me with makeup brushes, but I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"Don't have time, Mitch," I told him softly.
"Yes, you do. We got twenty." He started to brush my forehead with powder.
"Mitch." I lifted my hand and took the brush from him as he started to squawk about being shiny. I did not care about being shiny right now. "Listen, Mitch. I can't powder right now," I told him quietly. He opened his mouth, probably to bitch at me for being uncooperative, but I took my other hand and quickly pressed a finger to his lips to keep my slightly excitable friend quiet. Dark eyes wide, he nodded mutely. "Don't freak out on me and don't let on anything to the others. Don't freak everyone else out, OK?" Thank God, the others were still preoccupied with their own routines.
"Avi, what's going on?" Mitch asked in a very small, very wavering voice, close to tears.
I touched at his eyes. "Don't cry on me, OK? It'll be all right, but it is crucial that I find Smith. Please, Mitch, give me five minutes to find Smith. I will bring him here and I will explain everything. Please, please, please keep it together. If you freak out, they will freak out and it will be hysteria twenty minutes before a big show. If you cry, Scott and Kirstie'll be all on you like white on rice, then they'll freak, then everyone else will freak and again, hysteria. I don't have time to explain twice. It'll be fine, but everything hinges on my getting to Smith. Will you promise you can keep it together for me here for five minutes?"
Mitch pursed his lips, blowing out a long breath right in my face. "OK, Avi, I promise."