Madison never told Zac about her phone call from the President, mostly because she hadn't spoken to him since before the man called. He had other things on his mind. Taylor was getting help from a Tulsa psychiatrist, much against his will, and Zac was happy to get some shows in without Taylor constantly trying to take over. He had that quality about him. He had always been the front man for Hanson and it just felt natural for him to overrule Zac in the shows, pushing him to the back burner while he did his thing, as much as he didn't even realize he was doing it. Even though Taylor's only part in the show was back-up vocals and the occasional piano solo, he had a way to steal the spotlight away from Zac. That was just him, though. That was just Taylor.
"Ahh�" Zac said, falling onto his bed in his own hotel room. He rolled around on the bed. Bed felt really good right about now. Interviews all day, show all night�hadn't seen a bed since six o'clock in the morning and now it was past midnight. He bundled himself in the covers and closed his eyes. As soon as he began to drift off, his phone began to ring. "Ugh! I hate my life." He got out of his warm covers and off his comfortable bed to the cold hard table where he picked up his ringing phone. "Hello?" He yawned.
"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"
"Sort of. But that's okay. Pretty soon I'll just fall asleep with you on the phone and all will be well." He kicked off his shoes and climbed back into the bed. "How are you doing, sweetie? I haven't talked to you in over a week."
"I know. That's not my fault."
"I'm so sorry, honey," Zac said. "I've been so busy. I forgot that Taylor was taking care of a whole bunch of things for me and I've had to do them 'cause he's not around."
"Yeah," Madison said, her voice drifting off. "About that whole Taylor thing. Mind telling me what happened? All I heard was what I saw on CNN, and we all know how reliable their news coverage is, especially when it comes to something like this." Zac yawned again.
"Ahh�excuse me. Taylor had a freak out that morning and I kind of figured it was just one time. He can do it every now and then; I know it's going to happen once in a while, but then it happened again later the same day. And it wasn't his normal freak out. He was screaming his head off and it lasted a lot longer than the others ones. I think this was a different flashback."
"So where is he?"
"He's at home. He's supposed to be seeing a psychiatrist there. I haven't heard from home because I'm so busy so I have no idea what he's really doing."
"I know."
"You know? Have you called over to my house to check up?"
"Not�exactly." Zac grew confused.
"Then how do you know?"
"He's sitting in my living room watching CNN drinking a beer with my father." Zac sat up.
"What?"
"I know, I even told my father he was still twenty but once he said he was in the war my father was all 'you were in the war? You're old enough to have a beer! Come and get wasted with me! Just don't smoke, the misses will freak out.' "
"Madison, you know what I mean."
"I don't know why he's here but he showed up yesterday and my parents can't get enough of him. I know why they love him so much but I don't know why they're letting him stay here when they know he's supposed to be getting help." Zac opened his mouth to retort but he paused.
"Why do they love him?"
"He looks like my brother."
"Oh." He laid back down on the bed. "Can I talk to him?"
"I don't know. He's getting kind of wasted with my father."
"Just let me talk to him," Zac said, sighing. Madison relented and soon Taylor was on the phone. "What the fuck are you doing, Taylor? Why aren't you at home?"
"Zac? Oh�hey Zac, how are you doing?" Taylor asked, as if Zac hadn't even said a word. "I'm just hanging out with the Hank-meister here. Did you know he went to Vietnam? Sharing old war stories over�over whatever the hell he's giving me."
"Taylor, why aren't you in Tulsa?"
"Tulsa's boring! At least in Cleveland you don't have miles of fucking cornfields in between your neighbors."
"Taylor, we don't have neighbors."
"Exactly!" Zac sighed.
"Did you see the psychiatrist?"
"No. I didn't. There was no way in hell I was going to see some stupid psychiatrist. Hey, Hank-meister, do you think I need a shrink? I'm just going through what you went through. Do I need a shrink?"
"Hell no!"
"Taylor, why are you there? Of all the places you could go, why are you there?"
"Why not?"
"It's Madison's house! Madison is my girlfriend! Why are you at my girlfriend's house, Taylor?"
"Why not?" Taylor said again.
"Taylor I don't know what the hell you're doing there but I don't want you there! I lose girls all the fucking time to you, I'm not going to lose her to you too!"
"Zac, I'm not macking on your girlfriend," Taylor said. "He thinks I'm macking on you. He's the jealous type."
"Taylor get the fuck out of there!"
"Fine. Geez," Taylor said, huffing. "You are so bent out of shape, man."
"I'm sorry if I don't like the fact that you're staying at my girlfriend's house when no one even knows you're there. You need to be in Tulsa seeing that psychiatrist. I don't care what the 'Hank-meister' says, Taylor, you need help. You're not going to get it getting drunk with my girlfriend's father! You don't understand how close to fired you are."
"You don't have to worry about that," Taylor said, his voice serious for the first time since he picked up the phone. "I quit." Before Zac could respond, Taylor had hung up the phone and he was left, pissed off.
"Fuck!" he screamed. He debated quickly whether or not he should throw his phone across the room in his anger, ultimately deciding that it wasn't a good idea. Sighing, he decided to go to sleep.
"As the nation looks forward to the Democratic and Republican Conventions starting this week in Los Angeles and New York, respectively, the major names this summer are few; Ralph Davis, David Smith, and none other than Mr. USA, Zac Hanson himself. Mr. Hanson is scheduled to perform at the Democratic Convention in favor of Ralph Davis. He and Miss Madison Ashton are scheduled to stay the week at the convention and will also be making speeches throughout its course, being that the major platform for the Democrats is to remove all Americans from the war in Korea," said Eve the interviewer for CNN. Zac had turned on the television even before he put his suitcase down.
Madison followed close behind, putting her suitcase down by the door, her eyes taking in the glory of the penthouse suite in their hotel in downtown Los Angeles. She was overwhelmed. "Damn!" she said. "This is awesome! How come we don't stay in places like this on tour?"
"Because during the tour we only spend a night or two in the same city. There's no point if we're just going to sleep once we get here and leave once we wake up."
"Well I think we should start staying like this."
"Whatever, Madison. You can start paying for it."
"You're almost worth a billion dollars, Zac, I think you can afford to start living in style." He groaned.
"I don't care about living in style. I care about CNN and music." She gave him a look. "And you, of course."
"Well I'm exploring. God, this is like an apartment! A really nice apartment!" She opened a door and walked into a room. "Wow! You have a piano in here! Why do we have a piano?"
"Because I asked for it."
"Oh." She sat down at it and ran her fingers along the smooth keys to the black grand piano. After a few moments she began tinkering away, just to sound it out. Zac, in the other room, rolled his eyes. Madison and a piano? He was ready to search for the cotton balls to put in his ear. He walked to the room she was in and leaned against the doorframe, waiting for her to hit a sour note and make him yell at her to get off it, when suddenly she began to masterly play a very complicated piece by Chopin. His mouth dropped.
"Where the HELL did you learn to play like that?" he asked.
"I taught myself," she said, looking over at him, her hands taking a life of their own over the keys. "I've been playing for years."
"How come you never told me?"
"You never asked." She gave him a smile and looked back down at her hands on the keys. He walked back to the other room, looked through his suitcase, and pulled out a set of sheet music. He returned to the main living room and sat down next to Madison on the piano bench.
"Play this," he said, putting the music on the stand. She immediately switched from Chopin's 'Raindrop Prelude' to the music he'd placed in front of her. She jumped a bit when a few bars into it he began to sing. It hit her quickly; she was playing the piano score to her own song. Grinning a bit, she continued the song, silently awed by Zac's powerful voice. She'd been a fan for a good half a decade before she was his girlfriend and it always amazed her how well the boy could actually sing.
As her final notes drifted out, she shivered. "Damn, you're good."
"I know," he said, giving her a signature toothy grin. "Hey, I have an idea." She knew exactly what he was going to ask and quickly stood up. "How about you play that tomorrow? They want us to open with that song�"
"No," she quipped.
"Why not?"
"Zac, that's why I never told you I could play. I knew if you heard me, you'd like me, and you'd want me to perform with you. I'm not you, Zac! I'm not the kind of person who can go out in front of sold-out stadiums and arenas and just play like you. You were made to be on stage. You were born to do this. I wasn't. I can't even get up in front of a handful of people and play. When my mother heard how good I'd gotten she had me do a recital and there was maybe fifty people there; I was so scared that I ran out of the place crying. I can't do it. No."
"Madison, have you ever played in front of people, though?" he asked.
"No."
"It's completely different from the time you're backstage to the time you're on stage playing. Once you start it's something else�something else takes over you and it's not even you out there, it's what you've been possessed with. You're out there and you're raw, exposed, and everyone is watching you play something you created or you mastered and they're singing along with you, knowing all the words�Maddie it's the greatest feeling in the world."
"Yeah. For you. Not for me."
"Maddie�"
"No."
"Oh, all right," he said, lowering his eyes. "I'll just do it myself." She agreed and sat back down next to him at the piano.
"I'm nervous enough as it is, honey," she said. "I'm nervous enough about having to speak in front of all those people."
"It's just people, Maddie. They know who you are. They've seen you a million times on CNN."
"Yeah, but that's just me talking to a lady with a camera. That's not an entire convention center of people."
"You'll be just fine, honey," he said. "You've got more guts that you know you do." She sighed. "Why don't you play something else for me?" He flipped through his sheet music and put a set on the music stand.
"Oh," she said, glancing at the music. "I know this one."
"Really? How?" She tapped her ear. "You learned how to play this song by ear? Just by listening to my album?"
"Well, Zac, think about it. I've only listened to it a million times and anyone who's the least bit musically inclined would be understand it and eventually learn to know it."
"Show me." He took the music down and put it on the floor. She began to play it perfectly. He smiled. "You're beautiful."
"You're just turned on by the fact that I'm just as passionate about music as you are."
"True." He kissed her.