After a show a few days later in Louisville, Kentucky, Zac came off the stage and was ready to leave the arena and the state and go straight to the Bob Dylan's place. Although the official "party" wasn't for another twenty hours, he was ready to go. All he needed was a shower and a little bit of rest, and he'd be set.
"Hey Ron, let's go," Zac said to his manager, pointing out the way to go.
"Wait, you've got to stay a bit. There are a few fans who're coming backstage." Zac made a face. He was always ready to see fans, but he was more anxious to see someone he'd been a fan of his entire life.
"All right." He took the towel Ron was holding out for him and wiped the sweat off his face. He wasn't exactly in his best state, and was sure that he didn't smell all too well, but if they wanted to see him, he was up for it. He took out his hair and put it back again, trying to make himself look a little more presentable. When he turned around again, Ron was leading a handful of fans up towards him. It was a major change from the audience he'd seen the last time he had people come backstage�this time there was only one teenage girl. Among the others was a teenage boy, an older woman, a man that looked to be in his thirties, and another man he couldn't quite place.
"Hi," he said, waving. "Did you all enjoy the show?"
"Very much so," the man said. "You're quite a performer."
"Oh," Zac said, smiling. "Thank you." He felt a faint blush rise in his cheeks. The only thing that hadn't changed since he started this business so long ago was that he couldn't take compliments very well, especially from people noticeably older than him. "It's just a little hobby, you should hear what I do for a living."
The teenage girl hung behind while Zac politely took questions and handed out autographs. Most of the people lost interest quickly and went away, but the girl hung back and didn't say a word. Zac noticed her once they were gone.
"Well, are you shy or are you just impressed with the awesomeness that is me?" Zac asked, a teasing smile on his face. The girl stepped up and Zac put a hand to his mouth. "I know you; you're the girl that came backstage before. Don't tell me�" He thought a moment then snapped his fingers in realization and pointed to her. "The shoeless girl with the long hair. Madison."
"Well, it's nice to know you remembered me," she said, smiling back at him. He glanced down at her feet and she still didn't have any shoes on.
"You made quite the impression. What brings you here?"
"I've been to all of your shows." He raised an eyebrow.
"Really? You must have a lot of time on your hands. And you've made it backstage again? You must be very rich or very lucky." She took a piece of her extraordinarily long hair in her fingers and twirled it around.
"I'm a little bit of both, I believe."
"So you've really traveled all this way just to see my shows?" he asked, watching as she did that thing with her hair.
"Yeah."
"How did you manage that?"
"Oh, I have my ways."
"Well how are you going getting to the next show? It's Sunday in Los Angeles. That's quite a ways away�"
"I don't know. I don't think my car can get to Los Angeles in a day and a half. As it is, I barely got from Raleigh to Richmond the other day. It's not like I have a plane to hop on like you do."
"Why don't you come with me?"
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah! Come with me. Are you here with anyone?" She shook her head. "Great." He took her hand and led her out of the arena, towards the black Mercedes car that Ron was already waiting in. Opening the door, he allowed her to get in first before he got in after her and closed the door.
"On va," Zac said to the driver, showing off the little French he knew.
"Zac?" Ron asked from the front seat. Zac turned to him. "Who is this?"
"Oh, Ron, this is Madison. Madison, my manager Ron. She will be accompanying us to Los Angeles." They politely shook hands. Ron did not seem happy, but Zac looked past it.
"And what about your plans tomorrow?" he asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the strange girl by Zac's side. She was certainly different, with long black hair and light skin. She wore flared jeans, a tight shirt and no shoes. She looked at Zac, admiring him, without him even realizing it.
"She can come along to that as well," Zac explained. Ron opened his mouth to comment, but Zac spoke again quickly. "It's fine, Ron. Remember who's in charge here." Ron turned back around and faced the front as Zac put his arm around the girl he didn't even know. "You're going to have a blast, sweetheart."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you going to do about my car?" she suddenly asked.
"Oh, shoot," Zac said, keeping his language clean in front of the lady. "Ron, can you do something about her car?"
"Sure. I'll take care of it," he bitterly said. Zac looked at him, slightly confused, but didn't say anything. They drove the rest of the way to the airport in silence. Madison felt quite out of place but it didn't bother her because the person she'd been following adamantly since he first appeared in her city weeks ago had taken interest in her.
After going through the airport and getting on his plane, Zac sat Madison down in one of the more elegant rooms and excused himself to get freshened up. He took a shower, which still surprised him that he could actually take a shower on an airplane, changed, and went back out to see her. She had settled on one of the couches, bundled up in a blanket, her bare feet sticking out, and watched a television that she'd appeared to have just figured out how to use.
"Hey," he said, sitting on the other end of the couch. "Having fun?"
"I had no idea you had this much money," she bluntly said.
"Well, this is all Ron's doing. I have a message to give? Well I can spread it better with a plane and not a bus and more shows means more money so we can actually pay for how incredibly expensive this plane is."
"How expensive is it?"
"Well, it's rented, so it's about a thousand dollars an hour, if not that, then more. I've used it for weeks now and I'm continuing to use it until the end of my tour, whenever that is, so it's going to be quite a bill."
"How much are you getting from the shows?" Zac shrugged.
"I don't know. How much are the tickets?"
"About twenty bucks a pop."
"Okay. Multiply that by how ever many people come to each show, deduct expenses, and there you go."
"I have no idea how much either of those figures are," she said. "How many people normally come to your shows?"
"Well most of the arenas seat about ten thousand people and they've all been sold out, so you get about two hundred thousand dollars there. I don't know how much expenses are but I'm guessing no more than ten thousand, so you've got a hundred and ninety thousand left."
"You get that?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Every night?"
"No, not just me. I have a road crew, back up band, stage managers and the people who build the set, and then there's Ron�I really don't know how much I get a night. I just know it's enough to cover my plane and my hotel bills. I don't really need any of the extra spending cash. I'm touring all day and all night. I have absolutely no time for myself. What am I going to spend it on?"
"I guess it's just a little hard to believe, you know?" she said. "It's hard to believe one person could make that much money in one three-hour show." He raised his eyebrows and gave her a small smile.
"It's not worth it, though. This business is too grueling for me," Zac admitted, his smile fading as quickly as it came. "I started this just because I was at home and I was so bored I did nothing but write so I got all these songs out of it and I felt I should do something with them. I wanted to do just a couple of shows over the summer so I wouldn't be stuck at home with nothing to do, but a couple of shows turned to one or two a day, constantly traveling and never getting a break."
"I didn't know it was that bad for you�but you're not the only one it's been hard on. I've had to drive to all of those shows and barely make it there on time to see you perform every day in a different spot. Plus I had to pay twenty bucks a ticket just to get in," Madison said, sighed. "After all those shows, twenty bucks adds up and gas isn't exactly cheap anymore."
"I'm sorry I had to put you through that," he said, lightly laughing. "You know, I do pretty much the same thing every night, why do you have to go to all of them?"
"It's the little differences," she said. "Just the little things that make each show different and after seeing the first few, I was so addicted to you I just had to see the rest of them."
"Oh, so I'm your drug now?"
"You are definitely my drug of choice," she said. "I have a question, though."
"Yes?"
"Where are we going tomorrow, anyway?" she asked. He gave her a smile.
"Madison, I'd like you to meet Mr. Bob Dylan," Zac said, pushing an excited Madison in front of him on Saturday at Bob Dylan's soiree. Madison said a polite hello and shook the man's hand, not releasing Zac as she did so. She was obviously nervous and Zac couldn't help but smile at it.
"How do you do, little missy?" he asked her, giving her a smile. "Mr. Hanson, you've got quite a looker here. How old is she?" Zac looked over at her, opened his mouth, but immediately closed it again. He didn't know. Since she'd been with him, he hadn't the time to talk to her. Ron kept him busy, and the only time he wasn't completely involved with someone he was asleep. She mostly hung around; she was always there but they never had time to talk. Zac would occasionally sneak a glance at her and she always had a smile on her face, happy to be there, but he regretted not being able to get to know her before today.
"I'm sixteen," Madison answered for Zac.
"Ah, wonderful. How old are you, boy?" he asked, playfully hitting Zac as he turned to him.
"I'm sixteen too."
"Even better. Well, come in, come in, mingle around. There's plenty to do and probably not enough time to do it all in. Stay away from the bar and have a beautiful time," he said, tipping an imaginary hat as they passed by and he went off to greet the other guests. Zac had a hard time with this; he'd never imagined the Bob Dylan to be such a pleasant man.
"Quick," Zac said, stopping before they reached anybody else, "tell me your birthday and your favorite color, food, and movie." She smiled.
"November 15th, red, sweet and sour chicken with red sauce, and The Shawshank Redemption."
"I love that movie!" She giggled.
"Well, at least we have something in common," she said. He committed it to memory and they walked further into the party. She hung slightly behind him, holding onto one of his hands with both of hers, her eyes excited as she looked around at all the celebrities. She was dressed better than she normally was, wearing a skirt and a dressy shirt. She was actually wearing shoes today, but they looked to be some kind of dance shoe that was barely there.
"How come you didn't tell me we were coming here?" she asked.
"I wanted to surprise you," he said. "I know you like Bob Dylan, being that every time I sing one of his songs you're singing every word." She eyed him suspiciously. "So I've seen you in the crowds one or two times. It's hard to forget a face like yours."
"Really?"
"Let's go." He tugged on her hand and they walked towards the main room of Bob Dylan's fancy dancy home where most of the guests had accumulated. There were quite a few prominent people there from all aspects of the entertainment business�music, television, movies, and even some notables from radio.
"I feel out of place, nobody knows who I am." He gave her a smile.
"I know who you are."
"No you don't. You didn't even know how old I am." He shrugged.
"I haven't had anytime to talk to you. I don't have anything to do until tomorrow night so you and I can spend the rest of tonight and tomorrow together." She looked away and was stunned to come nearly face-to-face with Bob Weir. Zac said hello and introduced him and Madison.
"How are your brothers doing?" he asked almost immediately. Zac grimaced. That was the one question he knew he wouldn't be able to avoid tonight but it was the one question he didn't want to answer.
"They're doing good," he answered. "I talked to Taylor a couple of days ago and although I haven't talked to Ike he's doing well; they're sending a whole bunch of letters home and I haven't been there since I started so I haven't read any of them."
"Oh, well that's nice to hear." Zac nodded. They spoke a little bit longer before he left and Madison turned to Zac.
"How are they really?" she asked, looking up adoringly at him. He couldn't help but smile as her dark haunting eyes twinkled in the light as she gazed at him. She had the longest hair he'd ever seen (save his mother's), deep black to the point where it had blue tones in the light, and straight as an arrow as it rested smoothly down her back.
"You have the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen," he said. A soft blush came over her pale cheeks and she looked away. That solved that problem.
And they mingled with the stars there, Zac getting a compliment from nearly everyone there, much to his surprise. Madison hung close to him, still feeling out of place. He had to admit he enjoyed the attention of a girl hanging on him. When they left, he'd have to make sure to spend some time alone with her before he went to sleep. He was already exhausted!
"Well everybody," said Mr. Bob Dylan, standing up at the head of the room. Everyone turned around and looked at him. "Thank you all for coming. I'd most especially like to thank our newest superstar, Mr. Zac Hanson who's taken time out of his busy schedule to join us this evening." The people in the room turned around to look at an amazed Zac. He gave a smile and a small wave. "Don't look so surprised! I honor you, you're doing something we've all thought about doing since the stupid war started. The reluctant superstar�Thank you."
Zac scratched his head in bewilderment and not long after, the party began again.