"I swear, every night we get less and less people," my older brother Isaac muttered as he handed off his guitar to a roadie and wiped the dripping sweat from his face. I watched him as we quickly fled the backstage area of the arena and into our tour bus. "For once Id like to see some people on the second level." He looked at me for a reply, but for the first time in my life I didn't have anything to say.
I understood what he meant, however. On our first tour, our "glory days," our three brother band played to sold out arenas with big screens and people on the lawn who couldn't even see us. Now on our second tour, we played to maybe a thousand a night. It was a drastic shock. I believed in our new album and we lost a lot of people. Isaac says it was because we took too long to get another album out. My younger brother Zachary says it's because the music scene has changed and so did we.
It's kind of a blessing in disguise, for me at least. We've needed a break from being celebrities. This year we have enough fans and have enough freedom to do what we please without being hounded by people all the time. When we were big we had no resting time, and now we have time off and time to do things for ourselves because we aren't on such a tight schedule.
Zac likes the break we're having from the fame but he doesn't like the fact that we're losing what we thought were loyal fans. He doesn't like fame. He never really did. He thinks it's a corrupt business that corrupts people. He used to shine for hours in front of a crowd like he was born to be on stage but lately he's been late to shows and reluctant to go on stage. He was never comfortable in front of the camera and he still isn't--stick him in front of a camera and he'll quietly ask away from the microphone, "Are we done yet?" I'm sure if I told him it was okay to quit, he'd be gone before I could finish the sentence.
Isaac is a different story. He loves what we do to no end, and that includes everything that comes with it. I have never heard him complain about the workload and the overcrowded schedule. I'm sure he thinks about it often because life has been so hard to live lately. Since we're on the road so much, he has to be away from his girlfriend, however Ike is good. He knows how to deal with our hectic life. He always has a smile on a face and a steady head on his shoulders. I admire him for that. He's always been so sturdy through everything we've ever done, while Zac and I stumble behind. Even though we've been so busy with such little rest, trying to get ourselves out in the open again, he knows how to keep a good sense of humor about everything.
How has fame affected me? I don't even know anymore. Sure my brothers are tired and all, but they aren't in front, like me. I hate being in front. There are just so many responsibilities that come with the position and so many things I have to do to be perfect. I have to be careful how I cut my hair and how I dress because the attention is always on me. I hate the attention always being on me. I'd rather it shine on all three of us equally, but it never works that way. The record company says I have to sing lead on all the songs. The photographers say I have to stand in the foreground. Everyone says I have to be the front man. I just don't know how to deal with that. I guess when I'm out there it seems natural for me to be loud and showy, doing odd things like climbing over the speakers to visit the fans on the first balcony, but when we're not performing, I don't know what to do with myself.
Zac and Isaac don't seem to mind that I've always been the poster boy of the group. I've never been lectured about it. They've never told me that I'm going out of line with this fame thing, so I must not be too bad. I know Isaac had a problem with it in the beginning. The focus was almost always on him before we recorded our first major label release. Being the oldest, he sang lead on most of the songs. He always had control and attention because he was the oldest and that's the way things worked. It took him a while to get used to being in the background when the company decided to use my voice over his. Zac never had a problem with it. Zac was always happy to be the one in the background. He always wanted to be as far away as possible without being completely out of the picture. He's very shy. He always has been. In the beginning when he wasn't used to having a camera in his face all the time, he'd act out to get over the awkwardness, which only brought more attention to himself. He was just a kid, and his silliness was to be expected with his age, but he hated the attention. He tried to get over that as quickly as possible. He grew older fast due to the heavy workload and constant traveling, but his persona was already in place and if he didn't do something loud and showy, he'd get questioned. "Are you having a bad day? Are you in a bad mood? How come you're not acting silly today?" When we disappeared to record our sophomore album, he took the three years to get over any kind of awkwardness he had in front of the camera. When we reemerged he was his regular self again, and by that time we'd all changed so much, no one questioned it.
The first few minutes after the show ends are the absolute worst. I am so tired right now, but I'm still so excited from the energy of the crowd that I can't sit still. It's like I have no energy, but if I sit down I'll want to get back up and do cartwheels around the tour bus. Zac doesn't get like this; he ran from the stage to the tour bus and by the time he arrived his energy depleted and fell asleep on the couch. I wish I could do that. There's still adrenaline running through me but I'm so tired that I can't think straight. Isaac's the same way as I am.
I sat down on the couch, my heart racing in my chest and my eyes closing. I looked down at Zac next to me. He was sprawled over the couch, his legs hanging off one end and his head near my legs. His mouth was wide open and his hair was in his face. He was snoring.
He'd gotten so big so quickly; I'd barely noticed with how busy we'd been. He was almost taller than me. There was no doubt he was still growing, it seemed like he got bigger every day. I guess I'm used to him being a little boy that I can't fathom how big he'll be when he's my age. Not only was he getting taller, years of being on the drums paid off. His shoulders grew wider and his arms thicker. He outgrew the stage where he could eat fatty snacks all the time without gaining an ounce, but he hasn't outgrown his love for snack foods. It's starting to show, but it really doesn't matter. With what he's wearing and how broad his shoulders are becoming, it looks like he's just packing a lot of muscle. And the people who've noticed it's not muscle love it, including our little sisters. Zoe in particular would run up to him when he was lying down and throw her arms around him, resting her head on his stomach. ("He's my teddy bear," she says).
When we arrived at the hotel I didn't want to wake him up. When he was littler, Dad would pick him up and bring him inside, but now he's gotten to big for anyone to carry and I was not about to let him sleep on the bus without anyone else in here. Isaac already got off the bus and was ready to run inside and crash, leaving me to wake Zac up. I hit him in the shoulder. He snorted and said something I couldn't understand, but didn't wake up. I hit him again. This time he woke up and looked up at me.
"Are we back at the hotel already?" he mumbled.
"Yeah. Wake up enough to walk and you can sleep once we get in the room." He nodded and stood up. I followed him off the bus, rubbing my eyes. At that point I had lost the excitement of the show and was ready to go to sleep. When I stepped off the bus, Zac was waiting for me. I smiled at him and tousled his hair before I followed him into the hotel.
The first thing I did when I got into the hotel room was take off my shoes and jump onto the bed. I've grown considerably since the last time I was tired enough to do this, and the bed creaked as if it was about to break. Isaac gave me an older brother "don't do that again" stare while Taylor just laughed. I wasn't ready to fall back asleep. The nap on the bus ride was enough to keep me up for another few hours. However by the time I'd turned around to complain, Isaac had already drifted into a light sleep and Taylor was about to fall over at the sink with a toothbrush in his mouth. Taylor is such a hygiene freak. No matter how tired he is he can't go to sleep without at least brushing his teeth and washing his face. I wouldn't be surprised if he took a shower. Ike and I, we just walked in here and didn't even both to shed any clothing besides shoes before we climbed into bed.
"I feel dirty. I think I'm going to take a shower before I go to bed," Taylor mentioned. I looked over at him in the bathroom.
"But you'll just end up taking another shower in the morning before we leave. There's no point."
"I still feel dirty. I don't like it." I shrugged as he shut the door and I heard the shower running. I crawled out of the bed and went out onto the ridiculously small balcony. The protruding ledge barely had room for a small table and two chairs. I sat with the back of my chair leaning against the sliding glass door, as far away from the three-foot tall railing as possible.
Despite it being summer, it was bitterly cold outside. I sat down on a chair and put my feet up on the table, shaking a bit. The show we'd just finished was a disaster. No one seemed to notice besides me how Taylor had been slightly out of tune all night. I decided not to tell him. If he did it again, I'd point it out. Also, my bucket of drumsticks was not next to my seat until the third song. If I'm going to get in front of that many people for that long when I don't even want to be there, the least they could do was give me my extra drumsticks in a timely fashion.
No, I did not want to be there. I don't want to be sitting in a hotel spending money that our record company is just going to sponge off us later anyway. Ugh, record companies. Ugh, everything that has to do with fame and money and all of that. I want to be at home. I want to go to a normal high school with my normal friends and go to the movies like normal fifteen year olds. I don't want cameras and people in my face all the time. The truth is, I'm ready to leave. I'm so alienated from my brothers. They actually like what they do and they like to spend all their time and effort to do it. I'd do anything to not be here.
I've thought about a lot of ways to get out. I've thought about quitting, running away or escaping somehow. Plot my own death maybe, and go to a deserted island to live by myself for a few years to later make my dramatic entrance by suddenly coming back from the dead. Maybe when I find myself and why I'm feeling this way, I can come back here to do this music thing. Until then, I'll continue to search for my way out.
Taylor came out onto the balcony what seemed like a few moments after I did, his short blonde hair damp. Taylor is a typical rock star and has been all of his life. He's the natural talent in the family. Ike and I have worked very hard to get as good as we are now. Taylor has been amazing from the beginning. He has those typical rock star looks too with the bouncy blonde hair and great blue eyes that all the girls like. He gets all the attention and whether or not he intentionally asks for it, it's always there.
He seemed happy to be clean. I snickered. What a square. "What are you doing out here?" he asked. "I thought you'd be asleep like Ike." I shook my head. Taylor sat down.
"I was just out here thinking. I'm not exactly tired anymore. I think it's because I'm so used to living on such a minimal amount of sleep, I'll be awake for a few more hours before I can sleep again." That was another thing I hated about my life. I'm tired all the time. There's never a moment when I feel refreshed and ready to do anything. My sleeping patterns are so messed up that even if I'm on a break I can't sleep well. I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep normally again.
"Well you should try to go to sleep anyway," Taylor advised. "We have a full day tomorrow and there's not time for you to take a nap in between shows. We have radio interviews until lunch and we're just going to a town twenty minutes down the road. Sound check and set up is going to have to be quick so we can be ready to perform at seven. I am going to make sure we're not late on stage again because we can't find you."
"I had my reasons for not being there!" My reason for being late was better than why I was actually late. I said I couldn't find my drumsticks, which was true. The real reason was that I was contemplating whether or not I wanted to go out on stage at all.
"I wish you'd be on time. You're taking this power thing too far. We can't be constantly late for shows because of you." I blinked. Did Taylor really just say that? I'm taking power too far? I don't even want to be here and I'm taking my power too far by being late for my own show.
"What are you talking about?" I asked. "I couldn't find my drumsticks. I can't play without drumsticks. I didn't even have my bucket of them until the third song. Don't go saying I'm on a power trip. I'm not. I just..." If I hadn't stopped myself, I would have spilled the entire contents of my grief on Taylor. He didn't need to know that. He looked at me expectantly. "I just...I don't know." I got up and walked back into the room.
Fifteen minutes before the show started, I once again found myself sitting in a dark room, wondering if it was worth it to show up. It's funny the things that go through my mind at these times. I did this so often that I was surprised no one has figured it out yet, but it's probably because no one really keeps track of us until it's time to go onstage.
I heard the screams welling outside as the opening act left the stage. Fans are so readable. Just from listening here in this little room, I can tell when the lights go out and when the opening act goes on stage. I can tell when they go off stage and when I go on, just by the different levels of the screams from the crowd. It's what I base my timing on. Usually a few minutes before we go on stage, the crowd grows impatient and begins to chant. Around that time I leave my dark room and find my brothers.
It's pathetic. I'd be a sight to see right now, in the corner of a small room in the dark, sitting on the floor, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees that are pulled up to my chest. In one hand are my earplugs, and in the other are my drumsticks. I try not to get so down on myself before a show because the change from being so depressed to having to put on my act for so many people is quite a feat. I never knew how hard it was to smile for so many people for so long if one really doesn't feel like it.
As the small handful of fans began to chant the name of our band, I knew it was time to come out of my room. My body physically wouldn't let me uncoil myself into my full height of torso and limbs until I kicked my legs out and forced myself to stand.
"Where's Zac?"
I knew I had to leave and face the day. It was just a few faces out in the crowd; I've done shows with a lot more people. It's just some girls. They won't care if I mess up or if I freak out and run off the stage...they love me whether I'm happy or sad. They don't care. They just love unconditionally. All I have to do is go out there and perform the songs that I've performed and practiced and sung a million times. Nothing new. I did this last night just twenty minutes down the road. Everything was just fine.
I fumbled my way to the door. I opened it a crack and looked around. If anyone found out where I went before every show they'd know where to find me. Someone would come and look for me and see me huddled in the corner. No one needs to see me like that. I've just got a little bit of stage fright. Nothing big. I'm just a little nervous and instead of throwing up all the time like I used to, I come in here and think in my corner for a little while.
Seeing that no one was around, I slipped out the door. It took me a while to get used to the brightness, but once I was able to see without my hands over my eyes, I headed towards the stage. Taylor bit on one of his nails nervously near the stage. He looked around frantically until he eyes landed on me. He ran over to me, wide-eyed.
"Where the hell have you been?" he yelled at me. "I've been looking everywhere for you! We were supposed to be on stage five minutes ago. What the hell is your problem? I thought I talked to you last night. Maybe you shouldn't have run away from that conversation so fast because you're late! You are not going to do this to me and to Ike again!"
"I'm sorry, Taylor...I'm really sorry. I just..."
"I don't care anymore, Zac. I don't care what you were doing. You obviously don't. You know where you're supposed to be and when you're supposed to be there. If you're not there it just shows to the rest of us how committed you are to this job." He folded his arms over his chest. I averted my eyes. Taylor always knew how to make me feel like as low as dirt. "You're not the only person here, Zac," he continued to my chagrin. "You're not the only person in the band. There's me and there's Ike plus there's the job of everybody who works with us. If you want to ruin all of our lives, then go right ahead, but don't forget how many people sacrificed everything so we could be here. Mom and Dad and the kids all gave up their time, their lives and their money so we could be here. The least you could do is be on time."
"I said I was sorry! What more do you want? Do you want me to get on my knees and grovel at your feet? And you say I'm on a power trip, Tay. With the time you took to yell at me we could have been out there and done the first song already. But no, you have to be all high and mighty on me. At least I'm here! I could have just not showed up. How would you feel then?" I yelled at him, finally being able to look back at him. "We have a show to perform."
I walked to the side of the stage, tapping my foot in Taylor's direction so he would join me. I put my ear monitors in, just in case he decided he wanted to yell at me any more. I could just as well have walked on stage by myself, but then he'd just yell at me again and I felt bad enough already. Isaac, who'd been quiet through the whole ordeal, joined me and we waited for Taylor. He took in a deep breath and shook his head, then joined us by the stage. Instead of doing a prayer and all of our pre-show traditions, I just walked out on the stage. Isaac and Taylor followed close behind, not wanting to skip a beat behind me. As I walked out on stage a spotlight hit me and I thrust my hands up in the air, acting my typical Zachary Hanson of the former number one band Hanson persona. All my anger and depression vanished as I read signs with my name and all the girls, who I'd thought were loud before, were screaming even louder. I couldn't understand why it took me so much to get here. I couldn't understand why I spent a half an hour in that dark room, balled up in the corner, wanting to be anywhere but here. As long as it's better now...