Center Stage
Copyright© 2025 by Lumpy
Chapter 28
Memorial Day rolled around, and it was time for the parade I’d agreed to be in. They’d put me smack in the middle of the admittedly small parade, between the high school marching band and a tractor pulling a trailer full of 4H kids and a few of their smaller animals.
I was in the mayor’s convertible sitting next to him, which shouldn’t have surprised me. He was all about self-publicity, and he seemed determined to find a way to draft off of my quasi-celebrity, even if only a little. Not that I begrudged him. The town had started to get so inundated with people coming through trying to find me that Sheriff Gibbs had to hire another deputy. And they’d always been incredibly supportive.
They had even set up the central gazebo in the park, with a picture of me and the band at The Blue Ridge, and stuff from our songs, making it kind of the focal point for the people visiting town. I wasn’t sure how he was going to turn that into a way for the town to make money, but knowing him, I was positive he had a plan to do it.
It was embarrassing, though, and didn’t help with how alienated I felt from the kids at school. I avoided it every time I had to be near the park. Unfortunately, Kat thought it was hilarious when she saw it the last time she came home and demanded I go see what she insisted on calling my shrine. I remember my ears burning as I swear people were watching me look at basically a tribute to myself and probably thinking how much of a narcissist I must be.
So now I was sitting next to the mayor on the back of his convertible, basically on the trunk with my feet on the back seat, waving and making him look good. It had taken us a while to get going because Jean had insisted that she drive and that Mana ride up front, but the mayor had wanted his assistant to drive and did not like the idea of someone like Mana sitting in the car, drawing attention. Since there was no way Jean was going to let me go off on this parade alone, we settled on her riding shotgun and Mana kind of following along near the 4H trailer.
I’d been worried about the parade exactly for that reason. The idea of people from town, who I knew really well, seeing me sitting on the car like I was important or whatever, and it was also pretty embarrassing. Instead, the town was packed with people from all over the area, some from as far as Knoxville. There were even people who’d come in from other parts of the country, I guess to hear the concert I was going to put on at the end of the parade route. Strangers outnumbered people who lived here four to one.
A bunch held up signs with my name on them, and were shouting for me. It was flattering, but it didn’t help with my embarrassment toward people I’d have to see every day. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could swear people from Wellsville were glaring at me.
We were just passing Weaver Square when an entire group yelled out my name at the same time, causing me to turn and look at them.
Instead of a group of fans, which I’d seen a lot of so far, it was all my friends from lunch. They had very makeshift signs, mostly of cut-up pieces of boxes from one of the fast food places, but their signs were a lot less flattering than the others. “Charlie Stole My Puppy” and “Nelson Kicks Babies” were my two favorites. They clearly thought it was hilarious, because as soon as I looked over at them and they saw from my facial expression that I’d read their signs, they burst into laughter, practically falling over each other.
“Looking good, superstar!” Peyton yelled, which caused the rest of them to shout at me, too.
The mayor looked a little horrified that someone was sullying his great day and even the people around them were looking at them like they were crazy, but I liked it. I dropped my head and pretended to be offended, but I was smiling. It made everything seem a little less serious, which is exactly what I needed.
It got easier after that as we swung past The Blue Ridge and started to make our way back into town for the second pass through Main Street. Chef had everyone out front yelling and waving at us, and the place was packed already. Actually, all the places at Weaver Square were also packed, so maybe the mayor’s plan to use me to help the town make money was working.
We’d just turned back onto Main Street when a sudden commotion erupted. A guy, maybe in his early twenties, burst from the crowd, sprinting toward the car with something in his hand. Before I could fully process what was happening, Jean was in motion. She vaulted over the car door, intercepting the guy mid-stride, full-on tackling him, lifting him off his feet and slamming him into the ground.
People screamed, I guess thinking there was a gun, which is clearly what Jean had thought, and started to scatter in all directions. Except, I could see what was in his hand now.
“Wait...” I yelled, jumping out of the car.
“Get back in the car, Charlie!” Jean barked, looking over her shoulder at me furiously as she rolled the guy onto his stomach and yanked his arm hard behind him.
“He’s not armed! It’s just a marker!” I said, ignoring her and running over to them.
The guy on the ground, face pressed into the pavement, managed to turn his head. “I just wanted an autograph, man! On my shirt!”
Sheriff Gibbs came running up, out of breath. “Is everything okay?”
“False alarm,” I said quickly. “It’s okay, he’s just a fan.”
Jean reluctantly eased up and got off him but stayed between us as Sheriff Gibbs helped him to his feet. The fan looked shell-shocked.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, feeling horrible. “We’ve had some threats lately, and when you came running out of the crowd like that...”
“No, no, I get it,” the guy said, rubbing his arm. “Stupid of me. I just got excited, y’know?”
I nodded, then turned to Jean. “Can I sign his shirt?”
She gave a curt nod, but her eyes never left the fan.
I took his marker and signed his wrinkled and kind of dirty t-shirt.
“There you go, man. Sorry again about the tackle.”
“Are you kidding? Wait ‘til I tell people Charlie Nelson’s bodyguard took me down! Best day ever!”
Sheriff Gibbs put a hand on the guy’s shoulder. “Come on, son. Let’s have a chat about parade etiquette.”
As they walked away, I climbed back into the car. The mayor looked a little pale.
“Jean, that was incredible,” I said. “I’ve never seen anyone move so fast.”
She whirled on me. “What part of ‘get back in the car’ did you not understand?”
I blinked, taken aback by her intensity. “I- I saw he wasn’t armed...”
“And what if you’d been wrong?” she snapped. “I can’t protect you from threats if you don’t listen to me, Charlie. Next time you ignore my instructions, you’d better start looking for a new bodyguard. I won’t protect someone who doesn’t follow my instructions.”
“You’re right,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry, Jean. It won’t happen again.”
She gave a sharp nod. “See that it doesn’t.”
The parade kind of died out at that point, but we were almost to where they had set up the stage and most of that crowd hadn’t seen the commotion, so we headed up to where Lyla and Seth were already set up.
At least the concert came off well.
There was only one week of my senior year left, with graduation the following week, and I was missing one of the days to be back in LA. I’d insisted that it be only for the day, which was kind of unfair to Lyla and Seth who would have otherwise been able to spend a few days in LA on the studio’s dime.
I figured we’d make other trips out here though, so I’d make it up to them. There were a bunch of end-of-the-year senior traditions happening, including prom on Friday night, that I really didn’t want to miss. Things were so much different from the last time I’d been to a prom at the school, and I was really looking forward to it. Kat had even managed to talk her coach into letting her miss two days of practice so she could drive down and go with me.
Besides, we were in LA to talk to Hal about the summer tour, which was finally fully arranged, which would mean a whole lot of travel for Lyla and Seth, which I hoped would make up for this short trip a little bit.
They’d been here before, for the finale of the show, but this was the first time they’d been into a record studio building, and they were both in a little awe. They were staring wide-eyed, looking at the gold records of the various artists under the ARC label, and the signed headshots and posters. While it was very impressive, I actually liked that it was much more understated and simpler than GLR had been, which threw everything in your face.
I wondered if I could get them in to see that without making it weird with Phoenix and the other people I knew I’d pissed off by declining their contract offer.
Probably not.
Hal was back in the same conference room he’d been in for our contract negotiations, although without the wall of lawyers that he’d had with him then. This time there were only two people and I didn’t know them.
“Good. Good. You made it. Lyla. Seth. It’s good to see you both,” he said, shaking everyone’s hand. “This is Eleanor Voss, who will be managing the tour, and Levi Hale, who will be in charge of tour production.”
More handshakes all around.
“So, let’s talk about this tour. We’ve worked out most of the details with Warren already, but I wanted to get your sign-off on the overall schedule and plan.”
I was used to Warren just telling me where we were playing and I showed up, and really didn’t have any say in where we played. I didn’t know if it was because this was bigger or Warren had asked for this, but it was a new experience to be sure.
“Sure,” I said. “It’s still set for just after the Olympics, right?”
“Yes. Your first tour date will be three days after the closing ceremony and we’ll go for four weeks, although we are aware you will have school starting that fourth week, so we will only do weekend shows for the closing week.”
“I ... appreciate that,” I said, trying to think through what I’d seen in the UNC welcome package. “Even the week before that, there are some coming-into-school events that the tour will conflict with. It sounds like a really tight schedule.”
“We know that,” Warren said. “But this is about as short as a tour of this level can be, and maybe even too short, but we know these things usually take a full year to prep for properly, so we were always going to plan on a short schedule. I have talked to the university, and you can skip those events. They’re not happy about it, but I get the feeling they think you’re doing something that will ultimately help the school. They did ask that we mention you’d be starting at UNC, if possible, but I told them that might not be possible and didn’t promise anything.”
I wasn’t sure I was happy that Warren was contacting the school on my behalf, but I guess that’s what I had people for and this tour was a signature part of the beginning of my contract with ARC. I needed to make this work, so if I had to give up part of my college experience, then that was what I was going to do.
“Okay. Whatever you guys think.”
“Good,” Hal said. “So we’re looking at eight cities over the four weeks. Naturally, the last week is one city, so early on we’ll be doing five cities in fourteen days, so it will be a busy schedule for the first half of the tour. I know you’re used to this from your time on The Stage Tour, but for the rest I want you to be prepared for a very different experience. We’re going to be looking at much bigger venues, with much more complex setups. You’re not going to be able to just arrive at a venue, play and leave the same night. There will be on-stage sound check rehearsals the day before at a minimum to test the sound, lighting setup, and a myriad of other things.”
Lyla and Seth exchanged a look, I think realizing now that this was really real.
“What are the eight cities we’ll be playing?” I asked.
“New York, Los Angeles, Seattle, Miami, Chicago, Boston, Atlanta, and Houston.”
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