Center Stage - Chapter 20

Another few weeks went by and I was back to my old routine. Mostly. School, homework, practice. Rinse and repeat. The only thing I missed was that the last time it was like this, Kat was still in school with me and I saw her every day. Now I had to settle for nightly video calls, which just wasn’t the same.

Still, I was actually happy the tour was over and I was back again. After stagnation basically since before I went on The Stage, we were finally working on new music again. I had a few ideas that I was fleshing out, but Lyla brought an absolute banger out of nowhere on Thursday called Dirty Little Secrets that was fast, hard-hitting, and just like One Night Stand a hell of a lot of fun. We played it the night before and it got a great reaction. It wasn’t quite ready yet and there were a few points I wanted to tighten up, but she really was coming into her own with writing music.

Before I started homework, though, I checked my email looking for Warren’s update. Every Monday he sent a rundown of how the previous week had gone, and in the weeks since the end of the tour, that update had been better every week. I knew that couldn’t last, but for now it was exciting, seeing those higher numbers listed, week after week.

This one was no different, with a fifteen percent jump over the previous week. Alina had shown up on several more shows, this time denying there was a relationship, but really talking me up. Her management might have seen the denials as a bad idea, but every time she went on TV and talked about me, I was seeing a boost. That had a limited life, and we needed more than just random mentions by celebrities, but it was a good stopgap until the ARC deal closed and we started getting real marketing behind us.

Quinn had been adamant that was what we really needed if I was going to take it to the next level. Being on a steady show, being on tour, being mentioned on talk shows was great, and every bit of it helped, but none of it compared to real, constant marketing. I took her word for it. It had been over a year since I’d been with MAC, and they hadn’t done that kind of marketing for our album. There had been some, but it had been more appearances based for me, on radio shows and whatnot, than actual, national-level marketing, which ARC could bring.

The deal was taking a long time, which was very frustrating, but I didn’t take that as a sign that it would fall through. I trusted my team to fight for me to get the best deal possible and I trusted Hal to be fair and reasonable, and not walk away from the process. I made sure Warren and Benny knew I wanted this to happen, and while they could push for as good of a contract as they could get, I didn’t want them to hold so firm that it didn’t happen. I was more worried about Benny than Warren in that, since he loved to play hardball.

I finished my last pass through the numbers, which now included an update on social media, where both mine and the band accounts were really starting to grow, and then pushed it all aside to get started on my homework. I had a midterm on Friday and I wanted to do well on it. I’d gotten my grades back on track, but I still wanted to pull in a few more really good scores to undo the damage I’d done early in the semester.

I just started to find the spot in my textbook and write down notes when my phone buzzed. The number on the screen wasn’t one I recognized, but I’d had my number changed after the doxing, so only a few friends had this one, and it was a California area code. I hoped maybe it was an office line not programmed in my phone from ARC.

“Hello?”

“Is this Charlie Nelson?” a professional voice said.

“It is.”

Maybe I made a mistake because this felt like a sales call.

“Charlie, this is Daren Larson from the dean of admissions here at USC. I wanted to personally reach out and let you know how thrilled we are to have you joining us in the fall.”

“Umm, thank you. I’m excited about the opportunity.”

After Kat and I’s argument, I went ahead and accepted USC’s offer. Of the schools I had, they best met what I needed, although I still thought I would have been okay at UNC. Yes, Kat was right, their program wasn’t as good, but honestly at this point I was going to finish my promise to my mother. Yes, some more official training would have helped a little bit, but I didn’t think it would greatly change my career. Not where it is.

“And we’re excited to have you. However, I wanted to discuss a few things with you about your admission here. Nothing bad, I promise,” he said, I guess hearing how ominous that last sentence sounded. “As I’m sure you’re aware, you fall into a small category of students who attract a high level of public interest. This means we need to handle your admission process a bit differently.”

While I knew a lot of colleges I hadn’t even applied to were courting me, I didn’t really think about what that would mean for actually going there. It made sense, though, that they would have to treat the actual admissions, and maybe even attendance, differently.

“I understand. What do you need from me?”

“Well, word has already leaked that you’ll be attending USC in the fall. I should apologize for that since the leak was almost certainly out of our offices. Unfortunately, with students doing work-study on campus, it makes keeping secrets like this hard. While that normally isn’t a problem, you have again fallen into a small group in which it matters. We’ve been inundated with media requests for comments about your attendance, enough that we need to properly address it. What we’d like to do, if you’re amenable, is to fly you out here in a few weeks and hold a joint press conference around April fifteenth to officially announce your plans to attend. This way, we can control the narrative and hopefully minimize disruptions to your education.”

I wasn’t sure how truthful the ‘minimize disruption to your education’ part was. This was clearly more about the school building its own publicity off my name than anything else, but I remembered Quinn saying any chance to be in front of a camera with something positive was an opportunity.

“I see. I’m definitely open to the idea, but I think we need to loop in my publicist, Quinn Chandler, to work out the details.”

“Of course, of course. We’d be happy to coordinate with your team.”

“Great. I’ll keep that date noted, and once you guys get an outline of what you have in mind and Quinn signs off on it, she’ll get it on my schedule,” I said, then rattling off Quinn’s office number for them.

“Absolutely. We’ll take care of that right away. And Charlie, let me just say again how thrilled we are to have you joining the Trojan family. Your talent and drive are exactly what we look for in our students.”

I rolled my eyes. I’d already said yes. He didn’t need to keep buttering me up.

“Thanks. I’m looking forward to it.”

After a few more pleasantries, we hung up. Before getting back to my homework, I shot a text to Quinn, giving her a heads up and asking her to keep an eye out for the email from USC.

Hopefully we could get the ARC deal finalized beforehand, and maybe something more solid on the tour dates. If we were going to be on something released and likely to get news coverage, we might as well try to use them as much as they were using us.

***

Tuesday, I was looking forward to getting to band practice. I’d had some thoughts the night before, after my call with USC, about how to really push Lyla’s new song. It worked when I was playing it by myself and in my head, but that wasn’t always the case when we got everyone playing, so I wanted to see if it worked.

I honestly hadn’t felt this good about songwriting since just before we started working on our album, and it was making me excited for music again. I mean, I was always excited about music, but when writing songs is really working, it’s different than just performing.

Of course, it could be that I now knew we’d end up with a label, which meant we were going to have a chance to do another record, and that’s what was getting me pumped. Either way, I was looking forward to working on it.

I was halfway across the parking lot when my phone rang. Everyone who worked for me knew when I got out of school, and they were all getting better at timing when I’d have it turned back on since we had to leave our devices off while in class.

Except, it wasn’t someone who worked for me. It was Kat. Which was even better.

“Hey beautiful, what’s up?”

“Charlie. We’ve got a problem.”

She sounded worried. Like, back before she had help with her condition worried. I hadn’t heard her like this in a long time, and it instantly had me on alert.

“What happened?”

“Hanna stormed out of here yesterday, saying she was going to do it, that she was going to confront Professor Cross about seeing that other girl.”

“Oh no. I really hoped she’d forget about it. It’s going to backfire so bad.”

“It already did. She didn’t come back last night and I don’t think she’s been to any classes today. I haven’t seen her since she stormed out of here. No one has.”

“Maybe it didn’t go bad, or he convinced her to drop it, and she’s with Cross? Or maybe it did go bad and she’s just off feeling bad for herself,” I said, knowing those were far from the only options, all of which would be worse.

“It didn’t go well. By this morning, people were talking about a huge blowup in his office. Half the school’s talking about it. People who heard the fight said and heard her accuse leading her on, of sleeping with her, and now cheating on her with this other student. Sleeping with her, with another student. Everything. He denied it all, said Hanna was a disturbed girl who’d become obsessed with him and said she’d been stalking him. She started screaming that he was a liar and ran away crying. Someone posted a video of most of the fight to Switcher, and it’s being shared around. A lot.”

“Damn. Do you think she’s headed here?”

“I don’t know, but she doesn’t miss classes. Ever. It’s got me worried.”

“I know. It’s only been a few hours. Let’s give her some time. I’ll try calling her and maybe have her mom call the school and see if they can’t find her. Let’s not freak out yet.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” Kat said, sounding marginally relieved. “Let me know if you hear anything.”

“Of course. I’ll call you back either way.”

We said our goodbyes and hung up. I immediately called Hanna’s number, but it rang a bunch of times before going to voicemail. Frowning, I hung up and tried again. Same thing. After the third attempt with the same results, I left a message.

“Hanna, it’s Charlie. Call me back as soon as you get this. It’s important.”

I ended the call, staring at my phone for a moment, trying to think. The only places she would go are her dorm or here. Maybe she’d call Chef. I texted him, letting him know what was going on and to be on the lookout for a call from her. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I hurried to my car and headed home.

The drive felt like it took forever. I told Kat to be calm and wait to see what happened, but I was having trouble following that advice. A whole range of scenarios was playing through my mind, and none of them were good.

Hanna’s mom’s car was in the driveway, which was good. I wanted to have this conversation in person. Pulling into the driveway, I practically leaped out of the car, rushing to the front door.

“Mrs. Phillips!” I yelled out as soon as I was through the door.

She stuck her head out of the kitchen, looking concerned, probably hearing the panic in my voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you heard from Hanna?”

“No. Not since last week. She said she had a project she was working on, so I thought she was busy. Did something happen?”

I quickly filled her in on Cross’s new victim, Hanna’s plan to confront Cross about it, and what Kat had told me about the blow up at Cross’s office.

“I’ve tried to call her a bunch of times, but it keeps going straight to voicemail and Kat says she didn’t go to class today. I’m really worried.”

“I’m going to call the school,” she said, reaching for her phone.

“Maybe don’t bring up…”

“I know, Charlie,” she said, snapping at me.

It was unlike her, but I’d just given her terrible news, and didn’t blame her. I was feeling the same way. Unfortunately, the school was no help. It took Mrs. Phillips almost thirty minutes to get someone who had some kind of ability to help, and all they could say was that Hanna was an adult and there were limits on what information they could give out. We then tried campus police, but it had been less than twenty-four hours and she could be at a friend’s house or anywhere else.

They said college kids sometimes did this, and often did not communicate with their families when they were going out of town. Mrs. Phillips tried to tell them she’d missed classes, but they blew that off too and said they could only suggest continued to call her, and if we hadn’t heard anything byt he end of the week, to put in a missing persons report. 

I got the distinct feeling they didn’t even look up her name to see if there was anything about Hanna. They were just trying to get us off the phone.

I canceled band practice and we spent the rest of the evening glued to the phone. I made several more calls to Kat and even called Victor to see if he could keep an eye out for her, like that would have done any good. I finally managed to convince Mrs. Phillips to go to bed around eleven. I didn’t follow my own advice and sat up another hour, stewing, before I finally hit on what might have been a bad idea.

I scrolled through my contacts for a minute before finding the person I was looking for. It was just shy of midnight, and way too late to be calling anyone, but if I didn’t take care of this now, I wouldn’t go to sleep all night.

“Charlie?” Isaiah, the guy in charge of my security, said sleepily. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

“No, it’s not. I need your help.”

“I don’t see anything about an alert…”

“It’s not that. My friend, Hanna… she’s on your list of approved people, the daughter of Mrs. Phillips. She’s missing.”

“What do you mean, missing? I thought she was at college.”

“She is but… she’s been dating one of her professors, who has a habit of dating students, and they had a huge fight. She left campus and no one has seen or heard from her since.”

“Charlie,” he said, a little more awake and a lot more patronizing. “Sometimes kids in college…”

“No,” I said, stopping him. “This is not that. She is my best friend and I know her. She isn’t at a boyfriend’s house. She isn’t off hiding. She isn’t off partying. Something is wrong, and we need to find her.”

“Okay. I get that, but Charlie, I’m not sure this is something we can help with. We do personal security, not private investigation. Have you called the police?”

“Yeah, but they brushed us off, saying the same thing you did. That she’s a college student and probably off having fun or something. Look, Isaiah, I know this isn’t your area, but it also isn’t that far and you guys pitched us that most of your personnel, including you, are former law enforcement.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But nothing. You guys work for me, and this is something I need. I’m not trying to be a dick, I’m really not, but this is incredibly important for me. Please. Hanna’s my best friend. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

There was a long silence on the other end.

“Alright,” he finally said. “I’m not making any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Isaiah. I’m sorry for putting this on you and being difficult. I really do appreciate it.”

“It’s fine.”

“Okay. Just, keep me posted.”

“We will,” he said, and hung up.