Part One: Thundersnow

[sunspot]

Twenty-two months ago, when Parker was just a regular girl, things were a lot more simple. She was still a girl now, of course (though there were tabloids out there that were convinced otherwise), but now she was also the number one selling, chart topping, most talked about pop star of the decade. That complicated things considerably.

It started with a stranger in a bar. She met a man who said he could make her a star and she'd signed all the paperwork he put in front of her right then.

Now, twenty-two months later, Parker secretly thought of that night as her deal with devil. The cute, overall fairly well-meaning devil, even if Nate had absolutely kept his word. Her third album was in the final stages of editing and was due to be released in the next two months.

"You know this calls for a world tour," Nate said one night not so long ago in Parker's hotel suite. "We should do a world tour."

Parker picked at the chicken parmesan that room service had sent up and sighed. "We just finished a tour."

"Just finished a US tour," Nate said, pointing to his laptop screen. "But look at these numbers."

She peeked around the edge of the screen and saw the jumble of numbers and columns. "I have no idea what I'm looking at."

"Your international numbers. Sales, chart numbers, regional hits on your website. That kind of thing." Nate seemed pretty pleased.

"So, these numbers are good?"

"They're great, actually."

Parker watched the screen, trying to make sense of all the figures, but it really only looked like the Sudoku puzzle from hell. "They really love me?"

"Everyone loves you," Nate confirmed. "So, let's go visit them."

And even though she'd never been out of the continental US, that was how Parker agreed to go on a seventeen week world tour.

--

"We leave in three days," Nate said through the door. "Parker, now is not the time for a breakdown."

"I'm not having a breakdown, I just want some time to myself." Parker said, trying her best to sound soothing. "I'll be ready to go when our flight leaves for the tour, but until then, I am staying in this hotel room and no one is allowed in unless I specifically invite them."

She waited until she heard Nate sigh and walk away before she relaxed. She wanted a few days to herself, to sort out her thoughts, to work on a song that she'd been kicking around for the last few weeks.

Parker really liked Nate. Nate didn't get it, of course, but they got along well and he was awesome at all the business parts of it and left her free to do a lot of the more artistic things. That was the theory anyways. Lately, it had gotten a little muddled in the practice.

Parker pushed herself away from the door and decided to run a bath. With all the hustle and bustle of every single day of her life, she rarely got time for things like a bubble bath and sleeping in, so that's exactly what she had planned for the days before she left on tour. Nate might not like it, but he didn't have a key to her room.

The water was hot and Parker finally, finally felt the months worth of tension starting to fade out of her muscles. She groaned and let her head rest on the tiles behind her. In a few minutes, she'd pour herself a glass of wine, but right now she was just going to sit.

There had been a big album launch party when her second album came out last summer. For a long time, Parker had felt awkward at the parties. They were her parties, technically, but they always felt like they were more for everyone else and she just had to go there and play a part. She always ended up getting jittery and nervous and having one too many drinks.

That was what Parker remembered while she sipped her wine in the bathtub that night -- the taste of good wine at an uncomfortable party. She much preferred it surrounded by bubbles. Bubbles didn't giggle behind their hands at her or stare at her with big, creepy eyes.

There was something on the edge of her mind, some parallel she was trying to draw between the bubbles and the kinds of people whom she routinely met at record release parties and in darkened VIP rooms. Something about slippery and clearly hollow. That's when Parker thought she should go to bed. She was just lonely. That was her biggest problem. Being famous and universally adored was lonely.

There was a knock on the door of the hotel suite. She had considered ordering from room service, but ultimately decided against it, and she'd made it abundantly clear to Nate she didn't want to be bothered until it was time to leave for the tour. She had a brief flash of panic and she cursed herself for sending her bodyguard away for the night under threats of death and mutilation. Parker wrapped herself in the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and hurried to the front door of the suite.

"Hello? Who is it? Nate, I said not to bother me," she said through the door, quietly sliding the chain over, just in case.

"Parker, open the door."

Parker heard her heart pounding in her ears, but not in an unpleasant way; she recognized that voice. Her fingers fumbled with the chain, trying to get the door open faster than her fingers would allow.

"Eliot!"

It was only some quick juggling on Eliot's part that allowed him to catch her when she jumped.

"Gah, dammit," he groaned, leaning on the wall. "Hi Parker, you wanna get off me?"

She shook her head, face burying in the crook of his neck. "Oh my god, oh my god."

"This is awkward," Eliot said. "Not that you're heavy or anything. Not that I drove for a hundred hours to get here and my back's all stiff or anything."

"Sorry," Parker said, letting him go and drawing back into the hotel room. "Come in."

Eliot followed her in, but paused just past the door and squinted in the low light. "Hey, are you crying?"

"I'm just... so fucking glad to see you." Parker said. She turned away from him not wanting him to see her cry on principle, even though he'd seen it before.

He dropped his duffle bag on the floor by the bathroom door and herded her towards the bed. "Come on, talk to me."

"You hate talking." Parker sniffled once and wiped her face on sleeve of the robe.

"I hate talking about me, but this is listening. And you love talking about you."

She glared and flopped back on the bed. "Do not."

"You do. Why else would you be famous unless you liked everyone in all your business?"

Parker sat up so fast she nearly flew off the bed. "Why would you --"

"Little one," Eliot said, calling her the nickname he'd had for her since she was in middle school. He held up his hands in surrender and let out a short laugh. "I was kidding, it was a joke."

When that didn't take the hurt look off her face, he sat on the bed next to her and put an arm around her shoulders gently. "You're really having a rough time of it, aren't you?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Parker rested her head on his shoulder again. She didn't want to talk about anything. She didn't even want to ask why he showed up at her doorstep in the middle of the night because what if it was an accident or something terrible had happened back home? She didn't want to talk about that tonight.

"You can go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning." Eliot didn't say goodbye or make any move to leave and before he could reassure her of anything else, she was asleep on his shoulder.

Morning came and Parker woke up with her face pressed into Eliot's hip. He was sitting up with his back straight against the headboard, reading a book. "'Morning."

"Good morning," she said with a voice hoarse from sleep. "Were you awake all night?"

"Sort of. Have you always snored so loud?"

Parker managed to give him a dirty look, which was a bit of a feat for that early in the morning. "I don't snore."

"All right, I stayed up all night after driving all day because I just love..." he flipped the book closed to look at the cover. "Danielle Steel."

"I hope you didn't lose my place," she said, sitting up and stretching. "It was just getting good."

"Well, I haven't got to any good parts yet, I don't think." Eliot set the book on the night stand. "So, how have you been? You missed the call this week."

There was one call a week, on Monday nights. One week Eliot would call Parker, the next week they would switch. It was one of the highlights of Parker's week every week, but she hadn't been able to call on Monday because Nate had some big dinner planned and she hadn't been able to slip out.

"I'm sorry," she said. Eliot smirked and Parker thought that meant she was forgiven. "And I'm okay. You know about the world tour, right?"

Eliot got out of bed and ran his hands through his hair. "Yeah, you said. Excited for it? You leave tomorrow, right?"

Parker busied herself with opening the curtains and flicking through some papers on the coffee table before she answered. It wasn't that she was nervous or anything, she just didn't want to have to think about saying goodbye to her best friend so soon after him arriving. "Yeah. Tomorrow afternoon. Mexico City is the first show, but we've got a big kick-off party tomorrow night in New York before the tour officially starts."

"Well, that's cool. I've always wanted to go to New York."

Parker turned to gawk at him, just a little. "Are you... You're not coming?"

"Hey, you're stuck with me. Sold the bar last week and I don't have anything else." He said it very matter-of-factly, like it didn't bother him that he'd just sold the thing that he had worked for as long as Parker had known him.

"You sold it? Eliot, that's..."

"Don't. Don't cry again."

"I'm not going to cry," she said, smacking his knee. "But you're acting like it's not even a big deal. That bar was your life for how long. My life, too."

Twenty-two months ago, Parker was just another twenty-something girl with an acoustic guitar, playing covers of Top 40 songs at her best friend's bar every Wednesday night. It wasn't even like she had big dewy eyed dreams of stardom or anything, it was just a mutually beneficial arrangement. Parker made a few extra bucks in tips and got to drink for free and the bar got to advertise live music to draw in a few more patrons (even if it was only ever hecklers and douche hipsters shouting about Wilco and bands that were cooler before anyone had heard of them).

One Wednesday night, as luck would have it and as all the Cinderella stories go, there was someone in audience who heard something else in Parker's voice, something special. Later, some might agree that all he had heard was the sound of cash register ka-chinging and sliding open, but then again, some people are cynics.

"Hi there," the man said, with a voice as slick as his hair, right after Parker had climbed down from the rickety makeshift stage. "I'm Nate Ford. Can we talk over there?"

Parker agreed, because she was still riding the buzz from a great set and three free beers. The bar was her home, her hang out place, her concert hall, and her favourite place to see Eliot, all in one.

She remembered being away for the first six months, on the road, trying to make it big and finally coming home again for a visit. All Parker had wanted to do was jump over the polished oak bar and kiss him. She'd avoided that, luckily, but the feelings -- both for the bar and the boy -- had never fully gone away.

It was a good thing Parker was famous and got all the free drinks she wanted, because she was really going to miss that bar. But if Eliot didn't want her to make a huge deal out of it, she wouldn't.

"Nate is gonna be pissed that you just showed up," she said, instead of bringing up the bar again.

Eliot grinned. "Yeah, I considered that." Clearly he was seeing that as most of the fun.

Parker rolled her eyes. It had only been a few hours and everything was the same as it had always been between them. She found that more comforting than she could put words to. Now instead of spending the rest of her time before leaving on tour worrying, over-analyzing, and feeling sorry for herself, she could just relax and catch up with her friend.

Late that night, Parker took out her acoustic guitar and played Thundersnow, one the songs off her new album, for Eliot. Besides Nate, Sophie and a couple guys at the recording studio, he was the first one to hear it and Parker was curious to hear what he thought.

The first few cords were tentative, because Eliot had always pushed her to excel with her music and a lot of her more recent stuff was different than her old stuff that he had always professed such a love for. Once she got into the song and got to the first verse, she just let it flow. Singing for an audience of one was a lot different than singing for her sold out crowds across the country. Parker felt a lot more connected, both to the song and to Eliot.

When she was done, she set the guitar pick down and looked eagerly towards him. Eliot nodded appreciatively. "It's good," he said leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes like he was deep in thought. "No, it's good."

"No?"

"Well, it's just... kind of trashy."

She snickered. "Thundersnow is trashy? I didn't even play anything else for you yet. Pretty much the rest of them are worse." Parker rooted around in the bottom of her oversized purse and tossed Eliot a spiral notebook. "Flip to the back; that's the finalized track list for my upcoming album."

Eliot flipped open the book and stared at the song titles. "You're kidding. You're seriously kidding. 'Banging In The Backseat'? Parker, this is just... Wait, you wrote a song called 'The Worst Bar I Know'? That had better not be about --"

"It's not, don't worry."

"All right." He was quiet or a moment, rereading the list. "I like the songs you write on your own," Eliot said. He was trying to phrase it delicately, that was obviously, but Parker could see right through him.

"You think I'm a ridiculous sell-out," she said flatly. She knew he did -- a lot of people did -- but what she wasn't sure about was whether she wanted him to deny it or own up.

Instead of doing either, he gave her a level look and asked, "do you think you are?"

She gave him a little half-smile that she thought looked mysterious but in reality may have just been a little scary. "I'm awesome."

"You're goddamn right you are. And that doesn't even really matter. Are you happy? Besides the crying you did last night, which I'm going to say was because you were so happy to see me that you couldn't contain yourself. Do you like this life you have now?"

"...Yeah. It sucks sometimes, and I get lonely or whatever, but then I call you or have some guy buy me a party and I feel better. And I get to spend all my nights singing and dancing and wearing awesome dresses. And I'm rich. Like rich-rich."

Eliot snorted back a laugh. "And as tactful as ever. But that's my point. You're happy with your work, so fuck anyone who tells you that you should feel bad about selling out."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, fuck 'em. I mean, maybe you should donate a little money to charity of something, just for karma's sake, but in general, fuck 'em."

Parker set her guitar aside and lunged across the coffee table to hug him, shifting the armchair he was in back a few inches across the floor.

"Yeah, I'm great," he laughed, patting her back easily. "Which is why you're going to be so lucky to have me on this tour."

--

"You are absolutely not coming on this tour with us," Nate said bluntly, motioning for one of the burly security guys when Parker and Eliot showed up at airport the next afternoon.

"Nate --"

"No, Parker, this isn't a game, this is actually a serious thing."

"And so am I. He's coming."

"The budget doesn't allow for last minute staffing changes. Especially not when he doesn't actually do anything." Nate took off his sunglasses and fixed Parker with a hard stare. She didn't budge.

The airport security guy was edging closer, but wasn't outright approaching them yet. When Parker glanced around and saw the look on Eliot's face, she didn't blame the guy.

"Fine," Nate said finally. He clearly knew the dangers of arguing with Parker when she put her mind to something. "But I'm not happy."

"That's not important, dear," Sophie said, breezing by them all and heading for the gate. "Just so long as our little star is happy."

"That's what counts," Nate grumbled. He made a few quick tapping gestures on his phone and then glanced up to size Eliot up again. "Do you have a passport?"

Eliot handed it to him for inspection.

"Criminal record?"

Eliot shrugged. "Got wiped when I turned eighteen."

"What's your drug of choice that you're trying to get her hooked on? Pill popper? Speed freak?"

Parker just rolled her eyes. "Nate, I promise he's clean and that I'm not going to do drugs. Can we go? Big party in my honour about to start and I want to be there. You said open bar, right? And those little cheesy quiche things?"

"I called them yesterday and they promised they would have 'cheesy quiche things' for you." Nate's tone was halfway between exasperated and obliging. "Now let's get going."

Parker nearly danced down the gangway pulling Eliot along. "You're going to love the little cheesy quiche bites. They are practically the best thing about being famous."

He followed her, laughing the whole way. Once they were seated (in first class, no less), Parker started listing all the people who Eliot would have to know to be ready for the tour.

"And who's that?" Eliot asked, nodding the Sophie sitting next to Nate a few rows ahead. "Nate's wife?"

Parker chuckled. "Not even close. Sophie's my stylist."

Technically, Parker supposed, Nate's interfering with the creative aspect of their relationship had started with Sophie.

Now, Sophie was amazing and Parker really couldn't imagine a concert, tour, party, or red carpet without her. But Sophie was Nate's idea, Nate's hire, and Nate's friend even though she was directly tied into Parker's artistic expression.

Sophie was brought on originally because Parker needed a hairstylist, but it quickly turned out she was great at makeup too.

"You're sure you don't mind?" Parker asked for the tenth time.

"I told you, Parker, I'm happy to do it!" Sophie said, patting her shoulder and turning her around in the chair again. "But do you think we could do something... a little bigger?"

"Bigger how?" Parker thought her hair was plenty big. Sophie kept doing new things, things Parker never would have thought of on her own, but that was a good thing. She definitely had rockstar hair now whereas before she had only ever had Parker hair. Now Parker hair was synonymous with rockstar hair and sometimes that was the best accomplishment she could think of.

"Bigger with glitter," Sophie smiled.

Parker smiled too.

It had started with glitter and eyelash curlers, but soon it was feathers and more glitter and metallic everything and it only got bigger from there.

"Parker, I'd like to talk for a moment, if you can spare it," Sophie said with a solemn expression when they met for an early afternoon brainstorming. Parker was playing a show in Los Angeles that night to a sold-out crowd bigger than any she'd had before and Sophie's suddenly sombre demeanour was not helping her nerves at all.

"Oh god," Parker groaned. "Don't quit. I know I was a little nasty at the beginning, but that's just because I thought Nate thought I was useless, but now it's like you're the only one around here who really gets me."

Sophie grinned. "Oh, Parker, I wouldn't leave. You're too precious. I was going to ask if you would take a look at my notebook. I have a couple ideas for costumes and whatnot that I'd really like your input on."

"Costumes?" She perked up immediately; Parker liked costumes. She liked ones with lots of frills and sequins and she liked to make sure each one was more outrageous than the last. If Sophie had ideas, Parker was eager to hear them.

Sophie flipped open a sketch book and slid it across the table just as the hotel staff brought in breakfast. Parker loaded up a plate with wheat toast and bacon and thumbed through the pages.

"Sophie, these are... awesome." Parker reached for the peanut butter without taking her eyes off the colours on the page. "What's this, glass?"

"Yeah, that was my idea, but we can use something else. Pyrex, maybe. Or Lucite."

"It'll be heavy," Parker said doubtfully, but already the idea were pouring through her mind, invited by Sophie's excellent drawings.

Sophie nodded. "I know, that's why there's hardly any of it."

Parker finally tore her eyes off the page and look up at Sophie. "Oh... oh, that's good. That's really good." She grinned. "Can you keep coming up with stuff like this?"

Sophie nodded. "I'd like to, if you'll help. I like your style and I think we work well together."

"We do, we so do." Parker was grinning like a loon and threw an arm around Sophie.

The Lucite dress was the centrepiece of Parker's first-ever music video for her song Pretty, Pretty Girls and it was the talk of the international water cooler for a couple weeks. A couple weeks was a long time in show biz.

Sophie made herself indispensible with that idea and had come up with about a million more awesome ideas since then. Including the dress she'd snagged from another one of her stylist friends for Parker to wear to the kick-off party that night.

"My dress for tonight is so awesome," Parker told Eliot. "Purple and sequins and classy, but so much fun. And we're putting feathers in my hair." She kicked up her feet and nudged him in the shoulder.

He chuckled. "Pretty excited, hmm?"

"I am. I'm excited you're coming too."

"So am I."

--

The music was loud and thumping when they arrived at the party, and Parker recognized one of her songs instantly, it was the title track from her second album, Pistachio Mustachio. It was an upbeat album with what she thought was a good mix of meaningful and irreverent and the song that was playing definitely counted is one of the sillier ones in her collection. The photo shoot for the cover was another amazing Sophie and Parker collaboration with the most magnificent false moustache Parker had ever seen. She had kept it after the shoot and whenever she saw it, pinned to the lid of her traveling trunk with other photos and mementos -- her secret home away from home wherever she was -- she smiled.

Parker took a deep breath and tried to hang onto the funny fake moustache moment as she walked into the party with Eliot in tow. It turned out to actually be a nice party. She didn't know what she had been so worried about. Something just gave her a feeling that it would be a bad night, she supposed. Silly feelings.

"These are pretty good," Eliot agreed after swallowing his twelfth cheesy quiche thing of the evening (and they'd only been there half an hour). "I don't know about the best though." He was eyeing the closest waitress as he spoke.

"Come on," Parker said, smacking him on the shoulder. "At least try not to drool all over my party."

They were shouting over the music just to hear each other, and it was a little too dark and a little too warm, but Eliot seemed impressed by his first famous music scene party, so Parker wasn't complaining. She found just having him around was improving her mood. She had been worried about the tour, and nervous about being so far from home, but if Eliot was coming too, she could pretend it was just another one of their adventures, like the trip to Arizona or the time with the couch on the boulevard.

"Parker, bathroom," Sophie shouted by Parker's ear, taking her elbow and dragging her from the dance floor.

Parker leaned on the cool porcelain of the sink, feeling the bass reverberating through the floors and walls while Sophie went into the stall.

"Hi. Cool party, right?" Parker smiled nicely to some girls who were staring at her with wide eyes. They scattered quickly once Parker spoke up.

"Funny," she commented to Sophie, who had just emerged to wash her hands.

Sophie looked at her in the mirror. "What's funny?"

"I just think it's funny how people still act all stupid and giggly at me when this party is for me. Like, obviously I was going to show up."

Shaking her wet hands out over the floor, Sophie smiled. "Oh, that. Yes, well, I suppose that will always happen, so you'd best get used to it. I thought we were going to talk about your new beau."

"What?"

"Eliot. You know? The handsome one who showed up in your hotel room the other night and hasn't left yet?"

Parker laughed. "Eliot? No, no, nothing like that. He's my best friend and everything, but nothing like that. Gosh, no. I've known him since grade school. That would just be weird. So no. No."

Sophie's smile widened and Parker felt her face getting warm for no reason other than complete embarrassment.

"Right, of course not. I'm clearly mistaken," Sophie said, patting her damp hands on her skirt. "I'll just forget we ever even had this conversation, all right?"

"Hmm," Parker said, not willing to say any more because Sophie had that evil twinkle in her eye that Parker knew would get them both in trouble with Nate if Sophie was allowed to continue. Nate called it 'Sophie's bad girl look' and though it had only ended in a screaming match at a police station that one time, Parker was still very wary of it.

"You just make sure you're taking care of you first," Sophie said. It was like one of her catch phrases or something, one that often annoyed Parker. Nate flat out refused to let her get a cat, so who else would she be taking care of?

Sophie left her at the bathroom exit so Parker wandered over to the bar and picked up another drink. It was only her second of the night. Nate had been pretty firm that she shouldn't party too hard. They had a long flight very early in the morning and then three concerts in two days in three cities once they got to Mexico.

Just as Parker turned away from the bar to find Eliot again, a familiar song came over the stereo system. It was one of the less popular songs from her first album. One Million Dollar Kisses had been one of the songs her and Nate had fought about pretty intensely in the early days. She was only partly pleased with the way it had ended up sounding, though Nate still argued tooth and nail that if they had have done it her way, it wouldn't have been any more successful.

Parker always felt awkward about hearing her own music at these parties, but she really liked One Million Dollar Kisses. As she started to nod along to the music, she realized it wasn't as familiar as she remembered. "Is this a remix?" she said aloud, if only to herself.

A quick survey of the room revealed a DJ table tucked away under a flight of stairs in one corner. She headed over there, drink in hand, to find out what was going on with the song that was playing, but stopped about four feet short.

The guy behind the table, presumably the DJ, was gorgeous. Not just one of those clearly, easily, pretty people that these big parties seemed to attract, but actually genuinely gorgeous. He had a look of super intense concentration on, like he was really into the music, which was what she the most attracted to. Parker liked passion and dedication in people, especially in gorgeous men who had passion and dedication to music.

He looked up and caught her eye, and she immediately looked away and pretending she was suddenly interested in the contents of her champagne glass, and when she ventured a look back up, he was still watching her, vague smile playing across his face. Parker felt that smile as a little wiggle in her stomach that travelled quickly downwards and flared in her special sparkly place.

Parker threw back the rest of her drink for luck and marched up to his table. He waved her around and pointed to one the laptop screens. She had no idea what he was trying to show her, but she smiled and nodded politely. It was quieter now that she was standing behind the speakers, so she figured she'd try a little small talk before just point blank propositioning the guy for sex.

"Hey," she said.

He grinned again and shrugged, twirling a finger over his head to indicate something -- either that the room was too loud to hear her or that he was secretly a helicopter, Parker wasn't sure. She chuckled a little,

He said something back, but Parker didn't catch it, so she guess his finger wiggle had meant the noise thing. She shook her head at him and they both smiled awkwardly at each other. After a moment that went on for far too long, the guy made an exasperated 'I have an idea' gesture with his hand on his forehead and clicked a few things on the laptop to his right.

It opened up a notepad document and he typed 'Hey, I'm Alec, it's nice to meet you.'

'Parker,' she typed. 'Same to you. Where did you get this remix?'

'It's one of mine. Do you like it?'

He looked at her hopefully. She nodded, giving him a little one shoulder shrug as if to say it was all right. In truth, she was a little bit over the moon. She had heard tons of remixes of her stuff, but there was something about this one that was just... better. Like Alec had heard exactly what she did when she heard the song, but he put his own spin on it.

That helped her make up her mind, too. If he had the same head for music that she did, she was sure the sex would be good.

'Do you want to get out of here?' she typed. She wasn't sure where the boldness was really coming from, unless she could blame the two drinks she'd had. Even being famous and attending tons of hip parties hadn't turned Parker into the irrepressibly slutty popstar the tabloids made her out to be. Sure, she flirted, but that was basically it.

She shoved aside thoughts of what Sophie had said about her and Eliot because that was something she absolutely was not prepared to revisit tonight, or possibly ever.

There had been something, years before when Parker was in college, a week of maybes and almosts, but that was a long time ago and Alec was here and now which was both geographically and chronologically preferable.

Alec didn't bother typing anything in response to her question, he just opened iTunes and put on a playlist before tucking her arm under his and leading her away from the table and up the stairs. Once they got to the top and through a heavy set of fire doors, the noise of the party faded considerably.

"Hi," he said, smiling awkwardly again. "So, I'm Alec."

"You mentioned that. I'm Parker."

"Yeah, I know. Who you are, I mean. I know who you are."

"Maybe we should just not talk," Parker suggested, trying to be helpful and not knowing if she was coming off bitchy. Even if she was, he didn't seem to have a problem holding the door open for her and following her out, so clearly he wasn't that offended.

The hotel Parker and her people were staying in was three blocks east of the warehouse that was housing the party. She walked quickly and in silence and he followed in fashion. She glanced back at him while they walked and felt that same flip-flopping feeling in her stomach again. He looked so determined, but still a little shy. It would seem that he matched a lot of what Parker was feeling.

She was determined to see it through to the end, especially because she forecasted that it ended with orgasms. She was also still in the process of forgetting the feelings that Eliot had brought up again. Parker was loathe to call it a crush because that sounded so immature, but it was a crush.

Having a new guy around, if only for one night, would be good for her. Maybe she'd work out some of her Eliot issues and get him out of her system.

Alec must have known she was looking at him, because he looked up and caught her eye. He reached out and took her hand, tugging Parker right up against him. It wasn't something she'd ever think she would enjoy, and normally resisted anyone attempt to hold her hand, but Alec was making it work. She let him hold her close as they rounded the last corner to the hotel.

The sex was like a whirlwind. It was the only sex she'd had in months, since before her second album came out, and that meant she was going to enjoy it just on principle, but Alec made it easy to enjoy. He was a great kisser and enthusiastic, and she was able to put aside all the thoughts and anxieties in her head and just focus on the feelings.

Afterwards, he told her she was beautiful, which she thought was sweet. Unnecessary, but sweet. Then she showed him the door. The guy clearly knew who she was and if he thought that after one night of sex she was going to whisk him off to wonderful, new, jet-setting life, he obviously hadn't been reading the right gossip magazines.

Parker was slightly taken aback by how vindictive she suddenly was as she closed the door behind him with nothing more than a perfunctory 'good night, it was nice meeting you.'

She showered, changed, and ordered a sandwich from room service. It was still early, in the grand scheme of the party world, but since the rush of adrenaline and endorphins had worn off, she found herself more anti-social than usual. Besides, she didn't really want to be in the same room as that Alec guy after shoving him out the door before the sheets had even cooled off.

Alone once again in a boring hotel room so far away from home, Parker was struck with a wave of existential apathy. She wasn't sure what her purpose was or why her life was the way it was, but she couldn't bring herself to care either.

Maybe a huge tour would be good for her, she thought. It would get her away from the fake parties and recording studios and publicity things that she didn't really like and back to just the performing, which she loved. Maybe it would help get her back into a happy place; it would be exhausting, which would leave little room for anything else.

And having Eliot around would be good. He always had a way of levelling her out when she was upset or stressing. She had a few songs she was working on that he might be able to help with, too. It was Eliot who taught her to play guitar after all.

Parker must have fallen asleep thinking because Eliot was nudging her with his foot when she opened her eyes again.

"Hey, what the hell was that?" he asked, crossing his arms across his chest. "You went to the bathroom with your friend and never came back."

"Oh," she said, blinking back sleep. "Yeah, sorry, El."

"It's fine," he said. Parker could tell he was upset, not that she blamed him, but she wasn't in the mood.

"Hey, I --"

"What was his name?" Eliot asked suddenly, before Parker could even try to apologize again for ditching him.

"I beg your unbelievable pardon?"

"His name. I know you asked. At least, the Parker I've known my whole life would have asked." The edge to his voice could have cut something.

"Go to bed, Eliot," Parker said, trying to find her own edge.

"We're not going to talk about this?"

She thought he might be a little bit drunk, but she had worked with Nate long enough to know not to point it out. "No."

"... Fine."

"Fine."

--

Breakfast might have been awkward if they had had time for breakfast, but Nate was pounding on the door and rushing everyone out of the hotel before breakfast was even an option.

"I still can't believe he got you a plane," Sophie said as her and Parker shared a cab with Parker's full time body guard, Quinn, on the way to the airport.

"It's for all of us, Soph."

"Yes, but it'll be your face on the side of it."

Parker grimaced. "I hope you're lying. That sounds absolutely terrible."

There was a bit of quiet, just the cabbie's choice of talk radio for company, until Sophie turned to Parker with a very serious expression. "Why am I here instead of Eliot? Did you two fight? He still slept in your room, right?"

In the front seat, Quinn took that as his cue to start a loud conversation with the driver about basketball scores.

"Sophie, I don't want to talk about it," Parker said. She pulled a pair of oversized sunglasses from her carry-on bag and tried to hide behind them. But there wasn't sunglasses big enough to hide from Sophie when she wanted to gossip.

"He looked pretty upset," Sophie continued.

"Yeah, maybe."

Sophie smiled, a sad little half smile that Parker had come to associate with Sophie reserving judgement. It was a smile Parker got a lot from her and always made Parker feel like a kid again. "He's such an ass," Sophie said in a way that Parker understood was meant to be comforting.

"Maybe..." she said again.

"But how about the new fella'?" Sophie asked, perking up again. "He's kind of cute. Maybe that could be something." She said 'something' like a conspiracy.

Parker was confused. She didn't remember Nate telling her about a new hire. "New guy?"

Classic Nate, always micro-managing. She remembered their first encounter, that night twenty-two months ago at Eliot's bar. He'd approached her after her show one night.

"So, Parker," Nate said, once they'd dispensed with formalities. "What sort of representation do you have?"

"You mean like an agent?" She sipped her beer and tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand and not at the suddenly loud noise from the radio kicking back on.

"Yeah, like that. Who's your agent? Who do I contact if I want to book you for a gig?"

"Well, I play here every Wednesday, so most people ask me then. But you could leave a message here for me, if I wasn't here. Eliot's good about giving me messages." She flashed a smile at the Eliot behind the bar, who probably couldn't hear them over the noise, but glared at Nate anyways, presumably on principle.

Nate gave her a blank stare in return. "Okay. So you don't have an agent. I can work with that."

"Wait, you really want to work with me?" Every kid dreams about being famous, but Parker hadn't been a kid in years. She had a regular job now, and her own apartment, and she didn't live in a pop culture vacuum. She'd seen movies about the small town girl who gets sucked into a world of drugs and sex and rock 'n' roll by the handsome, mysterious big time talent man.

"Absolutely," Nate said, instantly and earnestly (Parker learned quickly that Nate could say almost anything in the world and still sound one hundred percent earnest). "You've got a fabulous voice. I really think you could go far. You just need one really good anthem, an image to sell it, and me."

And so far, despite the fact that didn't always see eye to eye, he hadn't been wrong.

Sophie made a disappointed noise. "Nate didn't mention the new guy? I told him he should clear it with you. The party last night was a dry run for the new tech person. Yeah, Nate hired the DJ from last night to do all the sound and light stuff on tour. He was pretty good, right? And I thought he was pretty cute."

Parker hated the fact that they were in a cab and not anywhere near a brick wall she could hit her head against. "You're joking."

"No? Why, is that bad?"

"It's great," Parker said, hoping to avoid all further discussion on the topic. Forever.

"Good because he's officially on staff. He and Eliot caught a cab with Nate right before us. Ooh, I'm excited for all this," Sophie grinned and continued to talk about tour things for the rest of the ride, but Parker stopped listening. She would be worried about Nate and/or Eliot finding out and tearing a piece of Alec, but she was more worried that they might just tear pieces off each other.

--

Nate had not been kidding when he told Parker they were going to do the world tour right. She had assumed that meant 'go to other countries, play music for people, do it well', and that was going to be part of it, but it also meant 'making a statement'. The statement was that Parker was great and everyone should love her which wasn't a statement Parker necessarily disagreed with, but...

"That's me. Literally me. On the side of a plane. Oh my god."

"Wow!" Eliot said with a bright laugh. "That is just... wow."

"It's not funny, it's disturbing," she said miserably, giving him a dirty look.

He laughed again and pulled her against him in a one armed hug. "It'll be all right. Look, little one, I'm sorry."

Parker pushed her face into his shirt and took a deep breath, immediately regretting it. He smelled good and now she was having flashbacks about his aftershave and the high school memories it was bringing back.

"I know. It's okay," she finally said when she'd swallowed down her feelings to avoid blurting out something she'd regret.

Eliot kissed her on the top of the head and they didn't say anything else about it.

Nate sidled up with travel documents and passports for everyone, and very specific directions before seeing someone else he hadn't lectured yet and chasing them down the concourse.

"Does he always micro manage like that? He wouldn't even let me pee this morning because we were like, forty one seconds behind schedule." Alec walked up to them with his paperwork in hand and a tired look on his face. "Because I seriously did not expect this when I signed up for the next however many weeks. I need my uninterrupted bathroom time, okay?"

"Hey, Parker, did you meet Alec yet? He's always this chatty. I think he's going to be... something technological." Eliot said 'chatty' like it was a terrible disease. In Eliot's mind, it was.

"Hi," Alec said, flashing her a brief grin. Parker tried to ignore the feeling of icicles simultaneously forming and melting in her stomach when he smiled.

"Hey." She braced for whatever he was about to say.

And nothing came. He was still smiling awkwardly looking between Parker and Eliot, but other than that, he wasn't berating her for being discourteous or a brazen hussy or anything else.

"Okay, we're ready to board. Everyone's got everything? Cell phones and stuff off, people! Quinn, you stick with Parker until we're in the air, right?" There was a flurry of movement when everyone on staff for the tour started moving at once, double checking bags and locating cell phones and talking excitedly.

Parker had flown more than a dozen times by now, so she was generally used to planes and the whole involved process of boarding and being seated and everything. Once, Nate had splurged and bought the two of them first class tickets from Orlando to Los Angeles. Parker had been so surprised at the difference she noticed. First class fucking rocked.

But nothing prepared her for her private jet. She stood inside the cabin, just standing there, in awe.

"Holy crap," Alec said, with a low whistle. "This is just..."

"Fucking awesome," Eliot finished happily.

The plane was beyond awesome, Parker thought. For her first American tour (10 shows, 3 states) she's gotten regular class, multi-layover flights, crappy motels, smelly cab drivers, and way too much fast food. For her second American tour to promote her second album (36 shows, 20 states), Nate had upgraded them to a tour bus. Parker thought she was in heaven...

But the plane. Oh, the plane was something else entirely.

"Not bad, hmm?" Nate said when he turned around and Parker was still staring admiringly at the soft colours and extremely comfy looking chairs. "See, I come through for you sometimes."

"You always come through," she said, throwing her arms around him.

Nate extricated himself quickly and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder instead. "Well, let's go sit down and buckle up for takeoff. It's about a five hour flight to Mexico City and the first show is tonight at nine. Sound check will take at least two hours. Lots to do, people, and very little time! Prep everything you can before we get there."

"We'll start on your hair once we're in the air," Sophie said, waggling her bag in Parker's direction. "I'm so glad we went with the mermaid theme for the first few shows. I have such ideas!"

"A mermaid theme?" Alec asked as he followed Nate towards the front of the plane.

"Best not to ask," Parker heard Nate say. "We just have to hope it doesn't involve a live octopus."

Parker hoped that too, but Sophie only had her oversized purse and not a cooler, so she thought she was safe.

"This is your captain speaking," came a voice over the overhead speaker. "If you could all find seats and strap in, we can get this show on the road."

Part Two