Not Another Diva

17 - Bodyguard or Boyfriend?

The car pulls up to the Roxy at exactly three PM. Brianna actually seems excited. It's the first time I've seen her attend a public event, or anything outside of her house or office for that matter, without looking completely overwhelmed. She's usually shaking from terror, but this time I can tell it's a different type of energy filling her. And I'm so happy for her.

"I still can't believe it when I see fans lined up like this. I wonder how long they've been here?" Brianna is looking out the tinted black windows, watching the fans stare back at the car and point, obviously wondering if their music icon is actually inside. A few of the girls in line are jumping up and down, some have their phone cameras pointed and ready to get a shot of whoever steps out.

"Are you ready for this?" I ask, my arm still wrapped around her shoulders as she's leaning over and taking in the view.

"More than I have been before. Let's do this." She nods her head toward the driver, who dutifully exits the vehicle and walks around to open her door. Char is waiting inside, already having spent several hours on site making sure everything is perfect. Clinton is standing at the door, acting both as undercover bodyguard, and basically a bouncer scoping out the fans as they enter. I'm confident he's got everything under control.

The door opens and the screams outside intensify. Brianna just barely sets one foot out the door, practically just her toes at this point, and the crowd looses their collective minds.

"It's her!"

"Oh my gawwwwwwwwd!"

There's only a few recognizable words thrown here and there amongst the din of voices. Most of it is inaudible shouts and whistles. By the time Bree is actually out of the car and waving at the crowd, it's pretty off the hook. This is my first time with her at a fan event. Most of the time we've been bombarded by photographers, rather than hordes of fans. This is a different vibe entirely. It's less obnoxious, to be honest. I don't feel like these people are trying to catch us in a bad shot, just unbelievably excited to see their star.

As I step out, I smile, happy that Brianna is finally able to enjoy this. But what I didn't expect was to hear my name among the screams and hollers.

"Zack! Oh my gawwwwd, it's Zack!"

They almost seem as excited to see me as they are to see Bree. My cheeks heat at the display in front of me, which makes the recognition that much worse. I don't want to appear embarrassed by it, but sheesh, it is pretty uncomfortable. I'm just here as a boyfriend so it's weird to have these fans shout for me like they're my fans too.

"Looks like you have a following now." Bree jokes with me, wrapping her arms around one of mine and pulling me down to whisper in my ear. This simple act drives the crowd nuts. The screaming intensifies, as if that is even possible.

"We better get inside before they get louder," I whisper back. Brianna agrees, turning to wave and yell her thanks to the fans for standing in line to see her. Then we pass Clinton at the door. He winks and gives me a fist bump.

"See you inside, man," I say as I pass. Then Bree and I are inside.

Her event at the Roxy is the premier of the Rescue Me video we shot a month ago. I haven't seen any of the footage, but there's one scene I'm nervous to watch with Brianna by my side. That kiss. The one I've had dreams about. The one I can almost still feel when I think about it long enough.

But here we are, and it's about to happen. I'm not sure how she's going to react, but I know how I will. I might not be able to watch the whole thing. It could become too much.

The interior is small. It's a side club in the north side of Hollywood, past the main boulevard and out of sight of the sign. You'd miss it if you drove by too fast. But it's classic Hollywood, even with a bit of retro style. The whole place is painted black, an effort to put the focus on the stage performances. In this case, the stage is a screen. No chairs in sight, the floor space is set up like a giant picnic. Different blankets are scattered everywhere and typical picnic fare is set up on tables along the back wall near the bar.