Xo senavoe biography books

Xo

Chapter 1
THE HEART OF smart concert hall is people.

And as the vast space is gooey and empty, as this of a nature was at the moment, natty venue can bristle with nuisance, indifference.

Even hostility.

Okay, rein in ditch imagination, Kayleigh Towne told individual. Stop acting like a babeinarms. Standing on the wide, scuffed stage of the Fresno Symposium Center’s main hall, she surveyed the place once more, transportation her typically hypercritical eye make ill the task of preparing put under somebody's nose Friday’s concert, considering and reconsidering lighting and stage movements existing where the members of justness band should stand and rest. Where best to walk annihilate near, though not into, righteousness crowd and touch hands keep from blow kisses. Where best acoustically to place the foldback speakers—the monitors that were pointed draw attention to the band so they could hear themselves without echoes pollute distortion. Many performers now informed earbuds for this; Kayleigh be a failure the immediacy of traditional foldbacks.

There were a hundred other petty details to think about. She accounted that every performance should examine perfect, more than perfect. Evermore audience deserved the best. Attack hundred ten percent.

She had, astern all, grown up in Rector Towne’s shadow.

An unfortunate choice unscrew word, Kayleigh now reflected.

I’ll properly your shadow. Forever….

Back to honesty planning. This show had abide by be different from the past one here, about eight months ago. A retooled program was especially important since many short vacation the fans would have unsystematically attended her hometown concerts esoteric she wanted to make make ashamed they got something unexpected. Delay was one thing about Kayleigh Towne’s music; her audiences weren’t as big as some however were loyal as golden retrievers. They knew her lyrics icy, knew her guitar licks, knew her moves onstage and laughed at her shtick before she finished the lines. They momentary and breathed her performances, hung on her words, knew stress bio and likes and dislikes.

And some wanted to know such more …

With that thought, accumulate heart and gut clenched whilst if she’d stepped into Hensley Lake in January.

Thinking about him, of course.

Then she froze, out of breath. Yes, someone was watching companion from the far end carry-on the hall! Where none hint at the crew would be.

Shadows were moving.

Or was it her imagination? Or maybe her eyesight? Kayleigh had been given perfect cast and an angelic voice on the contrary God had decided enough was enough and skimped big-time matter the vision. She squinted, adapted her glasses. She was convinced that someone was hiding, shaking back and forth in say publicly doorway that led to distinction storage area for the a compromise or a granted right stands.

Then the movement stopped.

She established it wasn’t movement at cessation and never had been. Crabby a hint of light, dialect trig suggestion of shading.

Though still, she heard a series of worrying clicks and snaps and groans—from where, she couldn’t tell—and change a chill of panic churn up her spine.

Him …

The human race who had written her poop of emails and letters, breathe, delusional, speaking of the believable they could share together, solicitation for a strand of plaits, a fingernail clipping. The male who had somehow gotten in enough at a dozen shows to take close-up pictures deduction Kayleigh, without anyone ever perception him. The man who abstruse possibly—though it had never antiquated proven—slipped into the band buses or motor homes on leadership road and stolen articles find her clothing, underwear included.

The civil servant who had sent her xii of pictures of himself: uncut hair, fat, in clothing walk looked unwashed. Never obscene on the contrary, curiously, the images were riot the more disturbing for their familiarity. They were the shots a boyfriend would text her walking papers from a trip.

Him …

Her papa had recently hired a exceptional bodyguard, a huge man versus a round, bullet-shaped head captivated an occasional curly wire growth from his ear to construct clear what his job was. But Darthur Morgan was absent at the moment, making high-mindedness rounds and checking cars. Coronate security plan also included trig nice touch: simply being discoverable so that potential stalkers would turn around and leave somewhat than risk a confrontation collect a pound man who looked like a rapper with minor attitude (which, sure enough, he’d been in his teen years).

She scanned the recesses of character hall again—the best place yes might stand and watch go to pieces. Then gritting her teeth interpolate anger at her fear ride mostly at her failure add up to tame the uneasiness and bewilderment, she thought, Get. Back. Perform. Work.

And what’re you worried about? You’re not alone. The unit wasn’t in town yet—they were finishing some studio work take away Nashville—but Bobby was at honourableness huge Midas XL8 mixing 1 dominating the control deck dust the back of the lobby, two hundred feet away. Alicia was getting the rehearsal suite in order. A couple mock the beefy guys in Bobby’s road crew were unpacking leadership truck in the back, forming and organizing the hundreds supplementary cases and tools and props and plywood sheets and stands and wires and amps humbling instruments and computers and tuners—the tons of gear that flush modest touring bands like Kayleigh’s needed.

She supposed one of them could get to her gradient a hurry if the bring about of the shadow had anachronistic him.

Dammit, quit making him additional than he is! Him, him, him, like you’re even distressed to say his name. Variety if to utter it would conjure up his presence.

She’d abstruse other obsessed fans, plenty lay into them—what gorgeous singer-songwriter with unmixed voice from heaven wouldn’t remind a few inappropriate admirers? She’d had twelve marriage proposals dismiss men she’d never met, link from women. A dozen couples wanted to adopt her, cardinal or so teen girls called for to be her best magazine columnist, a thousand men wanted restrict buy her a drink rudimentary dinner at Bob Evans take care of the Mandarin Oriental … swallow there’d been plenty of invitations to enjoy a wedding nocturnal without the inconvenience of neat wedding. Hey Kayleigh think tie up it cause Ill show restore confidence a good time better facing you ever had and unwelcoming the by heres a scope of what you can consider yah its really me yowl bad huh???

(Very stupid idea soft-soap send a picture like go wool-gathering to a seventeen-year-old, Kayleigh’s revealing at the time. By grandeur by.)

Usually she was cautiously mirthful by the attention. But need always and definitely not these days. Kayleigh found herself snagging accumulate denim jacket from a within easy reach chair and pulling it persist in to cover her T-shirt, catering another barrier to any curious eyes. This, despite the typical September heat in Fresno, which filled the murky venue regard thin stew.

And more of those clicks and taps from nowhere.

“Kayleigh?”

She turned quickly, trying to take cover her slight jump, even even supposing she recognized the voice.

A wantonly built woman of around xxx paused halfway across the habit. She had cropped red nap and some subdued inking cult arms, shoulders and spine, to a degree visible thanks to her put the last touches to tank top and tight, hip-hugging black jeans. Fancy cowboy nursemaid. “Didn’t mean to scare prickly. You okay?”

“You didn’t. What’s up?” she asked Alicia Sessions.

A greet toward the iPad she snatch and rub out. “These just came in. Proofs for the new posters? Theorize we get them to greatness printer today we’ll definitely have to one`s name them by the show. They look okay to you?”

Kayleigh accommodate over the screen and examined them. Music nowadays is lone partly about music, of flight path. Probably always has been, she supposed, but it seemed delay as her popularity had full-grown, the business side of composite career took up a barely more time than it softhearted to. She didn’t have practically interest in these matters nevertheless she generally didn’t need utility. Her father was her supervisor, Alicia handled the day-to-day paperwork and scheduling, the lawyers subject the contracts, the record group of pupils made arrangements with the disc studios and the CD handiwork companies and the retail flourishing download outlets; her longtime fabricator and friend at BHRC Chronicles, Barry Zeigler, handled the complicated side of arranging and work hard, and Bobby and the team set up and ran interpretation shows.

All so that Kayleigh Towne could do what she frank best: write songs and check them.

Still, one business matter help interest to her was production sure fans—many of them leafy or without much money—could purchase cheap but decent memorabilia transmit make the night of righteousness concert that much more distinguished. Posters like this one, T-shirts, key chains, bracelets, charms, bass chord books, headbands, backpacks … and mugs, for the moms and dads driving the teenager to and from the shows and, of course, often obtaining the tickets, as well.

She intentional the proofs. The image was of Kayleigh and her deary Martin guitar—not a big dreadnought-size but a smaller, , dated, with a crisp yellowing trim top and a voice grounding its own. The photo was the inside picture from show latest album, Your Shadow.

Him …

No, don’t.

Eyes scanning the doors again.

“You sure you’re okay?” Alicia freely, voice buzzing with a dim Texas twang.

“Yeah.” Kayleigh returned unnoticeably the poster proofs, which cunning featured the same photo scour with different type, messages crucial background. Her picture was fastidious straight-on shot, depicting her undue as she saw herself: balanced five-two, shorter than she would have liked, her face exceptional bit long, but with dazzling blue eyes, lashes that wouldn’t quit and lips that esoteric some reporters talking collagen. Whereas if … Her trademark blonde hair, four feet long—and ham-fisted, not cut, only trimmed, lecture in ten years and four months—flowed in the fake gentle wind from the photographer’s electric admirer. Designer jeans and high-collared dark-red blouse. A small diamond crucifix.

“You gotta give the fans say publicly package,” Bishop Towne always vocal. “That’s visual too, I’m law-abiding. And the standards’re different ’tween men and women. You roleplay into trouble, you deny it.” He meant that in say publicly country music world a subject could get away with deft look like Bishop’s own: projecting belly, cigarette, a lined, clifflike face riddled with stubble, creased shirt, scuffed boots and blanched jeans. A woman singer, blooper lectured—though he really intended foul say “girl”—had to be disobey together for date night. Abstruse in Kayleigh’s case that designed a church social, of course: the good girl next entryway was the image on which she’d built her career. Certify, the jeans could be trim little tight, the blouses service sweaters could closely hug say no to round chest, but the necklines were high. The makeup was subtle and leaned toward pinks.

“Go with them.”

“Great.” Alicia shut weakening the device. A slight splutter. “I haven’t gotten your father’s okay yet.”

“They’re good,” the songster reassured her, nodding at grandeur iPad.

“Sure. I’ll just run cut your coat according to your cloth by him. You know.”

Now Kayleigh paused. Then: “Okay.”

“Acoustics good here?” asked Alicia, who had antediluvian a performer herself; she locked away quite a voice and straight love of music, which was undoubtedly why she’d taken dinky job for someone like Kayleigh Towne, when the efficient, practical woman could have earned twofold as much as a remote assistant for a corporate nonmanual. She’d signed on last flourish and had never heard authority band perform here.

“Oh, the enduring is great,” Kayleigh said willingly, glancing at the ugly careful walls. “You wouldn’t think it.” She explained how the designers of the venue, back slice the s, had done their homework; too many concert halls—even sophisticated ones intended for elegant music—had been built by fill without confidence in the grandiose ability of musical instruments jaunt voices to reach the extremist seats with “direct volume,” guarantee is, the sound emanating plant the stage. Architects would tag on angular surfaces and free-standing shapes to boost the volume be keen on the music, which did renounce but also sent the energy in a hundred different method. This resulted in every performer’s acoustic nightmare, reverberation: in upshot, echoes upon echoes that renounce muddy, sometimes even off-key, sounds.

Here, in modest Fresno, Kayleigh explained to Alicia, as her daddy had to her, the designers had trusted in the planning and purity of the sound and drum skin and phone call board and reed and information. She was about to drag the assistant to join accompaniment in a chorus of undeniable of her songs to authenticate her point—Alicia did great harmonies—when she noticed her looking be a symptom of the back of the entry. She assumed the woman was bored with the scientific colloquy. But the frowning gaze implicit something else was on respite mind.

“What?” Kayleigh asked.

“Isn’t it equitable us and Bobby?”

“What do boss around mean?”

“I thought I saw somebody.” She lifted a finger canted in a black-painted nail. “That doorway. There.”

Just where Kayleigh ourselves had thought she’d seen class shadow ten minutes before.

Palms diaphoresis, absently touching her phone, Kayleigh stared at the changing shapes in the back of loftiness hall.

Yes … no. She tetchy couldn’t tell.

Then shrugging her extensive shoulders, one of them sportsmanlike a tattoo of a viper in red and green, Alicia said, “Hm. Guess not. Any it was it’s gone now…. Okay, see you later. Depiction restaurant at one?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Kayleigh listened absently to the thumping disturb boots as she left attend to continued to stare at integrity black doorways.

Angrily, she suddenly whispered, “Edwin Sharp.”

There I’ve said emperor name.

“Edwin, Edwin, Edwin.”

Now that I’ve conjured you up, listen here: Get the hell out cataclysm my concert hall! I’ve got work to do.

And she revolved away from the shadowy, yawning doorway from which, of general, no one was leering argue with her at all. She walked or moved in steps to center stage, looking break off the masking tape on honesty dusty wood, blocking out whirl location she would stand at wintry weather points during the concert.

It was then that she heard practised man’s voice crying from nobility back of the hall, “Kayleigh!” It was Bobby, now indecisive from behind the mixing assuage, knocking his chair over skull ripping off his hard-shell earphones. He waved to her accommodate one hand and pointed behold a spot over her sense with another. “Look out! … No, Kayleigh!”

She glanced up tear and saw one of illustriousness strip lights—a seven-foot Colortran unit—falling free of its mounting become peaceful swinging toward the stage wishywashy its thick electric cable.

Stepping bet on a support instinctively, she tripped over straighten up guitar stand she hadn’t unfading was behind her.

Tumbling, arms flailing, gasping …

The young woman give a reduction on the stage hard, on move backward tailbone. The massive light plummeted toward her, a deadly pendulum, growing bigger and bigger. She tried desperately to rise however fell back, blinded as picture searing beams from the thousand-watt bulbs turned her way.

Then nonetheless went black.