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The last stop of the tour was over, and Jim had been so exhausted he had slept for almost twenty-four hours straight. Now he was happy to be home and ready to return to a normal life. Or as normal as life got for the front man of a popular band, anyway.
The first order of business was coffee, since the pantry was empty. While he was out he could go shopping to restock. He pulled his hair into a ponytail and tucked it under a hat before leaving. With his hair hidden, it was easier to blend in.
It worked, too. No one gave him a second glance while he walked down the street, no one took his picture, and best of all there were no paparazzi swooping in like the vultures they were. It was enough to add a spring to his step.
The coffee shop wasn’t too crowded, but he had to wait behind a couple of people. He was debating on ordering one of the muffins when someone got in line behind him. He paid no attention until the person tried to take off his backpack and knocked into his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry!”
Jim turned around and gave the man a smile. “It’s okay, no harm done.”
The guy was blushing, but he returned the smile. Jim turned around and gave the muffins another look. With a regretful sigh, he decided to pass. He needed something healthy before a sugar binge.
The line moved, and it was Jim’s turn at the counter. He placed his order and gave the girl his name. He paid and moved to the side so other people could order while he waited. The guy who had been behind him finished up and came to stand by him. Instead of looking at his phone or watching the barista like everyone else, he clutched his backpack and stared at Jim.
Jim was used to being stared at, but it usually happened when he was on stage or in a venue. Most people didn’t recognize him when he was schlepping around in an old t-shirt and faded jeans. He gave the man a little smile and a nod, hoping that would be the end of that. That hope died as soon as he got a good look at the backpack. There were buttons all over it, and at least five of them were the dripping gold infinity sign, the symbol used for his band. He’d been spotted by a fan.
Instead of the request for selfies or an autograph Jim was accustomed to, the guy blushed and ducked his head. So it was a bashful fan. Jim couldn’t help but notice that under the blush and wild curls, he was attractive. Jim realized he was staring when the guy tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. It made him laugh under his breath. He was used to it being the other way around. He didn’t normally ogle his fans.
The barista called his name, pulling Jim from his reverie. He grabbed his coffee and went to the little bar to add sugar and cream before taking a sip. Perfect.
Outside, he stopped and took a deep breath. It was early enough that commuters were headed into the office and the roads were crowded with cars. The sun was bright and warm on his face, with just enough breeze to keep it comfortable. This was a time of day he didn’t normally see, and it was nice. Sometimes he forgot this existed, when he was trapped in a tour bus going to a different location every night.
“Excuse me?”
It was the man from the line. Now his backpack was slung over one shoulder and he was holding a cup. The blush was gone and he had a look of determination.
Ah, here it comes. Jim didn’t say anything, he just raised his eyebrows and waited for the inevitable request.
“You’re Jim, from Boundless, right?” When Jim nodded, the guy beamed a smile. “I knew it! I am such a fan of your work!”
Jim gave him a professional smile. “It’s always nice to meet a fan.” Now would be the remarks about which song was the best. It would be Into the Fire. It was always Into the Fire.
Except this time it wasn’t. “I loved the stuff you composed for that film. The music really helped add to the suspense.”
Jim blinked in surprise. “Really?”
The man nodded, tucking that lock of hair behind his ear again. “And the headphones you helped develop for the Starkey Hearing Foundation are amazing.”
“I didn’t publicize that. How did you know?”
“My friends got me a set of them for my birthday. I got curious, looked them up, and your name was on them. Could I ask something, though?”
Jim nodded. Now would be the request. It was disappointing. He was enjoying the way the conversation had been going.
“On the soundtrack, you quoted The Nightmare Before Christmas. What made you choose quotes from a children’s movie to use in a violent psychological thriller?” Now the guy gave him a disapproving look.
Maybe he had grown too accustomed to fans idolizing everything he did, but nothing about this encounter was going as predicted. It was keeping Jim on his toes, and he liked it. The smile on his face grew as he said, “I didn’t get your name.”
“I’m Ross. Nice to meet you.” Ross blushed again, but stuck out a hand.
Jim shook it. “I was about to go get some breakfast.”
“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hold you up.” Ross looked disappointed, but stepped back with a polite smile.
“No, it’s okay. Actually, would you like to join me? We can discuss my questionable choice in quotes over pancakes.”
“Seriously?” After Jim nodded, Ross said, “I’d love to! And I didn’t say they were bad quotes. The Nightmare Before Christmas is one of my favorite movies, though. It was weird hearing it during a murder scene.”
“Exactly. It set up a cognitive dissonance that caused anxiety and discomfort. It’s a murder. We should be uncomfortable.” Jim gestured and they started walking.
Ross brightened and asked, “You like psychology?”
Jim nodded. “I studied it before I dropped out. I had dreams of being Dr. Jim Hawkins for a while.” When Ross snorted and rolled his eyes, Jim looked askance at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” Ross tried to look innocent. “I’m sure you would have made a wonderful shrink.”
Now it was Jim’s turn to snort and make a face. “I would have been horrible. I don’t think I have the patience for a regular office job.”
They were interrupted when a young woman with long blonde hair came bouncing up. “Excuse me, but are you Jim Hawkins?” When Jim nodded, she lit up. “I knew it! Into the Fire is my favorite song!”
“Thanks. It’s always nice to meet a fan.” Jim was aware that Ross gave him a sharp look at that, but he ignored it.
“Can my friends and I get your picture?” she asked, not even glancing at Ross.
Jim nodded and she squealed and waved at her friends. One picture turned into about fifteen, with everyone wanting an individual selfie with him, then a group shot that turned into a bit of a challenge until Ross offered to take it. After that they wanted autographs and seemed willing to sit and chat until Jim politely excused himself. He and Ross started walking away, but a glance back showed the girls giggling and looking at their phones.
Jim sighed and grabbed Ross’ hand, pulling him around a corner and walking faster.
“What’s wrong?” Ross looked behind them, but no one was following.
“Nothing. Here in a minute they’re going to post those pictures and tag their location.”
“So?”
“So while it is always nice to meet a fan, I don’t want to deal with a lot of them before breakfast.”
Ross gave him a sheepish look. “Sorry.”
Jim squeezed his hand to reassure him before letting go. “I like talking to you. That’s why I invited you to breakfast.”
Ross’ face flamed, but he said, “Are you dedicated to the idea of pancakes? Because I know a place that makes great breakfast tacos. It’s within walking distance, too.”
Jim pretended to think it over. “I don’t know, man. Do they have decent salsa? Tacos aren’t the same without good salsa.”
“They make a chili verde that can singe out your nose hair.”
“Then lead the way.”