The All or Nothing Game

"Forgive me for tonight" he wrote. "I didn't mean to scare you. I don't always know why I have to let all my aggressions out. I'll be a docile lamb tomorrow, I promise. Sleep well! Julian".

So... He had taken care to find out about her private phone number. She mused a long time over if she should answer or not, but in the end she couldn't refrain from doing so. She searched the net for a temptingly funny picture of a Black Sheep, and that she sent along to him. Without any further remarks. Then bed. Then sleep.

**********

Next night — the second show in St. Louis — when she was to meet him again, the dressing room area was as quiet as an Egyptian tomb. No person was to be seen in the corridor, no noises disturbed the peace. Julian was sitting in his chair in front of the mirror quietly smoking a cigarette and reading St. Louis's daily papers, most likely to catch up with the latest reviews, and they were stupendous. Eva could find no other word. It was as if a small earthquake had made the entertainment business tremble at its fundament when perceiving the news of a half-naked Julian Woolfe on stage before some 50,000 spectators in St. Louis last night. The news had traveled with the speed of lightning of course. Also the local TV channels had hooked on with pictures and news reels. Eva realized that all shows from now on would be sold out, even if no one knew whether he was going to give a repeat performance or not. Most likely he would, but when and where was in the stars. If by any chance he had understood the implications of last night — and Eva wouldn't put it past him at all — this was the ultimate promotion for the present tour. He would need no other advertising in any media. She approached him and put her things down on the floor behind his chair. She could feel, without analyzing the situation, that there was no tension in the air today. Then she turned to the table beneath the mirror to put up the things she would need for this night, and there, amongst brushes, bottles, ashtrays and papers stood a fluffy, woolly black sheep and looked at her with a singularly, innocently dumb expression. She stopped in her tracks and burst out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, and she could hear him chuckle deep down in his throat behind her. She picked up the toy and buried her nose in the fine fur. Then she turned around impulsively, bent down over him and kissed him briefly and lightly on the cheek. She met his eyes, still glittering with laughter, but in them she could also still see the shadow of the wolf, kept at bay tonight. But as he had promised, he was docile as a lamb the whole evening and no incidents marred the night's performance.

**********

The rest of the tour towards the West Coast was rather uneventful. Everyone was out to perfect his or her own role and part in the common performance, and there was a lot of work involved. Happily enough traveling between places also meant a day or two off, and Eva felt that it was needed. When reaching San Francisco which was to be the first stop for the major shows in the area, Julian took a break for a week and went back to New York to take care of some personal business and to rest for a bit. Maryka went with him. Two shows were planned for San Francisco and later on three were to take place in Los Angeles. These shows were to be the final performances on American ground and a signal that the whole troupe was to leave for the East. With Julian gone, the whole scene changed in a way. The charge, the force, the impetus that kept driving them all along, was gone and a kind of lull settled over the whole group. Some relaxed totally and others found other things to do. They were in the home town of Daren Ndolo, and he invited his band compadres to his home for a barbeque, a long jam session and a general West Coast get-together. Eva was among the invited too, and she felt greatly exhilarated by the prospect.

Daren's house overlooked the bay and the bridge, and he had a breathtaking view from up there. Close to his house, he had his studio located and seeing all this gave a kind of perspective on him to Eva. None of the "boys in the band" were in the show for just fun and laughs. They had been chosen because they were top musicians in their particular field and on their special instrument. This tour was perhaps only a stepping stone in their further careers. While the professionals inspected the studio and marveled over the latest technique in there, Eva went around the beautiful garden, said hello to Daren's lovely wife and helped carry food and other necessary things out to the tables, close to the grill. Daren had invited several of his local friends too, and Eva eventually found herself in lively discussions with other guests. Now and then came furtive questions which she tried to avoid in the most delicate manner. Even before this night and this special occasion, it had occurred to her that living in the shadow of Julian Woolfe also meant that some of his fame had rubbed off on all of them. All of a sudden she was a "someone." Someone who had exclusive access to a super star, and the seemingly innocent questions could be mined territory. She could almost see the fat headlines in front of her inner eye. "Makeup artist tells it all! Read about the most intimate details in Julian Woolfe's life and what is going on in his dressing room at nights before the gig!" She shuddered lightly and kept her mouth shut or evaded the questions with a skill which an experienced ambassador would envy her. Apart from this, Eva enjoyed herself and felt free for the first time in months.

Some time after midnight, when the music had started and the ambiance was great and Eva had perhaps had just a tiny bit too much to drink, she dared up to Daren who stood behind the counter in his garden bar. He was in deep and animated conversation with a person who Eva later was to know as a music journalist for one of San Francisco's larger newspapers. She put a hand on Daren's arm when there seemed to be a lull in their conversation.

"Daren," she said, "I've always sooo much wanted to paint your face. I know exactly what I would like to do with it. What do you say? Would you agree to be my model for half an hour? And look like an African work of art afterwards? I know, I know! You don't have to tell me; you ARE an African work of art already, but I can enhance you a bit." Daren burst out into laughter and slapped the counter with his two hands.

"Lady," he beamed, "I'm all yours! Wow! I feel so honored!"

And so it happened that the party came to a standstill for a moment and in the lights from the light-ramp, which was brought out into the garden, Eva started to work on Daren. He sat obediently still on a chair in front of her while she applied colors and patterns to his face from the small set of tubes she always carried along as a kind of emergency kit for quick repairs. A dramatic face took form in front of everyone's eyes. Daren stopped being Daren and became a live African "Picasso" idea of a Nigerian king. It was rather immense. Eva was aware of people taking pictures because the flashlights beamed in the air and sometimes blinded her. A spontaneous applause broke out when she had finished, and they were asked to pose for a picture in one of the newspapers too. Daren didn't want to wipe the mask off but instead brought the band together for music, and they played until the early morning hours.

The next day Eva found herself in the newspapers for the first time in her life — among the headlines even — in the section for news on entertainment. It was mentioned that both she and Daren were on tour together with Julian Woolfe and in what capacity. It was a very strange sensation to look at one's own picture in the papers and read what was supposed to have been said during an interview. She got an idea of how the reporters worked, and she was again immensely thankful for that she had refused to even let Julian's name slip over her tongue last night. They had not been able to quote her on that subject.

**********

Soon Julian was back with his troupe in San Francisco and the ignition was on, so to speak. He made a point of assembling them all at the hotel where the better part of them was booked for the stay. Together with Maryka he made a recap of the last months and started to talk of what waited for them after Los Angeles. He made a brief description of the Asian tour and the ports of call, and Maryka outlined some practical details and gave advice of a basic kind on how to meet the East for those who had not been there before. She asked all of them to look over their own necessary items, like valid pass ports, vaccination cards, medicines and other stuff of vital importance. They finished with asking anyone in the group who had second thoughts about leaving the States for the other side of the Ocean, to approach them now — when there was still a week to takeoff — and discuss any problem they might have about this development of the tour. Next week, it would surely be too late.

Eva took part of the information but didn't feel that it really addressed her. She had her papers in order; and although she hadn't visited the East in person herself, she felt that she was prepared in a good way. Instead she concentrated on the appointment for the evening. There wasn't a concert on the program, but a TV-show where two songs would be performed on each side of an interview. It was going to be an official but also an intimate meeting as the TV-company had suggested in their mails. It was to be hosted by one of their most renowned talk show hosts, Adrian Linklater. As always, Maryka had sent a memorandum around to the TV-station, listing the kind of questions Julian did not want to be featured in the show and which he wouldn't answer to. Eva saw to that she was on the premises in good time in advance, a bit curious too over how this TV-station was running and who worked there. She was met like a small celebrity herself and showed to the room, set aside for Julian, where she would make him ready for the evening. She went around the studio for a bit to make herself acquainted with it, to find out of how the lightning worked there and from what angle he was to be shot and all these little details. On her way back to the dressing room, she heard that Julian had arrived with the band and soon she met up with him. She could immediately tell that he was in an irritated, apprehensive and generally bad mood. A bad start for the evening, if there were ever one. He looked happy enough though to see her and greeted her, trying hard not to take his bad mood out on her.

"I've seen you in the papers, doll!" he called out to her and grinned at her obvious embarrassment. "I like what you did to Daren's face, qualified work! I might even consider you to do me up one night in this manner, if I choose an approach to the night as a whole where it would be fitting."

Coming from Julian this was indeed high praise and, as always, he also saw the purely economic potential in this particular work of art. He never missed out on that point. Eva had learned that over the months.

"So! If I may GRACIOUSLY ask the REVERED artist to consider lavishing a bit of attention on my humble face, I would grovel in the dust for you!" he continued to tease her.

"Oh! Stop it!" she fumed to his obvious delight.

Yet his pleasantries could not conceal his basic nervousness, and Eva had to tread warily around him so as not to trigger that eruption which wasn't far beyond the surface. So, what had happened to bring him into such a bad mood? Something in New York maybe? Eva hadn't heard any rumors though and those usually traveled fast.

When Julian went on-stage together with the band, Eva watched from the wings where she could see them live. She could also watch them on the several monitors, available in plenty all around the back office to the studio. She had taken care tonight to do a careful and rather soft makeup, which would be suited to the TV media; hardly any accentuation at all and only just a hint of eye-shadow to enhance his eyes. Eva was pleased with the result. She didn't really pay attention closely to what happened up on the studio floor. She was just enjoying the music and thinking of what to do afterwards, when she was suddenly alerted to the interview which was to be the main attraction between the songs. By now she knew Julian so well that she immediately detected the note of rising irritation in his voice, although he took care to hide it as best as he could. She also heard a kind of insisting tone in the voice of the talk show host, Adrian Linklater. As if he kept repeating a question that Julian, now laughing, refused to answer. Eva went up closer to one of the monitors to see if she could catch what the issue was about. She could now see that Linklater had a TV screen on stage and there he was showing a picture, most likely taken by a paparazzo, of Julian and a woman that Eva knew had figured closely in his life before this tour. They were on their way into a restaurant in what must be New York. Was it something that had happened during the week he had been away? She heard Linklater say: "But you can't very well deny, my dear Julian, that this beautiful lady STILL plays a part in your life. This was taken last week..." Eva paled when she heard it. What a total outrage! She knew that all which concerned Julian's very private life was a No, No in any interview. How on earth could that have slipped the studio people on this station? She heard Julian not really answering but saying something like ALL beautiful women STILL played a great role in his life — he loved them all — and now he and the band were here to give a great performance, so let's go along and play some music... And before anyone could say another word, he got his band going and started off on "You Have Taught Me A Lesson" — an intricate and treacherously innocent song, glittering on the surface of an abyss. When that was done, he smiled and said profuse good-byes and backed off the stage and went directly to the dressing room.

There he stood with his back towards the room when Eva entered. She closed the door behind her and waited indecisively for a moment, not knowing if she were to leave or stay. He was smoking a cigarette, sucking furiously at it, and he didn't move at first.

Then he slammed his fists into the window pane with great violence. He could have broken the glass, had he not been careful. Eva gave a start and looked in alarm at his tense back.

"The bloody, dirty bastards! I wonder what they had to pay for that picture. It must have cost them a fortune. I hope is did cost them a filthy fortune!"

"I don't mind really on my own behalf..."he continued with passion but checked himself and didn't finish the sentence.

"It's no big deal," he said at last, getting his breathing under control. "It's just the principle you know. I have to have a word with Maryka about it. She is supposed to see to that these things don't happen. So, I want to know why it slipped today. If they ignored a contract between us where all this is supposed to be in print, well, then we can of course sue them for a couple of thousands, but the question is whether it's worth it or not. The process which will follow might cost too much in publicity anyway. I don't know."

He was weary now rather than angry, and it was as if he were talking both to himself and her. She understood in a flash all the implications of being an icon and a super star. From the moment the Midas Cup was handed to him he had had to fight for every inch of privacy which he wanted to maintain in his life.

"Julian," she ventured cautiously, "I understand that this is a price to pay. And I guess it's a decision you once had to make. Don't fight these minions; they don't really deserve your attention. Just ignore them, step over them and past them. But I guess I needn't tell you that. I guess that you found that out, so long ago."

She fell silent; and when he still didn't move, she started to pick up her things to prepare to leave. Then he turned around and faced her.

"You know," he said — and his face had taken on an almost contemplative expression — "this is the first time that you address Julian the person and not Julian the star or the employer."

She hesitated with her hand on the doorknob.

"There is a first for everything," she answered in a low voice.

And they looked at each other in silence for several seconds which were much too long, before she quietly slipped out of the room.

**********

After the incident in San Francisco, Julian went wild. It was as if he had drawn a plug somewhere. Had he been a reclusive before, all that changed in Los Angeles. He went out on town, he went to official parties, he figured in the press every day with different beautiful girls hanging on his arms or in his tow. In Los Angeles he repeated the strip performance in a live concert to a screaming audience which broke barriers, caused a riot and triggered a massive police force to take action. When that concert was finished and he was about to leave the arena, he went over to the barrier and the screaming fans instead of retreating into the waiting limousine and started to sign autographs. Eva, who stood together with Klaus and Steven outside the crew entrance, looked at the scene with fascination. She also threw a glance over to the other side where she could see Maryka waiting beside the car, the smile on the lips of the other woman getting increasingly constrained and artificial. Klaus shook his head, and Steven grinned and bent down to Eva.

"This is nothing!" he breathed in her ear. "Wait until we get to all these weird little places over there in the East - then the REAL fun will begin!"

Klaus looked over his shoulder to establish contact with Rupert and Daren who were on their way. Daren was accompanied by his wife this time. They also caught Bo before he drifted off into the LA night and proceeded to get hold of a couple of taxis. The tumult over at the barrier had caused the police to concentrate their efforts around Julian to save him from being totally molested, and in the clearing which the police had left open, a group of girls had managed to crawl over and under the fences. They were now heading for the band and the taxis, screaming happily and demanding autographs from the musicians too. In the general din, someone even thrust a piece of paper up in Eva's face which she signed dutifully, feeling unreal now. She felt Steven grabbing hold of her arm, and he practically pushed her into the waiting car which had already started to move down the slope towards the center of the city.

Daren, who knew his way around Los Angeles as intimately as San Francisco, directed them towards a small place in the harbor area. It was blissfully peaceful in there when they entered, and Eva took a deep breath. Daren approached the owner who came to meet them, and they slapped each other's shoulders and exchanged greetings. Daren then asked if the inner room was free this night and got a positive answer. He then ushered his party through a small opening which was separated from the general area only by a pearl drapery. While at the same time letting the guests behind it take part of what happened out in the bar, it yet provided privacy for those in the inner room.

While beer, tequila and nachos where ordered and served, Klaus had started to finger his guitar in a melancholy Latin tune.

"Come on Schiller, dude," Steven called softly, "let it rest for a while, at least have a shot of tequila before having a go at that one again."

"Mmmmm... I got so inspired," Klaus mused but put his instrument down for a while.

The lights were low in there, and Eva felt that she started to relax. The last days had been so tense and hectic. Not that Julian had troubled her in person, but since his mood was so unpredictable for the moment, she was on her toes the moment she was close to him. Steven thrust a glass of tequila in her hand, and she decided to try it. Why not? This would be as good a night as any. The fiery liquid burned her lips and tongue, and she couldn't help coughing. They laughed at her like schoolboys having gotten away with a good trick.