Wicked White
Page 56
Two days later, after consulting with an attorney on what I should and shouldn’t say, I sit down in an oversize white chair facing the reporter who gets under my skin like no other.
I unbutton my gray jacket and try to relax in the seat and pretend that the hot lights shining down on me like the blistering sun aren’t causing me to sweat.
“Just try and be natural. Viewers tend to believe you more if you seem comfortable with what you’re saying,” Linda Bronson says as she double-checks her bright red lipstick, which stands out against her platinum-blond hair and black dress suit. “You’ll want the viewers on your side if you’re hoping to win back your fans’ trust and get your career restarted.”
I nod stiffly and roll my shoulders, attempting to force the tension out, because I do owe the fans an apology for standing them up. It was wrong of me to do that. I know I let a lot of them down.
“Linda, we’re on in five,” a woman standing just left of the camera tells her and then takes a step back, counting down from five.
Linda tosses her hair, plasters the biggest grin on her face, and sets her eyes directly on the camera lens focused on her. “Good evening, America. I’m Linda Bronson with Celebrity Pop Buzz Nightly, coming to you live from the California home of Ace White. You might remember Ace as being the front man of the famous band Wicked White, but what he’s gained worldwide notoriety from is his recent disappearance. Many thought he had met with an untimely demise, while others like his tour manager, Jane Ann Rogers, held out hope that he was alive.
“I, myself, have been covering the story of Ace White’s disappearance from the very beginning, following up on every lead, and I was getting nowhere. It wasn’t until a domestic disturbance in an Ohio mobile home community was reported to authorities that Ace’s whereabouts were discovered. He had been hiding out, living under his true name of Ace Johnson, working as a handyman. Today Ace White sits down to tell us his side of the story and just why he walked away from a successful career.”
Linda turns to me with an over-the-top expression of pity in her eyes. “Thank you so much for being here with me, Ace.”
I rub my sweating palms on my thighs and immediately see Jane Ann shaking her head. I freeze instantly and then simply rest my hands against my legs. “Thank you for having me, Linda.”
“So, Ace, I’m going to get right down to it. Can you please tell us what happened on the day you walked out on a sold-out crowd?”
I lick my lips, not wanting to reveal the problems of my life to the world, but I know at this point I have no choice. “I received a phone call from a police officer in Columbus, where the woman who raised me lived. Sarah Johnson was my foster mother, and I loved her like she was my real mother; the state even allowed me to take on her last name as my own when I was sixteen. She wanted to adopt me, but we found out that if she did that, I would lose a lot of the state funding for my impending college education, so the state agreed to grant me the name change. In my eyes, that was just the same as her adopting me. It signified that we were really a family and that she thought of me as her son.
“Anyway, the officer told me that they had found Sarah unresponsive and had transported her to the Grant Medical Center in critical condition.”
Linda clutches at her chest. “You poor dear! What happened after you got that call?”
“Naturally, I wanted to hop in my car and speed off to be with her. She was my only family, and I wanted to be there for her like she was for me while I was growing up. It was important to me to be there, so against the wishes of my bandmates, tour manager, and label, I took off.”
“That’s completely understandable. I think a lot of people would do the same thing if they were in your position.” She tilts her head. “What was with the dramatics—flipping the band the middle finger before going on this hiatus? What caused that?”
I sigh, remembering what the lawyer told me to say—be truthful, but be sure to paint myself, the band, and the label in a positive light. “The band dynamics have been rocky for the past year. We’ve had some trouble coming together as a cohesive unit, and so when they immediately went off the deep end because shows needed to be canceled so I could be with my mom, something in me snapped.” My attention jerks to Jane Ann, who nods and twirls her finger, indicating for me to continue discussing my “self-destruction.”
“When you say you snapped . . . what happened?”
I clear my throat and continue. “I lost all focus, I guess. Everything around me seemed to be falling apart, and I felt like I was losing my identity with Wicked White, and the sudden news of my mother being gravely ill and then passing . . . it’s like it all culminated at one time and I just sort of lost my head. Suddenly I just wanted away from everything. I wanted to be somewhere without all the pressures that come with being a rock star.”
Linda crosses her legs. “So that’s when you decided to cut your hair and shave your beard in order to go into hiding?”
I nod. “Yes. I wanted to be different so I couldn’t be found. I started with a pair of scissors and created a new look that would be harder to recognize. I knew that Jane Ann and the media would continue to follow me after I flipped off the band and walked off stage, so I needed to throw them off my scent so I would have a chance of normalcy.”
“Well, you look fantastic. The new look is amazing. Do you feel like a changed man now?”
“Most definitely.”
I unbutton my gray jacket and try to relax in the seat and pretend that the hot lights shining down on me like the blistering sun aren’t causing me to sweat.
“Just try and be natural. Viewers tend to believe you more if you seem comfortable with what you’re saying,” Linda Bronson says as she double-checks her bright red lipstick, which stands out against her platinum-blond hair and black dress suit. “You’ll want the viewers on your side if you’re hoping to win back your fans’ trust and get your career restarted.”
I nod stiffly and roll my shoulders, attempting to force the tension out, because I do owe the fans an apology for standing them up. It was wrong of me to do that. I know I let a lot of them down.
“Linda, we’re on in five,” a woman standing just left of the camera tells her and then takes a step back, counting down from five.
Linda tosses her hair, plasters the biggest grin on her face, and sets her eyes directly on the camera lens focused on her. “Good evening, America. I’m Linda Bronson with Celebrity Pop Buzz Nightly, coming to you live from the California home of Ace White. You might remember Ace as being the front man of the famous band Wicked White, but what he’s gained worldwide notoriety from is his recent disappearance. Many thought he had met with an untimely demise, while others like his tour manager, Jane Ann Rogers, held out hope that he was alive.
“I, myself, have been covering the story of Ace White’s disappearance from the very beginning, following up on every lead, and I was getting nowhere. It wasn’t until a domestic disturbance in an Ohio mobile home community was reported to authorities that Ace’s whereabouts were discovered. He had been hiding out, living under his true name of Ace Johnson, working as a handyman. Today Ace White sits down to tell us his side of the story and just why he walked away from a successful career.”
Linda turns to me with an over-the-top expression of pity in her eyes. “Thank you so much for being here with me, Ace.”
I rub my sweating palms on my thighs and immediately see Jane Ann shaking her head. I freeze instantly and then simply rest my hands against my legs. “Thank you for having me, Linda.”
“So, Ace, I’m going to get right down to it. Can you please tell us what happened on the day you walked out on a sold-out crowd?”
I lick my lips, not wanting to reveal the problems of my life to the world, but I know at this point I have no choice. “I received a phone call from a police officer in Columbus, where the woman who raised me lived. Sarah Johnson was my foster mother, and I loved her like she was my real mother; the state even allowed me to take on her last name as my own when I was sixteen. She wanted to adopt me, but we found out that if she did that, I would lose a lot of the state funding for my impending college education, so the state agreed to grant me the name change. In my eyes, that was just the same as her adopting me. It signified that we were really a family and that she thought of me as her son.
“Anyway, the officer told me that they had found Sarah unresponsive and had transported her to the Grant Medical Center in critical condition.”
Linda clutches at her chest. “You poor dear! What happened after you got that call?”
“Naturally, I wanted to hop in my car and speed off to be with her. She was my only family, and I wanted to be there for her like she was for me while I was growing up. It was important to me to be there, so against the wishes of my bandmates, tour manager, and label, I took off.”
“That’s completely understandable. I think a lot of people would do the same thing if they were in your position.” She tilts her head. “What was with the dramatics—flipping the band the middle finger before going on this hiatus? What caused that?”
I sigh, remembering what the lawyer told me to say—be truthful, but be sure to paint myself, the band, and the label in a positive light. “The band dynamics have been rocky for the past year. We’ve had some trouble coming together as a cohesive unit, and so when they immediately went off the deep end because shows needed to be canceled so I could be with my mom, something in me snapped.” My attention jerks to Jane Ann, who nods and twirls her finger, indicating for me to continue discussing my “self-destruction.”
“When you say you snapped . . . what happened?”
I clear my throat and continue. “I lost all focus, I guess. Everything around me seemed to be falling apart, and I felt like I was losing my identity with Wicked White, and the sudden news of my mother being gravely ill and then passing . . . it’s like it all culminated at one time and I just sort of lost my head. Suddenly I just wanted away from everything. I wanted to be somewhere without all the pressures that come with being a rock star.”
Linda crosses her legs. “So that’s when you decided to cut your hair and shave your beard in order to go into hiding?”
I nod. “Yes. I wanted to be different so I couldn’t be found. I started with a pair of scissors and created a new look that would be harder to recognize. I knew that Jane Ann and the media would continue to follow me after I flipped off the band and walked off stage, so I needed to throw them off my scent so I would have a chance of normalcy.”
“Well, you look fantastic. The new look is amazing. Do you feel like a changed man now?”
“Most definitely.”
