Read Front Man: One Night in Paris for Free Online Page B

Gallic grunt from the front seat."Not the hotel. The Diamond Club. Fast,please."
    "Oui Monsieur." The driver sounded almost gleeful as he pulled an illegal U turn and raced off into the night.
     

***
     
    Michael stepped back from the microphone and raised his hands above his head. The crowd hollered, and he felt his heart leap in his chest. This was the best night of his life. At last, he was the front man, the centre of everyone's attention. All those hours spent working on his vocals had paid off. The fans were loving it. Soon they would forget all about Jack. Once this scandal blew over, the press would tell the dramatic tale of how Compass rose from the ashes, with Michael at the helm, to start a new and even brighter era. Then maybe, in a year or so, it would be time to go solo... He was so busy fantasizing, that at first Michael didn't notice the stirring at the back of the club. Ripples spread through the crowd, whispers and gasps turning to screams of excitement that travelled towards the stage. Squinting through the bright lights, Michael could see the audience part as someone shouldered their way through.
    “No fucking way,” he growled under his breath. Assisted by a sea of hands, Jack Carter hauled himself up on to the stage and grabbed a microphone from the stand. A sudden hush fell over the auditorium.
    “Um, hi. Sorry I'm late.” Laughter from the crowd.
    “I wasn't going to come here tonight. I thought, after the allegations that have been printed about me, that Compass would be better off without me. Luckily, someone convinced me otherwise. I don't have time to tell you the whole story tonight....I think most of you would prefer to hear some music. But what I can tell you, is that I have never in my life sold drugs. I've never even taken drugs, if you want to know the truth. I know you have no reason to believe me...but I hope that you can trust me on this one. And whatever you might think of me, I hope you can still enjoy our music. Thank you.”
    For a moment, everything was still. Then the applause started, just a few people at first, but the others joined in until the clapping of hands thundered around the room. Micheal’s face was white with rage as a sound man rushed unto the stage to hook up Jack's microphone.
    “Nice one, douche bag,” he hissed, “Couldn't bear to be out of the spotlight for a second? Oh, and if you're going to do a heartwarming speech, maybe save it for a crowd that actually speaks English? These morons don't even know what they're clapping for.”
    “I'm sure someone will translate for them,” Jack said with a shrug. Someone handed him his guitar, and he eased the strap onto his shoulder. He had felt naked without it.
    “Shouldn't you be taking care of your little piece of ass? We can manage fine without you.” Michael spat at Jack, casting a desultory glance at where Sara waited at the side of the stage.
    “Shut the fuck up Michael,” Andy, the drummer, suddenly butted in. “Let's just get the next song going, ok?” The band all turned to their instruments. Andy didn't normally say much, but when he did, they listened. As they launched into What Comes Next, Jack felt a tiny glimmer of hope. The crowd sang alongside him, just as they always did. Perhaps things hadn't changed all that much.
    Watching Jack hold the crowd in the palm of his hand, Sara was glowing. She knew if he just faced them, the public would see through all the lies in the papers. People weren't stupid, they knew sincerity when they saw it. Jack seemed like a different person to the broken down man she had wrapped her arms around only a couple of hours earlier. Every moment he spent performing seemed to breathe new life into him. She couldn't wait to harness some of that new energy when they got back to the hotel room. Sara was thinking fondly of that giant shower, with plenty of room for two, when she realized that Jack was walking towards her side of the stage.
    “Ladies and gentleman, I'd