“Here you are,” Benji repeated, watching her intently and still wondering about her timidness. “Can you do the job, Fae?” he asked her bluntly. “Because if you can't handle it, I need to know right now.”
Something about the tone of his voice struck her in just the wrong way, and Fae suddenly felt her ire rise. Her head snapped up and she fixed him with a determined glare. “Yes, I can handle it,” she said with a slight attitude. “No offense to Joe, but I can run rings around him on the backline. Him and every other guy here,” she said, motioning to her fellow backline technicians. “When push comes to shove, I can tech for every musician in this band without breaking a sweat!”
Her pale blue eyes burned with indignation, and Benji smiled slowly at her. Miss Miller had a little backbone after all. “Well, that's good to know,” he said softly. “And I guess … I should be flattered that you're star-struck?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I'm such a fan,” she sighed, as her indignation evaporated as quickly as it had risen. “I mean, I love Jagged Ivory, but … I am a huge Benji Staffon fan. You are the reason I started playing the bass four years ago. You are amazing, and I am so honored to be teching for you.”
Now it was Benji's turn to blush, and he hoped it wasn't too noticeable beneath the hair on his face. He self-consciously scratched his well-trimmed beard as he smiled bashfully at her. “Thank you,” he said modestly.
“No. Thank you,” she answered quietly. “For the inspiration. And for giving me a chance.”
Benji smiled at her again. And suddenly he found himself very curious about her. He wanted to know what her story was. He was about to open his mouth to ask, when he heard his name being called.
“Yo, Benji! You coming?” It was Noah. And Benji turned to see all of the guys near the door, watching him expectantly.
“Uh … no,” he answered. “Fae and I need to go over some things. I'll call you later, man.”
“Alright, man. Take it easy.”
The guys headed out then, and as Fae watched them go, she felt her heart accelerate like a rollercoaster cresting its first hill. He wanted to talk to her! Was he going to fire her? Get a grip, Fae. Don't make a fool of yourself again! She glanced anxiously around the rehearsal space and noticed a few of the other backline guys still packing up, so they weren't totally alone. Great. They would all get to see Benji Staffon fire her ass. She rolled her eyes at that thought. And when she turned back toward Benji, he was staring directly at her.
“You wanted to talk to me about something?” she asked, looking at him with apprehension as her heart continued to pound in her chest.
“No. I wanted to ask you something, actually,” he answered. “How did you get your start, Fae? How did you end up doing this line of work?”
“Oh.” She smiled slightly, feeling her heart begin to calm a little. “Well … I discovered Led Zeppelin when I was in middle school, and I wanted to play the drums and be as cool as John Bonham. So, I started taking lessons at this little music store near my school. And I just completely fell in love with that place. They sold all types of instruments and equipment, and it was just … heaven. The owners of the store had very eclectic tastes in music and they had this really funky mix of clientele, so I was exposed to everything there – rock, jazz, blues, pop, country. Even gospel and classical. And with everything going on at my house back then, I never wanted to go home, so … Dave and Wayne, the owners, I think they just took pity on me because they let me hang out there. I would go straight from school each day,” she said, smiling at the memory as she talked. “And they would make me sit in the office and finish my homework before I could start my drum lesson.”
“Sounds like they were really cool guys,” Benji said quietly.
“Yeah. They are,” she answered. “Anyway … once I got to high school, my interests changed.”
“Yeah?” Benji smiled. “To boys and parties and football games?”
“Oh, God, no!” Fae replied with wide eyes. “Well … some boys. But my new love back then was the guitar. I had pretty much mastered the drums and was ready for a new challenge. So, Wayne started teaching me the guitar. And I was spending so much time in the shop that he and Dave just put me on the payroll. I worked there after school every weekday and most Saturdays. But, just like always, I had to finish all my school homework before they would let me on the clock. I learned everything there. All the basics. Not just cleaning equipment and polishing instruments, but everything. I mean … there's not a string instrument that I can't tune and restring – guitars, basses, violins, cellos, banjos. Mandolins. Whatever. Setting up drum kits, replacing drum heads and tuning them. Even instrument repair.”
Benji nodded his head with raised eyebrows. “Sounds like a solid foundation,” he said.
She smiled. “Yeah. But it got better. Dave and Wayne would both do backline work for a few local bands in the area that they were buddies with, and a lot of times they would let me go with them and watch. By my junior year of high school I was working the backline for a few bands too. Once I graduated, I took a two-year college course and got my degree in Sound Engineering. And I paid for it with the money I'd saved up from working as a tech for local gigs. Word of mouth and being proficient at more than one instrument helped keep me busy. I worked pretty steadily back then. I've worked as a drum tech, a guitar tech, a bass tech. I can even run the Front of House if you're really in a bind. And after I got my degree, I was recommended for a gig with Christopher Nicolas. I teched for him on his summer tour two years ago, and when it ended, I was offered gigs with Torpedo, and then with a couple of country groups. Now here I am.”
Benji looked at her with a new appreciation. Maybe she could handle the job just fine after all. “Here you are,” he said again, still staring at her. “Well, I don't think there's any doubt that you are more than qualified to be here. And I'm impressed. I mean … you don't see many female techs at this level.”
“Oh, we're out there,” she said with a shrug. “It's just that most girls have a lot more sense than to want to go out on the road with a bunch of big, smelly guys for months at a time, being hit on and talked down to, and constantly having to work harder than the guys to prove that we deserve to be here. But there are a lot of really talented female techs working in music shops and small venues all over the country.”
Benji smiled at her again. “Well … I am honored to have you with me,” he said quietly, as he held her gaze with his own.
Fae could feel her face grow hot once more, and she silently cursed her fair skin. “Thanks,” she breathed. Was he flirting with her, or was he just being naturally adorable? “Um … can I ask how you started playing the bass?” she asked timidly. “I know it's a total fan question, but I've looked and … I don't ever recall reading that in an interview. And I've always wondered.”
Benji hesitated a beat and then smiled slightly. His upbringing was common knowledge, but he still didn't like to talk about it. “One of the foster homes I was in,” he said quietly. “One of the older kids had a bass and I was fascinated with it. That's basically where it started.”
“Oh,” she said with a smile and a small nod. “That's something else we have in common besides the bass. I did my time in the system too.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked with raised eyebrows, clearly surprised by this news.
She nodded once more. “Yeah. I mean, I didn't grow up in the system, the way you did.”
“That's okay. Any time spent in the trenches counts,” he replied. “Were you there very long?”
“Not very,” she answered. “About the time I found the drums and the music shop … my dad was dying. Liver cancer.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Thanks. Anyway … my mom, she didn't cope so well. She was an addict,” Fae said quietly, and she could see the shadow cross Benji's eyes at her words. “She was using before he got sick but, after he died it got much worse. I was taken away from her and placed in a foster home for about two years unt
il she could get herself together. Or … what passed for 'together' at least.”
“I'm really sorry,” Benji repeated after a pause.
“It's okay,” she shrugged again. “It all worked out in the end, right? For both of us.”
He snorted softly. “Yeah, I guess it did,” he smiled. “Well … I should get going and let you finish up here. Do you need any help?”
“Nope,” she smiled. “I got it.”
“Okay. I'm glad we talked, Fae. It was nice getting to know you a little bit,” he smiled. “I'm looking forward to working with you.”
“Likewise,” she smiled.
“And no more silly awkwardness or star-struck nonsense, right?” he smiled as he pointed a finger at her.
Fae giggled, looking down at the floor for a moment. “I'll do my best, sir.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh as he shook his head. “Sir!” He blurted the word out as if he simply couldn't believe it. “And we were doing so well.”
Her giggle morphed into full blown laughter. “I know, I'm sorry! I meant to say Mr. Bass Guitar God,” she smiled. And Benji laughed out loud.
“I'll see you later, Fae,” he smiled.
“Bye, Benji,” she said softly. And as he turned and headed for the exit, Fae felt herself smiling from ear to ear.
Chapter Three
Backstage at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, Benji paced in the wings. The others were all down in the dressing room, kicking back like usual before a show. But Benji was restless. He was antsy and fidgety. He rolled his eyes at himself and shook his head slightly. He was nervous as hell. And the bad part was that he couldn't seem to shake it. Back in the early days, when the band had first made it big, a little pre-show stage fright was cause for some type of chemical assistance, be it a drink or a joint, or a quick snort of coke. The practice had become routine over the years. God, what he wouldn't give right now for any one of the three! But he knew that he couldn't. Because he knew that he would never be able to stop with just one drink, or just one hit. It didn't work that way for him.
I have an addictive personality.
Forcibly pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Benji thought back on their pre-show prep. The soundcheck had gone great. He and Fae seemed to step right into an easy, natural rapport from the moment soundcheck began, and Benji could tell that Joe had indeed trained her well as far as his personal preferences. They went over the set list together and confirmed the different points in the show where bass changes would take place, and Fae assured him that she was on top of it. She seemed cool as a cucumber today. Competent and efficient and self-assured. As if she were in her element, and that had gone a long way toward easing Benji's anxiety about the show itself. But he knew that the show was only a minor part of his uneasiness right now. In his gut, he knew that the show was the very least of his worries.
His mind drifted, with tremendously little prompting, back to the thought of drugs. How easy would it be to find something useful at this very moment? He glanced around at the roadies he could see from his vantage point, and he thought about all of the people milling about backstage and in the dressing room. Somebody. One of them. Maybe even several of them had something on them right now, whether it was a little weed, or some pills. Something! It was almost a sure bet. And Benji knew without a doubt that if he made eye contact with just the right person … he could stop his hands from shaking. A light sheen of perspiration broke out across his brow at the thought, and his heart began to beat a frantic, jungle rhythm as his breathing shallowed. He was panicking. Fuck! He wiped at the sweat on his forehead as he heard footsteps come up behind him.
“Hey, man. I was wondering where you wandered off to.” Noah's voice was cheerful and upbeat, and Benji didn't want to deal with him right now. But there was nowhere to retreat to. He felt his friend's hand on his shoulder, and when he turned to face him, he watched as Noah's smile faded in an instant. The concern in his eyes almost made Benji have to vomit. He didn't want Noah to see him like this. “You alright, man?”
Silently, he shook his head, feeling like such a loser. “No. I'm not,” he panted, looking to the floor as Noah studied him.
“Benji …”
Benji raised a slightly trembling hand, as if to stop him from talking. And he quickly balled it into a fist, hoping Noah hadn't noticed his unsteadiness. “Noah …” He paused as he tried to catch his breath for a moment. Glancing up at him, he tried again. “When we first got started … when the band first formed. Man, I was … I was already using pretty regularly,” he muttered quietly, looking away once more in shame. “You knew that, right?”
Noah hesitated a beat, and then nodded his head. “Yeah, Benji,” he answered quietly. “I knew that. We all did.”
“Okay. So then you … you'll understand when I tell you that I have never gotten onstage clean! I have never not taken a drink, or a hit of something before getting out there and doing that,” he said very agitatedly as he motioned out to where their opening act had just taken the stage.
Noah nodded at him. “Yeah, man. I understand,” he told him.
“Do you?” he asked loudly.
“Yes, Benji. I do,” he answered definitively.
“Do you?” he questioned again, practically yelling this time. His voice was harsher than he meant for it to be, elevated with the level of frustration and anxiety he was feeling.
“Yes!” Noah yelled back. He took his friend by the shoulders as he faced him. “Look at me, man! Benji, I promise you. I understand! Because I have been exactly where you are right now!” He stared into his friend's eyes as he tried to talk him down. “You remember what I was like on our last tour? Well, when this tour started … I was in your shoes. Before the Thank Heaven tour began, I had never gotten onstage sober, Benji. Not once!” Benji stared at him in silence, his eyes never wavering from Noah's. “I swear to you, man, I do know what you're going through right now. Your heart is pounding, you're sweating bullets. And your hands are shaking so bad you're wondering how the fuck you're going to hold a bass, much less play one!”
Benji frowned at him, and then he nodded his head stiffly as he met Noah's eyes.
“I know, man,” Noah quietly assured him. “I know. But you can do this, Benji. I know that you can. Because out of the five of us … brother, you are the strongest one of us all. You always have been! You've had to fight your entire life, just to survive. And you made it, man. You clawed your way out of that miserable pit of hell that you were placed in, and you made it out the other side! And I know that you will make your way out of this too. And I am right here with you! Cheering you on. Giving you a hand when you need a little help. You can do this, Benji! 'Cause if I can do it … then my hero has to be able to do it!”
Noah's eyes were moist as he stared at him, and Benji felt the tears stinging his own eyes as he reached out and gripped him, pulling him into a sturdy embrace. He held him tightly for a while, and then patted his back a couple of times before releasing him. He pulled away, sniffing, and avoiding eye contact for a moment.
“Okay?” Noah asked cautiously after a long pause, and Benji nodded silently. Noah took a deep breath and sighed. “I came to find you because they need us in the Green Room for that interview with Entertainment Access. But if you don't feel up to it …”
“No. I should go,” Benji mumbled. “If I don't, they'll wonder why. And then the rumors will start.” He took a deep breath of his own and sighed heavily, running his hands over his long mane of wavy brown hair. And as they turned to head down to the Green Room, Benji stopped him. “Thanks, man,” he said quietly, finally looking Noah in the eye.
“Anytime.” He slapped a hand on Benji's shoulder once more. “Come on.”
As they made their way through the maze of hallways to the Green Room, Benji couldn't help but think about Noah's words. That was the second time he had heard his friend say that he was his hero, and Benji struggled to understand why. He felt so unworthy of that title and he had absolu
tely no clue what he had done to garner it, or why Noah suddenly felt that way. It made him think about his conversation with Beth right before he had left Maynard when she asked him if he was scared. He had told her that he was terrified of letting his brothers down. He felt that way now, more than ever. And he knew in his heart that if he did fall off the wagon, he would never be able to forgive himself for disappointing Noah. That would kill him.
When he and Noah entered the Green Room, they could see that the cameras were all set up for the interview and everyone was just waiting for the two of them. Once they were all miked and took their seats, the interviewer jumped right in.
“Opening night of this leg of the tour! How do you feel, guys?” she asked with a bright smile.
“We feel great! Excited,” Otis answered. “We're ready to rock. Are you?” he asked, playing right to the camera with a big smile.
“It always feels like a party playing at home,” Noah chimed in. “So we're excited.”
“And you guys have some cause to celebrate tonight because Benji's back,” the interviewer exclaimed, looking his way. And he felt a pat on his back from Cory, who was seated to his left, as the others clapped and whistled.
“That's right!” Buzzy exclaimed.
Their enthusiasm made him smile, but Benji had never been as boisterous or rowdy as his bandmates. Even before the drugs he had been something of an introvert, the result of never having anyone to rely on but himself. But he was used to experiencing the world through the mellow high of heroin, so he usually took a more laidback approach to everything. Including interviews. He hated them, and he normally kept quiet unless he was asked a direct question.
“So what does tonight feel like for you?” the reporter asked, addressing him.
The Essential Jagged Ivory (Jagged Ivory Boxed Set) Page 42