by T Gephart
Silence.
Well the mystery of the need for a spontaneous chat had been solved. We didn’t even need the few seconds of Jeopardy music to get us through. How much of it he knew was still unknown, and I’d rather keep it that way. Internally I cringed; it was like your dad catching you making out in your bedroom. Not cool.
“We are sooooo not having that conversation.” Like ever.
“Awesome.” Troy nodded, almost looking relieved.
Yeah, let’s just sweep it under the rug and forget I had sex with one of your friends, shall we.
“So you going to stand there and freak me out some more? Rusty was just in here all reciting movie lines and jumping on furniture. And Joey is probably going to need a crash cart before our first song. I’m not a hundred percent convinced you are going to want us back tomorrow.” It hadn’t been a smooth transition of topic, but at least we weren’t talking about Jason anymore.
“Just want to make sure you know that you can come to me. You know, if you need something. I promised your dad I had your back.” Troy’s eyes met mine. Something uneasy flicked through those hazel pools of his, maybe concern? Responsibility?
“Troy, I’m not a little girl anymore. You left, remember? You all did. I’ve been doing this without you having my back for a long time.”
It wasn’t to make him feel bad; honestly, I just didn’t need him in the same way as I did back then. I was okay with the way things were, making my own way in the world. It sure as hell made me stronger.
“Well, regardless.” He didn’t look away. “The offer stands.”
“Thanks.” His endearing words thawed my hard-ass routine. I was losing my edge tonight, all these feelings. Gah. “But can you leave now? I wasn’t kidding, you standing there is freaking me out.”
“Sure, I’m leaving.” He laughed, pulling me into a one armed hug. “Knock ’em dead, Angie.”
The door closed behind him leaving me alone in the dressing room. It’s where I found the most comfort. Not having to pretend. “I am a machine. I’ve got this.” I peered back at my reflection.
Nope, still wasn’t convinced.
****
Faces were a blur. The lights blinding me from seeing any definition other than raised hands in the air. The noise as they chanted—deafening. Except they weren’t chanting for us.
I would change that.
I’d make them love us.
The stage plunged into darkness as we moved into position. The noise got louder as the anticipation rose, and still I could hear the thumping of my own heartbeat above the crowd.
One of my hands wrapped around the mic as I peered out into the darkness, the pop of an amp signaled Rusty was ready to go. This wasn’t a rehearsal. This was the real deal, and we’d finally made it to the dance.
“One, two, three, four.” Joey tapped out on his sticks as a wall of fucking lights ignited above us. The sound exploded from every direction as we launched into our opening number.
There was no pretentious introduction. Fuck that. We didn’t do that shit. If the crowd wanted to hear stand-up they should have gone to the Comedy Lounge. We were here to rock, and that was exactly what we were going to give them.
My body moved as I slipped into the familiar trance and every single hesitation I’d had of being on the stage dissolved. It didn’t matter how I’d gotten here, I deserved to be there now. It was mine to own, and I’ll be damned if I was leaving any of it unclaimed. I was home.
The boys were just as electrified as I was, the energy on stage, fevered. Joey thinking he was Superman was right on the money. I was right there with him, and tonight I could fly.
One song.
That’s all it took and I had the crowd eating out of our hands. I didn’t care if the attention was fleeting, if it was just until they got their Power Station main course. For those forty-five minutes, they were mine. Some even knew some of the lyrics, singing them back to me by the time I’d hit the chorus. It was the ultimate high and there wasn’t a drug, either natural or synthetic, that could even come close.
Then all too soon it was over.
The final note echoed from the PA as we left our instruments where they stood and waved goodbye to the crowd. And as someone killed the lights and we walked off the stage, there wasn’t any doubt left. The applause that was still ringing in my ears—that had been for us.
“That was better than sex.” Joey twirled his stick as he walked beside me, the grin on his face a mile wide.
“You saying that just proves you’ve been doing it wrong all these years.” Rusty chuckled as he grabbed a towel from a roadie. “Trust me, it’s better when a woman is involved, not just your hand.”
“It’s not better but comes a close second. Sorry Joe, I’m with Rusty on this one.” Max piped in, snagging a Gatorade on his way toward us. His grin just as wide as the rest of us.
“Angie, back me up on this one. You get it, right?” Joey wasn’t giving up.
“Not taking sides, boys. As far as shows, that one was pretty freaking awesome.”
“Nice set.” Jason stepped out, seeming to materialize from the dark. It was kind of creepy if you asked me but I was in too good of a mood to care.
“Thanks.” The word slipped from my lips before I’d had a chance to substitute a fuck-you or I-don’t-give-a-shit-what-you-think. He’d caught me off guard while I was feeling post-show-happy.
“Was that a smile, Angie?” A satisfied grin spread across his mouth. Jerk.
“I smile, Jason, just usually after you leave. It’s less manufactured that way.” Ha! See, I was back in the game, my response prompting my smile to widen.
“Yeah, most girls are left smiling after I leave.” He wasn’t annoyed, he was smug. “You’re right, nothing manufactured about that.”
Asshole.
“Well, we might get going then shall we?” Joey jerked his head toward the door making it even more awkward. Clearly he didn’t want to stick around for a game of verbal tennis. “See ya, Jase. Have a good show.”
“Right behind you, buddy. Later, Jase.” Max followed Joey down the hall as they bailed. Lightweights, both of them.
“What about you? Have somewhere else you need to be?” Jason moved closer, giving Rusty a hard look. He seemed to enjoy the fact that my other two band mates had scattered.
“Nope, I like this vibe the two of you have going.” Rusty eased back onto the heels of his feet. “It’s like HBO but without the nudity. Not sure if you are going to challenge each other to a duel or a dance off. Just FYI Jase, Angie does a killer running man.”
I wasn’t sure who cracked first, probably Jason, both of them were laughing their asses off. Jase clapping his hand across Rusty’s back. “You’re okay, dude.”
“Yeah, you’re not bad either.” Rusty—who moving forward would be known as the traitor—gave him an easy smile.
Great, my best friend and the man that I despised were falling into a weird bromance.
“Would you two like a moment to make out? I can leave if you want.”
“Don’t be jealous, Ange. Listen Jase, as much as I’m sure you would enjoy it, I’m not into dating dudes. My heart just belongs to the ladies.”
Seriously, we were going to be having words when I got Rusty alone.
“You can leave anytime, Rus. I think I’ve got it from here.”
Instead of vocalizing my displeasure—which I’d already established I’d be doing later—I gave Rusty aka Traitor one of my death stares. He’d been around me long enough to know the look wasn’t an idle threat.
“Fine, fine. Keep your hairy-eye ball for Jason. I’m leaving.” Rusty pulled me into a hug. “I’ll see you in the dressing room. See ya, man.” The latter part of his goodbye for Jason’s benefit.
“Later.” Jason smiled as we watched Rusty leave.
Our earlier conversation hadn’t been forgotten.
All that fantastic tension, his threats of not being done.
All still there.
>
But what I hadn’t been able to achieve with my pep talk in the mirror had magically happened on stage. Jason on my care factor wasn’t rating highly. Not now at least, with that buzz still coursing through my veins. I couldn’t even stop the smile if I wanted to. See that’s how good performing was, it was able to wipe away bad feelings. In the short term. And currently that was the only term that counted.
“He seems like a nice guy.” Jason’s eyes flicked from the hallway to where Rusty had disappeared. My smile possibly giving him false hope.
“He’s the best guy.”
Rusty was undeniably the best kind of guy, especially if we were talking about the present company. While I was happy, I wasn’t delusional. And I did say that buzz was short term.
“Are you two together?” Jason tilted his head to the side as he studied my face.
Were we together? Did he mean sleeping together? The question had thrown me so much that I didn’t even ask why he wanted to know. “Does it matter?”
“I guess it doesn’t, I’m just curious.”
There was no waver in his voice, no shrug, no hint of whether he wanted the answer to be in the positive or the negative.
It was a weird stalemate. Where I wasn’t sure if his indifference upset me or I welcomed it. At least he wasn’t trying to apologize anymore, hearing him say he was sorry just dug the knife in deeper. Thinking that night had meant more than it did was bad enough, having his pity … No. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction.
That’s why I refused to hear him out earlier. It’s why I refused to enter the conversation. Yes. I was angry. Yes, I was probably bitchier than I needed to be. Yes, it was a long time ago. But I’d changed that day and there was no going back to the naïve girl.
Funny how I’d practiced this moment for years, all my insults lined up in a row ready to hurl at him and now I had not a one. Was it too much to wish for some rogue occurrence to transpire? An earthquake or a freak hurricane? Anything to give me an out. Something so it didn’t look like I was running. It didn’t have to be fancy. A blackout would suffice.
“Hey Jase, James was looking for you.”
That random act of God I’d been praying for appeared in the form of production crew.
“Thanks, man. Tell him I’ll be right there.” Jase answered without moving his eyes from mine, not giving me a reprieve.
“Looks like you’re being summoned. Have a good show, I’ve got to get changed.”
The words thankfully tumbled out of my mouth. They were good words too—concise, non bitchy and not too familiar. I liked them. They made up for all the ones I couldn’t formulate while I was standing there wondering if every single time I looked at him I was going to have wild mood swings.
Honestly, I’d rather not feel anything, but currently I was swaying somewhere in between stab-him-in-the-eye anger and why-did-you-break-my-heart anger. Trust me, even though anger was the common denominator, they were still very different.
“Stick around, Angie. Things have changed.”
There were so many minefields in that sentence my brain couldn’t compute. Did he mean tonight’s show, the tour or him? Reading into it was just plain crazy, because whatever he meant, didn’t matter. Not to me, at least.
That girl, the one who would have cared, was gone and now I was in her place.
“You’re right. Things have changed.”
Angie Morelli was a lot of things: beautiful, angry, volatile and motherfucking hypnotic on stage. If she’d been good the last time I’d seen her perform, she blew me out of the water now. It wasn’t that she could sing—she’d always had a killer set of pipes—she had a presence. The shit that you can’t learn—the ability to work it and own it—she had it in spades.
So what was she going to do after this? Go back to playing grease monkey and turn her back on what she had tonight? Play some random gig in a dive bar in Butt-fuck, USA to get her thrills? Fuck that.
Her bullshit I’m-going-to-do-four-shows-and-bail deal wasn’t going to fly. Not if I had anything to do with it.
Pushing the issue wasn’t something I usually did. My laid back approach reaching legend status. Not because I didn’t care, but because I knew there was a bigger picture. And while it was usually someone else coming up with some dumbass scheme and me sitting around watching the fireworks, my hands were rubbing together in the anticipation.
News Flash. Angie and her band were staying on the tour.
Of course she hadn’t been informed yet.
We’d get to that.
Along with all the other issues.
Oh. And won’t that be fun. That rumored voodoo doll was probably going to get a workout.
Did I give a shit?
Nope, not a one.
I wasn’t stupid enough to think her recent thaw was going to be her regular disposition. Though I had to admit, that smile of hers, I’d forgotten how damn sweet it was. Hopefully I’d be seeing more of them. Even if those smiles weren’t directed at me. Not that I wanted to see them directed at some other asshole. Yep, ’cause that made all the fucking sense in the world.
Besides, from what I could work out she was dating her guitarist. And as long as he treated her right we’d have no problems. Yeah, yeah—the fucking irony. Pot. Kettle. I’m an asshole. Let’s move on.
So being that we weren’t going to be BFFs anytime soon, I was going to need to enlist some help. And I wasn’t above playing dirty. Not when the end justified the means. It’s not like she could hate me anymore than she already did. Fuck. It. I’d take her death stares and anything else she had to throw at me if it meant giving her that happiness. Which is what she was going to get. And the first part of that was keeping her on this tour.
****
“Hey Rusty, you got a minute?”
Surprisingly he hadn’t been too hard to find. While our original support act had taken to channeling their inner Jane’s Addiction, Rusty, Max and Joey had been chilling with the sound engineers and lightening director at control. They’d watched our show at the desk and were shooting the breeze with our crew.
Still wasn’t sold he was the right guy for her, but he seemed responsible so at the very least he had my respect. Had to wonder why he was without his girl.
Not that it was any of my business. Or at the very least should not have been any of my business.
“Hey Jase, isn’t the stalker routine a little embarrassing for you?” He gave me a big ass grin. “I already told you we weren’t making out.”
The peanut gallery erupted into laughter. They were easily amused.
“Yeah, I know but you can’t blame a guy for trying.” I played along with his freaking rouse, not wanting to have this conversation with the rest of band in tow.
Not sure what arrangement they had but I wasn’t convinced one of them wasn’t going give Angie a full report. The less people knew about it the better, and given I hadn’t even had a sit down with my own band, I didn’t think broadcasting in front of a crowd was a smart idea. Gossip on tour spread as easily as sniffles at a kiddie daycare.
“You wanna grab a beer?” I tipped my head to the doorway, having no intention of actually drinking.
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Rusty stood up, joining me as I moved away from the group.
Responsible and not stupid. Rusty earned another nod. Still didn’t mean I liked him with her.
“So aren’t you supposed to be shaking babies and kissing hands or some shit like that? You going AWOL from the meet-and-greet?” Rusty wasn’t wasting any time getting to the what-do-you-want. I had to hand it to him. There was no bullshit with him. I could see why he was tight with Angie.
“It was a short one, the guys have their girls and kids they were anxious to get to.”
The addition of wives and offspring had dramatically changed the landscape. The fact that these additions weren’t mine didn’t bother me at all. I loved having the girls and the kids running around. Besides, after years on the road there were only so many sets of tits
you could sign before it all became a major snore.
“So you came to find me, should I be worried or flattered?”
Because bullshitting wasn’t in my bag of tricks and I had zero inclination to add it now, I figured I’d cut to the chase. The deserted hallway served as good a venue as any to have the conversation.
“Listen, you guys were really great out there tonight. Tight sound, great vibe, low on the theatrics. It was a solid show.”
“Thanks. Why am I feeling like there is a but coming?”
“No but, I was just honestly surprised. Not going to lie, I expected an unpolished bar band and assumed you guys would choke. I can admit when I’m wrong.”
Me being surprised wasn’t a lie. While I’d assumed Angie was going to be great, the other guys were an unknown quantity. And considering they’d had no prep time and zero lead up, the adulation I was giving them was well deserved. Not that it changed my reason for this secret squirrel meeting. And as much as I manned up when I was wrong, it was more about getting Angie locked in for rest of the gigs and less about patting them on the back.
Rusty shot me a look as he tried to work out my angle.
“Ok-ay. So. Is there somewhere we are going with this other than giving me an ego stroke? I prefer them a little lower to be honest, and by a girl, no offense.”
“It’s not an ego stroke, I’m just hoping you are seriously considering staying on the tour.” And get your lead singer to agree, because we all knew that would be the deciding factor.
I’ll admit I left out the last part. No point to rock the boat. Just because he seemed like a decent guy, didn’t mean I immediately trusted him. In fact, I didn’t trust him. And yet, we were still having this conversation so I guess I cared more about this girl than I’d first admitted.
“Is this a serious offer, or you just getting me hard for when your lawyers come to fuck me?” Rusty looked like this was the first he was hearing of it. It wasn’t the fake kind of surprise either; it was a genuine I-haven’t-heard-this-shit-before kind. What do you know; Angie hadn’t been on the level with them.
“Wait a second, what contract did you sign?”
I pulled the pin and threw the grenade. And wait for it. Three … two … one.