We caught small glimpses of amps and drums peeking out from under the sheets but couldn’t account for what it all could be. The drums in particular seemed to be on a massive drum riser. More than half the stage was smothered in this equipment.
“I wonder where those guys are. Did they already sound check?” I asked.
A voice snuck up on us.
“Hey, are you guys Trouble Bored?”
Nineteen
“How strong is it?”
A tall skinny man with a scruffy goatee stood in front of us wearing an AngerFM T-shirt, baggy cutoff jean shorts, black skate shoes, and a beanie featuring an embroidered Pac-Man on it.
“What's up, guys. I'm Pac-Man, AngerFM’s tour manager.”
“Hey, Pac-Man.” I shook his hand. “I’m Grayson. This is Steve, Wolf, and Derrick.”
“Hey, guys. Nice to meet you.” He waved. “When you finish loading in, I need at least one of you to meet me over by AngerFM's merch table for a quick pre-show meeting. We got a bunch of stuff to go over.”
“Sure. No problem,” I said as Pac-Man walked away.
I turned to Steve and Wolf. “Can you believe this is happening?”
“I'm freaking out,” Steve said.
“Where are they, though?” Wolf asked. “Where's AngerFM? I want to meet them.”
“Let's play it cool,” I said. “I’ll go to the meeting and see what's up.”
“I’m coming with you,” Wolf added.
Steve, Derrick, Nico, and Ryder headed back outside to grab the rest of the gear and merch.
A member or two from each of the three opening bands were standing around Pac-Man, who was sitting on AngerFM's merch table. Wolf and I listened attentively.
“Alright, guys, listen up! First of all, I just want to thank you local guys for coming out tonight and supporting the show. None of this would be possible without you.”
“That being said,” he continued, “I will be running the soundboard tonight. As you can see, AngerFM’s gear is already loaded onstage. Please DO NOT touch the black sheets. Anyone caught looking under the black sheets will be asked to leave.”
Wolf and I shot each other the same confused look.
“Drummers can set up on the floor in front of the drum riser.”
I mouthed, “What the fuck?”
Wolf shrugged back.
Pac-Man went on, “Everyone else take notice of the floor monitors next to the microphones. They belong to AngerFM and will not be turned on during your set. Do not touch them. Tonight isn’t the night to act like rock stars,” he finger quoted.
“If I catch anyone stepping on the monitors, jumping on them, kicking them, or tripping over them, I will end your set immediately and personally remove you from the stage. Also, absolutely no AngerFM covers tonight. That should be obvious. One last thing. Do not expect to meet AngerFM until after the show—maybe—when you can wait in line to get an autograph with everyone else. The green room is off limits, and there is security outside the door. So don't even try it. With all that being said, let's have a good show. You’re dismissed.”
Back in high school Wolf and I had been called down to the school resource police officer’s office and interrogated about our potential use of profanity during our band’s set at the only school-sponsored event we ever played. He had threatened to have the school suspend each of us for a week if we acted up. Fucking asshole.
Wolf and I walked away from Pac-Man’s bullshit pre-show meeting feeling the exact same way we felt after being harassed by that cop back in high school. Slightly worse, since this motherfucker was supposed to be on our side and clearly wasn’t.
“What a fucking asshole,” I said to Wolf.
“Fuck that guy.”
Steve and Derrick were helping Nico and Ryder set up the merch table.
“Man, is it just me or are there no chicks checking me out tonight?” Steve said to Nico.
“Boo-fucking-hoo.”
“Ah, I'm serious. This place is weird.”
“This place is weird,” Nico agreed, “but that's not why girls aren't talking to you tonight.”
“I don't follow ya, Neek.”
“Tonight is different, Steve. You guys are the smaller fish in this town. You took the show last minute—you're not even on the flyer. That line in the parking lot is for AngerFM. It's going to take more than showing up to get anyone's attention this time.”
Steve pouted. “I want to go home.”
As Wolf and I approached the merch table, I saw a roadie for AngerFM walk over and say something inaudible to Ryder, who walked off with him.
“How did it go?” Steve asked us.
“Alright,” I started, “so here's the deal—”
“—Pac-Man is a fucking prick,” Wolf cut in, “and fuck AngerFM.”
“What?” Steve asked.
“No. AngerFM are fine. I guess. Pac-Man is actually a prick, though. Fuck Pac-Man,” I said.
“Why? What did he say?”
“Basically whatever you already see onstage is AngerFM’s shit, and we can set up anywhere in front of that.”
“Even Derrick's drums?”
“Even Derrick's drums. They’re going somewhere between you and the drum riser.”
“How the fuck?”
“I know. We also need to watch out for their monitors, which apparently are everywhere. I don’t even know, dude. Just be mindful not to touch their stuff.”
Steve was looking more disappointed by the second. He reached into his backpack and passed out his homemade Rum&Cokes to comfort us.
“How the fuck are we supposed to rock with all that shit in our way?” he asked.
“Dunno. We're going to make due, though, because we didn't come all this way not to. We'll just try to relax and do our thing. People will love it.”
I was bluffing, hard. I had no idea if we could pull this off without self-destructing. We weren’t the best at dealing with authority after all. I was just trying my best to keep the peace and get us through the night.
The first band had already started playing—right on time, as Ben demanded. I started counting the members of my band over and over again to make sure nobody went missing tonight.
“Look at the size of that crowd,” Wolf said. “Yo, Nico. I’m about to freak the fuck out. You got anything?”
Nico responded, “Yeah. I got a few more joints. Check the medicine bottle.”
“No. I need something stronger, man. Do you have any Xanax or anything?”
“Ohh, you want pills? I got pills.” Nico looked over his shoulder. “Where the fuck is Ryder?”
“Gray and I saw him walk off with some roadie a second ago.”
“Shit. He might be making a sale. He’s got my lockbox with him.”
“Damn.” Wolf cracked his knuckles. “I feel like I’m having an anxiety attack.”
Nico pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He removed a couple cigarettes, stuck a finger in the box, and fished out a rolled-up cellophane wrapper. As he unrolled the cellophane, two pills appeared at the bottom of the wrapper.
“What’s that?” Wolf asked.
“You ever heard of Suboxone?”
“No.”
“This is Suboxone,” Nico stated.
“The fuck is it?”
“It's like halfway heroin...but not really. It’s like Oxycodone; it’s an opiate, but they give it to people who are trying to get off opiates.”
“How strong is it?”
“Strong enough to calm you down, but you’ll be able to play. You shouldn't drink with it though.”
“How much?” Wolf asked.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks, Neek.” Wolf popped the pill in his mouth and dry-swallowed it.
Back in Rotterdam, Natalie grabbed the last baby shower gift from her car and walked it to Luna’s front door.
“Last one.”
Luna stood at the top of the concrete porch. “Oh my God. Thanks, Natalie. You'r
e the best.”
They hugged.
“You're so welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it.”
“Hey, do you want to come in and hang out for a bit? Tristan gave the girls Monster, and now they're going to be talking shit on Xbox until, like, midnight. We could have girl time.”
“No, I should get going,” Natalie said. “I'm going to shower and clean up my apartment a bit before Gray gets back.”
“Nice!” Luna quipped. “Make it look good for when you dump his ass!”
The screen door flew open and hit Luna from behind.
“Holy shit!” Luna looked behind her. “Kaycee! What the fuck?”
“Sorry, Mom. I wanted to say hi to Aunt Natalie!” Kaycee waved.
Natalie waved back. “Hi, Kaycee! How’s Xbox?”
“We’re fuckin’ ‘em up!”
“Kaycee Nashville Blossom!” Luna started. “You apologize to me right now and watch your goddamn mouth!”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Kaycee cried.
“I’m serious! We don’t use Xbox words in front of company. Aunt Natalie is going to think you’re dumb if you can’t follow directions. Now you go tell Daddy if he ever wants you to have his last name, he can start paying better attention to you when I’m busy.”
“OK, Momma,” Kaycee pouted.
“Say goodnight to Aunt Natalie.”
“Goodnight, Aunt Natalie.”
“Goodnight, sweetie!” Natalie smiled back.
Once Kaycee was out of earshot, Luna turned back to Natalie and whispered, “Sometimes it feels like I am raising a bunch of retards, Natalie, I swear to God. Anyway, what time is Grayson supposed to be back? You should call me after you break up with him.”
“Well, I…”
“Oh, hey, Natalie.” Tristan stepped out onto the front porch in sweatpants and a beat-up hoodie.
“Hey, Tristan.” Natalie waved awkwardly.
“Thanks for everything today,” Tristan said. “I would come down there and give you a hug, but my ankle monitor will go off if I leave the porch.”
“That’s OK. You’re welcome.”
He relit a half-smoked cigarette, took a drag, then turned to Luna. “Uh, Kaycee said you wanted me for something?”
“Um, yeah. I want you to be a father to my fucking children, Tristan. So go back inside and watch them, and stop teaching them to cuss in front of Natalie. I’m trying to have girl time. The fuck.”
“OK, shit. I’m going.” Tristan took another drag off his almost finished cigarette.
“Let me get a drag off that,” Luna demanded.
Tristan handed her the cigarette. She took a long, meaningful drag, then exhaled for a couple seconds, handing the cigarette back to Tristan. Tristan took the last drag, then flicked the butt off the side of the porch.
“Later, Natalie,” he said.
“Goodnight...Tristan.”
As soon as he walked back inside, Natalie angrily whispered to Luna, “You’re smoking? You’re pregnant.”
Luna rolled her eyes. “It’s fine. Really. I only take a drag here and there. I smoked on and off when I was pregnant with the twins, and they are fine.”
“Not fine, Luna. That is not fine.”
“OK. You,” Luna pointed, “are changing the subject.” She folded her arms. “You aren’t going to break up with him, are you?”
“It’s...complicated, Luna.”
“You’re so much better than him, Natalie. You need, like, a fucking prince who’s charming and a basketball player and ready to settle down. You’re not getting any younger. You should be thinking about starting a family soon.”
“Whoa.” Natalie threw her hands up. “I don’t think I’m ready to start a family anytime soon.”
“Yeah, well, Grayson certainly isn’t. I mean, all he wants to do is go out of town with his friends any chance he can get. How do you know he’s not out hooking up with other girls?”
“Gray wouldn’t…” Natalie started. “I trust him.”
Luna tapped her foot. “Mhmm.”
“It’s getting kind of late. I should probably get going, Luna. I’m exhausted.” Natalie forced a smile.
“That’s OK. No matter what happens, I’ll be here. You should call me either way.”
Twenty
Straight to Hell
Steve, Wolf, Derrick, and I were watching the first band finish their set.
The lead singer shouted, “Thank you! We are SlackHole!”
The large crowd cheered. The lights came on as The SlackHoles started to break their gear down.
That was our cue. I looked at the rest of the band.
“Alright, guys. Let’s do this.”
We started bringing our stuff on stage and tried to set up while carefully navigating around all of Pac-Man’s obstacles. The space we were allowed was extremely narrow. We had about two and a half feet behind us total.
Wolf was surrounded by four floor monitors in a horseshoe shape by his feet that were set up for AngerFM’s lead singer. He had about a foot and half diameter space to stand in. We didn’t bother with our wireless systems.
Amongst the chatter of the full crowd, I thought I heard a familiar voice.
“I'm so happy we made it. When I saw their name on Green 90's MySpace page, I almost shit through my fucking tits.”
Who was that?
“Yeah, I go to all of these guys’ shows. They’re really big in Albany.”
Wait.
“Yeah. I know that one and that one personally. Like, we actually work together.”
Wolf and I looked at each other at the exact same time.
“How the fuck is Miranda here?” I asked.
“Bro, who cares. I’m actually glad to see her for once,” admitted Wolf.
“Who’s Miranda?” Derrick asked.
“Someone who knows who we are!” Steve answered. “And she brought friends!”
“Oh my God. Who the fuck is that? A new drummer?!” Miranda screamed.
Steve gave his mic one final adjustment and cleared his throat. “What's up? We’re Trouble Bored...from Rotterdam, New York…”
Feedback from our microphones could be heard over limited applause.
“...and, um, this song's called ‘Now or Never.’”
Steve looked at me, Wolf, and Derrick for a thumbs-up. Derrick went into a four count and immediately messed up our first song.
The crowd was silent. Panic swept over all of us.
Steve turned to Derrick. “Remember the CD? Four count, then roll into it! Go, go, go!”
Derrick started over, this time introducing the song perfectly. We ripped into the first song rocking as hard as we could in the limited space we had.
When it ended, the crowd finally cheered. Wolf immediately launched into the next song.
“‘Sixteen Again.’ Ready, boys? Hut-two-three-four.”
“Workin’ every morning just to make ends meet,
I got a whole lot ridin’ on the summer’s heat!
When I cash my check, I’m gonna sing this song.
Rockin’ to the music, baby, all night long!
* * *
Come on and dance with me,
In the summer night!
I want to feel like I’m sixteen again!
Come on, pretty baby, you know I’m a man,
And all I want you to do,
is dance with me tonight!
* * *
Sitting on my front porch playing guitar,
To the sound of the music comin’ outta my car!
Well, the sun goes down in an hour or two.
All my friends are comin’ over, baby, how ‘bout you?"
Nico was watching our set from the merch table. He had just finished selling a CD to a girl in a Lars Frederiksen and The Bastards shirt as Ryder returned to the table.
“Where were you?” Nico asked.
Ryder laughed. “That roadie just cleaned us out, son.”
“What roadie?”
“This roadie f
or AngerFM. He said those guys party hard. They'll take anything they can get their hands on!”
“Are you serious?”
Ryder handed Nico a thick roll of cash, rubber band and all.
“Holy shit!” Nico laughed.
Onstage we were wrapping up one of my songs.
“She's got a pillbox,
and she likes it that way!
She said there's one in there for everyone she used to know but doesn't know their names!
She does cocaine,
and she likes it that way!
If she could get it all the time, then she would do it all the time and she'd be dead right now,
right now, right now. Yeah!
* * *
She’s got a picturephone,
And her daddy lets her take his car.
She’s got friends that can get her into any bar.
Come on, now, you know she’s out of control!
* * *
It’s alright, girl, don’t worry nothin’ bout me!
You’ll be alright by yourself!
Four in the mornin’
You’re out the door again,
And you’ll be alright by yourself!”
Steve whipped out a guitar solo using his wah and fuzz pedals together. When we finished the song, the crowd was going fucking crazy. We were covered in sweat and out of breath as we broke to tune our guitars.
“Aw, yeah. You guys are awesome!” Steve told the crowd.
“Hey, thanks, Steve!” I replied. “You're pretty good tonight too.”
Derrick drummed a little BU-DUMP-TSH.
“But what about this crowd, huh?!” shouted Wolf.
The crowd cheered.
“We love you!” Miranda yelled.
“Oh, thanks, Miranda,” Wolf said, his speech slightly slurred from the Suboxone hitting his Rum&Coke.
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