Vote Then Read: Volume III

by Aleatha Romig

  He’s out of the car as soon as it comes to a stop. Ignoring the calls and questions from the reporters and paparazzi, he crosses the lot to meet Milo. Dani and I watch as he talks to Milo for a few moments, nods, then waves at us. He gestures to the first bus, letting us know it’s the one we’re boarding. It’s a little smaller than the others. I wonder how many people we’ll share it with.

  There are a lot of people here. Of course I realized it wasn’t just musicians traveling. The road crew far outnumber them, and it looks like they have been assigned their own buses, while the bands travel separately, a few bringing along family or assistants. Okay, we’ll probably have another band or musician with us then.

  Stepping out into view of the cameras is the strangest feeling. No one is interested in me—thank goodness—but it’s still intimidating to know your every movement is being recorded.

  A man so tall I have to do a double take steps out of a car. Bending almost in half, he reaches in and grabs a guitar, slinging it over his back. His wild mop of curly brown hair whips around his face in the wind and he pauses to pull it back in a bun.

  “Who is that?” Dani asks.

  “I don’t know, but he sure is tall.”

  “And kinda gangly,” she adds, not unkindly. As he stands to his full height and starts toward us, I can see what she means. Long arms and legs—that aren’t necessarily out of proportion since he’s so tall—but the fact he’s slender as well does give him a unique look. Gangly is as good a description as any.

  “Hi, you’re with Tragic, right?” he says, smiling down at us.

  “We are,” Dani replies. “I’m Axton’s sister and assistant, Dani. This is Naomi and Caden.”

  “I’m Patrick Thorn. I’m on the opening stage for the festivals, but I wanted to say hello since I was just told I’ll be the opening act for Tragic’s next tour.”

  “That’s great,” Dani replies.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I add.

  “Thorn!” Milo calls, waving him over.

  “I’d better go. It’s great to meet you too.”

  His long strides eat up the pavement between him and Milo. “Good lord, that man is all limb and bone,” I remark, shifting Caden on my hip. “He seems nice.”

  Dani grins at me, pulling her duffel bag out of the trunk. “You have a thing for tall guys?”

  “I have a thing for nice guys. But it has come to my attention that tall guys are usually well…proportioned.”

  “You can say they have a big dick. Caden doesn’t understand yet,” she snorts.

  “Well, I’m not trying to add dick to his vocabulary.”

  Laughing, we make our way to our assigned bus.

  The parking lot is a bit of a madhouse for a few minutes while everyone and all their belongings are packed into the buses. Axton follows us onto our bus.

  “There’s a bedroom in the back with a double bed and crib.” We follow him through the living area where the walls are lined with two long couches. A small kitchenette is tucked in one corner. It’s no place to make gourmet meals, but it’ll do to keep some basics and snacks. Plus Caden’s food of course.

  The bathroom is larger than I expected with a stand up shower. I doubt the shower will get much use if we’re ending most days at a hotel. Just past the bathroom the hall narrows as we pass two sets of bunk beds, one on each wall.

  “These two fold up,” Axton explains, collapsing them against the wall to make more room. “We won’t need them.”

  I’m seriously impressed when we enter the bedroom which takes up the entire back of the bus. For such limited space, whoever designed it managed to make it cozy and comfortable. A crib is tucked between the wall and the bed. A leather chair much like the two benches in the living area sits on the other side of the bed. There’s not much room to walk around, but enough to get to everything without a struggle.

  A second tiny bathroom with only a toilet and single faucet sink takes up the remaining space. At least we’ll have two bathrooms to share with these guys.

  “Who else is coming on our bus?” I ask.

  Axton shakes his head, leading us back to the front living area. “Just the four of us. There’s a baby gate to block the bus entrance and everything is baby proof so he can have the run of the place.”

  “The rest of the band isn’t riding with us?” Dani clarifies.

  “No, I insisted on our own bus. Which is why we have the smallest one. I don’t want Hatch around some of the shit that goes on during the tour.”

  The man can surprise me, I’ll give him that. Maybe this trip will be easier than I thought.

  The hotel where we’re staying is very nice and it looks like most of the place has been taken over by the musicians and others who are part of the festival. Dani and I share a suite, each with our own separate bedrooms, and Axton’s suite is right down the hall.

  We’ve seen little of him since we got here, or anyone else in the band for that matter as they prepare for the first live show tonight. My hotel balcony overlooks the festival grounds and it’s amazing how fast the organizers have thrown this together. My first view of it was little more than an expansive field with a large stage at one end and two smaller ones spaced out down the right side.

  Today, it’s a well organized space with merchandising tents, rest areas, a food court with multiple picnic tables, and a beer garden. Areas are roped off to make it easier to navigate between stages and vendors.

  The early acts start in an hour or so and I can see the crowd of people already in line. Sun sparkles off of the multitude of cars parked in an adjacent field. People start trickling through the gates just as Dani steps out on the balcony with Caden.

  “Hey, Ax needs me to handle a few last minute things for him. I’ll have to catch up to you later,” she explains, handing him over.

  “No problem.” I wave my security pass. “I’ll be fine to go anywhere with this, right?”

  “Right. And you have Milo’s number in your phone, don’t you?” Before I can assure her I do, she continues. “Oh, let me give you Paul’s number. He’s head of security. If you get in any situation, you can call him.”

  “What kind of situation?”

  Dani shrugs, checking her reflection in the glass door. “Cornered by paparazzi somewhere, refused by some idiot when you try to get backstage. Stuff like that happens. Make sure you have your phone just in case.”

  “Will do.”

  “There are fans crowded around the back entrance. I asked one of the security team to escort you two to the gate. He’ll be up here in a minute.”

  “Thanks.”

  She bends and kisses Caden’s cheek. “Have fun.”

  Dani may not have really wanted this job but as far as I can tell, she’s good at it. Touring with him for a few cities last time must have taught her the ropes quickly. I’ve never felt more out of my element, but not in a bad way. I’m sure there are things I need to learn, but I’m excited to be in the middle of all this.

  After she rushes off, I double check I have everything I need for a day out with Caden. The all terrain stroller Dani thought of was a great idea. It’s comfortable for him since he can sit or lie in it, and the storage compartment in the back is big enough to store everything I need for him. No diaper bag for me. I also love that it has a shade, so I won’t have to keep coating him in sunblock all day long.

  The security guy taps on the door a few moments later, and we’re escorted down to the lobby, out the rear door of the hotel, and across the street to the festival grounds. With the security badge and my menacing associate, getting waved inside is no problem.

  Now alone with Caden, I peek down to see him taking everything in, his eyes wide. Quite a crowd has grown, though I know it will be double this by the end of the night. That’s why I wanted to come early to spend the day, because once things get too lively, I’ll have to get Caden out of here.

  It’s a gorgeous day, not too hot with a light breeze. Perfect. The first thirty minute
s are just spent exploring, walking around and taking in the view. Music festivals draw so many different types of people. From teenagers to middle agers, crazy hair and skimpy clothes, to the more reserved, everyone mills around, and I’m always impressed with the atmosphere of kindness and solidarity.

  It’s one of the few places I don’t see the judgement tossed between the generations or cultural groups. A beautiful day full of music just breeds happiness.

  An opening band is getting ready to play on the smallest stage. It’s a duo I haven’t heard of or met since they’re local. There isn’t too much of a crowd gathered around the small stage yet since people are still coming in, and the local bands aren’t who most are coming to see. Choosing a spot off to the side, I sit beside Caden’s stroller on the grass and pull his headphones out of the storage compartment.

  They’re strapped to his head just in time as the first few notes from a guitar ring out. They don’t completely muffle the sound, of course, and Caden’s eyes widen. A grin expands across his face as the woman begins to sing.

  Scooping him up, I stand up and point toward the stage. “You like that? See, she’s singing you a song.”

  A few people around us smile and laugh at the way he bounces around in my arms to the music. Yeah, I guess it’s in his blood. A swimmer and a music lover, like his father.

  The next few songs get the same reaction and I’m thrilled he’s having as much fun as I am. Their last song is a slower one, and his eyes start to droop. No surprise since it’s about an hour past his naptime.

  He doesn’t fuss when I recline the stroller seat and place him in it. By the end of the song, he’s asleep. Even the clapping and cheering doesn’t disturb him through the headphones. Pulling the shade, I make sure the sun isn’t hitting him, then take a seat beside him as the next band sets up.

  When the music starts again, I lean back on my hands, stretching my legs out in front of me. My eyes close as I turn my face up toward the sun, letting its warmth play over me. I’m having a great day, and to think there are months left of this. Days I can spend with Caden at the festivals, at new parks and playgrounds, exploring new cities. So much better than being stuck in a classroom or office.

  Even dealing with Axton’s difficult personality is overshadowed by the perks of this job. This is a lifestyle I could quickly learn to love.

  The second band wraps up, and another local band is getting ready, but Patrick Thorn is playing on the second stage in less than an hour. I’ve had a few chats with him since he introduced himself outside the tour bus, and I want to see him perform.

  Caden stirs from sleep as I’m pushing the stroller off to a shady spot at the edge of the field, away from the crowds. “Hey little man. There you are. Let’s get you changed and fed.”

  Changing his diaper is like trying to hold a wriggly eel. There’s so much going on around him and he doesn’t want to miss a second of it. He fusses the entire time.

  His mood changes once I’ve grabbed some food from the concession area and found a spot at the end of a picnic table. The small cooler bag I tucked into the storage compartment of the stroller has held up well, and the sippy cup of watered down apple juice is still cold.

  He sucks it down and munches on the cheese, crackers, and chopped turkey I’ve packed for him. Festival food is probably the most fattening you could find, but today I don’t care. Life is short. I’m eating the barbeque sandwich and cheese fries.

  It’s almost time for Patrick’s set. I start toward the second stage with Caden babbling and squealing at people as we pass by. I’ve seen quite a few other kids, but not many babies. I guess a music festival would usually call for a sitter.

  On our way to the stage, I pause at a booth set up between the ones hocking T-shirts. This one has an array of helium filled balloons tied to one end of the counter. The sign gives away what they’re actually selling, and I chuckle. $5 per balloon or 2 for $9.

  The bright colors catch Caden’s eye and he reaches toward the ones floating above his head. Leaning over the counter, I ask, “How much for a helium filled one for the baby?”

  Laughing, the guy unties two of the floating balloons and hands them over to me. “No charge. Can I interest you in a special one?”

  “No thanks, but thanks for the balloons.” Even if I hadn’t had a baby to be responsible for, nitrous balloons have never been my thing.

  A couple around my age step up as soon as I step back, and I wheel Caden’s stroller out of the way, then stop to tie one of the balloons on the side of the stroller where he can reach it. The other gets tied to the handle. If he pops the first one, I have a backup.

  The crowd for the second stage is significantly larger, and I find us a spot off to the side where we won’t get trampled. My phone beeps with a text from Dani.

  Dani: I’m just coming in the back gate. Where are you?

  Me: Second stage. There’s a green balloon tied to the stroller. Can’t miss us.

  A few moments later, she walks up and Caden grins at her. “Are you having fun?” she says, gently swatting the balloon.

  He squeals and returns his attention to batting it around while I put his headphones back on him. “He was loving the music, dancing around, making people laugh,” I tell her.

  “What about you? What do you think?” She gestures around her.

  “It’s not my first festival,” I laugh. “But I’ve been having a great time. Patrick is up next. I figured I’d get Caden back to the hotel after his set. It’ll be getting dark and the crowd is getting bigger. You know the wild stuff happens during the headliners.”

  “That’s true. The real fun is after dark.” She pulls a hair tie from her pocket and throws her long hair into a ponytail. “Ax has had me busy all day, getting things organized. I’m not really in the mood to party tonight. After this set, why don’t you let me take Caden back? He can sleep in my room tonight.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. I’m just going to chill out and watch TV anyway. And after all the excitement today, he’ll probably crash hard.”

  “That’s true.” We grin down at him as he pummels the balloon.

  “Okay, thanks. I’d like to stay to the end.”

  “You should. Then go backstage, meet the other bands. Have fun and get the whole experience. I know how exciting it is in the beginning. Trust me, after a few cities, the novelty wears off.”

  Her phone beeps and she quickly replies to a message. “Looks like we’re going to add a couple of bands next week, just for one city though,” she remarks. “Frantic and Guilty Realm.”

  My jaw drops. “Guilty Realm? Seriously?”

  I’m met with an amused grin as she tilts her head up to look at me. “Are you a fan?”

  “You’re sworn to secrecy,” I warn. “My bedroom was papered with posters of Niall Hemmings through middle and high school. It was a horrible schoolgirl crush.”

  Dani laughs and shakes her head. “That you clearly haven’t shaken completely. The drummer, huh? Nice choice. He’s got that silver fox thing going on now.”

  Our conversation dies as Patrick takes the stage. Unlike the others, he doesn’t have his own band, just three touring musicians playing with him, a guitarist, drummer, and a woman on keyboard.

  His stage presence is a bit awkward, but for someone so new, I imagine that’s normal. As he banters a little with the crowd, he seems a little more at ease, with a shy, embarrassed smile playing on his face. Sweeping his hand back through his long hair, he starts playing. He’s an amazing singer, and my look of surprise is reflected in Dani’s expression as she glances at me.

  “Wow,” I mouth, and she nods, turning her attention back to the stage. Caden bops along to the music, pausing to smack at the balloon occasionally. When he gets bored of it, I pick him up and move around with him, then Dani does the same. He’s been so good all day, but he’s tired and at his limit.

  After Patrick’s last song, Dani tucks him back in the stroller. “We’re out of
here little guy. Say bye bye to Naomi.” She regards me. “Be careful being here alone. You can always grab a security guy if you need to. Or if you go backstage, I’m sure some of the other family members and stuff are there so you can find someone to hang out with.”

  “Go, I’m fine,” I laugh.

  I’m more than fine. I’m having a great time. After watching the next band perform a song, I decide it’s time for some alcohol, since I’m off the clock and all. The beer garden section has more than beer, and I splurge for a way too large plastic cup filled with what was described as a margarita but is basically a slushie drowned in tequila.

  I’m not much of a drinker, and I can feel the effects after a few sips.

  “I’d go easy on that. They’re strong.”

  Spinning around, I confront the owner of the familiar voice, though it takes me a second to place him with his hair tied back in a bandanna. “Patrick! I saw your set. You were fantastic.”

  His shy smile returns. “Thank you.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Grabbing a drink before I watch Tragic. Want to join me?” The man at the counter takes his order and hands him a cup as large as mine.

  “Backstage?”

  “We can if you want, but I like to watch from the front row. Better show.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  It takes us a few minutes to make our way back through the crowd that’s growing denser by the second. Patrick steps up to one of the security officers near the front, says something in his ear, then reaches back to grab my hand, pulling me through the people. The officer escorts us around a barrier, then we duck back under it to get into the center of the front row. Close enough to reach up and touch the edge of the stage.

  A rumble of thunder rattles overhead, and I curse.

  “It’s not a real music festival if it doesn’t rain at least once,” Patrick says, grinning down at me.

  A few drops fall as the band starts coming out, and the crowd pushes forward until we’re crammed in like sardines. The moment Axton walks onstage and picks up his guitar, screams and cheers threaten to deafen me.