Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Malik
“Dude, I swear that goofy grin hasn’t left your face in three months.” Creed leaned over my bunk as I typed out a quick text to Spencer about our concert in Sacramento.
“If you meet someone as awesome as Spencer, you’ll be goofy too.” I waited for his reply, watching the bubbles. He always responded in complete sentences with proper punctuation. I ribbed him that it was an old guy thing.
He countered it was a lawyer thing. That he never wanted there to be any misunderstandings.
I didn’t bother to point out that, without tone, words could always lead to misunderstandings.
—I miss you too. Mama and I will meet you in Black Rock. —
“There’s that grin again.”
I smacked his thigh. “You’re just jealous because my fiancé is coming and you only have your mother. What happened to Seraphina?”
“She said monogamy wasn’t in the cards if I was going to be out of the country for seven months.”
“Ouch.” I winced. “You never said anything.”
“You were missing your very faithful man. Why was I going to yuck your yum?”
I frowned. “We’re friends. That’s sort of what friends are for.”
“I told Reese.”
“Oh.” I squinted. “I don’t know whether to be offended by that or not. I’m glad you talked to someone, though.”
“Oh, don’t kid yourself—she wasn’t all that sympathetic. She never liked Seraphina. Always felt she was, like, a band bunny.”
I chuckled. “For Razor Made? That’s a bit of a stretch.”
“Hey.” He balanced himself as the bus hung a left turn.
The driver, Vera was a fantastic person. She used to fly Hercules planes into the arctic circle. After her military career, Pauletta’s father had recruited her to work for him in various capacities.
Pauletta, being magnanimous, had convinced her father to front the costs of our tour.
He’d done the same for Grindstone a few years back and had been rewarded handsomely for that investment.
So, in the hopes of Razor Made making it big, Mr. Magnum was providing us with a tour bus.
Our manager, the lovely Pauletta, had arranged six stops down the Pacific coast as we headed to Rocktoberfest. None of the stops would compare in size to Black Rock, but with every show we gained confidence.
We got closer to the cohesion Carson spoke of so often.
And we were able to test out the new songs.
The album, Razor’s Edge was going to drop while we were on stage.
I didn’t understand all the logistics involved with this. The music wouldn’t be available to fans before the show, but they’d be able to download it afterward.
Carson swore this was the best way to do things. Too early, and the Rocktoberfest goers wouldn’t get an exclusive. Too late and fans would be looking for something that didn’t exist yet.
“Spencer’s taking Mama to the airport? They’re flying together?” Creed tapped a beat on his thigh.
“Yes, Spencer is taking Mama to the airport. Yes, Pauletta has organized a camper van for Mama. You’re worrying way too much.”
I was still trying to figure out when I’d get some quality time with my man. Quite possibly, that wasn’t going to happen.
“I’m not worrying.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“Well, you would be stressing if—” He winced. “Shit.”
I patted his thigh. “Yes, if my mother was coming, I’d be worried about her.”
“That was really insensitive of me.”
“Dude.” I used his favorite word. “She’s been gone for years. She wouldn’t want me wallowing in my grief.”
“Yeah?” He cocked his head.
“Yeah.” I sat up, careful not to hit my head.
He sat next to me. Close. Comfortingly.
“I’d do anything to have them back—but life doesn’t work that way. Would they be happy knowing I’m on a tour bus and headed to a rock concert? Possibly not. Would they want me to be happy? Yes.”
“But the symphony was to make them happy.”
“True. I enjoyed it. Music’s in my blood and my soul. Didn’t get an ounce of that from my parents. In the end, though, as long as I’m performing, I’m happy. I’d like to believe they’d be pleased as well. We’re dropping a record in just a couple of days.”
“I still can’t believe Carson chose us.” He continued to drum his thigh.
“Neither can I.” We’d never spoken about this because we hadn’t wanted to jinx our good luck. To do anything to imperil our good fortune.
“Like, how did one of the biggest producers in the world hear about a little indie band from Vancouver?”
“And why did he pick us and ask us to give him nearly seven months?”
We eyed each other and, at the same time, said, “Pauletta.”
I shook my head. “How did we not see this?”
“Partly because we didn’t realize just how rich her father really is. He’s one of the most successful business people in Vancouver—and that’s saying something.”
“So humoring her with a pet project would be a rounding error for him.” I scratched my nose. “She must really believe in us.”
“I think she does. And I’d be happy to ask her, but she isn’t here.
” Our manager had the worst case of motion sickness.
Tour buses were out, and airplanes required her to have heavy medication.
If she drove herself, she was okay. She and Mickey were flying into Reno and then Pauletta was driving them to Black Rock.
Thornton, Lydia, and Kato had a camper van rented and were following our tour—joining us when they wanted to film things. Pretty chill.
Grindstone was in their own tour bus and were taking a direct route from Vancouver to Black Rock as they didn’t have any concerts planned.
I eyed Thornton, who was playing a game of cards with Freddie. The poor guy was missing his husband terribly. Apparently the two men were planning for a big reunion once we all arrived at the campsite.
Axel was undoubtedly mooning over his husband, but Hugo hadn’t been able to secure the time off school this year.
Which I thought was shitty, but Hugo said something about a professional commitment.
I’d keep an eye on Axel to make certain the guy wasn’t too bummed out.
“Hey, we’re just about there.” Thornton waved. “And look at the bus ahead of us.”
Creed vibrated next to me. “That’s Maiden Fucking Voyage!”
Thornton cocked his head, with his slightly floppy blond hair going floppier.
“He means Maiden Voyage. We knew they were coming. Embrace the Fear, Social Sinners, Midnight Hunt, Queen Anne’s Revenge, and Warrior Black are all going to be here as well.” Excitement raced through me.
“Plus Grindstone.” Thornton chuckled. “Please don’t forget my husband’s band.”
“This is like a reunion for you, right?” I plopped myself on the bench seat next to him. “Any dirt you wish to dish?”
He shook his head. “You saw the documentary.”
“Shit, man, I’m sorry.” Thornton’s younger sister had died from a drug overdose, and he’d blamed Axel and Ed for nearly ten years.
“It’s okay. Kyesha’s death impacted a lot of people.
I’ve had people watch the documentary—seeing Ed’s, Axel’s, and my pain—and decided they needed to get clean.
I mean, an addict has to do it for themselves…
but understanding the impact their illness has on others can be profound.
Some good has come out of that documentary.
” He rubbed his forehead. “Like marrying the bass player…”
Creed snorted. “Well, nothing like banging a rock star.”
I glared. “I’d like to think Spencer is with me for my witty personality, sense of humor, and hot body.”
This time, Thornton snorted.
I mock glared.
“I think he’s with you because he loves you.” He winked. “Lion’s Gate Bridge and all.”
“Oh, good one.” Creed nodded vigorously. “You do have a lot in common with Spencer. You’ve always cared about that environmental shit. And about social justice.”
Thornton cocked his head. “What do you care about?”
“Getting laid.” Creed headed to the fridge to grab a soda.
“How’s that going for you?” The documentarian arched an eyebrow.
I coughed my laugh.
Freddie, who’d been busy scrolling on his phone, snickered.
I elbowed him in the ribs.
He just kept grinning.
Creed waved his hand in disgust and moved up to the front of the bus so he could keep Vera company.
Reese rolled out of her bunk. “Did I hear we’re almost here?” She yawned. “I can’t believe how long I slept.” She slapped my shoulder. “I’ll never sleep tonight.”
“You will.” My phone buzzed with an incoming text, but I ignored it. “We’ve got rehearsal this evening and our performance tomorrow night. You’ll be exhausted by the time we’ve run through our set. And you’ll sleep tonight because you’ll want to be at your best tomorrow.”
“You promise you won’t make noise knocking boots with your boyfriend? Oh, oops, fiancé?”
“We’ve got a tent. Not that you needed to know that. And we’ll be sleeping, I promise.” In truth, we hadn’t spent a night apart since I’d returned from Greece. This mini-tour, amazing as it had been, had been hard on my heart.
“I’m going to watch the shred off.” Reese grinned. “Give me something to keep me out of trouble. Oh, and the drum-off, of course.”
“Of course.” I murmured the words. Because where else would our drummer abscond to?
“Meg’s participating this year. Which is kinda cool given she gave birth just a few months ago.” Thornton checked his phone. “They just hit the Oregon/California border.”
“Weren’t you from Oregon?” Since he was checking his phone, I felt free to check mine.
“Yep. Then I met a Canadian lad, fell in love, and married him. I’m in the process of obtaining my citizenship. Quite a rigmarole. Totally worth it, though.”
“Fair enough. I’m lucky Spencer and I are only from different neighborhoods and not different countries.”
“Yes, there is that. Axel and Hugo are much the same. Happy to have overcome their differences.”
I chuckled. “That’s an interesting story.”
“Yep.” He glanced out the front windshield.
—We’re in the air. —
I breathed a sigh of relief.
—Just get here safely, baby. That’s all I want. —
The rest would sort itself out.