Chapter 5 Re #2
“Are you fit?” Carol pressed, her gaze fixed on Tristan. “Can you stand on stage for two hours?”
He nodded, nervously wringing his hands.
“That’s good,” Carol said, taking a sip of beer before continuing. “Very good indeed. You have an interview scheduled with Paradise Rock on Wednesday. Andrej and Tristan, you’re in charge of that.”
“Why me?” Tristan asked softly. “Can’t José …”
“No, they want you. Andrej will back you up.”
Leaf wasn’t surprised that Tristan wanted to skip the interview.
Though gifted as a songwriter and poet, facing reporters’ questions was always challenging for him.
While he hadn’t rebelled against it before, given the events of the last three weeks, it was understandable that he wasn’t in the mood for an interview.
Leaf had never been talkative. It showed in the first few interviews, after which Carol hadn’t forced him further. He would have found it easy to respond to all the questions in sign language, but with words … He never seemed to find the right ones.
He felt a tug in his hand, the urge to place it on Tristan’s leg overwhelming him. His whole body yearned for Tristan; holding him earlier wasn’t enough. He wanted more, needed more.
Screw the resolutions!
Just before giving in to his desire, he reached for his glass and took a sip of beer.
“Chicago was confirmed today,” Carol continued. “That brings us to twenty-three gigs across the States. I’ll give you the exact schedule next week.”
As she spoke, Carol discussed her meetings with the label, the opening acts they’ve secured, and the sound engineering responsibilities for the tour. They also scheduled band rehearsals and agreed to meet daily at two in the afternoon.
The thought of a band rehearsal was exhilarating because Leaf couldn’t wait to play again. The fact that he would see Tristan every day soothed his soul. Even now, just sitting next to him brought a sense of calmness that Leaf cherished.
Unfortunately, the effect was overwhelming for Leaf. His limbs felt heavy, and fatigue washed over him as he teetered on the verge of collapse. He couldn’t allow himself to succumb. Suddenly, one thought consumed him.
With cocaine tucked into his jacket’s inside pocket, he knew what to do. He stood abruptly, excused himself to the restroom, and locked himself in a stall. As he snorted the line, fireworks exploded in his head. Guilt melted away, and his confidence surged anew.
All good, he told himself as he stood in front of the mirror, wiping away the remnants of the white powder. Just stay away from him.
But how could he do that when he felt so drawn to Tristan? Just the thought of being alone with him took his breath away. The idea of what he would do with him created a warm current that shot straight to his core. And now, with cocaine in his system—how could he hold back?
“Yes,” he whispered, tying his hair into a fresh knot. Distance is probably for the best.
He sniffed, rubbed his nose once more, and headed back to the bar.
He stumbled past the wooden tables, almost on autopilot, until he reached the counter and sank onto a bar stool.
His actions were mechanical as he slid a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and rummaged through his pockets for a lighter.
“You can’t smoke here.”
Surprised, he looked up. The bar had filled up a bit by now. Several tables were occupied, a group was tossing darts near the entrance, and an old Aerosmith song was playing through the speakers. Leaf ignored the thought that they were likely all journalists and removed the cigarette from his lips.
“What would you like to drink?” the bartender asked, tying her blonde hair back. “You’re in this band too, right? Aren’t you …?”
“Jameson,” Leaf said, relieved when she simply smiled knowingly and grabbed the bottle from the shelf.
Leaf pulled out some bills from his wallet and placed the money on the counter as she set the glass of whiskey in front of him. She then grabbed the money and made her way to the register.
As soon as Leaf took a sip, warmth flooded through him instantly.
A heavy sensation enveloped him like lead, making it a challenge to remain upright on the chair.
His pulse quickened, and the blood rushed to his ears, intensifying the sensation.
Gripping the glass with both hands, Leaf struggled to maintain focus.
“I’m Lisa,” the bartender said, handing him the change. “You’re Leaf, right?”
He managed a slight nod. That was a bit too much right now.
“Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”
He cleared his throat. “All good.”
“Just don’t pass out on me.”
“C-could I have a glass of water?”
Without a word, Lisa fetched a few lemon slices and made him a lemonade. “Here, with lots of sugar.”
Leaf gratefully downed it when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he flinched.
Carol slid on the stool next to him. “Leaf! How are you? Are you ready for the show?”
Leaf pushed the empty glass aside and took another drink of whiskey. He glanced suspiciously at Carol and nodded.
“Great!” she exclaimed, but then her tone changed.
“Leaf, I want to be open. I won’t allow you to jeopardize everything with your escapades.
If push comes to shove, I’ll be the one deciding what’s acceptable and what’s not.
This is business. Understood? I don’t care what happened or who did what.
Fact is: You’re a wreck. I hope you realize there’s a lot of money at stake here.
And if you screw up, you’re out. So, pull yourself together, man. ”
Leaf didn’t miss the benevolent and almost motherly tone at the end of her speech. Weary, he leaned his elbows on the counter and buried his face in his hands.
“Leaf, I’m also willing to do something about it,” Carol said earnestly. “I can get you help. It would be a shame …”
Leaf raised his hand. “I got this.”
“And what was that earlier?”
“Dehydrated,” he lied, not knowing what Carol was referring to.
“That thing with Tris? You and Tris? Can you handle it?”
Leaf nodded.
Do I have any other choice?
Once I’ve sorted things out with Diego, everything will be fine.