Chapter 37 - Soundcheck

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Soundcheck

Tristan traced the rim of the empty beer glass with his finger, his gaze fixed on the lingering foam at the bottom.

His notebook lay open beside him, next to a pen borrowed from Cindy, the bartender.

Sensing his need for solitude, she left him in peace, refilling juices and prepping the bar for the evening shift.

The Doors’ “Roadhouse Blues” hummed softly in the background, adding a layer of gritty nostalgia to the atmosphere, while Andrej and Iggy were still setting up the drums. Accustomed to the interminable waiting of tour life, Tristan relaxed and let his thoughts drift.

He had learned to manage these quiet moments, though they sometimes weighed heavy on his mind.

He didn’t know whether to be worried or hopeful. When he met José at Leaf’s place at noon, he sensed it wasn’t a good sign. Hearing what had happened erased any doubts he had about his conversation with Carol the previous day. He kept watch over Leaf for a while as José took a nap for a few hours.

Tristan was still trying to figure out what Leaf meant when he claimed he was responsible for Milo’s death.

Was it because he had gotten Milo the job?

That didn’t make sense, given the situation.

Milo had gone to pick something up, and then a deal had gone bad.

It wasn’t like Leaf had pulled the trigger.

Tristan was surprised to find he could think about it again, even if only in small doses. Shortly after Milo’s death, he had completely shut down. Carol had dealt with a lawyer about the matter, and Tristan didn’t even know if it was the same one handling the Frank Chelsea case now.

“They’re here!” Chris, the sound technician, shouted. “Let’s start.”

Tristan glanced over his shoulder. Behind Andrej, José got up on the stage and settled in at the drums.

“Want another one?” Cindy asked, pointing at his empty beer glass.

Tristan cleared his throat and briefly glanced around. The club didn’t open until eight, so he sat alone at the bar, passing the time. He had intended to jot down a few lines, but his thoughts kept intruding.

“The calm before the storm, huh?” Cindy said as she placed a new beer in front of him.

It was only his second drink, and the glasses were small. Nonetheless, he was aware he would need to eat something later. He forced a friendly smile and took a sip.

“Okay, start!” Chris called from the mixing console.

Tristan turned on the barstool to face the stage and watched José steadily beat the bass drum.

“Okay!” Chris gave a thumbs-up. “Now the snare!”

José hit the snare, and Tristan turned back to the bar, drinking his beer and waiting for the next instruction.

“Toms!”

Always the same. The calm before the storm is really just noise.

He rested his elbows on the counter and waited.

“Hi-hat!”

The hard, metallic hits echoed in his ears.

“Cymbals!”

It clattered and clanged as though all the bottles behind the bar had crashed to the floor at once.

“Okay, go for it!” Chris shouted, and José went all in.

Tristan glanced back to the stage just as Leaf appeared next to him, eyes glistening, lips trembling.

Tristan knew that look. As much as he tried, he couldn’t withstand it.

There was so much love and longing in it, like he hadn’t seen in a long time.

Leaf didn’t need words to show how much he loved him.

When Tristan lowered his gaze, Leaf gently touched his forearm and stroked his hand.

“Want a drink?” Cindy asked.

Leaf nodded and pointed at Tristan’s beer. For a moment, time stood still. They waited until Cindy set the glass down and returned to the end of the bar to cut limes.

Why have we kept this a secret until now?

All Tristan wanted was to take Leaf in his arms.

Damn, man! He almost died last night. And now he’s standing in front of me.

He grabbed Leaf’s wrist, drew him in, and wrapped his arms around his back. As Leaf hugged him, Tristan let out a sigh.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Tristan murmured into his neck. “Never. Again. Got it?”

“I’m sorry.”

Tristan absorbed everything he could from Leaf: his warmth, his earthy scent, his reassuring softness as he held him close, unwilling to let him go. Leaf was his comfort, his family, his one great love, and Tristan couldn’t fathom a life without him.

To remind Leaf of this, he moved back slightly, cupping his cheek before kissing him gently on the lips.

Overcome with emotion, he pulled away, struggling to hold back tears.

His body trembled as Leaf placed a hand on the back of his head and continued to kiss him, offering comfort that conveyed the depth of his longing.

“We have so much to catch up on,” Leaf whispered against Tristan’s lips.

Tristan laughed and rested his forehead against Leaf’s.

He didn’t want to let go. He cherished this closeness, despite the unresolved issues looming ahead.

A wave of happiness washed over him, a feeling he hadn't experienced in weeks. Leaf’s presence here meant he was on the right track, and Tristan was determined to support him every step of the way.

“Okay! Andrej! You’re up!” Chris called from the mixing console.

Tristan almost forgot where they were; he straightened up again and flashed a sheepish smile. Leaf held his hand and grinned. With his other hand, he grabbed his glass and took a sip.

José was still behind the drums, spinning his sticks and winking at Tristan. Andrej jumped onto the stage, slung the bass over his shoulder, and started playing. It didn’t take long for Chris to give him the okay.

“Good! Now the guitars! Leaf! Tristan! Where are you?”

They unclasped their hands as if they had done something forbidden.

Tristan picked up his glass and notebook and followed Leaf onto the stage—though he longed for more touches and wanted to snuggle back up to him.

The closeness had felt so good, but Tristan set his beer down next to the speakers and placed the Schecter around his neck.

The spotlights blinded him, making it impossible to see Chris at the mixing console.

“Okay! Go ahead, Tris!” a voice called from the darkness.

Tristan began with a chord progression, moved on to some power chords, and then launched into a solo. Playing a solo next to Leaf always felt humbling. No matter how hard he tried, his skill never matched Leaf’s.

It was Leaf’s turn next. As always, he went through each effect individually and in combination. He tweaked them until everything was perfect. This could take a while, so Tristan took his beer glass and turned to José.

“Hey,” the drummer said with a mischievous smile.

Nothing gets past him, Tristan thought, nodding and taking a sip. “Everything okay?” he asked, glancing briefly at Leaf.

“Well … considering the circumstances,” José replied with a shrug. “You know how it is.”

“Did you tell him anything?” Tristan had hoped José would pave the way after he told him about his conversation with Carol. But the drummer shook his head.

“I’ll leave that to you.”

Thanks a lot.

“Good! Tris! Vocals! Say something!” Chris instructed.

Tristan set the beer glass on the floor beside the mic stand and stared at the silver ball. Say something. The phrase that always stole his words. And yet he was the poet. The lyricist. All of America celebrated him for that.

Pull yourself together.

Tristan cleared his throat and stepped closer to the microphone.

“There’s a garden

Flowers and trees

On the grass

Under the leaves

I saw you

My dear

My lovely one

In the shell of darkness

Behind the sun.”

Tristan’s voice dissolved into the darkness, and for a moment, there was silence.

“Very nice,” Chris said.

Leaf inched closer. “Is that new?”

Tristan nodded, pleased. He had composed it while watching over Leaf.

“Okay! Now sing first, and then scream as loud as you can,” Chris directed.

That was the part he hated most. Singing was fine, but screaming without music was still difficult for him, even after countless soundchecks. But he got through it and tried not to show his embarrassment.

It felt ridiculous to scream into a microphone just to adjust the mixing board levels. The only consolation was that Andrej often sang backup vocals in many songs and wasn’t spared this humiliation either.

How did we manage this at the release concert?

Tristan tried to remember, but that day was shrouded in such a thick fog … All that remained was a feeling that slept deep inside him and the certainty that it was better not to wake it.

“Perfect!” Chris said intently. “Now play something. I’ll set up the stage mix.”

Tristan put in his in-ear monitors. “Alright, let’s play ‘Yesterday.’”

José counted them in, and they started playing. They continued only until the first solo, then stopped.

“Can you turn up the vocals for me?” Tristan asked.

“For me too,” Andrej added.

“Sure. Leaf? How about you?”

“More bass and lower the vocals.”

They played a second and third song until everyone was satisfied. Afterward, they made way for the opening band that had just arrived.

Tristan set his guitar on the stand and cracked his knuckles.

After every soundcheck, he still felt like he was pretending in front of the few people present.

It was as if he weren’t good enough, like a little kid who keeps messing everything up.

The relief was always immense when the soundcheck was finally over.

He was the last to enter the backstage area and caught a glimpse of Leaf and Nathan disappearing into the dressing room.

Not a good combination, considering Nathan was his supplier.

But tonight, he was here as a photographer.

Since Nathan had supported and photographed Nightstalker from their early days, Tristan knew him well enough to trust that he wouldn’t give Leaf anything.

Who am I kidding? He probably already stocked him up for the whole weekend last night.

“Tris!” Iggy called out, greeting him with an exuberant hug. “Long time no see. Glad you’re back.”

Tristan returned the hug but quickly let go. As Carol stepped in through the back door, she waved at him. The way she was nodding made it clear she wanted to speak with him.

“Wanna grab something to eat?” Iggy asked.

Andrej was immediately in, and José got his hoodie.

“Tris?”

“Maybe I’ll join you later,” he replied, peering down the hallway toward the dressing room.

José put a hand on his shoulder. “We were at Valerie’s earlier. Leaf got you a sandwich. Just grab it when you’re hungry.” He then glanced back and greeted Carol.

Tristan was glad he had filled José in on his efforts with Carol earlier that day. Although it had been too soon to draw any conclusions, things were still unclear. As Carol waited for him, she appeared to have news to share.

Andrej, José, and Iggy slipped out the back, and Carol walked up to Tristan.

“Let’s go outside,” she said, opening the door to the back alley.

It was already dark, the place dimly lit by a lone streetlamp. Hidden behind their cars, they could talk in peace without being visible from the main road.

“So,” Carol said, taking out her phone and opening the app where she kept her notes.

She brushed her blonde hair back and cleared her throat as if preparing for a long speech.

“I couldn’t postpone the gigs in Seattle and Portland.

You still have to do those on Monday and Tuesday.

But I found a spot for Wednesday after making some calls. ”

“Wednesday.”

“Yeah. That’s good, right?”

Tristan nodded, forcing a thin smile. José’s words from this morning still rang in his ears — Leaf had almost died. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s good.”

“Tris? You’re going to tell him, right?”

“Yeah… Of course.” Tristan knew he wasn’t fully present and widened his eyes. “I’ll tell him.”

Carol scrutinized him. “What happened?”

A slight twitch of his mouth was all Tristan could manage. Then he sighed. “Leaf OD’d last night. He…”

He wanted to say something to get it off his chest, but somehow he couldn’t find the words.

“How…?” Carol asked, completely taken aback by the news.

“José was there and Nathan too. He had naloxone with him.”

They were silent for a moment until Carol spoke. “All the more reason for him to agree to the therapy.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Do that. They’re only holding the spot until tomorrow afternoon.

He has a celebrity bonus, you know? I have to let the promoters know by tomorrow evening.

If Leaf doesn’t start therapy, he’ll have to keep going on the tour, whether he likes it or not.

We’ll also need to start looking for a replacement just in case. ”

It was actually good news—they had the opportunity to reschedule a few concerts. But the idea of touring the world without Leaf loomed large and sent him into a panic, especially now that they had started to reconnect.

“Where is he anyway?” Carol asked. “Was he at the soundcheck?”

“Yeah, he…” Tristan ran both hands through his hair and breathed in the fresh air. “He’s with Nathan in the dressing room.”

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