Chapter 43 The Still Stars
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The Still Stars
Leaf adjusted the last knob and tightened the string until the needle on the tuner pointed straight up. He then unplugged the cable from the device, plugged it into the small amp on the floor, and started playing—just loud enough for him to hear.
The booming sound of the opening act flowed in from the stage, while over at the drink table, Andrej and José were goofing around, teasing Carol, who was trying to have a conversation on the phone.
Leaf laughed at their childish antics. But when he noticed the guy with the camera pointing at him, he tilted his head and listened to the notes.
It felt good to know that his hands were doing what he demanded of them again.
He had taken the guitar to the clinic, but during the first four weeks, it had been almost impossible for him to play.
His hands trembled so much that frustration nearly overwhelmed him, almost prompting him to quit therapy.
Those were exhausting days. Once the cold turkey period was over and he was allowed to receive visitors again, Tristan visited him almost daily, despite the hour-and-a-half drive each way.
“Parker!” Andrej called from the drink table.
Leaf raised his head and glanced past the cameraman to Andrej, who was holding up a can of soda and a half-full glass of orange juice.
“Want some?” the bassist asked.
Leaf nodded, prompting Andrej to fill the glass with soda before joining him on the couch.
“Thanks,” Leaf said, enjoying the refreshing drink.
Since his return, all alcohol had been banned from the backstage area. Although his burning cigarette still lay in the ashtray, he would address that vice another time. When the cameraman turned away, Leaf picked up his cigarette and took a deep drag.
The guy had been lurking around them since the soundcheck. Carol had hired him to cut a video clip from the material. “Just ignore him,” she had casually advised.
That was easier said than done. After all, Leaf had spent the last three months delving into every little detail of his shitty life to get back on track.
It had been tough, and the withdrawal was brutal.
He had to remind himself over and over again that Tristan and the music were more important than the drugs.
That everything was more important than the drugs.
And that this was the last rehab he wanted to go through.
“How can you ignore the camera so easily?” he asked Andrej, who was sitting next to him with his legs spread wide.
“No idea,” he said, laughing as he set the glass on the table and reached for his bass. “I guess I just like being in the spotlight.”
Leaf shook his head with a smile. “You really have no problem with that. Admirable.”
“Oh, come on, Parker. It’s easy for you, too—which, honestly, I’m glad about. I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to go on stage without drugs.”
“You seem to have forgotten I was clean on the first tour.”
“Almost clean,” the bassist corrected him with a broad grin. “No, seriously, I haven’t forgotten. But the thing with Milo … wow. I’m glad you got your shit together again. It would’ve sucked if we had to get Iggy. Sorry, I was so … I don’t know, freaked out.”
“It’s cool. I get it. I was so damn close to the edge. I don’t want to go there again.”
“I’ve got your back. You know that, right?”
Leaf nodded curtly and took one last drag of the cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray.
Andrej picked up the bass and plugged in a cable. “Pass me the tuner.”
As Leaf handed it to him, José sat down with the drumsticks beside Andrej.
“One hundred days!” he said, drumming the sticks on the wooden table and putting on a proud grin.
“One hundred days of what?” Leaf asked, leaning back.
“Shortly after you checked into rehab, I smoked my last cigarette. Oh yes, I now consider myself a nonsmoker.”
“Congratulations!” Andrej said.
“Did you have any relapses?” Leaf asked dryly.
Andrej rolled his eyes. “Very encouraging, Parker.”
“What? That would be normal.”
“I didn’t have relapses, just slips,” José clarified. “But I cut myself some slack—picked that up from the app.” He paused, frowning. “Not that you should look up to me as a role model, buddy.”
While Andrej stood there, mouth agape, confused by José’s words, Leaf laughed in amusement.
“Don’t worry. I’m not stupid.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” José countered wittily.
“Haha,” Leaf replied with a serious tone.
“Is it …” Andrej cleared his throat and looked between José and Leaf. “Is it okay to joke about this? I mean, you almost died.”
“Let’s hope that was the last time,” Leaf said, lighting a new cigarette and winking at Andrej. “As long as José is here, you don’t have to worry.”
“Wha …” Andrej was at a loss for words.
“That wasn’t the first time he almost kicked the bucket,” José explained casually. “What was that now? The third time? I stopped counting.”
Leaf nodded. “Yeah. Three times. That’s enough.”
“Stop it!” Andrej exclaimed, horrified. “That’s not funny!”
“No, it’s not,” José agreed. “But what are you going to do? You can’t lock him up.”
Leaf snickered and tapped the ash into the ashtray.
“Oh yeah!” José made a gesture as if he had just remembered something. “We tossed around this idea of hypnosis. Leaf, what do you think about it?”
Andrej chimed in, “That was just talk, nothing serious.”
“I’ve tried it before,” Leaf replied. “Didn’t seem to stick.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, after the last big crash, before … When was that?”
“That was just before you met Milo and Tristan,” José recalled. “You tried hypnosis back then? You never mentioned it to me.”
“It was offered at the clinic,” Leaf said, shrugging. “Maybe I missed the refresher.”
“You never cease to surprise me, Parker,” Andrej said admiringly.
At that moment, the door opened, and a stage technician called out, “Twenty minutes left!”
Leaf hadn’t even noticed that the opening act had finished their set, but he was glad they had their own dressing room.
This way, Nightstalker could focus entirely on the upcoming show.
The countdown announcement always worked like a trigger, heightening excitement among them.
José warmed up by using the sofa and the table as drums, while Andrej finally tuned his bass and plugged it into the small amp under the table.
Since the last tour, it had become customary for them to jam together before the gig. Most of the time, they played jazz to warm up and relax.
Mid-song, the bathroom door opened, and Tristan emerged.
He moved lightly to the rhythm of their music, loosening his shoulders as if preparing for a fight in the ring.
He made his way to the drink table, poured himself some water, and danced back and forth.
He appeared striking in a loose black shirt, rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his jeans.
Around his neck, he wore a necklace with a silver feather pendant, and on his left wrist, Milo’s bracelets.
The warm-up visibly did him good. The man positively exuded charisma. While Leaf’s fingers automatically created music, he couldn’t take his eyes off him. He loved watching Tristan, so carefree and focused on the upcoming gig. Tristan swallowed his drink as he scanned the dressing room.
“Alright, everyone,” Carol announced, putting her phone away. “It’s official: Diego Garcia has been charged with incitement to murder and drug trafficking.”
Tristan almost choked on his water and coughed, while Leaf felt like his blood froze in his veins for a few seconds. The dressing room fell silent.
“What?” Carol asked, arms outstretched. “That’s good! Justice has prevailed!”
“Diego’s sister probably sees it differently,” Andrej said, giving Leaf an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “You should probably stay away from her from now on.”
Leaf struggled to keep a straight face. Andrej’s grin was infectious, and although Leaf knew it was closer to the truth than just a bad joke, he burst into laughter. “Damn, man, that woman is gonna come after me.”
The door opened again, and a technician approached the table. Leaf and Andrej unplugged the cables from their instruments and handed them to the technician, who took them to the stage.
Leaf gradually felt the nervousness; something was choking his throat, and his breathing became erratic. So, he stood up and also relaxed by shaking his arms. Andrej and José did the same. Leaf’s heart pounded faster and faster. He hopped on the spot two or three times and loosened his legs.
Like a paparazzo, the guy with the camera sneaked around them, making Leaf even more nervous. But when he caught Tristan’s gaze and couldn’t look away, he felt a warmth spreading inside him, making him forget everything around him.
Tristan smiled lovingly at him, watching him from afar, and when he gently bit his lower lip, Leaf knew what he was thinking. It hadn’t even been an hour since they had jerked each other off in the bathroom.
God, that was sexy.
Just the thought of it warmed Leaf’s core, so much that he felt compelled to tear his gaze away from Tristan.
He took one last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray. Tristan suddenly stood next to him, wrapped his arms around Leaf’s body, and nestled against him. Resting his face on Leaf’s neck, Tristan kissed him softly. Leaf smiled and hugged him back.
“What?” Tristan asked. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No,” he replied immediately, combing his fingers through Tristan’s black curls. “It’s just … It’s nice when you seek my affection. It makes me feel loved.”
“Dance with me.”
Leaf wanted to protest, but before he knew it, he was swaying with Tristan slowly.
“Yes,” Tristan said beside his ear. “I love you. You’re the best. Nobody knows me as well as you do. Just the thought of losing you too, paralyzes me. Please stay with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“That’s good.”
As Tristan lifted his head, he found Leaf’s mouth and kissed him gently. His soft lips were electrifying, sending warm waves through Leaf’s body. Feeling Tristan’s slender form against him reignited Leaf’s desire.
“Fuck, why do you always turn me on?”
Tristan laughed against his lips. “No, you turn me on.”
“Stage is clear!” a technician called out.
“Let’s go, guys!” This time it was Carol, cheering them on.
“Or do you want to have one last quickie?” Andrej teased.
Tristan released himself from Leaf’s embrace and danced backward toward the dressing room exit. “We already had that earlier,” he said with a sly grin. “And as soon as the gig is over, we’ll continue.” With that, Tristan winked mischievously and left the dressing room.
“I really didn’t need to know the details,” Andrej said.
“Onto the stage with you!” Carol called out.
Leaf swiftly grabbed his glass and cigarettes, then hurried after Andrej and José into the dim corridor.
“Hurry up!” Andrej called back over his shoulder, laughing. “Or do we want our singer to hit the stage before us?”
Leaf wasn’t worried about that. He knew Tristan would wait for them at the stage entrance and let them go first. And that’s exactly what happened. Like a boxer, Tristan bounced up and down and shook his arms. When everyone was there, they stood in a circle and put their arms around each other.
Turned away from the world. Just them. No one else.
“I love you, guys,” Tristan said. “You’re awesome.”
“Let’s show them what we can do,” Andrej said.
“Hell yeah! Let’s rock!” José exclaimed.
“Let’s rock!” they all shouted together.
As they released each other, José and Andrej stepped onto the stage. Leaf approached Tristan again, sought his gaze, and smiled. The love in Tristan’s eyes warmed his heart. Gently, he cupped Tristan’s face in his hands and kissed him tenderly on the lips.
“I love you, Mingan. Never forget that.”
“I won’t.”
Tristan’s determination gave him strength and confidence. The world was open to them, and they were ready to play in all corners of the globe.
“See you on stage,” he said, stepping toward the stage entrance.
Tristan winked at him. “You know I’ll follow you anywhere.”
Leaf glanced over his shoulder.
Tristan grinned, his eyes flashing with that dark sparkle once again. “Save some energy for later. You’re gonna need it.”
Leaf laughed and shook his head as he climbed onto the stage, slinging his guitar over his shoulder and getting ready.
At his signal, José struck the sticks together and counted in.
The stage was instantly flooded with bright spotlights.
Once Leaf’s eyes adjusted to the brightness, Tristan stepped up to the microphone, greeted the audience with a somewhat reserved manner, and prepared for his cue.
No one knew Tristan better than he did, and that was okay. While the man might remain an enigma to the world, to him, Tristan was the love of his life. Perhaps one day he would find the right words to make that clear to him. Until then, he had no choice but to show him in other ways.