Chapter 16
DRAKE
Wednesday, the first day of the festival
Opening day was even more grueling than I’d anticipated. Zeke and I split the issues, but they were legion. Most were things a Google drive full of documents and instructions could’ve solved, but this wasn’t technically my rodeo, so I kept my mouth shut.
My shoes were a bigger issue. Any moment I had to myself, where I wasn’t being badgered for this or that, I found the nearest available anything to lean against, taking at least some of my weight off my feet.
Unfortunately, after the gates opened, there weren’t a ton of seats in the festival grounds other than near the food vendor stalls—and they were usually all occupied—or in the audience areas for the stages.
The pain in my feet drove home that me playing a set tomorrow night wasn’t feasible. I could’ve asked the bands scheduled before and after me to each add thirty minutes or so to their sets, but the ticketholders had paid to see three acts. I’d prefer they got what they paid for.
I pulled out my phone.
Me:
I need to bail on playing my set tomorrow night. Any ideas on who might be able to fill in for me at the last minute? (hint, hint)
Wesley:
Not me.
Wesley:
Hall of Fame is on sabbatical in Vermont. What about them?
Me:
Are you kidding? If they’d be willing, that’d be unbelievable!
Wesley:
Let me reach out to Bastian Hall. I’ll let you know what he says.
Me:
You’re the best
Holy shit, if Wesley could get Hall of Fame to come, our festival would be made. As long as they didn’t mind opening for Satyr’s Kiss. One could argue that Hall of Fame deserved a headline spot, but I’d see what they said before worrying about it.
The opening day crowd was huge. Zeke had texted me that ticket sales were already higher than last year, but I was having trouble enjoying the festival’s success.
It was 4:00 p.m. I was hot, and I hadn’t had any lunch.
And the worst part was my feet, ankles, calves, thighs, hips, and spine were all in various states of pain.
After I snapped at a band roadie who just wanted to ask a question about the electrical outlets, I took a mental step back.
What good was I doing here, if I was causing people to have a horrible experience at the festival?
There was no rule that I couldn’t take a fucking break and rest.
I texted Zeke to tell him I was going to the cabin for an hour.
He responded with a thumbs up, but I hadn’t waited for it.
Finn had put the leftover stew in the fridge, and I knew there was more of that bread.
I could take my shoes off and soak my poor feet.
Maybe I’d text Finn and ask him what shoes he wore.
I didn’t even care how ugly they were, I just needed relief.
As soon as I was inside the cabin, I took off my Adidas. Fuck, that was so much better. I hadn’t decided what I’d wear for the rest of the day, but it wouldn’t be those. Maybe I could get something overnighted from Amazon to wear for the rest of the festival.
In ten minutes I was sitting at the kitchen table, eating stew and the lovely bread, while my feet soaked in a huge bowl of warm water.
My phone chimed with a text. I was relieved it wasn’t Zeke with a festival emergency.
Poppy:
Mac and I are coming in on Friday night. Any chance you’ll have some free time to hang out and catch up?
Me:
I’ll make time. Also, I have two new songs to play for you.
Poppy:
Fuck yeah! I’ve just started thinking about my next album, so this is perfect timing.
Me:
If you like them
Poppy:
I’ll like them. If they’re not right for the album you know I’ll tell you. But I’ll still like them
I put a heart on her last text. I’d finished my lunch, but the thought of walking the dishes to the sink was almost overwhelming.
My text chime went off again, and I was grateful to postpone my journey.
Charles:
Where are you?
Me:
In the cabin. Are you at the festival?
I opened Charlie’s contact record to update his name.
Charlie:
Not yet. Kirk and I will be at your cabin in 10
Me:
OK? It’s unlocked
No response. Fucking teenagers. I chuckled. As if it’d been that long since I’d been a teenager. I couldn’t stop my brain from comparing the age difference between me and Charlie and between me and Finn.
It’s not about the years, dammit.
I hobbled to the sink with my dishes, then I went into the bedroom. Might as well see what would work for the remainder of the evening.
Ugh. Not my cowboy boots. They were fairly comfortable, but they were also snug. My feet were swollen as hell. No way could I get those on. I’d also brought some leather lace-ups, but those had zero support.
Converse it was. Fuck. Except.... I looked around. The left one was in the closet where I’d put them this morning. But the right one wasn’t with it.
I walked the room, checking under and around all the furniture.
I even searched the living room. No shoe.
Fucking hell. Not that I’d been excited about wearing the Converse again, but now I was down to only my Adidas for at least today and tomorrow.
Shit, I’d forgotten to check Amazon for what I could get overnighted.
Did they even overnight to small-town Vermont?
I went back to the kitchen to get my phone when Charlie knocked on the door and let himself in. “Hey, Drake!”
“Come on in. Hey, Kirk.” They were carrying shopping bags. “What’s all that?”
Charlie reached into his bag and pulled out my right Converse.
“Hey! What the hell? I was looking for that!”
He wrinkled his nose. “I hope it wasn’t to wear, because, Drake, this thing stinks.”
I glared at him. “I wore it for sixteen hours yesterday. Did Finn accidentally take it with him when he left?”
He grinned. Kirk walked around him to put his bag on the kitchen table. “These cabins are sweet. Here, sit down.”
I blinked. “Me?”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Yes, you. Your boyfriend bribed us to go shoe shopping for you.”
I gaped at him. “He did?” Holy shit. Finn really was campaigning for Boyfriend of the Year, and we’d only been officially dating for a few days.
I watched in wonder as the boys pulled out six—six!—boxes of shoes and several pairs of socks.
Kirk pointed at the chair again, and I sat obediently. “That’s a lot of shoes.”
Charlie grinned. “Your boo said if we weren’t sure about sizes to get you both and return what didn’t fit.” He held up a box of Hokas. “Try these first. The guy at the store said they’re really popular for people who’re on their feet all day.”
Numbly I took the box from him. “What are y’all getting out of this?”
They looked at each other, grinning. “Finn said he’d take us on a weekend trip in June!”
I opened the box and pulled out a shoe. Already I could feel how much sturdier it was than my Adidas or Converse. “Yeah? Like camping?”
“Wherever we want to go within reason .” Charlie rolled his eyes at the last part.
“Maybe the beach! Or one of those hotels with an indoor waterpark!” Kirk whipped out his phone and started searching.
I put the other shoe on and stood up. “Oh, my god. I need these.” I walked around the room. “Okay, you can take the rest back.”
Charlie shook his head. “Nope. Finn said you should keep however many pair fit you, and the shoe guy said it’s better for your feet if you change shoes in the middle of the day. Also, don’t wear the same shoes two days in a row.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Does the shoe guy work on commission?”
Kirk laughed. “It’s true. We googled it to make sure.”
Charlie held out the next box, so I sat down and removed the Hokas.
In the end I kept three pairs, one of which were clogs that Finn apparently swore by.
They’d felt weird when I put them on, but after five minutes I hadn’t wanted to take them off.
Hopefully any photos of me wouldn’t show my feet.
Dirk would laugh his head off, and he was too far away for me to wrestle him.
Charlie put the shoes I wasn’t keeping back in the trunk of Kirk’s car, and, wearing my new clogs without shame, I took the boys with me through the gate from the compound into the festival grounds.
My feet were still sore from earlier, but I’d be able to walk around the rest of the night without limping.
When Finn showed up later, he was getting the biggest thank you kiss I could manage in public, and then even more when we were alone.
The boys took off toward the food vendors, and I went searching for Zeke. I found him holding court at one of The Forbidden Maple’s tables. He waved me over. “Drake here is the one you need to talk to.” I was back to solving problems Zeke could’ve avoided with a Google Drive.
It only took twenty-five minutes to extricate myself, which I took as a win. The band opening for Failing Moonlight was warming up. I headed in that direction right as my phone chimed.
Unknown Number
Hey, Drake, this is Bastian Hall of Hall of Fame. We’re open to playing the festival tomorrow, but we have some questions. Could you call me?
Yes! Ten minutes later we had a Poppy-level band booked to open for Satyr’s Kiss, who were not quite that popular yet. I spent a gleeful few minutes exchanging texts with Satyr’s Kiss and with Zeke. There were many, many exclamation points.
At last I was able to get back to work, so I started toward the amphitheater again.
“Drake!”
I spun around—briefly marveling at how good my feet felt—to see Alex trotting toward me, his camera in his hand. “Hey! You getting any good shots?”
“Just starting out for the night. There was a thing at City Hall all day, so I couldn’t get here until now.”
I made a face. “You’ll have as long a day as I will.”
“Yeah, but this is the fun part of my job, so I don’t mind. Hey, let me get a picture of you for the website.”
I blinked. “Of me? Why?”