Chapter 47 An Inevitable Encore
AN INEVITABLE ENCORE
DECLAN
“You sure you wanna do this?”
Ren has already asked me this question at least a dozen times since I first mentioned my amazing idea at the beginning of this concert. He’s staring at me, his expression that of a friend long used to humoring his sometimes-impulsive brother.
Smiling broadly, I nod, slapping him on the back. The curtain opens, I motion for him to go first which he does, though outwardly begrudgingly. I follow close behind, chuckling to myself as the roar of the crowd immediately dies off once they recognize that I’m not alone on stage.
Ren stopped a few feet away from the curtain, so I give him a nudge, maneuvering him close to the edge where my mic is still in the stand. The crowd is picking back up in enthusiasm, knowing that my earlier promise of a special surprise is about to commence.
“Y’all know my buddy, Ren, right?” I ask and then laugh, adding, “Of course, you do. Everyone knows Rennick Rafferty.”
Everyone cheers, always excited when I segue into some kind of off-the-wall storytelling segment. I am a lot of things, but one thing I am not, is boring.
“He saved my life once.” The crowd oohs and aahs, so I nod. “That’s right. Many years ago I got myself into a bad situation and Ren showed up and saved my fucking ass.”
“Were you wasted?” A fan shouts from the back of the crowd.
I make a face, lift my hand, wave it side-to-side. “Maybe, but not so wasted that I didn’t know what was going to happen.”
“Come on,” another voice from the crowd shouts. “Tell us the story.”
I chuckle, placing my foot on top of a speaker and leaning forward, my arms braced on the top of my thigh. “Oooh, that’s right. You all do love a good story time.”
The crowd goes into a frenzy and I let them scream it out for a moment before raising my hand in the air.
They quiet down quickly and I wait a bit, trying to decide how much of the story I want to tell.
The smart choice would have been not bringing it up at all, but since this is entirely relevant to where this encore is going, I may as well be a dumb fucker and use it to bring my point home.
Turning to Ren, I move the mic away and ask, “You mind if I tell ‘em?”
“Why would I mind?”
I shrug. “I know you’ve been asked in interviews about how we met and always refused to answer. Figured it was only polite I ask.”
“It wasn’t my story to tell, Dec,” he responds quietly, his gaze somber. “You’re welcome to tell it as you wish.”
I turn back to the crowd, one hand in the air as I bring the mic back to my lips.
“I gotta warn you all, the story you’re about to hear may be triggering.
It’ll take a few minutes to get to the gnarly parts, so I caution you that if you’re triggered by drugs or potentially criminal behavior you’ll want to depart now. ”
I wait a moment, watching the shift as a few people make a beeline for the exit, then I wave to my stage crew who have been waiting in the wings.
They scurry out, carrying a couple chairs, a table, a pitcher and two glasses.
A huge potted palm tree that I knew would be ostentatious but also made me laugh.
They set it all up in the middle of the stage as planned and then I motion to Ren, who’s giving me a look of annoyance that can only be shared between brothers. Blood-related or otherwise.
“Seriously, man,” Ren mutters as he slowly seats himself. “You gotta make a show out of everything?”
“Hey, if I’m going to use my life experiences as a cautionary tale to others, then I may as well do it in style.”
He shakes his head and sits back as one of my people attach a mic to the collar of his shirt. They do the same for me, and then I wait for everyone to disappear into the shadows, the spotlight centering on my comfortable little setup.
“Is there something you want to tell me, Dec?” Ren drawls, his amused gaze focused on me.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You wanna branch out into talkshows or some kind of interview host?”
I laugh then shrug. “I mean, that is not my intention here, but never say never, right?”
He rolls his eyes, the audience claps, an occasional laugh and whistle.
I turn my attention back to the crowd, waiting for them to quiet before stating, “I only remember so much of what I’m about to tell you, which is why I need to Ren here to fill in the blanks because even though he has explained it to me many times, it’s more authentic coming from the person who remembers it firsthand,” I pause, turn to Ren and add, “You good with that?”
“Whatever you want, Dec. It’s your story.”
I nod, sighing as I sit back in my chair, suddenly feeling painfully serious. The audience must sense it because an eerie hush falls over them, extending into seconds as they wait for me to speak.
“Many years ago,” I begin, enjoying the hush that falls over the room.
“Per usual, I was out on a random bender and ended up hanging out with a group of strangers. Now, to be clear, these strangers weren’t what anyone would consider questionable at a glance, and this wasn’t some dive bar in a dangerous part of town.
If anything, most people would consider them to be fine upstanding citizens in their business wear, and this swanky hotel bar was frequented by the elite of the elite in Los Angeles. ”
Ren snorts beside me then says, “Sadly, demons don’t wear their horns out in public.”
The crowd hoots and stomps, and I nod, wait for them to hush before stating, “That’s for sure, and not something any of us hotheaded twenty somethings would’ve believed back then.”
“Anyway,” I go on, once again peering out at the crowd.
“At some point in the night I realized something wasn’t right.
I started to feel off, at least far more off than I should have given the amount I’d drank.
I tried to call for a ride, but I couldn’t find my phone.
I asked these strangers for help, and they laughed it off, called me a lightweight. ”
I look to Ren who leans forward in his chair. “And that’s when I showed up,” he pauses, looks to me with a far off pained expression as he adds, “I was seated at the table next to them. I noticed you looked out of it, which isn’t an unusual sight, but this time it was different.”
“Different how?”
“The glazed over disconnect without being truly passed out. The whites of your eyes spoke what your lips could not. Fear.”
I frown then ask, “And how did you know this wasn’t right? It’s not like me being fucked up in public wasn’t a relatively normal occurrence at that point in my life.”
“Because it happened to me shortly before this, so the onward signs were prevalent in my mind.”
The crowd gasps and I find myself staring at him in horror. It’s bad enough when shitty things happen to you, but to then hear the same thing happened to someone you’re close to, slaps you in the face even harder.
“Wait,” I respond with an uneasy laugh. “What?”
Ren sighs heavily, shakes his head. “I still have no idea what exactly happened, but I was fortunate that I had my buddy Dave with me. He immediately noticed when things shifted and got me out of there.”
“Do you know who…” I let my question drift off, watching the kaleidoscope of emotions on his face as responds, “We had our suspicions, but we couldn’t prove it.”
“But you’re sure that’s what happened?”
Ren levels me with sardonic look, presses his lips together before responding, “Yeah. Dave took video and everything. That’s how I knew something wasn’t right with you.
And the fact the people who were with you acted like it was just normal was a huge red flag, but then I heard them talking, and I knew. ”
A chill runs down my spine. “What were they saying?”
“I couldn’t make out all of it, just the odd phrase here that no matter how I tried to rationalize, didn’t sound right,” he pauses, his eyes staring off into nothing. “Break him. Keep him useful. Get a high price,” he pauses, his expression twisting slight before adding, “Limitless resale value.”
He drifts off then blinks, turns his focus back to me. “Do you remember anything?”
“I remember how things felt,” I respond honestly. “The sounds. The smells. And then nothing.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he states then turns his attention back to the audience who’s standing there, silent, waiting.
“I waited for them to leave because I needed to know what I thought I heard and what they did was the same. So, when they immediately headed toward the elevator, half-carrying, half-dragging him because he’s just a big ass guy, I knew I had to intervene.
I knew, without a doubt, that I could not let him disappear onto that elevator with those people. ”
He turns his attention back to me, his eyes locking with mine.
“I caught them just as the door was closing. You were being held up between two big guys who were not seated at the table, so they must’ve been waiting in the lobby.
I just managed,” He pauses, his hand coming out in front of him as he continues, “to shove my hand between the closing doors, and the look of surprise on their faces when they saw me was all alarm bells. Panic and fury.”
“What did you tell them?” I ask, my voice a whisper.
“I pretended to be your brother. Thanked them profusely for looking out for you. Told them I’d take it from here.”
“And they just went along with it?”
“One of them started to argue, but I took out my cellphone, took a bunch of pictures and pretended I was putting them online right then and there as proof of how messy you were,” he stops talking abruptly, his throat working as he swallows repeatedly.
Then he laughs, a harsh bark of sound cuts through the air, before saying, “It was an impulsive move, but thinking back about it now, I’m sure that’s what saved both of us. ”
“You think they would’ve tried to get you, too?”