Chapter 14
(Draven)
While the official start of the tour would be Seattle, we’d decided to do a soft launch at the place where it had all begun for us. Portland. Our steak dinner had left us so stuffed that we’d lingered, sipping coffee and listening to the band, especially after we’d topped it off with chocolate lava cakes heaped with fresh churned vanilla ice cream. Real fuckin’ vanilla, too, with vanilla bean specks in it and so much flavor I’d wished Johnny had been there to kiss it off me ‘cause he’d have never stopped. Instead of going back to speak with management about a potential booking somewhere down the line, management had come to me, asking if the whole band was in town and if we were available for Friday night because he was in a serious bind after the band he’d had booked had imploded and canceled.
It was an easy yes, especially after the way they’d given us the opportunity to be heard. Now here we were, with Blissfully Immune minutes away from taking the stage to warm up the crowd. As much as I loved seeing my own boys up there, rocking it out with songs I’d had a hand in creating, it always felt like a privilege to see Johnny perform. Fridays and Saturdays always featured harder rock with a sprinkle of grunge, and we had a packed house of flannel and leather-wearing patrons to prove it. I could barely make out the band in the low light of the stage, the blue tones giving the impression of ghosts as they took their places. Johnny and Rebel shared a fist bump, then Johnny lowered his head as Ozzy tapped out the opening beat. Rebel’s guitar roared to life, Dash joined in on bass, then Johnny growled and holy shit, the room exploded.
Leave it to my badass boyfriend to launch into one of the grittiest songs they had.
Goosebumps cropped up along my arms and every nerve ending tingled, causing a shiver down my spine that nearly sent me to my knees. Then I glanced over to see Jagger, leaning against the opposite wall with a cocky smirk and devil may care attitude, waiting for the second song, when they planned to truly blow the roof of the case when Jagger joined him for “Walking Rage.” Half the people at the tables had food in front of them that they’d completely forgotten about, and full steins of beer they lifted and greedily drank from. Just to the left of the stage a girl was using her knife and fork to drum along with Ozzy, while the pink-haired girl seated across from her played air guitar. Johnny had them eating out of his hands as he strutted across the stage, banging his head and snarling as he growled out the words.
I can make your whole fuckin’ world disappear
I can make your whole fuckin’ world disappear
Every thrill, every dream, every fear
Down to the last fuckin’ thing you hold dear
I can make your whole fuckin’ world disappear
Was gonna be a hell of a tour if this was how Johnny intended to play it. I was just glad I got to be behind the scenes to see it all unfold.
And make it possible.
Damn, now that was an amazing feeling, too.
Pride filled me as I watched him launch us on this amazing journey we were kickstarting together. That all of them would put their faith in me to make this happen was humbling, exhilarating, hell, it was the greatest feeling in the world.
Halfway through the set my phone started vibrating and I had to step away so I could take the call. It felt odd having a shadow at my back, but I knew I’d get used to having Christine with me wherever I went. Out back, on the other side of the service entrance we’d used to load in, was a private space they’d set up for the talent a long time ago. Steel was guarding it, but stepped aside so I could go in, my ears still ringing from the show as I sat to see who the hell was blowing up my phone. Christine took up a position along the far wall and leaned, sipping from a bottle of water.
Turned out it was several people trying to get ahold of me.
Holy shit, someone was live streaming the show and the result was that three promoters I’d reached out to more than a week ago were suddenly eager to give a range of dates they had available. Damn right they wanted us.
As much as I wanted to go back in and listen to the rest of the show, I wasn’t a fan or a roadie, my job was to get my guys paid, so I immediately pulled up the schedule I already had laid out to where things would line up. Boston and Worchester we could play one after the next with a good two-day rest between shows. That was home territory for Blissfully Immune so they’d headline there the way we would when we played Bangor and Lewiston.
Two other promoters hit me up for dates before I finished working on the first three, and an email came in from a club I didn’t recognize. They’d need vetting, which was something I couldn’t do from here. I was just about to head back in when the phone vibrated again and I checked the time. Damaged Saints would be taking the stage any minute, and Johnny would be jumping up there with Jagger to do the song they’d written together. I was not missing that.
Okay, this wasn’t a venue, it was a guy claiming to have gotten my card from Rebel at Rocktoberfest. They were looking for a manager. What the hell? What made Rebel think that would be a good idea? The message was long, so I read a little more, squinting at the tiny fuckin’ icon photo, but I couldn’t tell whose face that was framed by a mop of blond hair. He looked familiar, though.
Holy fuckballs, how long was this message?
Whoever the fuck it was, they’d sure had a run of back luck lately, and seen the need to lay out everything in detail before telling me who the fuck they were. Screamin’ Demon told me nothing about who was behind the screenname, but before I could reach the end of what turned out to be a string of messages, my bandmates burst through the door and I had a moment to realize I’d lost the chance to see Jagger and Johnny debut their song before a live audience before I wound up with my arms filled with a sweaty, laughing Johnny.
“They are kicking ass up there!” Johnny whooped as he climbed me like a spider monkey.
“No doubt, I’d expect nothing less. How’d the new song go?” I struggled to type around Johnny, letting my device speak for me over the restless energy, high fives and backslaps that filled the room .
“Dude, they slayed it!” Rebel declared, fist bumping Ozzy who winced and started rubbing his hand.
“You good?” I typed over Johnny’s shoulder.
“Yeah, man, just stiff from clutchin’ those sticks.”
“He pulled off the solo of a lifetime tonight, man, I can’t believe you missed it,” Dash declared.
“The drawbacks to being your manager,” I typed, having to finally put Johnny down after kissing him soundly. “I was back here lining up a few more shows. We got Boston and Worchester for the summer, just like you guys wanted, then we’re heading north to play festivals in Vermont and Maine. Still no word on a Quebec finale but I’m working on it, I know you guys have been dying to do a show up there and I will make it happen if it’s at all possible.”
“We know you will, man,” Rebel said. “That’s still ten months away. I ain’t even worried.”
“None of us are,” Ozzy said. “We’re just livin’ in the now.”
“Someone live streamed tonight,” I typed. “That’s what tipped the scales and got people to finally hit me back after that email blast I sent. Our fans are making this happen for us.”
“Then we’ll have to come up with the best way we can to thank them,” Dash said as he stalked past me to snag a water from a tray brimming with ice and an assortment of drinks. Ozzy was already munching on a pile of onion rings while Rebel lifted the lid on the warming tray to reveal the ribeye sandwiches and au jus sauce the kitchen had provided us. The moment the scent hit me, my stomach growled, but I still had work I needed to do before I grabbed something. We were slated to hit the road in the morning, but before that my guys had a signing to prepare for which meant that I needed to make sure our roadies had the merch table set up.
I caught Christine’s eye and inclined my head toward the door and she nodded, falling in beside me as I headed back inside to the sound of Jagger singing the first song he’d ever sung for us. Back then, he’d been desperate to sound just like me. Now he put his own stank on it and it was amazing. Lingering, I listened until the song was finished before I headed on to the room where the signing would be held.
Damage Control had already secured it, our roadie crew had everything laid out and there was water on the table in front of every chair, along with the stacks of photos for the band members to sign. Five sharpies in bright colors waited at every band member’s seat, and I knew they’d all work fine, since the guys in the crew were constantly checking them before they laid them out. That’s why I’d handpicked the crew.
So, what had I been in such a hurry to check on?
Chuckling to myself, I walked through the room anyway, though there wasn’t a need. I’d taken careful steps to prevent fuckups, which had included hiring a head roadie to oversee every move. Like Damage Control they knew their jobs and they were good at it, but like Sully said, it would take time before trust could be established. I just needed to be kinder to myself, give myself a break when I started rushing around worrying about things not getting done. The past had shown me what happened when management didn’t keep a firm handle on every aspect of the things going on with their bands.
The other reason I was so restless tonight and desperate for everything to run perfectly was for Johnny. As a group, we’d agreed to no after parties tonight and no going out and getting into anything that could potentially wind up in the media. We weren’t drinking, we weren’t clubbing, and we sure as hell weren’t trolling for hookups after we got done here. It was straight back to the hotel and onto the buses in the morning, with three radio station appearances slated throughout the day. Not only had one of the biggest grunge-alternative stations invited us to come on, but DJ Shayne had agreed to do an interview with Johnny, to give him the opportunity to speak about the accident and give his side of the story.
I hoped it would help his situation, since so far, the lines had remained silent on the whole reward situation, at least according to his lawyer when Johnny had touched base with him earlier in the day, just after he’d finished doing a video chat interview with a reporter from back home. When I’d asked him how it had gone, he’d just said, we’ll see and headed past me to our room to lay out his clothes for the night. At least he wasn’t shutting me out.
A hand up my back jerked me out of my thoughts, and I blinked to see Johnny grinning up at me with that impish smile as he cocked his hip and flicked his tongue out at me.
“You better have been thinking about me,” he murmured as he tugged me in for a kiss.
“I was.”
Winking, he headed for his chair, while I slipped out with Christine before it became impossible, and it was a good thing, too. The line in the hall had already grown long enough to stretch behind the kitchen and from some of the outfits I saw, I fully expected a few of the band members to be asked to sign in some unconventional places.
Thus was the life of a rockstar.
I’d seen more tits and more asses in my days as frontman than I’d ever seen in a BDSM club. Signed more than my fair share, too. One girl had shared a photo on social media of the tattoo she’d gotten immediately after an event, where she’d had them ink over my signature, permanently etching it on her hip along with the chorus to “Drowning in Amber,” one of the songs I’d sung that night. I gotta admit, it was pretty original, especially when the poster had revealed that Amber was her name.
See, that was the thing I’d always loved about music. The connection. The way people could approach a song a hundred different ways. Words resonated, the tone, the cadence, but also the way they were put together and the messages they sent. We’d written the first pieces of that song while watching Jurassic Park for the millionth time, that part about extracting the DNA from creatures trapped in the sap of trees having sparked Keegan to start scribbling. At first, we’d all thought he was just fucking around, putting together another silly piece to amuse us with, the way he tended to do when he was bored. Robbie had even asked why he’d bothered to put on the movie if he wasn’t going to watch it, but when he’d reached for the remote to find a different movie to stream, Keegan had thrown a pillow at his head and told him to leave it be, then he’d kept on scribbling.
Caught in a slow-moving slide
Unable to dance free of the storm
We wait to drown as the tide keeps rising
Unable to shield ourselves from the burning dawn
We watch the hail of fire
Shouting warnings that will never be heard
The slow tick of minutes morph into hours
As the world turns from smoke to as h
While we’re trapped drowning in amber
Waiting for the future to learn from the past.
It needed to. And we’d all stopped giving him shit about what he was working on after he’d shared that. Hell, the movie had faded into background noise as we’d stared working on lines of our own to add, images forming, not just out of what was taking place on the screen, but the things we’d seen in our news feeds. Cities burning while the government held people paralyzed with threats and fear, warning them against helping their neighbors and anyone else who didn’t fit with their plans for the perfect community.
But wasn’t that what community was supposed to be about? A collection of people, stories, history, culture, all coming together to learn about one another and make their tiny slice of the world a place where everyone had space to belong and something to contribute. Hadn’t they ever wondered how badly they wrecked the places they lived, when they started legislating who could live there and who could take part in the dream? Maybe if they took a moment to really see what people could accomplish when they worked together, pooling their strengths for a common goal, they’d realize that when you take away jobs, when you stomped out dreams, when you removed art and music and shop from the schools and kept kids who might not have been good with books and tests from accessing the things that they could excel at, was when communities and cities fell apart. That’s when people turned against one another and to unhealthy means of coping. Because they were drowning in the sap of the tree of life, waiting for someone to extend a hand to pull them out.