Chapter 23
(Johnny)
“You guys rock!”
“Ohh, ‘Stairway to Heaven!’”
“This is heaven.”
Holy shit, the vibe was crazy but only in the best possible way. We were poolside, at the hotel in Oceanside where the event we’d be performing at tomorrow was hosting one of the best before parties I’d ever attended. These guys had created the kind of vibe I wished someone would bottle because holy shit. There were no lines, no tables and no screaming people shoving things in our faces to be signed. This had the sort of old school hippy vibe that my grandfather and great uncles used to talk about from their days of outdoor festivals. Every chair was full, and folks floated around the pool in large inflatable rafts and chairs with drink holders, heads tipped back, the stars overhead, as we just jammed .
Rebel and Keegan had brought out their acoustics and Jagger and I were singing, but we weren’t singing alone. Hell, we weren’t even singing our own music except occasionally when Rebel or Keegan slipped in a song. We played classic rock, old school grunge, anything folks could sing along to, because they were singing with us, man and it was amazing just to be in the moment, swaying beside Jagger as we broke into “Big Yellow Taxi” right after we finished singing “Signs.”
It didn’t even feel like a performance. We were all just vibing with the music, rolling from one song to the next, passing around the bud and swaying to the beat. Sometimes feet stomped and hands clapped or were patted on knees to the beat of the music, creating a rolling rhythm that just fueled the desire to play more. Security was tight, too, and I knew without needing to turn to look at him that Christine was at my back just like Sully was behind Jagger. Alert and watchful, they still swayed to the music in a way that allowed them to blend into the crowd and oh man, what a crowd we had.
All around me were serene, blissed out faces, heavy-lidded eyes, soft smiles, tranquil expressions. The best part was seeing the way that no one looked uncomfortable, or like they were struggling to have a good time around the anxiety of being in a crowd. It was like there was this undercurrent of magic happening, weaving everyone together for all eternity.
Glancing left, I saw Kit, one of the two drummers who’d been brought in to spell Ozzy while he went back home. After the weekend, one would be sticking around until Ozzy returned and the other would be given a ticket to get them back to where they were from.
He both sang and hummed along, his voice a rich, melodic alto that he wasn’t afraid to share. As I watched, he tipped his head back and sang to the stars on a series of yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, ohhh yeahs, that just added to all of the harmonizing going on.
After Kit had been introduced, he’d hung back from interacting past the first few minutes of his arrival, an act I’d initially mistaken for shyness, until I realized that he was listening and observing as Draven laid out the itinerary for the day, unlike Claude, who’d been busy giving Dash as many details about himself as he could cram into a sentence without taking a breath. I doubted he’d heard even half of the instructions for the day.
To top it off, he’d practically spent the day living in Dash’s back pocket, having latched on to him like a damned barnacle. It wouldn’t be an issue if he was chill about it, shadowing, watching and learning the way Kit was. But the only time his mouth stopped running was when there was music playing, and every god damned time I caught sight of him, it was with a different drink in his hand, which meant Dash had one, too.
At least it wasn’t Rebel, though I could see him getting involved in whatever little drinking contest was going on, if he didn’t have his guitar in his hands. Ultimately, I knew it was up to Ozzy to pick his relief drummer, but I sure as hell hoped it wouldn’t be Claude.
As the song changed, he nudged Dash, then waved a member of the waitstaff over and asked for more drinks. He’d better not turn out to be a rowdy drunk and wreck the vibe we had going, or he and I would have words, as would me and Ozzy.
Glancing to my left, I saw Kit take a toke and reach out to me, now that I had a moment to hit it. He smiled when our eyes met.
“Man, this is a once in a lifetime moment,” he said, voice raised only enough to be heard.
Sure was better than the bellows of hell yeah and right on Claude let out whenever there was a lull. The guy had to have taken at least a hundred selfies, with how often he broke out the camera and leaned against Dash or any of the people who happened to be near enough to him to be captured in the shot.
Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen Kit with his phone in his hands all day.
Now that I thought about it more, it dawned on me that the people around Dash and Claude kept changing. I’d lay Vegas odds that they were switching seats to get the hell away from Claude, despite the fact that the chairs around him were in a prime spot near the fire pit. The night was growing cooler, too. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to give my place to anyone.
I didn’t even know what time it was, just that the stars were beginning to fade, damn.
My eyes sought out Draven’s, and I spotted him leaning against a pillar watching me and nodding along to whatever the event organizer was telling him.
We finished out “‘Round Here” and “3AM,” “A Long December” and “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” the transition between songs having grown so comfortable that the only pauses were to sip drinks, roll shoulders and take the occasional request.
“Three more songs, and then we’ve got to say goodnight,” Jagger said, cutting off the soft grumbles and Claude’s loud, obnoxious boo, by adding, “you guys have been so awesome, hanging out with us tonight, but if we don’t get some rest before tomorrow’s show, we’re not gonna be awesome, but we will be in the doghouse.”
And just like that the grumbles turned to giggles and laughter as everyone settled in for the final three tunes.
With no set list and no set plan, I waited to see how Keegan and Rebel intended to bring things to a close, and they didn’t disappoint in their song choices.
“Comfortably Numb” had always been a favorite, and everyone seemed to know the words or at least enough of it to join the chorus and hum though the verses. “Rollin’ Stoned” was another crowd pleaser and leave it to Rebel to finish with “Simple Man,” it was such a statement piece for him.
As the final echoes of the song faded, I leaned against Jagger and Keegan slung one of those long arms around us both and hugged us.
“Let’s wait for security to thin the crowd a little before we start moving,” Christine said.
She was standing now, one hand on my shoulder, the same way Zyon had a hand on Keegan’s and Jett had one on Rebel. Steel stood ever watchful at Jagger’s side while Sully was right there, watching every little thing that went on as people began to disperse.
Only when it was down to the band members did we stand, Claude and Dash lingering, engaged in a steady stream of conversation as the rest of us started moving.
“Hey, Dash, better get a move on before you’re chugging energy drinks all day tomorrow,” I called out, hoping to prompt him into action.
“Gonna have to do that already,” Dash replied, words a little slurred, but not too bad.
They were still slurred enough that I was glad the night was through because I knew him and I knew he was already going to have one hell of a headache in the morning.
“There’ll be time enough to sleep when we’re dead,” Claude replied, quoting one of the lines from an earlier song we’d song.
While I appreciated the sentiment, he didn’t know Dash the way I knew Dash and Dash required at least six hours of sleep or we’d have one grumpy bassist on our hands.
“I can’t tap out now,” Dash said, lifting his empty bottle. “We’re still tied.”
“And you can stay tied until tomorrow,” I suggested, as a tiny voice in the back of my head giggled.
Okay, fair, it was kinda funny that Johnny ‘life of the party’ Amaral was telling someone else when to shut shit down, but that brush I’d had with the law had been more than enough to teach me the importance of moderation.
“Meh, what’s the fun in that?” Claude grumbled.
“How many drinks behind am I?” Rebel asked, perking up a bit from where he’d been slumped in his chair.
Great, lovely, Claude was really starting to piss me off now.
“Too many to catch up,” Draven declared, using his voice instead of his device.
From the look on his face, he was about as thrilled with Claude as I was.
“Night’s over, for everyone,” Draven declared. “ No ifs, ands, or tie breakers.”
Dash and Rebel, who were rooming together, immediately nodded, and turned to head for the walkway leading to their suite.
“And no in room shenanigans, either,” Draven called after them. I could tell that it taxed his voice to do so, with the way he winced, but they clearly heard him.
“Nothing but water and green tea for the rest of the night,” Rebel declared.
“Thank you,” Draven replied.
I knew Rebel would keep to it, too, and make sure that Dash did as well. He was good that way. His declaration was as good as a promise, not that Claude liked hearing it. The man looked like he’d just sucked on a lemon, and I could just tell he was itching to say some shit, at which point, there were plenty of things I was itching to say right back.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ozzy heading his way, which was likely the only thing that got Claude to finally nod and scurry for the room he was sharing with Kit before Ozzy was forced to check him.
As for Kit, he was holding a bottle of water, looking sleepy eyed as he waited patiently for Sully to finish speaking to his guards. Kit looked as blissed out exhausted as I felt, and man, I couldn’t wait to take a shower and cuddle up beside Draven.
The sky was actually beginning to brighten some as we left the poolside area and headed down the path to the building we were staying in. The place was a literal resort and the rooms, let’s just say they’d hooked us up with a space that had a couch, a kitchenette and a giant ass king-sized bed that I couldn’t wait to pass out in.
My brain was focused on soft, soft, soft as I walked with Draven’s arm around me. He even had the key card out and ready so I wouldn’t have to remember which pocket I’d put mine in.
“Almost there,” Draven murmured in my ear.
He carded us into the building, which was an amazing security feature. Leaning against him as we took the elevator up, I groaned, sighed, and pressed my head against his shoulder.
“Man, that was fuckin’ mystical,” I murmured. “Time just sort of melted and slipped away. The only downer of the whole damn day was Claude. I hope like hell Ozzy doesn’t pick him.”
“He won’t,” Draven said. “You didn’t see his face, but I did. He’s pissed. By the time tomorrow is over, Claude will be a distant memory.”
“I love it when the universe smiles on me.”
Chuckling, he led me into the room and straight to the bathroom, where the bed and the shower started to seem so far apart that the thought of sleeping in the tub popped into my head and began putting down roots .
“You just lean right here,” Draven said, propping me against the sink. “And let me get the water going.”
“Can’t I just crash in the tub and worry about a shower in the morning?” I grumbled.
“Nope. Here,” he said as he passed me a makeup wipe. “See if you can get your eyeliner off.”
I did as I was told, clumsily scrubbing at my eyes until he took the wipe back and finished wiping them.
“All right now, arms up.”
I did as I was told, glad it was just the two of us and a shower stall that muffled enough of the sound that he didn’t need to use his device to be heard.
“You might not have noticed that they were live streaming the whole thing,” he said as he pulled the shirt off over my head before cupping my cheek and stroking it. “We’ve already received five requests to play different venues, and those are just the ones I dealt with while you guys were playing. Talk about an experience, you guys truly gave the fans ones they aren’t likely to forget anytime soon.”
“Sweet.”
“Yup.”
He kissed the top of my nose, unbuttoned my jeans, and peeled them off me while I used the counter to hold myself up.
“You always light up a room,” Draven murmured as I lifted one foot so he could tug the jeans free. “But tonight, it was like you were this otherworldly being. I’m just glad I was here to see it.”
“I’m grateful I was here to take part,” I admitted. “The whole night was magic.”
He freed my other foot, and I stood naked on cold tile, once he removed my final sock. Fortunately, my underwear had been peeled off with my jeans, so there was nothing left but to follow him beneath the warm spray and allow him to wash me quick, but thoroughly.
Somehow, he even managed to keep my hair from getting too wet. I hated going to sleep with wet hair. It always left the pillow damp, even in the morning. In this case, it was already morning and I intended to sleep a good eight hours, maybe even nine, since we weren’t even doing sound check until eight tonight. Food I wasn’t even awake enough to give a shit about, though I knew I’d be ravenous by the time I woke.
Drifting, I let him dry me off and lead me to the bed that I fell face first across, the softness rising up to welcome me. The last thing I heard, before the lull of sleep pulled me under, was him chuckling in my ear and murmuring, “I guess we’re sleeping sideways.”