Chapter 29
Angus
The set is wild. Between Rockin’ with Ryleigh’s post and Kirsten sharing it on her socials, the audience is packed when we take the stage at six o’clock. Most of the seats were empty for the five o’clock show, but as we were setting up, I noticed people making their way to the area. Now that we’re on stage, the place is rockin’ and rollin’. People have signs, someone throws a bra on stage, and as we go into “Rough Around the Edges” they start body surfing.
This is always the vibe we’re looking for, and it’s even better because I spot Callum in the wings, a pissed-off look on his face.
Good.
Fucker.
Let him eat his heart out.
Ryleigh, bless her loyal little heart, has already set up an unofficial meet and greet for eight o’clock, hoping to pull as many people away from them as possible. It may not do much since we can’t know how many of her fans are here, but it can’t hurt. And if we can steal even one fan away from Karnal Death, it’s a worthwhile endeavor.
The plan is to bring Kirsten out after our solos. I’ve just finished mine, and Mick is doing his. We have a shorter than usual set tonight so everything is slightly condensed, but the crowd doesn’t seem to notice.
And when Kirsten comes out they lose their collective minds.
To my surprise, Jonny gets out his acoustic guitar—something he rarely does—and sits on a stool next to Kirsten. As the haunting opening chords of the song fill the air, suddenly I see what looks like a million points of light. The fans have their phones out, using the flashlight feature to mimic lighters. It’s always great when it happens, but this is special.
Kirsten and Jonny sing well together, their voices blending seamlessly, like they’ve done this a hundred times, and it’s cool to watch. This tour has been amazing so far, and despite all the personal distractions, sometimes I feel like I have to pinch myself to remember it’s real.
“Who likes a guy who’s rough around the edges?” Jonny asks the crowd when the song is over.
“I sure do!” Kirsten says, playfully fanning herself as she gazes over at Sam, who winks.
“Anyone want Kirsten to do one more with us?” Jonny asks.
The crowd goes wild, and we wind up keeping her on stage for the rest of the set. She’s versatile, quick on her feet, and apparently knows our music, so she has no trouble keeping up, singing background vocals, and flirting with the crowd.
And they love her.
I don’t know how she’s walking away from this for four years to go to college. It seems counterintuitive to walk away from a sure thing, but it’s none of my business. She has to do what’s right for her—God knows, I always do.
The show ends with the crowd continuously chanting our name.
“Crimson-Crimson-Crimson!”
“Fuck yeah!” Mick holds up his fist, and I bump mine against it. “That’s what I love to hear.”
“We went four minutes over—they’re going to fine us,” Jonny says, but he’s grinning.
“Whatever.” Sam shrugs. “Sasha can deduct it from our first royalty checks.”
“Too bad you can’t get that kind of reaction without a gimmick,” Callum sneers, folding his arms across his chest. There’s a condescending smirk on his face just itching to connect with my fist, but I manage to swallow down the urge.
“Honey, be nice.” Taryn gently touches his arm.
“Mind your own business,” he snaps at her.
She shrinks back a little, and I see a flicker of something in Mick’s eyes I can’t quite decipher.
Anger?
Protectiveness?
That’s unlike him, but I don’t have time to worry about it.
“Kirsten, you want to do a song with us tonight?” Callum asks her.
She smiles so sweetly I almost think she’s going to say yes. “Gosh, I would but I have to save my voice. For the headlining show.”
He snorts. “Yeah, whatever. Come on, T.” He tugs Taryn away, and she casts an apologetic look at Ryleigh.
“See you later,” she mouths, and Ryleigh nods.
“Is it wrong that I want to strangle him?” Mick growls under his breath.
“I’ll help you,” Sam mutters.
“Let’s not let him ruin our night,” Kirsten says, wrinkling her nose. “Fuck him.”
“Ew. No.” I shudder slightly and everyone laughs.
“You guys are going to stay for Nobody’s Fool, right?” Kirsten asks, looking at all of us.
“Of course we are.” Sam hugs her to his side. “Wouldn’t miss your last official show of the tour.”
Her face falls for a second. “I really don’t want to leave.”
“Do you have to?” Mick asks quietly.
“I…” She sighs. “I want to give college a shot. I love New York, and my plan has always been to use my time in college to find musicians I may want to work with, write music full-time, and get a degree I can fall back on. I don’t know if that’s going to work out the way I want it to but I want to try.”
“Then you should go,” Ryleigh says, nodding. “You know the bands will welcome you back with open arms if you hate it and want to come back. But you won’t know if you like college or not until you try.”
Kirsten nods. “Exactly.”
“Okay, I need a drink,” Jonny says. “Then I’m going to go watch Foreigner because Karnal Death makes me want to puke.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We all head for the green room.
* * *
Nobody’s Fool plays for close to two hours, earning a hell of a fine, but they don’t care. They play all their hits, Kirsten’s duet, a handful of covers, and then invite Jonny on stage to sing with them. Sam goes out and does a solo with Stu, and then Mick and Tyler do this dueling bass thing that’s as amazing as it is hilarious.
By the time we get back to the hotel we’re tired, hungry, and exhausted, but everyone gathers in the suite Tyler booked for the party. There’s food, endless champagne, and a keg of beer.
The girls are gathered in a corner of the room, drinking champagne and talking, so I figure this might be my chance to talk to Jonny. He looks up in surprise as I approach.
“Hey.” His face is shuttered.
“Can we talk?”
“What about?”
“Can we go outside?” The suite has a balcony, and he follows me reluctantly.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Look, I know I screwed up, and I’m genuinely sorry for lying.”
“But?” He meets my gaze warily.
“Can we ever move past it? Are you going to hate me forever?”
“I don’t hate you. I told you that earlier. You’ll always be my brother. I just don’t trust you anymore. And it’s going to take time to build that up again.”
“That’s fair. But how can we move forward if you’re not talking to me?”
“We’re talking now, aren’t we?”
“You know what I mean. Don’t be an ass.”
“I’ve always been an ass.”
“I’m being serious, man. I miss you.”
He sighs. “I miss you too. But I can’t rush the things I’m feeling. I can’t tell you that I don’t feel betrayed—when I do. I just don’t know how to fake it.”
“I don’t want you to fake it. I just want to work through it. Would it help if I told you a little about my family? The things I dealt with growing up?”
He hesitates but then nods. “Maybe. Yeah. I mean, not tonight, but one of these days.”
“All right. Is there anything else I can do to make it up to you?”
“I don’t know.”
We stare at each other.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement in the shadows over his shoulder and I frown.
“I think we have company,” I murmur.
He glances over his shoulder. “Ben, why are you lurking back there?” he calls out.
“Sorry.” Our bus driver comes out of the shadows with an embarrassed smile. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Nah, we’re done here.” Jonny claps me on the shoulder just as my phone rings.
Christ.
It’s my father.
Just what I need on top of everything else.
“You gonna answer that?” Jonny asks me, arching a brow.
“Must be important if he’s calling this late,” Ben says in a fatherly tone.
They have a point. It’s one in the morning, and my father isn’t the type to call this late unless he has something specific to talk about.
Or if something bad happened.
Worry hits me, and I reluctantly push the button to accept the call.
“Dad?” I put the phone to my ear and turn away from Jonny and Ben. “What’s going on?”
“Son.” He sounds serious as fuck. “Something’s happened.”
Oh, shit.
“What is it?” I ask quietly.
“Your grandfather… he had a stroke this morning and died a little while ago. Can you come home?”