Chapter 36 #3
I suck in the strongest inhale and exhale the stupid stress stuck in my solar plexus.
He spreads the blood all over his arms, chest, and hair?
No way! An enormous tarantula the size of a Volkswagen drops down from above the stage, and the fans scream so loud it would make anyone who didn’t grow up around rock ‘n roll’s ears bleed.
My jaw drops as the giant spider descends to my man, and he climbs onto its back and rides over the crowd like he’s living some sort of goth pop star’s sick fantasy.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” Mum yells over the roar. “Just like Jett! I love it!”
I grab her arm and grin up at the hottest psycho I’ve ever seen, the way he’s screaming the chorus as if he’s just doing business as usual.
Insane. He has never put on this kind of spectacle and never played for this many people.
My heart starts to burst for him, and then suddenly my heart shoots up into my throat, and I choke on it.
The massive spider lurches and drops about ten feet lower, midair, and Jett flies up, totally airborne, before landing with a thud that rattles the whole contraption. He has to grip onto it for dear life, literally.
My mum screams, and Dad looks like he may have experienced a mild to moderate heart attack. “Fuck!” He looks so rattled that cousin Britta steps in to check both of them out.
With my aortic valve now fully lodged in my esophagus, I can’t say anything even if I wanted to.
The stage crew desperately scrambles to pull the spider back to the stage, while Jett just rattles the rafters, yelling in his mic like he meant to do that, “rock ‘n fucking ROLL, Baby! Happy Halloween Eve, my creepy babies. Scream if you’ve realised I’m completely mental and it’s okay for you to be, too.
” The crowd gives off a deafening agreement.
“Good! Coz a malfunctioning arachnid isn’t going to stop me! No one can!”
My family has finally emotionally recovered when Jett starts playing one of his hardest rock songs, Jaded Lies.
Kennedy and Silas start itching to mosh in the pit and we let them, what the hell.
Jett gets the pair swept onto the stage and asks Silas to sing the chorus with him and Kennedy to play the solo.
You did it for me, you looked into my eyes. You shoved it down my throat, you and your jaded lies.
I watch my sister watching Kennedy, and her grey eyes glow an almost lavender shade with sparks practically flying from them, and I smile up at the stage, knowing those two will be the closest brother-in-laws.
Mickie looks up at Silas like he’s a golden god, because he is, despite being a little pitchy.
At the end of the song, huge showers of sparks erupt from either side of the stage, at least thirty feet in the air, and the audience goes bananas. The flames practically lick at our eyebrows, and my hands fly up to make sure they’re not singed. And how flammable is this wig?
The slow, haunting opening to my dad’s hit from way before I was born, Lightning Storm, begins, and all eyes are suddenly on Dad. He sighs and rubs his green chin. “That cheeky little shit.”
“Are you going up, Dad?” Jude asks, right as Jett drops to his knees downstage, closest to us. He blows me kisses before locking eyes with our ageing rock god.
“Please, Dad?” Jett pleads into his mic, and the fans scream, yell, clap, and stomp for our monstrous patriarch. Jett slaps the stage with both hands and starts the whole stadium chanting, “Max-well! Max-well! Max-well!”
And he calls me a brat?
Mum lets out a huff, frustrated at him for not giving my dad any notice.
But Dad rises from his seat, and of course, the cameras catch this for the entire arena to see.
Everyone is shrieking and shaking, and I catch Dad’s lips curling up at the corners as Jett’s security runs over to guide him up to the stage.
Above the roar, Jett and Dad embrace, and they are a sight to behold, Frankenstein junior and his ageing monster. Green paint gets on Jett, and fake blood gets on Dad, and every phone camera in the arena is aimed at them.
Feel the power, a monstrous hand
Reachin’ down to sear the land
The world is shaking, trembling low
The Gods are calling you to their hellish show!
They are absolutely screaming into the mic and the room rumbles like a thunderstorm. It’s electric, it’s a perfect rock harmony, it’s my heart being completely, bursting full.
My mum wraps an arm around me and comments about never being able to stay mad at Jett, and I wholeheartedly agree. She shakes her head. “They’re the same fucking person.”
It’s difficult, but I peel my eyes off them for a second. “Mum, doesn’t that make me a deranged freak?”
She laughs. “I think if your dad were an evil asshole, it would, but come on, look at them. They’re perfectly imperfect, they’re just …
otherworldly. You know how lucky we are, Baby?
” She snaps a selfie of us with our men absolutely killing it on stage behind us, and I glow knowing exactly how lucky I feel right now.