Chapter 17
The audience at the Brown County Arena is humongous compared to their last few shows.
Green Bay has a population that’s about five times larger than each of the last three cities they were at, and it’s in Wisconsin: a state that’s only ever heard their music on the radio or on vinyl, never having had the blessing of the Brooms’ live presence.
Now with them starting their touring career, this is only a small taste of what’s to come.
If Gene thinks this crowd is large, imagine playing in New York, Texas, or even California.
Sure, the crowds in Detroit are pretty large too, but it just feels different when stepping away from their home turf.
A slap of reality right in front of his face showcasing how big the Brooms are getting.
However, Gene still feels awkward being next to Ray.
He stands similarly to how he did at their last show, strumming the rhythm off to the side, only coming up to the mic when needed for a harmony, but otherwise staying back closer to Pat and Stefan.
He’s glad Santiago is still enjoying himself, standing close to the edge of the stage, wailing solos on his Les Paul and riling up the audience.
He looks at Gene with a smile. They pass the rhythm back and forth, weaving their guitar melodies together.
Gene lets the music guide him. Despite the cheers and applause coming from all directions, that’s not what drives him.
His ears key in on the music itself, the beat, the rhythm—he closes his eyes.
He floats along with the tune, standing up on the stage, not even thinking.
He only feels. He’s up here, simply existing.
Of course, those feelings get rocked and stirred when he sings with Ray.
He can’t help it—it’s part of who he is.
It’s a wonderful feeling, being so close to him, but something strange still nags at him from the back of his mind.
When the instrumental follows, he steps away, falling back into the safety of the rhythm. Music will never let me down.
When the show is over and the Brooms have retreated back to the Holiday Inn, some of their party go to hang out in the main floor bar.
Maurice invites Gene to have a drink with him, and Gene obliges, much to his delight.
Gene would’ve loved to hang out by the pool, but again, as with every hotel or motel they’ve stayed at, the goddamn pool is outdoors.
Nice during the summer, but that doesn’t help me now when it’s so fucking cold out.
Looking from his barstool seat through the threshold into the lobby, he catches Santi, Pat, Ray, and Carol heading straight to the stairs that lead to their rooms, with Santi in particular almost in a hurry. That’s strange.
But what’s also strange is how Maurice eyes them all, too.
He smirks, chuckling to himself while he tosses back his drink—almost as if he’s in on something.
Something I don’t know about. There’s likely been plenty of opportunities for Maurice to have discussed something with the others without Gene knowing.
Especially so, since during most of their downtime this past week, Gene has been holed up by himself, alone in whatever hotel room, practicing riffs on his acoustic guitar.
It feels strange playing alone when he was so used to Ray’s company.
He had hoped he could’ve been spending more time with Ray, writing new songs, singing with him, but…
“You feeling alright, Gene?” Maurice asks.
Gene shrugs. “I guess. Honestly, I feel really sticky after the show. Too sweaty. Like I need a shower.” He chuckles, finishing off his drink.
“That’s fair,” Maurice chuckles as well. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to head up soon, anyway.”
Gene raises a curious brow. “You were, were you?”
“Well…” Maurice pouts, swiveling on his rotating stool. “Yeah. Might as well get a good night in and not party too hard when tomorrow night’s Halloween, right?”
“I guess so,” Gene says. “Why come down here then, when I think we have alcohol in the room?”
“Well, we don’t have the lemon juice to make the whiskey sours you like. And you can get that here.”
“True, true.” Something else is up, though. I know it. “Whatever. Thanks still for hanging out with me. I’ll meet you in the room later, whenever you’re done?” Gene’s done with his drink, but Maurice still has about half left in his glass.
“Uh… yeah. I’ll see you later.” Maurice smiles, albeit with a shrug.
Strange.
Gene adjusts his blazer as he gets off his stool, heading off toward the stairs. Once at the second floor, he walks down the hallway toward the room he’s been sharing with Maurice and Dennis. He digs out his key, puts it in the lock, turns it, then opens the door—
“Surprise!”
Santiago is standing tall inside the room, throwing his arms out, with a huge grin plastered on his face.
“Santi, what the hell are you doing in here?”
“Maurice lent me his key. I needed to get things all settled before you showed up. Thought it would be funny if I surprised you.”
Gene frowns, looking up at Santi’s face. “Yeah, yeah, real funny. What do you mean ‘all settled’?”
“Had to switch some people around last minute. You see—you’re not staying in here tonight. I am.”
Things just got even stranger. “What the fuck? Then, where am I staying?”
“With Ray, in his room.”
He answers as if it’s just that easy.
“Woah, woah, woah. Really? What about Carol?” Gene asks.
“She’s staying with Pat tonight.”
“With Pat, huh…” So they really have been plotting something behind my back. “And Ray’s in on this, too?”
“Nope.” Santiago grins wide, showing his teeth. “He had no idea until just a few minutes ago. I’m the mastermind behind all this.”
“Of course.” Gene can’t help but chuckle, rolling his eyes. “How did Carol take it? Having to stay in a room without Ray?”
“She seemed a little upset at first, but ultimately agreed with it when I told her the reason behind it all.”
“That reason being…?”
“So you and Ray can talk to each other privately and make up.”
Gene’s jaw drops. “Make up?”
“Yeah! Don’t think I haven’t noticed you two avoiding each other. It’s pretty fucking obvious when you aren’t even trying to room together anymore. So, I thought I would fix that. Someone needed to tell you guys to get your shit together.”
“Oh, you sneaky little devil, you.” Gene shakes his head with a laugh. “Alright. Whatever. Is Ray in his room, then?”
“Yup. Told him to wait to do anything like take a shower until you got there, so you two could meet face-to-face. Alright then! Get along, now!” He waves his hand in a shooing motion.
“Fine, fine.” Gene laughs as he heads down the hallway, toward the room he knows is Ray’s.
Stopping in front of the door, he hesitates before he knocks.
He hasn’t properly talked to Ray in almost a week.
They’ve maybe said ‘hi’ here and there, and of course they’ve sang together for the shows, but that’s not the same as having an actual conversation.
The closest they came to one was last week, when they held hands on the bus.
But even then they didn’t speak much, Gene merely wanting to bask in the warmth that was Ray’s touch.
It was such a simple thing—holding his hand—yet for some reason, it had an impact on Gene. Honestly, he’d love to do it again.
And maybe more…
He slaps that last thought away.
And so, he knocks.
He hears the lock jingle, and then the doorknob turns.
Opening the door is Ray, still wearing the same clothes he wore on stage.
There’s a silver necklace hanging on his chest, draping down into the V of his open button-up shirt, highlighting his sweaty chest. He’s also got on some incredibly tight striped slacks, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Gene makes sure to keep his gaze on Ray’s face, easy as he’s the same height as himself, and he notices Ray’s cheeks flush red.
“Um, h-hey, Gene,” he says with a sheepish smile.
“Hey, Ray.” He gives a small smile as well. “May I come in?”
“Yeah, sure.” He opens the door wider, letting Gene in, and Gene shuts the door behind himself, kicking off his boots.
The room itself is rather cozy, with green flower-patterned wallpaper, plush, orange shag carpet that feels rather nice on his socked feet, and thick golden curtains that are already closed over the windows for the night.
“So… Santi set us up,” Gene says as a means of a conversation starter.
“I guess so.” Ray shuffles from foot to foot, standing next to the dresser with the TV on top as if he’s unsure of what else to do. Same goes for me, man. “Did you know about this?”
“Nope. I tried heading back to Maurice’s room, but Santi was in there to stop me.”
Ray chuckles. “Leave it to Santi. Though… I’m glad he did this. Because… Well, I have wanted to talk to you more again.”
Gene raises his brows. “You have?”
“Yeah, of course,” Ray chuckles. “I just didn’t know what to say. I guess I tried saying hi a few times, but you seemed more interested in running off to somewhere else.”
“Ah, well…” Gene rubs his elbow, running his fingers over the soft fabric of his blazer. “I didn’t want to get in the way of you and Carol, y’know. Since me and her… and now you guys…”
“I mean, I get that.” Ray shrugs. “I haven’t told you yet, but as of last night, me and her are going steady.”
Gene’s heart sinks into his stomach.
“Y-you are?”
“Yeah.” Ray nods as if nothing is out of the ordinary.
“How are you going to go about that? I mean, you know how you were with Harriet…”
Ray shakes his head, a frown on his face. “Yeah, I know. But I’m going to do better this time. I really like Carol.”
“I thought you liked Harriet, too.”
“Fuck you, Gene,” Ray says without any real malice, pouting almost comically. “I promise, I really will try harder, for sure.”
“Sure you will.”