Chapter 20
The Dusty Brooms’ tour bus has been beefed up and remodeled for their first nation-wide US tour.
With them traveling farther distances, longer hours on the road and needing to drive throughout the night, they cut out some of the seats they weren’t using to fit in a few bunk beds in the back.
Not only that, they installed some moody curtains on the windows and added lamps.
Gene and Santiago tag-team painted the sides of the bus with some groovy, psychedelic swirls and colors.
Painting something for the band has been an aspiration for Gene, and what better use for his artistic talent than to paint a piece that’ll be seen driven all across the country?
Their newest single, ‘Burn it Down’, released a week before the tour started, and it blows Gene’s mind that each and every record seems to perform better than the last. He’s very proud of how this one turned out, enjoying how despite everything, he’d still gotten to write this song one-on-one with Ray and had a phenomenal time recording.
Overall, he’s been feeling pretty good—though he has to admit, some of that good feeling is probably due to the weed he’s been smoking.
The Brooms started their tour with a show in Detroit, then traveled to Chicago, and then to Cleveland, Ohio.
Now they’ve arrived in the Big Apple itself—New York fucking City.
If Gene thought Chicago was big, it doesn’t even compare to the immense size this enormous city is.
I’m glad I’m not the one driving. When the bus parks outside their hotel, there’s already a mob of fans waiting for them by the doors.
How did they even know where we’d be staying?
Either way, it catches Gene off guard. Sure, they had fans greet them even in Chicago and Detroit, but not this many.
Seeing the crazed fans like this, waving around hand-written posters and T-shirts waiting to be signed, puts it all into perspective how big their band is growing.
Gene puts on his sunglasses, smiling, full of pride as he and the Dusty Brooms exit the bus, preparing themselves for their biggest show yet.
Gene lounges on a bench against the white brick wall of the greenroom, backstage inside Madison Square Garden.
The Madison Square Garden. Where greats such as Jimi Hendrix, John Lennon, the Rolling Stones, and Led Zeppelin all held concerts with thousands and thousands of people filling the audience.
Now it’s the Dusty Brooms’ turn. The stadium looked huge during soundcheck even when empty, and Gene’s mind goes for a ride just imagining what it’ll look like filled with shouting, overly outrageous fans.
He can even hear them now through the walls, waiting for the show to start.
They’re not even cheering yet, but it doesn’t matter—he can hear them anyway due to how many of them there are.
It’s overwhelming, and Gene tries to calm his nerves with a cigarette.
They actually have an opening band this time, a local one from Queens.
They’re hanging with most of the Brooms, Santiago walking around them all with his home movie camera.
Ray is off in a dressing room getting his make-up and hair done by Carol.
She really knows how to bring out his features, especially his bright blue eyes.
Gene can’t wait to see him come out in all his utterly handsome glory.
Also hanging with them all in the greenroom is their new touring keyboardist, a young man about Gene’s age from Ohio named Nicky Emerson.
He’s been a blast to work with, and such a talented person too.
He and Gene have already hit it off quite well, becoming fast friends, pretty easily enough as they enjoy and play the same music together.
There’s a small table nearby with Nicky, the roadies, their touring trumpet player, and the opening band congregating around it. But the way they’re giggling seems rather odd, the way they hunch over the table, one by one, making such awkward noises with their noses…
Oh. I see what they’re doing now.
Gene had known that cocaine was a popular drug amongst rockstars, but with still being so new to the business, he’d yet to see it personally.
Though it was only a matter of time before they’d invite someone on a tour who would bring it along.
He’d already been introduced to weed by Maurice, and the more he looks at the people by the table, how much they’re laughing, how much fun they’re having, how pumped they are and excited for the show…
Gene stands up and walks over to the table.
Nicky spots him, giving a friendly wave. It’s quite a funny sight, seeing little bits of white powder sticking to Nicky’s thin moustache. “Hey, Gene!”
“Hey, Nicky. What are you guys doing?”
“Just some coke.” He says it so nonchalantly. “You want some?”
Gene licks his lips. He takes a drag from his cigarette before he speaks. “Um… I’ve never tried it.”
“Oh, really?” Nicky’s eyes widen, genuinely looking surprised.
“I would’ve thought as a guitarist in a band…
Well, whatever. Did you still want some?
” He rubs his hand over his moustache, clearing the powder away, and then he itches his scalp with his other hand, running his fingers through his shoulder-length straight brown hair.
“What’s it like, taking it?” Gene asks.
“It’s an upper—a stimulant. It makes you… feel everything around you, and it feels so fuckin’ good, man. It’s not like weed which makes you relax. It’s…” Nicky waves his hand around. “It hypes you up. Like caffeine, except a million times better. Real good before a show, I think.”
“You really think so?” He feels pretty good now, but could something like this make him feel even better?
“Yeah, definitely. Why else would I be doing it?” Nicky laughs.
Gene looks around, trying to see if he can spot the rest of the Brooms. Stefan is chatting with Dennis about something.
Santiago is having a drink, his video camera now put away in his locker, and he’s hanging out with Pat and Maurice, who’s snapping photos.
Ray is still in the dressing room. What would they think, if I took it?
He rubs his chin, feeling over his light stubble.
They probably won’t care. It’s not like Dennis is stopping these guys over here. We’re rockstars, for Christ’s sake. We’re in fucking New York City! It’ll be fine.
“Alright. How do I snort it?”
Nicky chuckles, shaking his head. “Literally however you can get it into your nose. Though it’s much cleaner and easier to do it with something like a rolling paper.”
“Okay. Seems easy enough.”
“Here, let me set up a line for you.”
From his blazer’s inside pocket, Nicky pulls out a small black film canister and shakes the powdery contents from it onto the table gently, like adding a pinch of salt to a dish.
He arranges it all into a fine line with a playing card, then rips out a rolling paper from a pack lying on the table, rolling it into a straw-like tube.
“Is… is that all for me?” Gene asks.
“If you want it, yeah. But if not, I’ll finish it off for you.” Nicky holds the rolling paper out to Gene.
“That works. Alright.” Gene stubs his cigarette out in an ashtray on the table. He accepts the rolling paper, then steps up, leaning down in preparation for a high like never before.
It tickles his nose in the strangest way as he sucks it in. He winces, squinting his eyes, curling his nose. He gives it another go, snorting even more in, pulling in a bit over half the line into his sinus. That wasn’t so bad.
Done for the moment, he lifts himself up, straightening out his back. He shoves the rolling paper in his jeans’ front pocket. “Thanks, Nicky. I think I’m good for now.”
“Alright.” Nicky smiles, showing off one of his crooked front teeth. “Let me know if you want any more, especially since we gotta wait on these guys to play first.” He points his thumb in the general direction of the opening band members. “Got plenty of it to go around, so don’t be shy.”
“Sure thing.” Gene smiles back.
He knows that the effects will be kicking in soon, as it’s a rather fast drug—fast in, fast out.
So much so, that if he wants to continue, he probably will have to have another bump before he goes on stage, to really feel what Nicky described.
As it starts to take hold, his fingertips feeling tingly, his heartbeat quickening, he looks around himself.
Nicky has gone back to chatting with the other band.
Stefan has moved on to sitting on a bench against the wall—with a chick in his lap.
I swear, he’s even more of a player than Ray. Although, speaking of Ray…
“Hey Gene! There you are.”
Gene turns around to face the open door to the hallway, and in walks Ray.
“Oh, hey. I should be saying the same thing to you!”
Ray smiles at that, and—oh my god, is he ever so gorgeous.
The sparkles in Ray’s eyeshadow glisten like stars, contrasting his black eyeliner, accentuating his bright blue eyes.
He’s got on some pale lipgloss too, Gene can tell, with how his lips shimmer.
It makes Gene’s mouth water, aching for a taste.
And none of that is to mention the incredible outfit he has on—a sheer maroon tank top that’s almost see-through, accented by a dangling silver necklace.
Those pants, too. Tight around his sexy thighs, patterned with stars, leaving nothing to the imagination.
His harmonica sits on his hip, held in place by a scarf being used as a belt.
Fucking hell, I want to devour him.
“You alright there, Gene?” Ray chuckles, stepping closer.
Gene blinks. His shoulders feel tiny sparks zapping against them, underneath his button-up shirt. “Uh, yeah! I’m feeling great!”
Ray raises an eyebrow, then looks over to the table with Nicky, then back to Gene. “Did you…?”
“Yeah. I had a bump,” Gene says all too quickly. “But it—it wasn’t much.”