7. Río #2
“Sure did.” I stand straighter. “Coffee and a milkshake.”
Our manager glances at my babysitter for confirmation that no alcohol passed my lips. Unless you count the two or three sips at the club, I was a perfect angel.
“I have to admit, I did see Río drink from a couple others’ glasses last night at the club. But he didn’t order his own, nor did he have anything this morning.”
“NARC,” I mutter.
Luke smiles. “I’m impressed. You tried to get others to share, Río?”
“So?” Can’t blame a guy for trying.
He reaches over and in a move reserved for UC members, he fist-bumps Hayden. “Keep up the great work.”
Bennett and Jenna are the next to arrive. Jenna sits beside my babysitter and the two start chatting like old friends. Which, I guess, they sort of are considering all the work they did together when Jenna’s physical therapy clinics were under attack during the US part of our tour.
Bennett plunks down next to me and asks, “Stay sober?”
In a petulant tone, I reply, “Yes.”
He nods. “Impressive.”
Seriously? Have I become a lush? Nah.
The rest of the band comes down with the crew. Luke stands. “Ready for soundcheck?”
I’m definitely ready to discuss something other than my lack of drinks. “Hell to the yes!” We all move from the lobby into the waiting SUVs, and are whisked to the stadium. My babysitter is put in another vehicle. Good.
Soundcheck goes like usual, with the normal finagling with the mics. My drum kit needed some adjustments, but nothing out of the ordinary. We’re going to be good to go for the next two nights.
Kieron Malone, our new guitar tech, works with 007 and Coop for a while after the rest of us finish.
I really liked Chico Fernandez, who was the guitar tech with UC for years.
This new guy seems nice enough, but he simply doesn’t give off the same vibe.
Whatever. Coop and 007 seem to like him, which is all that matters.
When everyone joins us in the green room, Hayden grabs our attention. She’s changed clothes from earlier, and now wears a form-fitting navy blue dress with a lighter blue blazer and a chunky necklace. She looks very put together. Like usual.
“Hi there. We’re going to the radio station’s meet-and-greet.
All the participants won the right to be here tonight by answering questions, so they should know a bit more about UC than usual.
There’s no formal line, so feel free to mingle.
Everyone, except Río, go ahead and have a drink with them, but remember you’re putting on a show later. ”
I bang against my leg at being called out for not being able to drink. “Whatever,” I call. “I’m still going to have a good time. Maybe even pick out my evening’s entertainment while I’m there.”
Hayden cringes for a moment at my pronouncement but squares her shoulders. Gotta give the woman some props. Would prefer a Gold Rush, though.
The presser begins, and I enjoy meeting these folks, although I don’t speak Spanish.
The great majority of these fans have good to very good English, and it’s cool talking about my role behind the drums with several of them.
My mouth does water as I watch my bandmates drinking, but I force myself to sip a soda, pretending it has rum in it.
Wishing it were rum.
Hayden gets everyone’s attention. “Thank you all for coming, but we have to wrap it up now. After all, Untamed Coaster has a concert to give tonight.”
Everyone laughs at her quip. Me? I appreciate how she made everybody feel welcomed and a part of the gig, rather than a means to an end. Unlike how Pop works. I frown. He needs to stay gone.
Shoving my ugly thoughts about Pop away, I say goodbye to the folks around me and join my bandmates and we enter a conference area for food.
Turns out, it’s not the usual fried shit—tonight’s offering features a bunch of Spanish items. Like chorizo.
Uh-oh. I better grab some before Coop spies it and it’s gone.
I pick up a plate and load it up with chorizo, elbowing the other guys to get theirs before it’s too late.
They catch my drift and when Coop comes up to the buffet table, there’s only a couple of lonely pieces left.
I lock 007’s gaze and try to hide my smirk.
Bennett does the same. Tris, although new to UC, learned about Coop’s love affair with the Spanish sausage earlier and is in on the joke.
Coop raises his ever-present sunglasses. “Guys! They only gave us these two ratty pieces of chorizo? What the fuck?”
I leap into action and tuck my plate behind my back. “Guess they were running low.”
“This sucks.” He shovels the chorizo onto his plate. “I’m going to ask for more.” He leaves his dish on the table and storms away.
Of course, I can’t leave it there. Using my fork, I spear Coop’s two pieces and put them on my plate, then I take a seat away from him. I’m chewing on one piece of his favorite food when he returns.
And stops. “Alright. Where is my chorizo?”
“I don’t know. Did you check in your pants?” My quip garners loud laughs from the guys.
“This is not funny. They told me they put out a ton, per our contract. Who has it?” His head swivels to me.
I stand and raise my hands in surrender. “Why does everyone always accuse me?”
“Because you’re usually behind whatever it is.” Coop advances toward me, and I abandon my plate and run to the opposite side of the room, laughing.
“It wasn’t only me!”
The rest of the guys starts laughing and eating Coop’s beloved chorizo. I take pity on our guitarist and give him what’s left of my entire plateful, which he takes. “Jerk.” He shovels some into his mouth and the bliss that crosses his face is something to behold.
“I bet the chicks would die to get a look like that from you,” I remark.
“They should be so lucky.”
Not bringing up his monk-like behavior. Instead, I smile with my brothers.
The remainder of the meal goes about the same way, and we enjoy our opening band before changing into the clothes Nese set up for us. Well, for me, only pants since she’s quite aware I hate having any sort of material on my upper body when playing drums.
When Luke calls us backstage, I notice Hayden off to the side, toting a camera. “Gonna watch our gig tonight?”
“I always do,” she replies. “Do good out there.”
I toss her words back in her face. “I always do.”
By the steps, I join my friends in raising our fists into the air. Bennett locks eyes with each one of us. “Strapped, locked, and loaded, are you ready to roll with Untamed Coaster?” A collective whoop is released and we scramble toward the stage.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins with each step.
I’m never more in my element than when I’m behind my kit.
I take a long swig of water and make sure six more bottles are by the side before hopping onto the stool.
I touch each piece—snare, bass drum, all my cymbals and tom toms—confident the instruments are ready to perform.
My butt wiggles on the stool, and I’m ready.