Chapter 5 Milton
Milton, present day
Sweat dripped off my forehead onto my snare drum as I neared the end of my crash out—the outro to our set.
We’d been rehearsing for the Ballads for Hope Fest for weeks now. It was the first time we had been invited to be one of the headlining bands, and we wanted to perfect it, especially with it being a fundraising event.
Just coming off the last leg of our tour a few months ago, we were still feeling pretty prepared, the rhythm and motions fresh in our brains, and we had only had to adjust our set list by a few songs.
Liam came up with some new crowd-work ideas from what we’d used while on the road.
He’d always been good at giving speeches that got our fans going.
The set list just needed to be ninety minutes instead of our usual two-hour show, so we’d dropped a few songs to make sure we fit our window but kept most of our fan favorites.
It all seemed pretty cut and dry, but something about performing only one show for a single-night event like this made me more nervous than being on the road and performing the same set every other night in a different city.
When we were touring, fans knowingly spent their money to see us.
The festival had eighteen different bands that people would be coming to see. The pressure felt heavier than normal.
Danny was lacking a bit of the energy that Lexie, Liam, and I had because of the new baby, but the four of us were itching to get back onstage together again.
We had our small European tour coming up in a few months, but that seemed like ages away, and to be honest, I was scared as hell for that.
Our first international tour. Fuck, I couldn’t believe it.
We’d been dreaming about touring in other countries since we had started our band in Danny’s garage back in high school. Now that we were going, it was a little surreal. New fans, new location, new … everything.
But as Avery reminded us at every meeting we had about the tour, it was still us and our music. That remained the same and always would.
Stretching the bottom of my old shirt up, I swiped the tattered blue fabric across my forehead. My shirt had already soaked through from my back and abdomen sweat over thirty minutes ago, so it didn’t do much.
Panting, I dropped my drumsticks in front of me and reached for my water on my side. Grateful it was still cold, I swallowed back half of it, then took my hat off and doused my dark blond hair with the remainder, shaking off the droplets before placing my hat back on.
I wasn’t used to having all this hair. I typically buzzed it off every time it grew longer than an inch or two, but I’d lost a bet with Lexie at the beginning of our American tour during an unlucky game of drunken darts and wasn’t allowed to cut it until it ended.
Now that it was over, I couldn’t bring myself to cut it just yet.
With the change of moving to LA this year, I tried to keep some things the same where I could.
Familiarity was like a weighted blanket in a storm of uncertainty.
Although I liked to consider myself a pretty adaptable guy—I’d had to be when I was younger—that didn’t mean I couldn’t find comfort in wanting some things to be left the way they were.
All four of us had had a bit of a change in style over the last year.
Danny had bulked up in muscle in the months leading up to Logan’s due date.
He’d made me go to the gym with him nearly every day to work off some of the nerves of having his first kid.
Not that he had anything to worry about.
He was a natural with Logan’s daughter, Violet.
Liam hadn’t changed too much, apart from the short beard he’d started growing out and the tight-fitted tank tops he’d added to his wardrobe. Avery encouraged it, and the fans seemed to like it quite a bit.
Lexie alternated which colorful wig she wore to each show, per usual, but she’d slowly integrated more leopard print and leather into her wardrobe, which proved to be a big hit with the fans as well. But that woman could do just about anything, and the crowd would swoon at her feet.
And for me, my change had been my hair. Over the last eight months, the new style had grown on me.
Lexie saw me fussing with it and reached over my snare drum to twirl a strand sticking out of my hat. “You still growin’ it out because that hot stylist at Forbidden Notes Magazine said you looked like a modern-day James Dean?”
“No,” I replied stubbornly, swatting her away. Popping my chin up, I gave her a cocky grin. “But … she wasn’t too far off, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure, Tic.”
“Hey, Danny boy,” Liam called over the mic. “Can we run the bridge back one more time on that one? I think you were a half a beat ahead.”
Danny shot his eyebrows up at him, exasperated. “Fuck off. I was perfect.”
“Eh …” Liam disagreed with a wince.
Lexie walked over and bumped Danny’s shoulder. “Aha! Sucks to suck!”
I sat at my stool, feeling shielded by my drum set from their petty back-and-forth.
“Guys, come on!” Avery scolded the three of them.
Avery taking over as our manager had been a difficult adjustment for everyone after our last one was arrested, but she’d molded and adapted in no time. Now, I couldn’t imagine the band without her. None of us could.
“Sorry, Avery,” Lexie said, holding her hands up in submission.
“What’d I do, Av?” Liam asked, wrapping his arms around his wife and kissing her forehead. “I was just telling it like it is. You heard it, right? He was rushing.”
Avery chewed on her lip as she stared up at him, melting in his embrace.
“No, no! That’s bullshit!” Danny shouted at his sister in frustration. “No playing favorites, Avery!”
She leveled him with a stare from across the stage. “I’m not!”
Danny raised his brows, waiting for her to agree with him.
Her head teetered, and I stifled a laugh.
“You were rushing a bit though,” Avery finally admitted.
Danny threw his head back and marched offstage, then pivoted and marched right back on. “All right, run it again,” he ordered. “I’ll show you that you’re all wrong.”
Lexie tossed her bright red hair over her shoulder. “You two are like toddlers sometimes, I swear.”
Liam tried not to look entertained by Danny’s little tantrum before nodding over at me. “All right. Ready when you are, Tic.”
Running a hand over my face, I wiped my grin and the excess sweat away. I counted in with four kick-drum beats and then came in two bars before the bridge to give Danny enough warning.
He ripped through the chord progression with precision, hitting every note on beat, staring Liam and Avery down the entire time he did it.
Liam chuckled and clapped when he finished. “Thatta boy!”
“Yeah, yeah. Fuck right off,” Danny muttered, removing his guitar strap with a slight tilt of his mouth.
“Are we done for the day, fam?” Lexie asked, already handing her bass guitar off to our crew. “I’ve got a hot date with my gynecologist.”
“Jesus.” Avery sighed and then stole Liam’s microphone. “Uh, yeah. You guys are all set to do sound check tomorrow at ten and are on at eight. Do not be late! You hear me?”
“Yes, Mom!” Lexie shouted, waving as she strutted toward the exit.
“Got it, Avery,” I said, bumping knuckles with her when I made my way offstage. “Thanks.”
“Thanks, Milton,” she replied. “I’ll send you all the itinerary again, just in case. Are you still wanting to drive yourself, or do you want me to arrange a car to pick you up?”
“Nah, don’t worry about me. I’m just going to take my bike. It’s a lot easier to get in and out, you know?”
“Sounds good, just be careful,” she told me.
“Always am.” I planted my hand atop her brown hair and shook it, messing it up.
She smacked me with her notebook. “Get out of here, punk.”
“See you guys tomorrow!” I leaped off the side of the stage, made my way to my bike parked in the front of the lot, and shoved my helmet over my head.
One of the stage crew members leaned forward to meet me at eye level as I hurled into the trash can for the second time. “Yo, you good, man?” he asked.
I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth and gave him a thumbs-up.
Liam sauntered over, nudging my arm with a water bottle, his other hand gripping his microphone. I quickly took it from him and drank half the bottle, the ice-cold liquid washing away the burn of acid in my throat.
Ten years of doing this shit, and I still couldn’t kick the preshow ritual of spilling my guts before going up onstage to perform.
Lexie and Danny finished adjusting their mic packs and in-ears, then gave Liam and me a nod.
My pulse spiked with anticipation as the music playing through the speakers quieted, alerting the fans that the show was about to begin.
And I was the first onstage.
As I fished my drumsticks out of my back pocket, the familiar buzz of nerves started in the pit of my stomach and shot through my veins. Like always, the sick feeling subsided and was quickly replaced with pure adrenaline.
I felt like I could fly—like, at any moment, I was going to lift off the ground and soar straight up into the clear night sky above.
I howled loudly as I looked up and took in the crowd for the first time, needing somewhere for the excess excitement to go.
Holy fuck, this never gets old.
It was pitch-black onstage, so no one knew I was there yet. I bounced up and down before settling in, checking my in-ear monitors, then cracked my neck from side to side. I was fucking giddy as all hell.
Taking a deep breath, I nodded four times to count myself in and cue the light crew, then hit the first beat of my drum while lights flickered in unison.
The crowd roared, and the side of my mouth lifted into a grin.
I hit them again, the lights shining over me now, but only for a moment, as I teased the crowd one last time before bringing the stage to life by thrashing my cymbals and hitting my bass and kick drum.
Hands and phones shot in the air as the crowd grew, the outer edges of the festival filling in with so many people that I couldn’t see anything else.
Lexie and Danny waited just offstage, then entered, one by one. Liam walked on last with a big, flashing light show.
“Helloooooo, beautiful people!” Liam’s voice rang through the speakers.
The feedback from the audience was so loud; I had to laugh to myself before gesturing to the stage crew to turn up the volume of my ear monitors.
“My name is Liam!” Liam continued his introduction, though from the looks and sounds of it, I didn’t think one was needed. He paused, waiting for the wave of applause to pass, and then pointed at each of us. “This is Lexie, Danny, and Tic. And we are—”
He held his arms out wide, welcoming the audience as they shouted back at us, “A QUIET PERIL!”