Los’s Long Day in LA – By R.L. Merrill #5
“Salvador?” Two cops had come over to the car next to theirs, so Los stepped back and removed his hand. “What the hell? You trying out for some vampire show with all them sparkles? You the new Cullen kid?”
“Fuck off, Rodriguez. Next time, I’ll let you get glitter-bombed at Akbar.”
“Oh, I love Akbar,” the other cop said. “God, they have the hottest bartenders. They really appreciate the badge, know what I mean?” The guy winked at Los and climbed into the car.
The moment was over. Los stepped back so she could shut the door. She led him inside and through the department, where various people gave her shit about the glitter all over her uniform. Once they reached the front desk, it was Los getting shouted at.
“ Carlos Frijole Jalapeno Morales! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Los had never been so happy to see Silas, Krish, Brains, and Paul in his entire life.
“Does he belong to you?” Angela asked, putting a hand on Los’s back. He grinned down at her. Man, had he gotten lucky.
“He most certainly does.” Silas planted his fists on his hips. “Your whackadoo cousin called your long-suffering sister, who called me and explained what happened. We called around the departments and they told us to come here. Are you okay?”
“Do you guys have my wallet by any—thank God. Here,” he said, shoving his license at Angela. She held up her hand.
“I saw it, remember?”
“Right. Uh, wait.” He pulled out a receipt from dinner the night before. They’d gone to Rainbow when they arrived in town, and he’d treated everyone. “Can I borrow your pen?”
She handed him one from her pocket with a confused look.
He signed his name in the super-elaborate style that he saved for events and wrote, “Gracias, Nelly, por mi angel. Bedankt.” He handed her the paper. “For your friend.”
“She’s going to be so stoked.”
He gave her a little bow. Krish and Silas fussed over his owies while Paul, a former Navy corpsman, looked in his eyes, asked about the fall, whether he hit his head, and poked and prodded him.
“Yeah, sadly the fire boys were having more fun roasting him than actually doing their job,” Angela said. “I was going to clean up the rest of his wounds when we got here but, it looks like you’ve got things under control.”
She smiled at Los and stepped back, but he reached for her hand, surprising both of them.
“Wait. Paul, can we get passes for Angela and her friend, Nelly?”
Paul smiled knowingly. “A-ffirm. Can you Airdrop me your contact and I can get them over to you? I’ll add you to Hush’s list. You’ll just need to show ID, and they’ll direct you to our camp. We need to take off, though, if we’re going to make it for soundcheck.”
“Hey, Los? Do all LA cops sparkle, or did you just get lucky with this one?” Silas wiggled his eyebrows.
Angela rolled her eyes. “Watch out for holes, Morales.”
Her smile made his knees weak as she sauntered toward the back of the station. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“We leave you alone for five minutes…” Brains shook his head and put an arm around him. “You okay?”
Los turned and hugged Brains a little tighter than his friend was probably expecting. “I am now. I’ll tell you everything. Let’s just get out of here before she changes her mind. I swear, she was about to have me locked up in a psych ward.”
Krish patted his shoulder. “Unless she thought you were a threat to yourself or someone else, they don’t do that kind of thing. You probably would have just been thrown into a holding cell and taken to county if we didn’t show up.”
“You’re not helping, my guy.”
Los took all the razzing from his fam on the way to the venue, refusing to say anything other than Angela had been very cool when she didn’t have to be, and that he hoped she came to the show.
He was thankfully able to take a shower, and after he was clean, Paul disinfected all his scrapes and bandaged the ones that needed it.
Two fingertips were sliced from the phone’s broken glass, but he’d get through their set.
He’d played with broken fingers before. This was no sweat.
Sound check went by without a hitch and then the show started.
Caity Babs was on hand from SiriusXM to host, and she announced the bands and talked up items in the auction.
A couple of local comedians also performed while they tore down and set up between acts.
Hush was the first of the bigger bands to play, and as it was getting close to their start time, Los looked around.
“Brains? Do you know if Paul’s heard from Angela?”
They were standing side-stage watching Shady Grace play, which was awesome.
Morrison and Leland being back together with their bandmates after all these years was a fairytale story.
So many of their friends had been through hell and made it back stronger than ever.
Besides running Bolder Breed, one of the coolest studios and retreats for artists, those two had a sweet love story. They sounded better than ever.
“He’s checking with security. They might have gone straight to their seats.”
He knew Brains didn’t want him to be disappointed. Los would be if she didn’t show, but he’d be okay. He hadn’t fallen apart even when he was trapped in a hole. He couldn’t wait to tell his therapist next week.
“Paul said they just made it,” Brains read from his phone. “They’re at their seats. He texted her. She said…” Brains chuckled. “She said ‘you better not suck.’”
Los grinned. “She’s an angel for real, dude.”
Brains’s eyebrows rose. “All right then.”
Hush’s set was a furious cacophony of their hits plus an awesome punk medley, which included songs from The Germs, Black Flag, X, and The Circle Jerks. It ended with the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Taste The Pain,” which Los sang.
After they released their fifth album— Sunrise , their first after Gavin’s death—Silas had insisted that Los should sing more.
Los sang lead on a song on each of their last three albums. He’d started writing more as well, and Silas and Brains claimed to love his contributions.
That meant a lot. He’d always been satisfied to just be a part of the band, but it felt good to be able to participate as a near-equal.
Silas got a little wild doing his Flea impersonation and crashed into Los’s back, knocking Los’s teeth into the mic, but it was all in fun. It was better than the times Silas had climbed on his back and screamed in his face. Or when Silas would kiss his cheek or stick his tongue in Los’s ear.
“Thank you, Hollywood,” Silas shouted. “We’re grateful to be here to celebrate with our SoCal pals.
Give what you can to help, guys. These fires were no joke.
We nearly lost our house in Oakland due to a wildfire a couple of years ago, and I gotta say, it’s the most terrifying thing in the world to get that text telling you to evacuate immediately, to hear firefighters shouting on your street with bullhorns.
We were fortunate, but we’ll always have a kinship with those in the fire’s path, and we’ll always have a place in our hearts for those we’ve lost.
“I want to give a special thank you to LAPD Officer Angela Salvador, for her swift action today that saved a member of our family.” He shot Los a look, as Los’s face burned.
“Without her patience, and sense of humor, we might not have made it here today, so thank you. Give it up for our first responders, huh? Give it up!” Silas came over, kissed Los on the cheek, and whisper-shouted, “I love you, Brorales.”
“I love you, too, Bro-dumbass.”
The crowd clapped for a long time, and then Los strummed the opening cords to their final song, “Goodbye Is Not Forever,” which always made Los cry a little.
He missed Gavin every time they performed, especially during that song, but they’d come a long way, and Los was grateful every day to be a part of this band of brothers.
The applause was thunderous when they finished, and Los had a snotty thought that Bring Me The Horizon was going to have some big shoes to fill when they came on next.
The band left the stage and got unhooked from their monitors before darting out of the way of the stagehands.
They made their way back to the classroom-type space they were given as their home base.
Krish and Paul jumped up and hugged their men.
Los was nearly bowled over by Oli Sykes and company as they headed out to do their set.
“Let’s go shake some dicks, you fuckin’ cunts,” Oli shouted to his band. He winked at Los and they clapped hands as he passed.
“How does one respond to that?” Los mused.
“Did he just say the c word?”
Los spun around at the feminine voice, which belonged to a Latina woman with elaborately styled black hair, red cat-eye glasses and bright red lipstick. She smiled at Los… and then her friend stepped out from behind her.
“Angela.” If he’d thought she was gorgeous in her uniform, tonight she stole the rest of his breath in this getup. She wore a white tank with no bra and colorful tattoos covered her chest. She wore faded jeans with a studded belt and black motorcycle boots.
Dios. Mio.
“This must be Nelly?” He took the woman’s hand while she fanned herself with the other.
“Hi, ohmygod, thank you for the passes! You guys were so great.”
“Thank you for sending me an angel earlier.”
He gave Angela his most winning smile. She rolled her eyes but smiled back.
“I’m sorry those fire boys were jerks. Sometimes they’re such assholes.”
Los held up his hand. “No harm done. I was the dumbass who fell in the hole.”
She put a hand on his arm. “I’m so glad you were okay! I can’t imagine if you would have missed this.”
“Morales, bruh, who’s your friend?”
Jordan sidled up to Los and hip-checked him. Nelly’s eyes went even wider.
“Jordan Barrett, this lovely creature is Nelly. She’s the dispatcher who saved me. And this is Angela, the amazing cop who didn’t arrest me.”