The Essential Jagged Ivory (Jagged Ivory Boxed Set)

by Lashell Collins

  “Ah, it feels great,” he said quietly. “I've always loved being onstage; I love feeling the energy of a live crowd.”

  “So no nervous jitters about being gone for so long?” she asked.

  “Um … no. Not really,” he lied, as his foot silently and anxiously tapped the floor.

  “No? So you're completely ready for tonight, and rehab was a good experience?” she prodded.

  Benji felt his jaw tighten as he glared at her. What the hell kind of question was that? And how the hell was he supposed to answer it? “One thing has nothing to do with the other,” he stated with a slight attitude. He was pissed, and he hoped that she could feel it. “Getting onstage is like riding a bike. Playing the bass is as easy as breathing for me; it's what I do. It's who I am. And yeah … rehab was a good experience.”

  She bristled slightly at the hostility she sensed from him, and Benji took a small bit of pleasure in it. He knew that she was just doing her job, and that he should probably develop a little thicker skin. But what a fucking question to ask! And he silently prayed that what he had said to her would prove to be true tonight and that getting on that stage would be just like riding a bike. Clean or not.

  The interviewer turned her attention to Cory then, asking him a few questions about the controversy over the photos of his brand new wife kissing her co-star of the new movie she was working on. And Benji felt his friend's pain as he listened to him struggle to respond kindly. He really hated interviews.

  “So your new marriage to America's Sweetheart is still solid then?” she was asking Cory. And Benji rolled his eyes slightly at the intrusive question.

  “Donna and I are doing just fine,” Cory said, his voice holding the same level of attitude that Benji's had just a few moments ago. “Those pictures were taken from the set of her new movie and blown way out of proportion.”

  When their interview was finally over, the guys wandered back to the dressing room. And Benji was immediately uncomfortable once again. He wanted to be able to just sit and hang out with the guys, like normal. But he knew that he couldn't sit here or he would quickly go mad.

  He stood up and walked over to Noah. And he smiled when Mercy raised her camera to snap a quick shot of the two of them together.

  “I'm so glad you're back, Benji,” Mercy smiled before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

  “Thanks, Mercy.” She wandered off to snap a few more candids for Jagged Ivory's online tour journal. And when she walked away, he turned to Noah. “Hey. Listen, I can't sit here in this room,” he said quietly. “I'm gonna go out to the wings, watch the action. That's where I'll be if you come looking for me, okay?”

  “Okay. You alright, man?” Noah asked, clearly concerned.

  “Yeah. I just can't sit in here.”

  Noah nodded his head, somewhat puzzled. “Alright.”

  He turned and left the room then, heading back through the hallways and out to the wings of the stage. He felt so antsy, and he knew instinctively that he just had to get away from that dressing room.

  Fae had everything set up and ready to go, and she smiled at her handiwork as she looked over all ten bass guitars in her keep. She had personally cleaned and restrung all ten of them before soundcheck and now they sat waiting for the show to begin. And as she finished replacing her wireless and wah batteries, she glanced up and frowned slightly when she saw Benji pacing around in the wings. He seemed to be in his own little world, lost deep in thought. But he was wearing a troubled sort of expression, and Fae couldn't help herself. She was drawn to him. Setting the effects pedals aside, she walked over to him.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Bass Guitar God?” she asked, as she approached him. “Is everything okay?”

  Benji's eyes met hers blankly at first, but then he started to smile, slowly. And Fae smiled back when his smile finally morphed into a chuckle.

  “Well, at least that's better than the worried expression you were wearing a minute ago,” she said, holding his gaze. “Is everything alright, Boss?”

  Benji took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He shook his head slightly as he looked at her. “No. Everything is not alright. Just between you and me, Fae?” he asked. And she nodded her head in agreement. “I am a fucking nervous wreck tonight.”

  Fae was shocked by his candor, and she was certain that her facial expression must have reflected that because he smirked at her. “Why?” she asked. “Do you always get stage fright before a show?”

  He shook his head. “No. It's actually got very little to do with the show itself,” he told her. “Although I did have a little meltdown earlier, thinking about the fact that I have never gotten onstage clean before. It freaked me out for a while. Noah actually had to calm me down and give me a pep talk. But I couldn't sit in the dressing room. I had to get out of there or I knew I was headed straight back to that meltdown frame of mind.”

  “I don't understand,” Fae said softly. “What's wrong with the dressing room?”

  He smirked at her once more. “There's nothing wrong with it. But for me, sitting backstage in a dressing room and waiting for the show to start means that it's time to get loaded. Have a few drinks to calm the nerves or find your courage. Do a few lines of blow, or some X to get hyped up. I can't just sit there and pretend that it's not on my mind, you know?”

  Fae nodded her head sadly. “Yeah. I guess I get it.”

  “And I don't know what's going to happen after the show,” he continued, beginning to grow agitated. “That's the part that's got me the most worried, I guess. I mean, I know that once I get onstage, everything will be golden. When the music starts and I feel the crowd and get into that groove, I'll be okay. At least … I'm really hoping that's the case. But after the show … what happens then?” he shrugged.

  He looked at her as if he really needed for her to have the answers. And Fae wanted so much to give him the solutions he was seeking, only she wasn't exactly certain what he was asking. And he must have been able to read her uncertainty, because he continued to explain.

  “Fae … I have never not partied after a show,” he said simply. “I don't even know how that works. I don't know what to expect or what I should do. Or not do. I mean … the guys said that they've all curbed their recreational use, you know? On account of me and Noah both trying to get clean. But I don't know how committed they are to that, and I can't ask them to put their toys away so that I won't be tempted to play with them. I don't want them to have to change their lifestyles because of me. And I don't want them to feel like they can't have any fun with me around anymore. But if they go out to a party or a club tonight … what do I do? Do I tag along and set myself up to fail? Or do I go back to an empty hotel room and try not to think about the fact that they're all out partying while I'm sitting there alone?”

  Fae listened to him agonize over his dilemma, and her heart went out to him. He seemed to be in such torment over his situation. And he didn't give her a chance to respond to his plethora of questions, he just kept right on wrestling with himself.

  “And we are right here in L.A.,” he said with a distressed laugh. “I deleted my dealer's numbers from my phone months ago. But do you really think I would have any problem getting in touch with him if I was bored and set my mind to it? I was one of his biggest customers for years. It probably wouldn't take me more than five minutes to connect with him. Just one phone call to the right person, and he would be more than happy to deliver to me as soon as I stepped off the stage! And the biggest question on my mind right now is can I trust myself not to make that phone call?” He shook his head slightly as he wondered aloud, “Did I come back too soon? Am I really ready to be here? Can I handle being on the road again? 'Cause the way I'm feeling right now … I'm not so sure.”

  He looked so desperate for answers, and Fae suddenly felt so bad for this sweet, gentle, tortured man. But she knew that she couldn't allow herself to see him in a romantic light or to get emotionally invested in him in any way. And not just because of their working relat
ionship although, that was a big part of it. But Fae had promised herself that drugs would never be a part of her life again. She couldn't be the caretaker of another addict. She just couldn't. And she knew that she should walk away now. Just go back to doing her job and let the bass guitar god figure it out for himself. But she just couldn't. Something in his eyes wouldn't let her walk away from him.

  “Well, I don't know if you came back too soon,” Fae told him honestly. “But I do know that you are ready to get back onstage. I know that you can handle that bass like nobody's business. And I know that you rocked the hell out of all those rehearsals last week.”

  Benji snorted softly. “Thanks, but …”

  “No buts!” Her voice was suddenly loud and emphatic. “Benji, all of this is psychological. Your meltdown from before about not being able to play clean. Your uneasiness in the dressing room. It's all about learning to think about those activities differently. Just like your rehearsals last week.”

  “What do you mean?” he frowned at her.

  “Well … I heard some of the backline guys talking about how Jagged Ivory's rehearsals used to be fueled by alcohol and weed. They were pleasantly surprised by the switch last week,” she said, looking him in the eye. Then she shrugged a shoulder at him. “I'm guessing that you probably weren't sure if you could handle rehearsal either but … you got through it. With a little help from your friends, right?”

  His frown deepened as he nodded at her. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “So, if they say that they've cooled it with the drugs to help you out … why not trust them? They do care about you. And I mean, if there are no drugs or alcohol anywhere in that dressing room, then you're not in any danger, are you?”

  He smiled at her. “No. I guess not.”

  “No,” she repeated. “And instead of being out here, listing to me rattle on and on … you could be in there with your friends, getting ready for your show.”

  He chuckled at her. “Are you trying to get rid of me, Fae?”

  “Not at all,” she smiled. “I'm just trying to help you make sense of this strange new world you find yourself in.”

  He cocked his head at her as he frowned. “Why? You barely even know me.”

  She shrugged at him. “Well, that may be true. But the happier you are, the happier our working relationship will be, right?”

  He chuckled at her again. “Interesting logic. But I guess you're right. I need to change my thinking of what the dressing room represents to me. The problem with that, though, is that it's not going to happen with the flip of a switch. And when I step off that stage tonight … I know that I'm going to be facing some real demons when I walk back into the dressing room.”

  He stared at her with such sincerity. And the look of genuine fear in his eyes tugged at her heart.

  “I'm sorry, Fae,” he continued. “I shouldn't be laying any of this on you. Like I said … you barely know me, and none of this should be any of your concern. Thank you, for listening though.”

  He turned to walk away from her then, but Fae couldn't let him go. “Benji?”

  He stopped and looked back at her. “Yeah?”

  “If you'd like … I would be more than happy to be your sidekick tonight,” she told him.

  Benji frowned at her once more. “My sidekick?”

  She smiled and nodded her head. “Yeah.”

  He chuckled as he watched her. She was so quirky and weird, and Benji found himself completely intrigued by the things that came out of her mouth sometimes. “Um … what does that mean exactly?” he asked as he studied her with narrowed eyes and an amused frown.

  “It means I'll be your sidekick,” she repeated, as if her meaning should already be perfectly clear. “You know … your partner, your accomplice, your wingman. The Robin to your Batman. The Harley Quinn to your Joker. The Free Spirit to your Captain America!”

  Benji burst out laughing at her explanation. He couldn't help himself, she was just so … zany. Quickly trying to calm himself, he stared at her with a smile. “Um … you're into comics?” he asked, trying not to laugh again.

  Fae blushed a little. “Mmm, yeah. Sorry.”

  “No. Don't apologize! I love comics,” he told her.

  “You do?” she smiled.

  “Yeah. Comics and graphic novels. They're about the closest I come to reading actual books. But I don't meet many women who are into that sort of thing,” he smiled.

  “Well see! That's something else we can talk about tonight when we're hanging out,” she exclaimed.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked her with a confused smile.

  Fae rolled her eyes at him. “Aren't you following along? Do I need a thought bubble over my head?” she joked, and he chuckled at her. “I'm talking about being …”

  “My sidekick,” he finished for her. “Yeah, so you've said. But I still have no idea what that means,” he smiled.

  Fae giggled at his obvious confusion. “Okay. You said before that you had all these reservations about what would happen tonight after the show. You don't want to put yourself in a position to fall off the wagon, but you don't want to keep your friends from going out and having fun either.”

  “Right,” he said slowly as he tried to follow her wacky logic once more.

  “Well, I'm offering to be your sidekick tonight. To hang out with you. That way, if you feel the need to escape an after-show party, and you don't want to go back to a lonely hotel room, you don't necessarily have to. We could hang out and talk shop. We could get some food … whatever you want to do,” she shrugged.

  Benji waited for the punchline, but it never came and he realized that she was serious. “You would do that?”

  “Yeah! I think it sounds like a blast,” she answered with a big smile. “Well … a blast for me, anyway. Probably sounds really boring to you, doesn't it?”

  “Um … no. It doesn't sound boring,” he answered honestly. He could hear the shock in his own voice and he wondered if she could hear it too. “But I can't ask you to do that. I wouldn't feel right.”

  “You wouldn't feel right asking me to hang out with my bass guitar hero?” she asked with a stunned expression. And Benji laughed at her. “I mean, I know the night would probably be a lot more exciting for me than it would be for you, but … trust me, it wouldn't be a hardship for me!”

  He smiled at her. “I'm really touched by the offer,” he said quietly as he looked at her. “I don't know. I may take you up on it,” he said. She smiled back at him just as he noticed the opening band coming off the stage, and a wave of anxiety rolled slowly over him as he realized that he had only about twenty minutes before Jagged Ivory had to hit the stage.

  “Time for me to go to work,” Fae said as she smiled at him. “My offer stands. Just let me know.” She turned and rushed back to her station then as Benji watched after her. And he noted with interest that she wasn't wearing a short skirt tonight. She was wearing a pair of very flattering black jeans. He smiled to himself as he watched her get to work. Then he took a deep breath and headed back down to the dressing room.

  Fae got busy, helping to clear the opening act from the stage and then reset it for Jagged Ivory. It was the busiest time of the entire show for the backline, with a lot of work to do and only twenty minutes to do it in. But with this being the third leg of the Thank Heaven tour, she and the others had it down to a science by now and things usually ran smooth as silk, even though they did typically find themselves really hustling toward the end of that time frame. And once the band finally hit the stage, it was two solid hours of non-stop adrenaline for Fae.

  She watched Benji constantly, looking for any sign that he needed anything from her, and changing basses with him at the appropriate times. Their eyes met a couple of times during those quick bass exchanges, but even when he acknowledged her, Fae could tell that Benji's total focus was on the task at hand. He appeared to be in a zone, and she didn't want to break his concentration. She was in awe of him; he was completely amazing
and he sounded better than ever. And she knew that it must have been so gratifying for him when the crowd went nuts to see him.

  Benji felt like he was ten feet tall onstage. That euphoric, alive, reborn feeling that had grabbed him at that first clean rehearsal was now magnified by about a thousand percent with the addition of a live audience of 20,000 screaming fans! It was the most incredible high he could remember in a long, long time, and he was so enamored with that feeling. It was so much better than his very first hit of heroin, and he couldn't believe that he had ever let this drug get away from him. To Benji, performing live, completely clean, in front of a packed stadium felt like the greatest high in the world. He only wished it could last all night long. It felt so good while he was out there though, and the crowd's response during his solos on “Slave For Your Love” and “Rev Your Engine” meant so much. And when they got to the band introductions near the end of the show, Otis' words shocked him just as much as the crowd's reaction.

  Otis introduced them all, just as he did at the end of every concert, right before their final numbers. While the band played softly in the background, Otis took center stage as he said, “Los Angeles, I want to thank you for coming out tonight. You've been an incredible audience. You always show us so much love when we play here at home!” He waited for their cheers to die down before he continued, saying, “I want to introduce you to the boys. Beating on those skins back there is the one and only Buzzy West. Give it up for him, ladies and gentlemen!”

  The crowd cheered as Buz played a brief solo for them. And when they quieted down again, Otis continued.

  “On the rhythm guitar over here,” he said, pointing to his right. “The incomparable Mr. Cory Dutton!” More cheers and shouts from the audience as Cory raised both his arms and waved to the packed house. And Benji frowned slightly, mildly curious at the seemingly random order of O's introductions. Typically, the order was for his intro to follow Buzzy's, and then Cory, and then Noah.

  When the crowd quieted down once more, Otis continued as he sauntered over to his left. “Ladies,” he called out to them with a sly smile. And the wild screams began before he even reached his destination. He placed his hand on Noah's shoulder as he jokingly said, “This is my ugly little brother right here.” His voice rose to be heard over the crazy shrieks and whistles as he said, “The baddest fucking lead guitarist on the planet! Noah Ivory!” The decibel level in the stadium rose greatly from the screams of the females in attendance as Noah blew kisses to all of them, and then he tossed out a few guitar picks to the frenzied crowd.