We grabbed our bags from the backseat and trudged into the terminal. Checking in for our flight was easy, but the wait for security took forever. When we finally got to our gate, I was already tired of being here, and it’d only been an hour. True and Jericho sat together in one of the rows of seats lining the gate waiting area, and we strode over to them. At least we checked all our shit, so we didn’t have to carry around heavy-ass luggage.
Our brand new music manager strode across the concourse with his hand wrapped around a cup of coffee. Maddox found him a couple of months ago, and he just graduated college with his music business degree and was eager to test it out, which meant cheap help for us.
“You guys ready to set out on your first national tour?” Elijah asked, pushing the thick frames of his glasses back up his nose. His shirt was buttoned all the way up, and sometimes it made me laugh when I thought about how this clean-cut, buttoned-up guy represented our deviant asses. But somehow he made that shit work. Hiring him was already paying dividends.
We knew we needed a manager to take us to the next level when our single hit number one. Maddox set up a meeting, and we all agreed to give Elijah a shot. And he’d gone out and booked us the opening gig on the US tour for Spellbound.
Spellbound was one of my favorite bands, and they were fucking huge. Millions of screaming fans, millions of albums sold, and constant number one hits. Getting to open for them was about to catapult our names into the stratosphere. Everything was about to change for the second time in a year.
“It’s a four-hour flight to Dallas, and we’ll meet up with the guys from Spellbound and their team tonight at the stadium. Since we’re a last-minute replacement, there won’t be a lot of time for sound checks or anything before you guys take the stage tonight. Are you up for it?” Elijah eyed us all skeptically as he sipped his coffee and waited patiently for our response.
We exchanged glances, and then all nodded.
“You absolutely cannot fuck this up. This is your shot. Blow it, and you won’t get another one.” His lips pressed into a tight line.
“Back the fuck off, Elijah. We got it,” Jericho snapped, pulling a magazine out of the messenger bag he had leaning on the chair next to him.
We were all excited and fucking terrified in equal measure. Seeing my goals become a reality wasn’t as easy as I thought it’d be. It was a lot of fucking work and a lot of sleepless nights. And my stomach churned as I thought about standing front and center on that stage tonight in front of thousands of people.
Up until now, all our shows had been in front of hundreds, not thousands. As Elijah droned on about rules and expectations, I slipped earbuds in and turned on our album. I wanted to make sure I was ready tonight, and there was no chance of forgetting the lyrics. I’d make sure I didn’t fuck up tonight, and I could depend on the guys to do the same.
My fast heart rate slowed down as I lost myself in the lyrics I’d written.
Jerking, I punched out my hand without thinking when fingers tapped into my shoulder. I opened my eyes, realizing I must’ve dozed off. “Dude, what the fuck?” Maddox wheezed, rubbing his stomach where I knocked the wind out of him. “It’s time to get on the goddamn plane.”
He glared at me as he stalked toward the tunnel, and I dropped my phone into my pocket before following him. The other guys were handing their tickets over, and Maddox looked back at me with a glare as I stepped up behind him. “Next time I’m letting you miss the fucking plane,” he grumbled, handing his ticket to the attendant.
True had already taken the window seat, and Maddox slipped into the aisle. I held my middle finger in front of his face as I shoved past him and dropped into the fucking middle. Maddox smiled smugly at me, and I curled my hand into a fist, wanting to bury it in his face.
Elijah glared at me from where he sat next to Jericho across the aisle. He shook his head subtly before pulling out a magazine and ignoring us. I blew out a breath, and True nudged me with his elbow. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just tempted to punch Maddox in the face.”
“I’d like to see you try, dickface,” Maddox chimed in, and I rolled my eyes.
When I got overwhelmed, my instinct was almost always violent. Maddox, he liked to fuck with people. He could sure as fuck be brutal, too, but the shit-talking always came first. True was the peacemaker, and he watched us both. “You both need to knock your shit off. Tonight’s too important,” he reminded us.
“Thanks, Elijah,” I murmured, letting my head fall against the seatback.
True narrowed his eyes. “First, fuck you. Second, Elijah’s right. We have to put on the best show we’ve ever done tonight. But we’ve been busting our assess for three years for this moment. We’re ready.”
“We know, T. We’re just blowing off some steam.” Maddox dug his phone out of his pocket. “I fucking hate airplane mode. Like my goddamn cell phone is going to crash the plane.”
I followed his lead before slipping my headphones back into my ears and starting a playlist. None of us had been getting much sleep over the past couple of months, so I planned on napping for as much of this ride as possible.
True’s shoulder slammed into mine as the plane jerked, and my eyes flew open. My stomach dropped, and my heart raced as I ripped the headphones out of my ears. “What the fuck was that?”
Maddox chuckled next to me. “We’re crashing.”
This time I did punch him, right in the shoulder, but he was lucky it wasn’t his balls. All he did was laugh harder.
“We landed,” True explained, pulling his own set of headphones out of his ears.
Relaxing back into the seat, I yawned and stretched my arms overhead as the plane taxied toward our gate, and my heart slowed down to non-heart attack levels. We gathered our shit and filed off as soon as we could, huddling together at the gate. “I hired us a driver, so we’ll hit up baggage claim and then find him. He’ll take us straight to the stadium so you can get into soundcheck,” Elijah outlined.
“And when will we get the chance to eat? I’m fucking starving,” Jericho asked, rubbing his flat stomach.
We all agreed, and Elijah checked his phone. “They’ll have food for you at the stadium.”
We followed him through the airport and grabbed our luggage, loading it into the back of the SUV he hired. As the driver pulled away from the curb, Elijah turned back to us from where he sat in the passenger seat. He passed back lanyards with passes hanging from them. “I don’t know if you’ll need these or not, but until the staff gets to know you, it’s better to wear them.” He slipped his over his head, and we all followed his lead.
“When we get there, I’ll have someone handle getting your bags onto your bus. You guys need to get to soundcheck. We’re already cutting it close on time, so go straight there. I’ll make sure you have food ready as soon as you’re done.”
My heart rate picked up the closer we drove toward the stadium. I could see it in the distance now and holy fuck, this was actually happening. I glanced at True, and he was focused intently on Elijah. Maddox was leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed, but based on the tension in his shoulders, he was awake and listening too. Jericho was watching me, and I lifted my eyebrow. He shook his head and focused back on Elijah.
Maybe he thought I’d fuck up tonight, but I wouldn’t. I’d prepared my whole life for this moment. It was too important not to take seriously.
“...shortened soundcheck, and then you’ll have a couple of hours on the bus to get ready before you take the stage.” I tuned back into Elijah, paying attention to the last bit of his spiel. I had to admit the dude was good at his job.
We pulled up to the stadium and rushed inside. “Your instruments were shipped here yesterday, so they’ll be on stage when you get in there,” Elijah explained as he practically jogged next to us.
“We’ll be fine, Eli. Stop worrying,” I reached over and patted him on the cheek as we rounded the last corner backstage. “We’re ready for this.”
He left us there as the four of us climbed the stairs and walked out onto the stage. Roadies and sound equipment guys were moving things around the stage, and we took a second to figure out where everything was. Jericho dropped onto the stool behind his drums, grabbing the set of sticks left there for him.
True and Maddox picked up their instruments, slinging them across their bodies, and I grabbed the microphone. We played a little of most of the songs in our set, stopping so the sound engineer could make adjustments. My energy was seriously fucking lacking after not eating anything since last night, and I could tell the guys were the same. We needed to fix that shit and fast in the next couple of hours because no fucking way could we perform tonight with less than high energy.
When we finished, we dragged our assess to the tour bus that would be our home for the next couple of months. Climbing on board, I looked around, and the fucking place was nicer than my apartment back in LA had been. I could make this work.
We dropped into the booth around the communal table, which thank fuck was full of food. We didn’t speak as we stuffed our faces, and it wasn’t until we were all full that we leaned back and let what just happened sink in.
“Did you see the size of that fucking stadium?” Jericho wondered, sipping his orange juice.
“Yeah, tonight’s going to be intense,” True agreed, but excitement filled his eyes. None of the guys looked afraid or nervous. Maybe we should’ve been, considering what tonight meant and how fucking intense it was about to get playing our music in front of thousands of people. If we fucked up, there was no do-over. We couldn’t edit it out or rewind and try again. It was out there, in real-time, for people to judge.
Whether they loved us or hated us was out of our control. All we could do was put on the best show we were capable of and hope for the best. Which meant we had to enjoy the fuck out of every last second in case this was the last time.
I refused to believe this would be the last time.
But I was still determined as hell to commit every second of this experience to memory.
We spent the next couple of hours in our own little bubble, unpacking, showering, getting ready. This wasn’t a small-time production, and it came with all the perks of a multi-million dollar tour. We had a stylist who we met backstage an hour before the show, and we talked her through our personal style. She dressed us for the stage, and when we finished, there were only a couple of minutes left until showtime.
The four of us huddled together just offstage, and I looked each one of my brothers in the eye. “We’re going to fucking kill this show. This is only the beginning for us.”
“That’s fucking right,” Maddox agreed.
“No matter what happens, I’m glad it’s you guys on that stage with me tonight.” True moved a guitar pick between his fingers.
“Enough sappy shit, let’s play some fucking music!” Jericho boomed, and we all laughed before climbing the stairs and taking the stage.
The murmurs of the crowd quieted as we got into place. The energy in the stadium was electrified. Adrenaline buzzed through my veins as I brought the microphone to my lips and kicked off the show.
THE END
Continue with Zen’s story in Finding Zen on the next page…
Finding Zen Preview
Chapter One
Zen
Listen to the screams, man. Is there anything better?" My best friend True closed his eyes and let the distant crowd sounds wash over him. Even after ten years, every show was a fucking high for him. I wished I could say the same.
"I don't know. It's the same shit, different night," I replied with a yawn. The constant low roar of the sold-out crowd sounded like white noise to me. It used to pump me up before a show just like it did for True, but now it just blurred into the background of my consciousness. Lately, my mind wandered all over the fucking place, and the energy I used to get before a show just wasn't there anymore. True opened one blue eye and stared at me, his knowing smirk showing just a hint of a dimple.
True might be my best friend, but he wasn't into taking advantage of the perks that came along with being a rock god. He put on a good show in the media for the sake of his image, but he was more of the fall in love forever type. It was a huge secret, but he didn't like to fuck around like Maddox and me.
"C'mon, you're living the dream. Tell me you'd give this up." He opened his arms wide. "There's not a fucking chance you'd walk away and leave this behind no matter how cranky you are. Stop being such a downer." His other eye popped open, and he grabbed a bottle of water, drinking half of it in one gulp.
I rolled my eyes. "It's just gotten too fucking easy. There's no challenge, nothing to separate today from yesterday. How are you not bored?"
"Are you kidding? Being on stage playing our music for thousands of fans who scream the lyrics so loud we can barely hear ourselves isn't fun? Yeah, who'd ever want that?" His voice was laced with sarcasm as he shook his head.
The other members of my band, Shadow Phoenix, strolled into the room. A bass guitar was slung over Maddox's shoulder, and he wore usual fuck off glare. He was what chicks referred to as dark and brooding. Intense didn't even begin to describe him, but calling him a grade-A asshole came close. Right now, his deep brown eyes were hard and steely. Pre-performance jitters weren't a thing for Maddox. He went on stage fully prepared every night, even if he wasn't entirely sober when he did it.
Jericho rounded out our group of musically talented assholes. Somehow he managed to perform in front of people even though his social skills were severely lacking. He was so quiet that people mistook his silence for some sort of shyness, but he was really the biggest dick of us all. He didn't let anyone in except us. Of all of us, he always had the biggest crowd of women trying to get his attention, probably because he never gave it to them.
He was also the most talented drummer I'd ever met. His chin lifted in greeting to True and me before he went back to tapping out a rhythm only he could hear on his thigh.
The ground trembled underneath my feet as the fans impatiently waited for us to take the stage.
I glanced over at True, who slung his guitar across his chest. He grinned at me, and I knew he couldn't wait to hit the stage. True sucked up the energy the crowd gave off, feeding off it like he was a starving man. At the end of the night, he'd be bouncing off the goddamn walls, but he put on a hell of a show.
As for me? When I got up on stage and sang, I couldn't hide my emotions. Every lyric I wrote had meaning to my life or I wouldn't be able to write them. I connected with the words on a deep level, and that connection drew people into me like I was a fucking magnet. My stage presence was fucking legendary because of it, but people felt like they really knew me when they didn't. That was one part of fame no one ever told you about, how you could stand in a room full of people who knew every fact about your life but still feel completely alone like nobody really understood you.
I started down the long hall to the stage entrance, the guys following my lead. I glanced back at Maddox, then Jericho and True, raising my eyebrow. All three nodded back at me.
I stepped onto the platform and braced myself. Rising up through the floor of the stage, I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I pushed the swirling thoughts from my mind, and the music became my only focus. The audience bled energy, and I tapped into it like a vampire. Their excitement would fuel me for the next couple of hours. Despite how empty I felt, they deserved one hell of a show.
Feeling thousands of eyes on me had been unreal to me at the beginning. It had once been scary as fuck, the idea that I could mess up and let down so many people. I was long past the point where I broke out in a cold sweat, or my heart beat so hard I thought the audience could hear it through my mic. I was disconnected, empty and cold except when the lyrics flowed through me. I closed my eyes as I rose through the floor of the stage into the waiting darkness. The energy crackled in the stadium as people fidgeted in their seats.
I stood still as the platform settled into
a solid stage below my feet, gripping a microphone in my left hand and waiting for what would come next. In a few short seconds, the spotlight would find me like it always did, and the show would begin.
"Zen! Zen! Zen!" The crowd chanted my name as if I needed a bigger boost to my already healthy ego. Adrenaline used to crash through my body every time I stood in front of a crowd, but lately, I fell flat. I plastered a cocky smirk on my face anyway, my signature look, and stepped up to center stage. As soon as True's familiar guitar strum sounded out against the quiet darkness of the stadium, I raised the microphone to my lips and began the show.
The drumbeat pounded under my feet as I moved across the stage, my voice rising above the deafening screams of the crowd. Jericho's arms moved so fast he bounced on his stool, his almond eyes focused on the snare drum in front of him. He never missed a beat, keeping us all on the same page.
The climbing notes of True's wicked solo midway through our third song almost couldn't be heard over the shrieks of the audience. The crowd loved it when he did shit like that. They ate it up. My eyes found his, and he threw me a cocky grin. He knew what he was doing and was never more in his element than when he was on stage.
When I glanced at Maddox, his glare focused out into the abyss of the crowd, not settling on any one spot for long. He didn't bother looking my way.
I found my mind wandering, even as my body continued to perform, like muscle memory or some shit. I replayed, again and again, the highlight reel of my career through my memories. It wasn't every day a nobody like me rose up and became a rock legend at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. By all outside observation, I was living the fucking dream.
On my sixteenth birthday, my parents decided they'd done their job and were ready to move on without me. I got emancipated and moved to LA to pursue music. Back in the day, when I met up with the guys, the four of us were horny sixteen-year-old dudes who thought we were cool as shit. Somehow our music transformed from a way to get laid to a serious dream. Ten years ago, Jericho started a YouTube channel, and once we hit a million followers, the offers rolled in. We inked our record deal less than a week before graduation.
Shadow Phoenix: A Rock Star Romance Prequel Page 10
