“Hey,” Rick said softly. “You know, I'm sorry about all of that. It's just that, well, I'm a little burned out is all. You have to understand that this industry isn't exactly easy on the people that actually make the music. We get treated like animals that do nothing but make other people money. The Collective was supposed to be something that actually cared about the musicians, but that hasn't turned out like I thought it would. I guess I wasn't really sure how it would turn out, but when I signed on—fuck, it seems like years ago now—I had no idea that they would be aggressively running things like they are now.”
The woman looked down at her drink then up at Rick.
“I'm sorry things have gotten off to a rough start,” she said. “My name is Jen, and I'm your personal manager. I think you might have been told I'm the tour manager and that we were going to speak before the show—at least that's what I sussed out of the emails I read. So let me start with an apology.”
She stopped and took a long drink of her water.
“Well all right then,” Rick said. “So my days with the Collective are officially numbered. There is pretty much no fucking way I'm sticking around with these assholes if this is how they tell me about meetings.”
Jen nodded.
“I'm also here to tell you that the next tour starts in three days. That's the reason that they had this meeting take place two hours before the gig actually kicks off. They didn't want you to lose your cool in front of a bunch of people. And if you don't do the gig or the tour, I lose my job. Not that that really matters to you, I completely and totally understand that you aren't really going to care that I lose my job when my job can't exist without your job. It isn't your thing to care about your intern’s job. It's your--”
“Wait, what?” Rick interjected. “So I have a fucking intern now? The fucking Collective, full of people that are the most punk rock, like, ever, have forced a fucking intern on me.”
Rick finished his drink and stood up.
“Listen, lady,” he said. “I'm sure that they gave you some kind of song and dance when they hired you. But even if they're paying you, being an intern in the music industry is fucking shitty. Like, way shitty. I don't want you to waste your life looking after a bunch of people that probably shouldn't be allowed out of the house, much less on a stage to be worshiped by a bunch of drooling zombie fans.”
Rick pulled a few dollar bills out of his pocket and placed them by his drink. He quickly registered that Jen was surprised that he was tipping so heavily. Everyone was always surprised that he tipped heavily. It was kind of annoying, but not nearly as annoying as the Collective hiring what amounted to a personal assistant or nanny to look after him without even bothering to consult him first. It was the kind of thing that just didn't fly with Rick at all.
“I'm fucking out of here,” he said. “You can try and follow me to convince me otherwise, but it probably won't work. Not that you won't have time. Because I don't have a car, I have to walk my ass all the way across town. Do you have any idea how not fun that is for me? So not only did I get jerked around today, but I'm being forced to exercise? Do you have any idea how much punk rockers hate being healthy?”
With that, Rick turned and left. Tod nodded at him as he did, a faint smile on his lips. Tod must have heard the whole thing, and that was fine with Rick. Let Tod tell the rest of his fucking jerk off band mates that were part of this little set up know how badly he reacted to the whole thing. Let the fucking bartender tell the rest of the band how badly this had all gone. As he flung the door open, Rick felt free for the first time in a very long time.
Chapter 4
As Jen watched Rick storm out of the bar, she couldn't help but feel her heart sink. What was she supposed to do now? There was no way she'd be able to talk Rick back into the whole doing the gig today thing along with doing the tour in a few days. Or could she?
“If you are going to try to talk him into it maybe you should follow him home,” Tod said. “I mean, it isn't really that far anyway. He was just saying that shit to be dramatic. It's maybe a twenty-minute walk. He just always takes the bus so he assumes it actually takes forever to make it down here.”
Jen nodded, paid her tab, and headed toward the door.
“Wait a second,” she said. “Do you happen to know where he lives?”
The bartender, Tod, who she'd known for years, looked hesitant. That wasn't something that she was used to seeing. Normally people were quick to trust her. It made her wonder if Rick was the kind of guy that was not only a bad boy but also kind of dangerous.
“Will I be all right to go and drop in on him?” she asked. “I want to get there first and be waiting on the steps kind of thing. Maybe I'll bring some booze or something.”
Tod thought about it for a second.
“You know what, fuck it, I'll tell you where he lives,” Tod said, reaching for a napkin to write on. “Why the fuck wouldn't I tell you? It's not like you're going to kill him or anything. And he isn't going to get crazy or anything like that. And also, I'll tell you something else. But, you aren't going to like to hear it. So maybe you'd just better find out on your own.”
Jen raised an eyebrow.
“How about you just tell me?” she asked.
“All right,” Tod said. “I'm pretty sure the event is going to be moved to tomorrow. All the people that were going to attend are hung up on the fact that there is a solidarity protest with the Black Lives Matter movement going on at the same time and the promoters are going to move it so that it isn't a bust. Since the band pretty much doesn't have shit going on anyway, it shouldn't be a big deal.”
“How do you know this?” Jen asked.
“Easy,” Tod said. “I do all the booking for this place.”
Jen mentally kicked herself for forgetting that you never knew who was really running the shows behind the scenes in the music industry. What a rookie mistake.
“Don't worry, I'm not offended that you didn't know that I'm the dude running things here. I don't put on airs like most people. I just show up, clock in, do my job, and I guess I also give out peoples' personal information when I shouldn't.”
Tod handed her the napkin and she was off.
Chapter 5
The trip to Rick's place wasn't that long at all. He had been exaggerating a little bit when he'd said that it was all the way on the other side of town. When Jen pulled up to his spot, she realized that he did live in what many people would call the “hood,” although it wasn't that bad. Jen used to live around the same area, and although you couldn't walk around at night without worrying about your safety, it wasn't like people broke into peoples' car on the regular.
It took Jen awhile to figure out that the external staircase leading up to the second story was the way into Rick's apartment. Jen sat on the first step and looked down the street in the direction that Rick would be coming from. She hoped that by the time he got to his place, and to her, that he would have cooled off enough to realize that it was in everyone's best interest if he just did the gig the next day and the tour. She wondered if he would tell her that she couldn't go with him on the tour—although it really hadn't been nailed down if she would be going with the band. The whole thing hadn't been that nailed down. Except for the money, which Jen had been paid up front. So that was nice. Not that the money had really been all that much, but it was still nice to get it up front so there wasn't the whole uncertainty about getting it that she'd felt so many times before.
Before too long she saw a figure that looked like it could be Rick walking down the street with its hands crammed into its front pockets and its face looking at the ground. Rick was a good looking guy, and Jen found herself thinking about him that way even though she'd told herself going into it that she wasn't going to crush on him at all. But it was hard not to, now that she knew that he wasn't just playing the tortured artist card to play it, but was actually living in a dive in a shady part of town. There was something to be said for the struggles that a working artist
faced in an industry that really only wanted to use them up. Even the Collective wanted to use Rick for their own ends, even though that flew in the face of everything they were supposed to stand for.
Jen tried to ready herself as she saw Rick walk closer and closer down the street. It was one thing to think that she was ready to face him and talk to him, it was another thing entirely to actually be ready to face him and talk to him. Maybe he'd be super pissed that she'd come to his house to speak with him. Or maybe he wouldn't. She'd just have to wait and find out, but she wouldn't have to wait long.
Chapter 6
Rick couldn't help but think how he shouldn't have gotten out of bed that morning. There were other things he could have done, and sleep would have been a good choice. He needed to figure out where his life was heading. Obviously this whole music industry forever thing wasn't going the way that he'd hoped. He was willing to put in his fair share of the work, but he wasn't willing to sacrifice every little bit of his chance at some kind of happiness that didn't include pills or the bottle. Because that's where things were headed with a lot of the rest of the band guys he knew, including those in his own band. Guys would keep telling themselves that it was all right they were still hanging out with and fucking women half their age while nursing a pretty serious pill habit, along with all kinds of other stuff going on in the background that would make their mothers' blush.
Rick shook his head as he walked, looking down at sidewalk below him. All of the cracks reminded him that there was much to life going on underneath the surface, and much which he had no control over. But there were some things that he did have control over, and those were the things that he wanted to keep his mind on. So he thought about what he was going to say to the music Collective about skipping the gig that night, and maybe not even going on tour. On tour? Was he even really considering it? There just wasn't room in his life for a tour at the moment. He needed to find someone to be with, someone he could share his time with, someone he could share his heart with. That someone was going to be hard to find. It wasn't like people like that just fell into your life. He wasn't going to just walk home and find the girl of his dreams sitting on the steps to his fucked up apartment. But just when he was about to mount the stairs to head up to his apartment a voice scared him.
“Hey, Rick.”
It was the girl from the bar. What had her name been? Jen. That's right. Jen. Damn, she was a looker. But besides that he didn't know anything else about her except that it was her job to convince him to go on the tour and to do the gig. What a shitty job. In a way, he felt bad for her, the way that things weren't going to work out the way she wanted. The people that hired her had most likely filled her head with all kinds of nonsense about what would happen once she was part of the “cool kids club,” or on the inside of the music industry. But truth be told the inside wasn't the place you really wanted to be. That was something Rick was learning and relearning the hard way. Where you really wanted to be was running the label, the people who told other people what to do and got most of the money. That seemed simple enough for anyone to understand. Maybe Jen would understand if he explained it.
“Hey,” Rick said back to her. “You know, we should probably have a chat about what's going on. Would you like to follow me up to my apartment? We can sit and chat at length up there. But there are a bunch of bugs, like roaches and other pests. I'm gone most of the time on tour so I don't really get to spend the time this place needs to not suck. But the rent is the right price, so I'm not moving anytime soon.”
Rick moved up the stairs swiftly, and Jen followed. Rick looked behind him once before he reached the door to find Jen clinging to the side rail for dear life as the steps swung in the breeze. It did take a little getting used to, the way the steps weren't nailed to the side of the house. Rick had brought it up to the landlord time and time again but he never really seemed that concerned. It was probably hard to get really concerned about someone that was never around anymore. Luckily Jen righted herself and continued up the stairs without a problem, and Rick fumbled the key into the lock like he usually did. There were still the same problems with the door that never seemed to get addressed, like how it kind of stuck for a second.
“So this is where I live!” Rick said.
The mock enthusiasm didn't seem to be lost on Jen as Rick watched her survey the wreck that was his apartment. Somehow it looked even worse than it had the day before, and that was really saying something. While he'd been at the venue, some mice had drug something out from under the fridge, or out of cupboard, and now a bunch of little bugs were writhing all over it as they gobbled down as much as they could. It was strange to think that his apartment was part of the ecosystem that went on outside of the apartment. Most people would have freaked out that there were actual things living in the same place they were. Rick wasn't sure how he felt about it, he realized as he sat down at the small table. Jen sat down hesitantly across from him as if she wasn't sure if she'd find the chair hot, or the table sticky. Rick got a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“So, ah, Rick,” Jen said. “I've got good news. Or what could be good news. The gig tonight has been moved to tomorrow, so potentially, if you wanted to, you could still go and do it. I mean, if you don't want to do the tour, the gig is for a good cause.”
“What cause,” Rick said. His voice held a dry note of sarcasm.
“Youth homes,” she said sharply.
“Seems like every gig I do is for youth homes,” Rick said. “Every charity gig that is. Maybe I should have a couple of them for my own home, you know what I mean?”
Rick could tell that Jen was feeling backed into a corner, but didn't really care. Maybe she should feel backed into a corner, it's how he felt most of the time.
“Look around,” Rick continued. “Should I do a gig to get the mice a new place? How about these bugs? There is just so much living under my roof I can't help but wonder if I'm running a home that isn't my own home. Like a bug house or some shit.”
Jen's shoulders seemed to collapse in a little bit and she sighed.
“All right, all right,” Rick said. “I can tone it down a little bit, but you are going to have to open your mind to the idea that the people running you around are really fucking you around. Have you even seen any money from them yet?”
“Sure I have,” Jen said. “I got paid for my first month up front.”
“Oh really?” Rick said. “Is that right? How so? Have you seen the money? Is it in your account?”
“No, they wrote me a check!” Jen exclaimed.
“Have you deposited it?” Rick said.
Jen's face scrunched up, making her look even more cute. She really was a super cute girl. Rick realized that he needed to check himself if he wanted to have a chance with her. Did he want to have a chance with Jen? He wasn't sure, but it suddenly occurred to him that he wasn't sure. Before he hadn't known that it was even an option that he might interested in.
“So it's like this,” Rick said. “The people that I work for, the Collective or whatever the fuck you want to call them, they aren't on the up and up. Sure, they might not be as bad as some of the labels, and they might let me swear in my lyrics, but when it comes to my actual quality of life.”
Jen looked like she was listening, but she kept glancing over whatever was on the floor. Rick wanted to be sure she understood.
“When was the last time anyone asked, 'Hey, you know what? I think that there might be something up with Rick? He doesn't seem happy at all.' Has anyone ever asked that around you?”
Jen thought for a second, and Rick thought for sure that she was going to say some cop out answer that would somehow, in her mind, absolve her of any culpability.
“No, I haven't,” she finally answered.
“And how long have you been working for them?” Rick asked.
“About a week.”
Rick laughed.
“And you haven't put that check in the bank? Damn girl, you really are running aroun
d with your head in the clouds. You have to realize that a lot of these people aren't really nice people. They don't care about anything but money. How much of the gig tomorrow is even going to the youth homes?”
Jen didn't know. They got to talking about the city and all of the problems that plagued it. They lived in a big metropolis so there were plenty of problems to go around. There was homelessness, and the city officials were corrupt. It was a little eery to hear Jen align with all of his political ideas. Not often Rick met a female that was on top of things like he was when it came to politics—and when he thought that Rick realized what a misogynist he was turning into hanging out with music industry people all the time. Rick shared these thoughts with Jen, and she nodded listening. She seemed like a good person, someone who genuinely wanted to do the right thing. It was hard to find people like that anymore, not to mention how stunningly good looking she was. Crazy to think that she really had been sitting on his front steps when he'd been thinking about how people like her won't just going to show up. Maybe he was reading her all wrong, though. That was probably it, Rick cynical thought to himself, he was probably jumping the gun on this one.
But the conversation continued and they kept on agreeing on things, and sometimes they would just outright disagree, present what each of them thought, and move on. It wasn't an impasse like it was between other people. Rick didn't expect everyone to agree with what he thought, and it seemed like Jen didn't think that way either. So they ended up talking long into the evening until all of the stars were out and the street lights on. Jen talked about leaving, but Rick told her she could stay if she wanted. He didn't have a couch, but they could share the bed.
Backstage Demands Page 2
