“Just an expression Silas, just an expression.”
“So you are a nurse then?”
“Paramedic actually.”
“So…you had a tough day at the hospital then?”
“It was a hellish one actually.”
He pulls up a stool next to mine, forgetting about his remark about keeping a stool’s distance between us. As I feel the hairs on my arm standing attention I find myself wishing he wasn’t in such close proximity. I take a long pull on my beer like I’m trying to wash him away; or at least the effects of him. That’s what I really cannot handle, how he makes my body respond.
“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks. “Or are you planning on just drinking it away?”
For an answer I take another long drink.
“By the look on your face June, I don’t think this place has enough alcohol in it to wash away whatever it is you’ve seen tonight.”
“Yeah…Sure would be nice if I could just un-see some things. It’d make my life a whole lot easier.”
“What are you trying to un-see tonight?”
He’s not going to shut up is he? I’m not one to try to relive the day and I really don’t intend on doing that now. On the other hand, maybe if I give him just a snippet, he’ll be satisfied that he has helped me in some way, and he’ll just leave.
~~~
At least that’s what I had intended to do, but when I’m still talking an hour later I realize he got his way after all.
I don’t know what it was that triggered my current case of diarrhea of the mouth, but I just can’t seem to shut up. Maybe it’s the way he looks at me with those compassionate emerald eyes, or the soft cadence of his voice as he commiserates with me the anguish of the lives we lost today, beginning with that baby whose name will forever be burned into my brain; Seamus. He wasn’t on this earth very long but I suspect the memory of him is going to be around for a lot longer.
I’m so lost in the tragedy of the day that I don’t realize it at first when his hand takes mine. When it finally registers, my voice falters and I completely lose my train of thought.
He pretends he doesn’t notice, and waits for me to continue. When I finally look up from my grieving heart I notice the long line of empty glasses in front of me, and his single beer, untouched. I also realize for the first time tonight that my head is buzzing along pleasantly.
His stool protests noisily as he scoots it closer to mine; our shoulders are touching now. He’s got a short sleeved tee shirt on despite the chill in the air tonight, and I can feel the heat of his body through the sweater I have on.
My earlier need to spew forth the day's traumas have receded and I find myself babbling on about my profession and how short-lived most people’s careers are, when I realize my body has sorta tucked itself into his now.
I’m half off my stool and partially sitting on his. His muscular thighs are straddling mine and I can feel his powerful shoulders curve around mine. My left hand remains in his, and his right hand is stroking my right arm; my hand still clutches a fresh, untouched beer.
Now that I am sufficiently distracted from my long soliloquy, my body has come alive. I feel like I’m a hundred fifteen pound mass of nerves all singing the praises of Silas. I feel all warm and gushy inside, safe, secure, and…cared for. That’s not the right word for it, but I can’t think of anything else.
Actually that’s a lie. The first word that popped into my head, before cared, was love. Surely he can’t love me! He doesn’t know me. Well, after my two hour soul's confession, he probably knows me better than my own family does. But not love. It’s probably that I really have no idea what love is, or what it even feels like so I must confuse care for love. That’s it.
“You stopped talking.”
He sounds surprised. “Yeah…guess I kinda ran out of steam.”
Now that I’m acutely aware of him and all the intimate places that his body is touching mine, I don’t think I can string together more than a dozen words. I feel captive to him, and at the same time, it feels safe. It feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Then he kisses me. Well, sort of. I can feel his lips on the back of my neck, and his warm breath is spreading down my neck, across my shoulders and making its way over my breasts. I feel my nipples stiffen in response. It’s like my entire body is being blanketed with his breath and it’s the warmest, safest, and most erotic thing I have ever felt.
Suddenly I have to move. I feel like if I stay here, tucked into his body for one more second I’m gonna either explode or jump his bones. I just can’t sit here and do nothing; not the way he’s making me feel.
Then Brand pops into my mind! Here I am, in a bar cozying up to the enemy while my real boyfriend lies in a coma in the very hospital where I work. What the hell is wrong with me?
I jump up, smacking my head underneath his chin. I can actually hear his teeth clacking together. He goes stumbling backwards, and for a minute I think he’s going to remain on his feet. At least I think that up until the moment he doesn’t and he’s flat on his back with a look of complete shock registering on his handsome face.
I know I should help him up. Or at least say something. Instead I just look at him for a moment, then drop a handful of cash on the bar and run for the exit.
As the door is closing behind me I cannot help but look back one time. He is still flat on his back, rubbing his chin and looking at me dumbfounded.
What a night.
Chapter Nine
Revelations
I have always thought of myself as a good person. I believe my parents brought me up right. They instilled in me values that I have always held fast to. Up until now that is.
I'm learning something about myself over these last few days. They say every man/woman has his/her price and it would appear mine has not been set very high.
Tomorrow night I’m going to interview the band, well, Silas and Stewart mostly, so I can find the dirt on their new guitarist. All for my new boyfriend who is still lying in a medically induced coma, recovering from a brutal attack while on assignment in Oakland.
It kills me that the band and their manager are so nice. They are actually good people. But I have to think about Brand. I have no future with Silas or Fringe. I'm also beginning to realize maybe I’m not really a Lunatic. Maybe I’m just a girl who likes metal and they’re my favorite band at the moment; nothing more.
When I think of my fellow Lunatics, there’s not one I can think of that would even dream of selling out the band, not for love or money...They are the true Lunatics.
Gabby, she's a Lunatic through and through. I’m not sure she knows what I’m really up to and it’s getting hard to be around her knowing what I am about to do. We’ve been friends a long time though and I have to hope our friendship will survive this little hiccup.
I just completed a night shift at the hospital and I’m heading down to San Diego for three shows and then over to Los Angeles for four more, and then I'm throwing in the towel. Gabby will continue to follow them but I’m going to go back to work and watch over Brand. If all goes well they’ll be taking him off the respirator and bringing him out of the coma in as little as two weeks.
I want to be there for that. He needs someone at his side as he apparently has no family around. So far that I know of, only a couple friends have showed up to see him, but no family.
It’s about an 8 hour drive to San Diego and it’s giving me way too much time in my head. I really should have just ridden with Gabby and then flown back. It’s not like it would have cost me much for the hour plane ride. Hindsight.
Now not only am I bored to death, I’m getting really tired. I’m approaching the grapevine, a long mountain pass that is a long assent on this side followed by a steep short decent on the other side of the mountains. Many a car has overheated going up, and many a truck has lost its brakes going down the steep 5000ft decent. After that, if I don’t find a Starbucks I’m gonna be in serious trouble.
The long dr
ive doesn’t help my injuries either. I ended up getting checked out at my hospital and as it turns out, I have two bruised ribs! So much for the spirit of community that we Lunatics are supposed to share. I have no idea who was responsible for the attacks and neither does Gabby. It was still pretty dark and there were a lot of people around.
Gabby said it looked like there were four or five people but she couldn’t be sure. What she was sure of is that nobody rushed to my aid. I would have been seriously hurt if it had not been for the band’s security. They finally stepped in and rescued me and brought me backstage where they called in the paramedics assigned to the venue.
~~~
I get to our hotel first and check in at 6:30pm. I am so tired I just flop on the bed and crash. Two hours later my phone wakes me up. It’s Gabby.
“What’s up Gabbs?”
“Not much. Whatcha doing”
“Nothing, I was so tired I crashed out until you just woke me up. I desperately needed that nap. What are you doing? You must be close by now, right?”
“I actually took a nap too.”
“Couldn’t find that Starbucks huh?”
“Oh I found it, alright. I just got tired of pounding on your door so I took a nap.”
“What?” I jump up off the bed and make a mad charge for the door. I open it and Gabby is sitting there on her bags looking none too happy.
“Why didn’t you tell the manager to just let you in?”
“I did, but he said he wasn’t about to let a stranger into a girls room, especially when she's alone.”
“He could have called me at least,” I say. There is a phone in the room and I’m pretty sure it works.”
“Yeah he tried that. A dozen times. Man when you conk out, you conk out. Now are you gonna let me come in or not?”
“Oh yeah, let me help you with your bags.”
Ten minutes later we’re both crashed out on our beds. I feel like I can sleep all the way until the concert tomorrow evening. We spend the next hour talking about the upcoming show, about if my attackers are going to be there or not, and about Brand of course.
She thinks he’s going to make a full recovery. I’m not so sure. He looks really bad. It’s been almost a week since the attack and he looks worse than the day he came in to the hospital. At least it seems like that to me, even though I haven't been to see him in a while.
"When's the last time you visited him?" Gabby asks.
"Hmm dunno, guess it's been a few days." I manage.
Since I just don’t feel like talking about why I’m too paranoid to visit Brand I end up giving some pretty thin excuses and I’m pretty sure she’s not buying it, even though she doesn’t say anything. After a while we just get talked out, and when Gabby starts snoring mid-sentence I give up and decide to roll over and go to sleep too.
I guess we were both pretty tired, because we don't wake up until almost ten the next morning. Good thing we have the all access passes. No point getting up at the ass crack of dawn to go to Fringe shows anymore.
~~~
We arrive around 5pm, and thirty minutes later we’re hanging around the concourse checking out all the cool merchandise for sale. We get word that the doors are going to open at 6:45, so at 6:30 we find a spot in the front towards the right, so we can watch Silas.
Gabby and I look around nervously as the rest of our fellow Lunatics start filling up the general admission section. Pretty soon I’m seeing hostile looks in every face I see and I don’t know if I’m just imagining it or if there’s a lot of people pissed off at me. Lunatics do talk way too much, and gossip spreads fast.
By the time the lights go out I am totally exhausted and thoroughly paranoid from my hyper vigilance and I’m pretty sure Gabby’s feeling the same. It’s really too bad because with these passes we should be having the time of our lives but instead we’re stressed out.
Something weird is going on with the band tonight. After the first few riffs of Straight Jacket the spot light that was trained on Silas goes dark and doesn’t return for the entire song. Now I’m no electrician or lighting expert but I’m pretty sure some other light could have taken over the, shine on Silas, duties. And as if that isn’t weird enough, during Bound, right when Silas is going to break into this killer instrumental part, his amp just up and cuts out!
He doesn’t totally lose it, but it cuts in and out so much that it makes his guitar solo sound like he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. If I didn’t know better I’d say someone’s trying to sabotage him. Pretty much during the entire show the spot light just can’t find Silas, and his amp proves to be totally unreliable, even after they work on it.
Finally during the fourth song, Silas up and leaves the stage. He just throws his guitar on the stage and stomps off. Then an anonymous guy walks out on the stage, plugs in his guitar, and finishes the show in Sam’s spot. And of course the spotlight works just fine now.
Something is really wrong tonight. I’m not sure why I’m so concerned. Feuds like this happen all the time in metal bands; it goes with the territory. Most end up fighting it out backstage after the show and everybody’s fine. They just did a pretty major diss on Silas tonight and I’m not so sure this one’s going to blow over so easily. I can’t wait to get back stage and find out what’s going on.
As we’re about to go find the backstage entrance, one of the security guys that stands between the crowd and the stage hails me and Gabby.
“You June?” He asks.
“Yeah…” I reply a bit startled.
“I was given your picture and orders to find you and your friend by the time the show was over. I’m to escort you two backstage. We don’t want a repeat performance of what happened in San Jose.”
I am completely bowled over! This is like, red carpet treatment, if there ever was a red carpet at a metal show. I also feel incredibly guilty. I’m like a wolf in sheep's clothing. If tonight is any indication of things with Silas, it would seem that someone must have found some dirt on him. I’m guessing this all has something to do with Hammer and Marcus. I wouldn’t put anything that happened tonight past those two.
Gabby and I follow the guard to the lounge backstage. The guard opens the door and to my surprise, it looks like a normal backstage party. I really expected to see some kind of heated argument between Silas and Hammer. Then I realize why everyone’s so calm. Silas isn’t even here; at least for now. Hammer, Marcus, and Lance are there as well as Silas’s replacement, whoever he is. I guess Silas must have decided to go somewhere else and cool off.
I decide to approach Hammer and Marcus and get their take on what happened tonight.
“Hey uh Marcus, I’m-”
“I know who you are doll." Marcus says. "What’d you think of the show?”
“You mean other than those weird lighting and amp problems, how did I like the show?” I say.
“What problems?" Hammer cuts in. "I wasn’t aware of any problems. Marcus, you see any problems tonight?”
“You mean other than Silas’s amateurish guitar playing?” Marcus asks. When Hammer nods, he continues. “No, everything went off without a hitch.”
“Really? Cause it looks like Silas just quit. Or you forced him out-”
“No one’s forcing anybody to do anything,” remarks Marcus. “Good thing my buddy from Bloodstone was here to jump in and finish the show. That coulda been embarrassing.”
These guys are infuriating! They won’t even admit something went wrong tonight. “Hey, I’m no idiot. I know you guys were messing with Silas tonight.”
“Messing? How could we have been messing with him? We were on stage doing our parts. Did you see us doing anything? I shake my head. “Yeah, I thought not.”
“You could've instructed your sound and lights guys to screw with Silas. All you had to do was to give the word and it was done.”
“What the hell do you care anyway?” Marcus asks.
“Look, I’m finishing that story for my friend Brand who’s in the hospital
so I want to know what is going on. I’m kinda doing a documentary about Fringe’s rise to the top so I need to know what’s really going on around here.”
“How do I know you’re not going to write a bunch of crap to make us look bad?” Lance asks, as he joins the conversation.
“Because I need you guys to like sign off on it so the magazine will know that I didn’t just make up bunch of stuff just to get published.” It’s a lie, but I had to do something to get the real story. Besides, for all I know, that may be their policy.
“Alright. We’ll tell you what’s going on. Obviously you’re a smart girl or you wouldn’t have noticed it so we might as well tell you so our story is accurate.”
I pull out my phone to record the conversation. “Okay if I tape this?” I’m taking a big chance here, but there’s no way I’m going to remember half of this stuff. This isn’t my profession so I’m likely to forget a lot.
After a little debate they finally allow me to record. I hit the record button and the dirt just comes spilling out.
Hammer starts first. “Look, Silas wasn’t our number one pick when it came to finding a new guitarist-”
“Why not, he seems very capable.” I cut in.
“Oh he’s a good guitarist and all, it's just that he doesn’t really fit with the band’s image. He’s too clean cut, refined I guess. Now Myles, he is the quintessential metal guitarist. He’d get hammered on stage and just throw himself into the mosh pit; back when arenas allowed them that is. Now you just get a bunch of pansy-ass fans who call themselves Lunatics and if you ask me, they’re not lunatic enough. At least not for a metal band’s fan base.”
“No way! We’re a great fan base and we’re hardcore.” Gabby steps in.
“Really?" Marcus asks. "Ever seen Hatebreed?”
“No.” She admits.
“Shadows Fall?”
“Nope.” Gabby and I both say in unison.
“Machinehead, Slipnot, Mushroomhead, Suicide, Love Kill?” Hammer asks.
“Nope, nope, no, nah, and not yet.” I say.
“Ever been in a mosh pit?”
Broken Strings (A Rock Star Novel) Page 9
