by Amity Cross
“Sorry,” I mumbled, thoroughly embarrassed.
He frowned at me. “I didn’t mean to scare you. We’re here.”
I glanced out the window and saw we were in the lot behind the hotel we were booked in for the next couple of nights. The boys were already outside stretching.
Will slid out of the seat and held out his hand. I eyed him suspiciously and stood on my own.
“I don’t bite, you know,” he said. “Not unless you ask.”
When he didn’t move out of the way, I scowled. “What?”
“I don’t get you, Zoe.”
“What’s there to get?” I asked, silently praying that he’d move, and I wouldn’t have to push him. If I had to, I’d touch him, and where would that take me? Straight into the danger zone.
“You just seem uncomfortable.”
I shrugged.
“Why?”
I looked at him for a moment, blinking, put on the spot. “I guess… I don’t know what to talk about.”
He smiled at me. “There are plenty of things to talk about.”
“Well, I have no idea what to say. The idea bank is empty.”
He stood there for a moment too long, the awkward silence stretching into infinity. “Are you going to let me make it up to you?”
“Are you going to let me off?” I retorted.
He laughed wryly and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his eyes. Standing aside, he held out a hand, gesturing down the aisle. “After you.”
Not wasting a second more, I hightailed it off the bus and into the safety of the hotel foyer.
I’d really come to enjoy sound check. It was my quiet time. I know it sounded silly considering the noise level, but it allowed me to sit back and observe. I didn’t have to perform, I didn’t have to talk to anyone, and I didn’t have to put on a face. I could just watch. Sometimes, all of that wore me down. Typically, I was a shy person, and talking took it out of me emotionally, so I relished those small moments where I could just be.
I was watching the support band set up their gear from a step out in the venue. The house lights were up, which gave the place a whole different feel.
The support was a local indie outfit called Damages. Apparently, they had a song that had just been picked up by Absolute, the radio station that was first to pick up ours. I hadn’t had a chance to hear it yet, so I was looking forward to them playing it in their set tonight.
When they finished, I noticed two of the guys talking to each other furiously, and then they glanced over at me. A moment later, one of them jumped down from the stage and began to walk over. He looked younger than I was—maybe about twenty—tall and wiry with dark shaggy hair. He looked a bit nervous, staring at the ground rather than looking where he was going. It was a move I was well aquatinted with.
“Hey,” he said as he stopped by me, and I knew he was nervous. Totally didn’t have to be.
“Hi,” I said with a smile, knowing exactly how he felt. “I’m Zoe.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said with a laugh. “I’m Max. I play guitar and do vocals in Damages.”
“I saw you guys sound check. You’re pretty good.”
“Wow, really? Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“I don’t know if you do this, but we’d be stoked if you would sing a song with us tonight.”
“Oh,” I said, blinking in surprise. “What song? I guess it depends if I know it.”
He smiled obviously pleased I was considering it. “‘Future Starts Slow’ by The Kills. We’ve done it a couple of times, and people seem to like it, but I reckon it would sound better with a female vocal. Man and if you sang it with us…” He stopped mid-sentence, realizing he’d been babbling.
I was taken aback by how much he seemed to respect me. I mean, he wasn’t trying to crack onto me in the slightest. He was into my band.
“Sure.” I laughed, instantly liking him. “It’ll be great.”
“Yeah?” he exclaimed, eyes bright.
“Yeah. When do you do it in your set?”
“Second to last,” he said. “We had a single picked up on the radio that’s doing well, so we play that last.”
“Good call,” I agreed.
“We don’t do anything to change the tempo or key. It’s pretty faithful to the original. Will you be okay without rehearsing? I mean, it’s different with another band… I mean… Shit on it.”
I let out a loud laugh and shook my head. “I’m not offended. I don’t know how long you’ve been playing together, but we’re new at this, too. I love the song, so if you stick to it pretty faithfully as you said, it’ll be fine. I can wing it.”
He laughed, smacking his forehead with his palm. “God, I’m such an idiot. I just really admire the way you play, is all.”
“Wow. No, really, wow. Thanks. I’m going to watch your set anyway, so just gimme a cue.”
“Now you’re just flattering me.”
A loud booming voice echoed over the sound system then, making us look around. “Zoooooeeeeee.”
I smiled and glanced up at Dee, who was on stage waving me over. “I better go,” I said to Max.
“Sure and thanks again. It’s going to be ace.”
Giving him a small smile, I made my way to the stage where Dee gave me a look.
“What?” I asked.
“Flirting with the support, Zo? Are you on operation drive indie bass players bananas still?”
I rolled my eyes. “Shut up, Dee. I’m not trying to piss off anyone. They asked me to do a song with them tonight, and I said yeah.”
He let out a slow whistle. “Zoe Granger, branching out. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“I’m the product of your creation. Deal with it.”
“What song?”
“‘Future Starts Slow’ by The Kills.”
“Sex-y.”
“Oh, tune your guitar, Dee, or we’ll be here all night, and I won’t get the chance.”
“You’re a hard task master.”
“All I need is a whip.”
“Zoe, you’re making me think dirty thoughts,” Frank said as he wandered over to the drum kit. “Especially after leading me on the other night. No wonder everyone is hot for you.”
Groaning, I went to retrieve my guitar and pedals, hoping that by the time I’d set up, Dee would have tuned his guitar and forgotten about his smart comments.
By the time the doors opened and Damages were getting ready to start their set, I was a ball of nerves. Every time I went out on stage, I had a guitar to hide behind. Going out there on my own made me feel naked. I hadn’t thought about that when Max asked me earlier, and now I wished I had. Me, my flailing arms, and a microphone.
As if he could read the blind terror that plagued my thoughts from whatever expression was plastered on my face, Dee said, “Nothing to worry about, Zo. You’re gonna be awesome.”
I could only nod as the stage lights went up, and Damages began to play their first song. To be honest, I really enjoyed them. They were a talented bunch of guys and looked at home on the stage. It was no wonder the radio station had picked up their song, and I felt that odd sensation of having my fear melt away as I listened to the set. Music had that strange effect on me. It was hard to describe. If a song spoke to me, then everything else slipped away.
“We’d like to welcome Zoe from The Devil’s Tattoo.”
Dee elbowed me sharply, breaking me out of my daydream. “Batter up, Zo Zo.”
As the song began to play, I put my head down, letting my hair fall into my face, and strode out onto the stage. I didn’t hear the crowd cheer, nor did I acknowledge the guys on stage. I just grabbed the microphone and pulled it from the stand. Some people would call it a rock ‘n’ roll attitude. I would call it just blind fear.
Standing right at the edge of the stage, I was hardly aware of people touching my legs as I sang. Right now, more than any other time, I realized this was what I had been born to do. Music was my life, my
savior, and my blood. After all that time trying to figure out where I belonged, I was finally home.
The last chord died away into loud applause, and I finally glanced up into the crowd. Hands were raised in the air, whistles and cheers were echoing, and a lot of people were holding up smartphones taking videos. Yeah, this was what I was born to do.
A hand fell on my shoulder, and I turned to find Max beaming at me. “That was amazing.”
Another of the guys came up and said, “Thanks so much.”
The bass player came over too, and yelled, “That was bloody brilliant!”
Soon, we were joined by the drummer, who pushed me forward, and I was forced to give a little bow and wave. Backing off, I glanced to the side of the stage and saw that everyone had come to watch my little guest spot.
I frowned slightly as I saw Dee talking to Will, and to my surprise, they looked almost friendly. I wondered what they could possibly have to talk about, and the only common denominator was me. Finally, Dee clapped him on the shoulder and walked off. I didn’t want to think about it. I was enjoying this moment way too much.
Will caught my eye and grinned, then shook his head. He was too far away for me to hear, but I could read the word that escaped his lips.
Beautiful.
And I couldn’t help the answering smile that crept onto my own.
Chapter 9
The tour continued like clockwork, and each and every show we played was a hell of a lot of fun.
When I was up on stage, I was someone else. I let go and rolled with it, putting everything I had into every note. The applause and the whistles came in droves, and not once did I fall off the drum kit. Simone kept updating our Facebook page with an assortment of photos she took backstage, and it was a lot of fun to read through the comments and write back little status updates. I saved all my favorites onto my own phone and looked at them first thing in the morning to remind myself where I was now and where I was staying.
Right up until we’d left on tour, I shied away from social media. I deleted all my profiles and got a new email address after I broke my arm. The moment I’d gotten out of the hospital and checked all the notifications, I almost had a breakdown. The amount number of hateful things left all over my newsfeed by people I’d once counted as friends…it was devastating. I promptly canceled my internet service and only looked at my emails once in a while from my phone. The only apps I had on it—other than the ones that came with the thing—were for the weather and a stupid game or two. I turned old school and brought music magazines and listened to the radio. For all intents and purposes, I’d fallen off the face of the digital earth. And my savings account skyrocketed with the lack of a bill to pay.
I still didn’t have any personal profiles, but with Simone at the helm of the band’s internet presence, I didn’t need to worry. She knew a little about what had happened and had promised me she’d watch out for anything nasty, but so far, there was nothing but positive comments.
Operation ‘Avoid Will Strickland at all Costs’ was going well so far. When I was forced to speak with him, it was short and polite. We had two more days in Sydney, and then we were going toward Canberra. We were doing a few more interviews and promo shoots for some local magazines, but we didn’t have a show to worry about for a little while. I loved to play, but I was also glad for the break.
“Hey, Zo!” Frank came bounding into Dee’s and my hotel room a little too boisterously for nine a.m.
“Ugh!” I cried, pulling a pillow over my head. “I know I’m awake, but tone it down. I’m exhausted even listening to you.”
“Up and Atom!” he chortled, and I didn’t miss The Simpsons reference.
“What’s going on?”
“Interview, Zo Zo. They want you.”
“Do they just? Can’t they want me at about eleven thirty?”
“Will and Pete are going,” he said. “They want you and Dee.”
Great, but instead, I said, “Fine.”
“It’s a print thing, so they’re just going downstairs.”
“Is that meant to be a selling point?”
He laughed at my lack of enthusiasm. “Dee’s already there. He said to tell you that you’ve got thirty minutes before they get here.”
After I showered and made myself look presentable, I made my way downstairs, my stomach doing little flip-flops. By the time I actually walked into the bar, I felt physically sick. Looking across the room, I saw Dee waving me over.
There was one seat left, and I knew someone had done it on purpose. Dee was on one side, and Will was on the other. Somehow, I just knew they were in league with each other, and I didn’t know who I was annoyed at more. I should’ve known something was up when I saw them talking side of stage last night, all buddy-buddy and whispering in the corner like gossiping little girls. At what point did Dee decide to push me right in front of Will instead of pulling me away? I thought he was bad news in my best friend’s eyes.
I reluctantly sat down as Dee smiled at me. “Took your time. Got you a coffee. You’re welcome.” He knew I wanted to yell at him, but we always had that ESP thing going ever since the day we first met.
“I’m exactly on time,” I hissed, overly conscious of Will sitting beside me. “I want to talk to you later.”
He just grinned at me knowingly as the interviewer introduced herself.
I had no idea what half the questions were. I vaguely heard Dee answering most of them. Pete was there too, I suppose. Out the corner of my eye, I watched as Will pulled his hands off the table and folded them in his lap. I almost jumped out of my chair when I felt his fingertips lightly brush across my knuckles. I forgot to breathe, I forgot we were being interviewed, I forgot where we were. I had a sudden image of me trailing my hand up the inside of his thigh to…
I didn’t realize I was being spoken to until Dee elbowed me, and I snapped to attention, almost spilling my untouched coffee.
“What do you think, Zoe?” he prodded, trying to stifle a laugh.
“Sorry?” I asked, feeling my face turning red.
“What’s it been like being on tour with each other?” the interviewer asked with a knowing smile. I hoped I just came across as tired, not horny.
“What do I think?” I blinked. Even though everyone was looking at me, the only pair of eyes I could feel belonged to Will. “It’s our first major tour together, so it’s been helpful having a band along who’s done it all before.” Diplomatic. Even. Not at all desperate sounding.
“What do you think of these guys?”
I was put off by her question, but I had to answer, especially when everyone was staring at me. “They’re great musicians. I respect them.”
They all looked at me as if they thought I wasn’t telling the truth, but the interviewer looked pleased enough and moved on to another question.
Thankfully, after that, Will kept his hands to himself, and I said nothing that embarrassed me, though, by the time the interviewer left, I knew everyone was onto us.
The first moment I could, I pushed my chair back and walked away, but Dee was hot on my heels.
“Okay, hot shot,” I said as he came level with me. “Rub it in.”
“Footsie under the table?” he asked with lewd wink.
“No.” I glared at him. “Handsy under the table.”
He let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back.
I slapped him on the arm. “What’s going on? You know, I saw you.”
“I know what you think you saw, hot legs, and I can safely say it wasn’t my idea.”
“Then what was?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss such information,” he tried to say with a straight face, but apparently, he found my anger hilarious.
“What happened to wanting to keep me away?”
“He’s all right, Zo. He said he was sorry. I had words with him.”
“Oh, the magic ‘words,’” I said with air quotes as I rolled my eyes.
“Zoe.” He wound an arm aro
und my waist and guided me toward the elevator. “All I’m sayin’ is to give the guy a chance. If he stuffs up in the first five minutes, I’ll be here to punch on. Okay?”
“Dee,” I said, lowering my voice. “You know I’m attracted to him. I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m good now. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time, and I don’t want to stuff it up.”
He looked down at me with a frown, suddenly serious. “I know, Zo. But sometimes you’ve gotta take a chance, no matter how broken you’ve been in the past.”
I looked away, tears stinging my eyes.
As the elevator arrived and the doors slid open, Dee gave my waist a small squeeze. “I think you should take a chance.”
I didn’t like it, but he was right. “God, you piss me off sometimes, Dee, but I love you.”
He kissed me on the top of the head. “Till the end of time, sister.”
After the interview, we had some free time. There wasn’t a gig tonight because the venue was booked for an international band, so we decided to meet up with Frank, Chris, and Simone and go out for dinner somewhere. Just The Devil’s Tattoo and I was glad it was just us. I still didn’t know what to do about today, and every time I thought about it, which was every bloody minute, my hand tingled.
It was such a nice night out as we sat out the front of the hotel, waiting for the taxi we’d ordered. I sat on the edge of the flowerbed under the windows of the hotel bar, Dee beside me. Simone was standing as close as she could to Chris without it looking obvious she was into him, and Frank was horsing around as per usual.
“We look like a bunch of no-hopers loitering out here,” Frank said, pacing up and down the footpath.
“Singin’ for our supper,” Dee said in a posh English accent.
Frank started to do a poor imitation of a beatboxer, but all he managed to do was spit up all over his front, much to our amusement.
“You know, they have apps for that,” I said, waving my phone at him.
“You’re a genius!” He pulled his own phone out and started tapping on it.
