by Cara Nelson
I turned to him. “Attention grabber. Did I add that before?”He shrugged his shoulders at me dismissively.
Simon broke out into a slow smile, and both Hunter and Gauge started laughing, making the many people who’d been watching the guys look again with renewed interest.
“Damn, she’s good,” Hunter said.
“Yeah, you’re all right, “Simon said, finally laughing and putting his hand on his leg.
“Anyone else want their assessment?” I asked. I felt like a male gorilla trying to exert my dominance. Gorillas travelled in bands, too. Funny how that worked.
“I think I’ll wait,” Gauge said.
The waitress walked up to take our orders. Wow, a lot had gone down in just the past ten minutes. I think I’d played it right.
“Are you ready to order?” she asked.
I looked at Gauge, who was sitting on the other side of Dave. I said, “I guess you’re lucky that I don’t have time to get to your assessment.”
“I guess so,” he said, smiling at me. His gaze lingered there, and he didn’t remove his eyes from mine.
We all ordered our meal and then got to talking again. Thankfully, it was much more casual, and the guys were genuinely interested in how the process would work.
“I’m going to start with some of your crew and assistants. After I get the logistics, it’ll be on to you guys. No need to even pay attention to me,” I said.
“What if we don’t like what they say or the story says?”Simon asked.
“I have final say in everything, but you’ll have some input. And, as far as opinions, we all have those, right? There’s no way to create a good piece on ProVokaTiv without individual perspectives. I have no desire to write crap any more than you want a bad article written about yourselves. ”
“How long have you been in journalism?” Hunter asked.
“Since I was the senior reporter for my high school newspaper,” I replied. I wasn’t ready to share that this was my breakthrough opportunity, going from local bands on the rise to one that had made it—not yet.
Gauge started laughing. Good, he thought it was a joke…maybe?
“So, if you can ask us anything, can we ask you anything?” Gauge asked.
“You can ask anything you want. But I don’t promise to answer, and you can bet it’s not ending up in The Rift. This is about you guys, not me. ”
“Fair point,” Gauge said.
“What’s your favorite song of ours?” Gauge asked.
Oh no, not that question, I thought. I dug frantically through my memory to find one that I at least thought was okay. Not easy, I’ll admit. It hadn’t been a huge focus since I wasn’t writing about their songs, but them, the band.
“I think that Tripoli is decent,” I finally said.
“Decent? Interesting choice of words,” Gauge said.
“Were you expecting me to say more?” I asked.
“Not necessarily, Brynn.”
Simon had been listening and drumming on the edge of the table with his fingers. “I don’t think our journalist likes our music.” His reply was casual, but I didn’t want to admit how spot on he was.
I smiled. “Maybe it sounds better live. That’s often the case, isn’t it?”
“You know how to deliver a stinger, don’t you?” Hunter asked.
“Logically and statistically speaking, a neutral journalist can paint a more favorable story. Look at it that way.”
Hunter looked at me and yawned. “I’m sorry…I spaced out at logically and statistically.”
I began blushing, caught off-guard by the little slam. But then again, I’d just told the guys I was going to be around all summer, albeit indirectly, that I didn’t care for their music.
“That’s okay; it’s my job to keep it all in order,” I said, smiling brightly. I wasn’t about to show any signs of weakness. I was a journalism warrior, and the rock scene was my war zone.
By the end of lunch, I felt pretty good and confident in everything that was going to happen. It was a weird start, but a good one, and all my people-watching skills were going come in handy. I had to admit that watching them goof off behind the scenes was interesting. The quietest one had been Gauge, which surprised me. I’d though it would be Simon. It made me want to know more. After all, music taste aside, the guy had a killer voice and he knew how to use it. To get him to use it with me…
Chapter Three:
Gauging the Situation
Dave was going to pick me up at the hotel to take me down to the pier where ProVokaTiv was going to be practicing before the first concert destination in Savannah that night. We’d all be leaving the next morning on a tour bus. During the drive I was going to be interviewing him, and I was eager to get started.
I was sitting in the lobby in a chair, watching the rain and waiting for Dave to say that he was outside. I looked down at my phone, sending a text to Jessie and Trinity, who’d been bugging me about how yesterday had gone. “Good morning,” I heard a voice say from behind me.
I turned around and saw Gauge there. I quickly put the cellphone face down because I had just been typing his name into it. It would be horrible to get busted doing that.
“Good morning,” I said, smiling back.
“I’m ready,” Gauge said.
I cocked my head, clueless as to what he was talking about. “For?”
“My assessment,” he said.
“Why are you suddenly interested?”
“The guys aren’t around to bust my balls for whatever rubbish comes out of your mouth.”
“Interesting.” He didn’t like to be teased.
I looked at him and breathed in. He angled his body toward me. I glanced at his form-fitting black t-shirt, jeans, and Donald Pliner shoes. I wasn’t thrilled to have my ‘voice of reason’ saying he looked yummy. That’s how Trinity would say it.
“Is it really important for you to know that?” I asked. That conversation was done; my ability to stand up to them had been proven.
“No, not really, Brynn.”
I love the way he says my name, I thought. “Just trying to make conversation?” I asked.
“I’m just curious,” he said.
“I’ll tell you later. I’m waiting for Dave to pick me up. ”
“What a coincidence. So am I,” Gauge said. “I was running late and the guys are already down by the pier.”
“Yes, what a coincidence,” I repeated, looking at him to see if he was playing some sort of angle. I hoped he wasn’t trying to sabotage me. Why would he waste his time and energy doing that?
“So, indulge me.”
“Fine, Gauge, I’ll do that. I see you as a sensitive soul, one whose been hurt by some people doing some crappy things.” I stopped short. My instincts told me a different route to gain control over this was better. “And, you’re all about the performance, no inspiration from anyone other than your buddies.”
He burst out into a loud laugh. Everyone looked, but I knew I had him. I’d seen that look before. The wheels were turning. “Are you saying I don’t draw inspiration from anyone other than who’s around me?”
“That’s not exactly how I’d say it, but if that’s what you think…”
“Let’s test your knowledge. First drummer for the Beatles?” Gauge threw out.
“Amateur. Peter Bell. Even a five-year-old could know that. ”
“Year Rolling Stone magazine was founded?” he countered.
“1967. Is that all you’ve got?”I smiled, loving the little trivia challenge.
“Why don’t you test me, Brynn?”
“Okay.”I thought for a moment. “This one will stump you. In June of 1977, a popular rock icon was killed by a rat bite. Who?”
Gauge looked at me and nodded his head slightly. “Personally I don’t think a boa constrictor is an icon, not compared to its owner, Mr. Cooper, but if you do…”
“Who’s known for inventing overdubbing?”I asked.
“With the guitar?”
“What else can you overdub?”
He gave a chuckle but he didn’t give an answer. I was smiling. I had him, just knew it.
“Man, I’m going to go with Hendrix.”
“Wrong. Les Paul,” I said. “Looks like I win.”I started laughing, suddenly feeling a rush of crazy, nervous energy.
“What are you laughing at?” he asked, looking at me oddly.
“I have no idea, sad to say. It’s a nervous habit that I’ve always had. ”
“Laughing at all the wrong times. I’ve heard about people like you. Do you laugh at funerals, too?”
“Never, but I have a secret to make sure I don’t,” I said. I wasn’t sure why I was opening up this can of worm, but…
“What’s this secret?” Gauge asked, reaching over and putting his hand on my knee. It stayed there for only a brief second, but I felt its warmth lingering after he pulled away.
“I bite the inside of my lip. I bit it until it bled once—bad mistake. ”
“I’d say so.”
“Thankfully I’m not put in that situation often.”
My phone buzzed and I jumped, forgetting that I was even holding it. “Dave’s here. We’d better go,” I said.
Gauge was already up, and offered a hand out for me to take. He helped me up from the deep, squishy chair in a single, effortless motion. It seemed odd and out of place to me. Pretty lame, it wasn’t like no one had ever helped me out of a chair before.
“Thanks,” I said. My voice sounded so quiet that I half-wondered if I’d even thanked him out loud.
His soft “You’re welcome,” indicated that I had.
We got into the car. The conversation was casual at first, exchanging pleasantries and whatnot. I was disappointed that Gauge was there because I feared it would impede my interview and the way I could talk with Dave.
“Will you have time for the interview once we get to the pier?” I asked.
“We can start now,” Dave replied. He definitely didn’t have the same concerns that I did.
“Don’t worry, I won’t interrupt,” Gauge said from the back seat.
I had no reason not to start, so I pulled out my recorder and began to ask the questions that I’d memorized. I resisted the urge to glance at the notes in my messenger bag.
Me: How did you get into the entertainment industry?
Dave: I’ve always loved entertainment, but I had a good buddy that was a performer. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing and got really screwed over. I was good at business, so I stepped in to help him out. From there, it sort of sprouted.
Me: When it comes to ProVokaTiv, what did you see that made you realize they were a good bet?
Dave: Looks, talent, marketability, and three determined sons-a-bitches, too.
Me: So, determination goes a long way when you are considering signing someone on.
Dave: Definitely, but it’ll never trump talent.
Me: Did you ever advice or suggest replacing any of the members of ProVokaTiv to make them even a better commercial fit?
Dave: For a bit I had a few concerns, I’ll admit.
Me: With who?
Dave: That’s old news; not too proud to admit that my concerns were unnecessary.
I noticed Dave glance into his rearview mirror, and I suspected Gauge was the one he’d had problems with. I turned around to find Gauge staring at me, expressionless. I was pretty sure he’d been listening, but he appeared to be tuned out.
“Was that you?” I asked Gauge. “The one that they had concerns about.”
“Like Dave said, that was a long time ago, and it’s over and done with,” Gauge said.
My research didn’t pull up any drug abuse. I was curious. I did recall him dating someone named Gretchen. Maybe he’d had a bad break-up. Being a rock star couldn’t save you from that.
“Fine,” I said, turning back around to Dave.
A half hour later, we were at the warehouse by the pier and I was getting a tour of everything that was happening to prepare for the next tour. I’d seen it all before but not on as big of a scale. It was interesting and nothing short of a well-orchestrated machine. Everyone knew their role and what they needed to do. I knew my role, too. Seeing this moment made it all more real than my speculation. This was the start of my career, and it was awesome.
Dave showed me around, and in the distance, I noticed Gauge talking with Hunter and Simon. They were pointing to various lights and spots on the stage and looking down at a piece of paper. The occasional laugh echoed form them and what interested me most about observing them was that it was obvious that they were different by each other than they were by everyone else. To me, it appeared that they were three great friends organizing what they loved best, which seemed to be their friendship as much as it was performing.
“Brynn…Brynn.” Dave’s voice snapped me back to reality. “Let’s move on.”
“Sure, thanks,” I said.
“I suppose this seems a bit boring compared to what you’re really here for, huh?”
“Actually, not at all; I need the full picture of what it’s like. This is an important part of it. I used to want to be a roadie back in junior high.”
“They’re sensitive, so watch out. They prefer ‘music technicians’ unless they’re real old school, in which case you probably won’t find them on this tour. ”
“Ah, good to know,” I said. I couldn’t hide my smile.
“So, what steered you away from that?”
“My parents advised me that there might be a better option. You know how that goes. You stop talking about it, and before you know it, you agree. I will say, however, that I’ve ended up where I was meant to be. ”
“So I gathered; otherwise you wouldn’t have a job like this.”
I worked my ass off to get this job. More than what most people would realize.
“Dave, I need you for a minute,” someone said. I already knew the voice. It was Gauge’s, and he was right behind me. I moved, feeling like he was too close and he was looking right through me.
I walked away, curious to explore more on my own. I’d had enough small talk about the basics, things I already knew about. I’d had a professor in college who said you had to start off slowly, but moving slow was never something I was great at.
“Hey, I have an emergency. You need anything before I go?” Dave asked, coming up behind me.
“No needs here.”
“Everyone knows who you are, which means they’ll probably avoid you if they see you first,” Dave said, beginning to walk away. He stopped in mid-stride and turned around. “Oh, I almost forgot. Here’s your credentials. They’ll ensure you have access to what you need to for the entire summer. Don’t lose it or abuse it.”
“Lose it or abuse it?” I asked, not able to hide my bemusement.
“Lame, but when you have kids you catch on to little statements like that to drive the point home.”
“Now that, I understand. My Dad always does that type of thing. ”
Then Dave was off, and I was on my own. Yes!
Over the next six hours, I ate some catered lunch, got interviews with ten of the road crew, and got more of a grasp of what it was like behind the scenes. With each person I spoke to, I was also fortunate enough to get a bit of insight into what they thought of the rock stars they worked for. And really…they were the ones that made sure they looked good for their thousands of adoring fans. I had to hand it to everyone I spoke with, too. They were honest in their assessment of the three guys that made up ProVokaTiv. Gauge seemed to make people feel a bit uncomfortable—unapproachable. Three had been with the group for two years and had never had a conversation with the guy. Everyone had spoken with Hunter at one point or another, mostly smack talk. Most of the encounters with Simon were about improving one aspect or another of the show, wanting to understand something better. He showed signs of being a perfectionist. I could see it.
A sound came from the stage and I looked over to see what wa
s going on. I’d been standing behind a bunch of speakers. I saw Gauge standing there, starting a full rehearsal, and staring out into the empty warehouse like it was filled with fans. I wondered if he thought about how the girls screamed. He began to move and I mumbled an appreciative, “Holy shit,” and watched. His moves were good—not too exaggerated or boy band but in complete sync with the music. He reminded me of Bruno Mars without the Angel City Hooligans backing him up.
As the day was winding down, Boomer, the road crew manager, walked up to me.
“Brynn, want to get a burger and beer with us?”
I looked around and saw one girl, who I had yet to meet, and three guys there. Everyone else had already headed out on the road.
“Sure, that would be great,” I said. It was a perfect chance to enjoy my favorite food and try to pick up more info and insights. They all knew I was a journalist, so hopefully they wouldn’t start with the ‘off the record’ requests. Really, the only thing off-limits was Gauge, who I was beginning to think was following me like he was my own shadow. He was everywhere.
“Brynn, want to go eat at Del Posto?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, turning around and seeing Gauge there. “I’m going out for a burger and beer with these guys.”
“Great, that sounds good, too,” he said. He was smiling at me and it unnerved me. I thought I might prefer the brooder.
Did he just invite himself along? I looked around, and no one seemed to mind. In fact, they all thought it was natural. I remembered them saying that even when he didn’t talk a lot he was never opposed to hanging out, occasionally commenting. They’d grown used to it, so it seemed.
“Won’t the guys be disappointed?”
“They weren’t going,” Gauge said.
I wasn’t sure if he meant that it was supposed to be just him and me, but I was never so glad to have made other plans before.
“It’s nice to know that you’re a burger and beer girl,” Gauge said.
“I act like I’m not?” I asked, not grasping his angle. I think he was being a smart ass so I decided to throw it right back at him. “Likewise, it’s nice to see that you can be a man’s man, not a metrosexual. ”
