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“We’re going to have to leave now,” Lily said, signing in black marker, since white wasn’t an option. “We have to be on stage in an hour.”
An hour? How had over two hours flown by so quickly? Roux glanced up from the arm she was writing on between a sea of colorful tattoos and smiled at the middle-aged rocker it belonged to. “You’re my last one,” she said. “I have to go perform now. You’ll be there in the crowd cheering me on, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll bring all my blokes.”
“Perfect. We really appreciate your support.”
Someone grabbed Roux’s wrist and tugged her backwards. She felt a moment of panic, thinking that she was being accosted by an overzealous concert-goer, before realizing it was just Lily trying to get her to move. Those who’d been waiting to be marked were none too happy to be left without Baroquen and five colorful autographs written on their person.
“We’ll come hang out with you after the show,” Iona promised, her eyes glazed with excitement.
Security had to step in so they could pass and make their way to the backstage area. Roux was surprised to find Steve waiting for her in the wings. “I thought you might miss your first performance and that would be a shame. Will you look at the size of that crowd?”
Roux peeked over the stage and went instantly light-headed. Their publicity stunt had worked a bit too well. The area was swamped with an ocean of eager faces. Many of them held their arms proudly in the air, showing off the messages they’d scored from the band.
“Max will be wanting pointers from you ladies,” Steve said with a chuckle. He extended his arm toward her. “Where’s my mark?”
“Seriously?”
“I’m your biggest fan. I want in on this.”
She grinned up at him—loving him a little more every second—and uncapped the marker she was still carrying. It was running low on ink, but she was able to pen the band name and her signature boldly on his arm and even added the event time and place, even though he obviously already had that information. “Knock ’em dead, Roux, who I’m not allowed to kiss right now.” He lifted his fist, knuckles pointed toward her and said, “So I’ll have to fist bump you instead.” She tried to hide her disappointment over not getting that kiss but tapped her knuckles against his. “Consider that the deep, passionate kiss I’m thinking of.”
She giggled. It wasn’t quite the same.
“One with lots of tongue,” he added in a near whisper. “I’m talking tonsil involvement. And of course, I’m squeezing your ass.”
“Of course,” she said, laughing. She knocked her knuckles against his again.
“Easy there,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to get me too worked up in front of all these people.”
Who, luckily, weren’t paying them much attention.
“Look who I found wandering around the hotel looking lost,” Raven said. She hadn’t ridden to the grounds on the shuttle bus with them, but Roux was happy she showed up to offer her support.
Zach stepped out from behind Raven, and Steve crushed him in a huge bear hug. “About time you got here,” Steve said.
“The limo I was expecting to pick me up from the airport never showed.”
Steve snorted. “Those are reserved for real rock stars.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Roux said, offering Zach a much more subdued hug than Steve had given him. “We didn’t get limo service either.”
“I guess I’m in good company then. Better than being a limos-only snob like this real rock star.”
Zach lifted his knuckles and tapped them against Roux’s. Steve immediately grabbed him in a headlock. “Watch that tonsil kissing, mister. Only I get to grab her ass like that.”
Roux burst out laughing at Raven’s confused expression.
“Did you get a new tattoo?” Zach asked, eyeing the forearm smashed against his face.
Steve released his friend and showed him his arm. “These brilliant ladies went to the gates and wrote their band name and the time and place of their performance on the forearms of fans.”
Roux rolled her eyes. “They weren’t our fans. No one had ever heard of us.”
Steve pointed to the crowd beyond the stage, which had grown even larger since she’d last checked. “I think that’s about to change.”
“Fucking hell,” Raven said, pressing trembling fingers to her cheeks. “Look at them all.”
“I’d rather not,” Roux said, taking a deep breath. “I feel sick.”
“You’ll do fine.” Steve squeezed her shoulder. “All that rehearsing will kick in as soon as you start to play. It’s muscle memory. Like riding a bike.”
He’d never once told her that all that rehearsing that Iona insisted upon was unnecessary. She supposed this was why.
“And time will fly by so fast, you’ll scarcely remember any of it,” Zach added. “Will you write your message on me too?” He held his arm out to her. “I want to be a part of this.”
She felt kind of bad as she wrote Baroquen 3 p.m. Second Stage across Zach’s arm. He was supposed to be in her shoes right now. The older festival flyers still had Twisted Element listed in the slot. She capped her marker and gave him a tight hug.
“I totally get why Steve thinks the world of you,” she said.
His arms tightened around her. “Likewise.”
“I’d better bother the rest of the band for their autographs so I don’t rouse suspicion,” Steve said. “People will wonder if I have a thing for the red one.”
He tapped Iona on the shoulder. When he presented his forearm to her, she lit up with excitement and scrambled to locate her purple marker.
He’s so great, Roux thought. I want to show him off to the world.
But she shouldn’t. She had recently witnessed the power Exodus End’s name had over people. She doubted that first concert attendee would have even allowed Iona to write on him if she hadn’t mentioned that they were opening for Exodus End this summer. So why was it okay for Iona to name-drop, but not okay for Roux to proudly show that she was in love with Steve? It wasn’t the same, Roux realized, as she watched Steve get his marks from Azura and Sage at the same time. Name-dropping about who they were opening for was not the same as name-dropping about who she slept with.
“So I’m supposed to get written on by all five of you?” Zach asked. He was watching Raven fix Lily’s wig, which was inexplicably on backwards again.
“It’s the cool thing to do,” Roux said.
“I’m glad he found you,” Zach said, still not looking at her. “He’s like his old self again. A little less fun, I must admit, but a whole hell of a lot happier.”
“He’s still fun,” Roux insisted.
Zach snorted and laughed. “Yeah, okay, by your standards, I’m sure he is.”
“Holy fucking shit!” Steve yelled. “It’s really you.”
Apparently Steve had discovered Jack Tanner hanging out with Lily.
Before Roux could respond to Zach, his eyes widened and he said, “Is that who I think it is?”
“The Fallen’s Jack Tanner?” Roux couldn’t stop smiling at Steve, who was jerking Jack’s arm out of its socket as he simultaneously shook his hand and pounded him on the shoulder. “Yep, that’s him.”
“Holy fucking shit!” Zach shouted as he dashed over to join the other three drummers.
Dare and Reagan had come to wish them luck while Roux had been distracted. They were in some serious discussion about guitar riffs with Azura and Sage. Iona and Max were also bonding, probably over how to make band members behave rather than over their vocals. Once again, the keyboardist was left on the sidelines.
“Why do you look depressed?” Raven said.
“A stupid reason.” She fiddled with her bracelet, longing to join Steve just so she could squeeze the bullet he was still borrowing. Maybe it was time to ask
for it back.
“Is it because you’re excluding yourself again?”
“I’m not . . .” She was. It was a vice of her more introverted nature. Because she wasn’t likely to force her company on anyone, she expected people to approach her and include her.
She didn’t have time to dwell on that tendency because someone called curtain, and the five members of Baroquen flocked together like terrified sheep. One of her sisters grabbed her hand, and she took someone else’s in her other hand, until they were all involved in a pretzel of hand holding.
“Let’s make Mama proud,” Azura said.
“Ramona!” they shouted in unison before separating to take their places onstage.
Don’t trip, don’t trip, don’t trip, Roux repeated to herself, her gaze focused on her keyboard, which was set up on a platform on the far side of the stage. Don’t trip.
She released a relieved breath when she made it to her spot without falling on her face. For a second she felt completely at home standing with her fingers poised over the keys and her microphone adjusted perfectly at mouth level. And then she looked out at the crowd and forgot how to breathe. There were thousands of them—all expecting to get their faces rocked off—and she couldn’t remember what song they were supposed to play first.
That was when she noticed a set list taped to the platform. Now, if only her eyes would focus well enough for her to read it. Luckily, Iona wasn’t the least bit intimidated. She stepped up to the microphone center stage and managed to get out, “Thank you all for—” before horrendous feedback screeched at the fans. There was a collective groan as most of them covered their ears.
Iona stepped away from the microphone, and the screeching died. Iona glanced at Azura and then stepped forward to try again. “We’re Baroq—” A loud buzz grew in intensity until everyone was covering their ears again. A technician dashed onstage. Someone threw a shoe at him, but he dodged the projectile. He fiddled with something on Iona’s shiny purple bass guitar. Roux could see the front of house sound crew out in the middle of the audience scrambling to try to fix the problem on their end.
The crowd grew restless. Some idiot threw a water bottle on the stage, and it hit hard near Sage’s feet. The bottle’s contents splashed all over her lower legs. She hopped backwards a second too late.
