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I want what he has, this place where I belong.
This passion for what I do.
My voice is weak, but I do manage a nod. "Okay."
Alessandra leads me to a spot backstage. It's not much of a backstage. It's more of a hallway behind a curtain.
She motions to a room at the end of the hall. "Dressing room's down there if you need to do some pre-show ritual later. You don't have to pretend or be shy with me. I've seen it all before."
My gaze goes back to Joel. He's still in a trance. He has no idea I'm back here.
This is a nice angle. I can see all the action, but I'm well out of the fray. Joel's friends can't look at me like I have two heads.
I can't get caught up in the jealousy monster threatening to swallow me whole.
Alessandra motions to a printed paper with a list of names, phone numbers, and email addresses. There are some huge names on here. Some of the biggest names in rock.
She taps the first four names. They're highlighted in pink. "These fucking assholes tell me they'll take any gig they can get, then they give me shit about showing up by nine. If they aren't here at nine, they don't go on. End of story." Her voice is tough but all-business. She's not irritated or emotional. She's making a decision.
I'm jealous of her too. I want to feel badass and in control. Only the thought of calling strangers and demanding they bend to my will has my palms sweaty.
I promised Joel I'd try new things, even things that terrified me.
This certainly qualifies.
"You want to use my phone, sweetheart?" She offers me her cell.
I take it. "Okay. I can do that."
"You're calling on behalf of Alessandra Rodriguez. Don't give them a name. Just tell them not to fuck off."
Okay, maybe she's a little irritated. But I'm glad to help someone who helps Joel.
I do really like helping people.
It makes me feel good.
Useful.
Productive.
I dial the first number and bring the phone to my ear.
A deep voice answers. "Yeah?"
"Is this Kell?"
"Don't you know who I am?"
I don't know who anyone is. I look to Alessandra. She's already onto her next fire, chewing out one of the guys who works at the venue.
A deep breath helps calm my racing heart. I channel my sister, the hard-ass lawyer. "I know you need to be at Club Lurid at nine o'clock or you won't be going on."
"Who the hell are you?"
"I'm calling on behalf of Alessandra Rodriguez."
"She finally got an assistant?"
