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Another elevator opened, showing that it was crammed full of people already. “You two coming?” someone called out. “We can squeeze you two little things in here with us.”
Riley lifted her brows at me. “What do you think? It looks pretty full.”
“No way,” I shook my head. “My claustrophobia is making me dizzy just looking at that death trap waiting to happen.”
She waved them on, and the door closed once again. “We can just take the stairs if you want,” she offered.
“No, I know you and stairs. I want you to have a good time today, not break your ankle before the festival even starts.” I pressed the call button again, and moments later, it opened.
Luckily there were only a few people inside, all of them with bracelets on proclaiming them VIPs for the event. I tugged on my own wristband, noting the difference in colors between ours and those everyone else was wearing. Theirs were dark purple mixed with black, their VIP logos in yellow with white writing. Riley’s and mine were completely black with no writing on the little VIP tag with a chip inside that was supposed to get us into the VIP areas and our free merchandise.
We weren’t just VIPs, though. Riley won the ultimate experience, which meant we got to go backstage to check everything out behind the scenes. We were going to be able to hang out with rockers who had been my salvation during the dark years of my childhood. Guys whose music—their fucking words—had touched and eased something in my soul and made each day I lived under the same roof as my mother and stepfather a little easier.
Downstairs, a black van was already waiting in front of the hotel. Riley walked up to the driver and told him who we were. Opening the door for us, the guy helped us into the back and then got behind the wheel. The drive to the festival should have only taken ten minutes according to my phone, but traffic was already backed up before we even got to the exit.
The driver bypassed our exit and took the next one. Frowning, I didn’t say anything as the man took several backstreets. Riley was busy playing on her phone, not paying attention to what was going on around us, but I was too paranoid to let a stranger drive us without being vigilant.
He stopped at the red light, but when it turned green and he hit the gas, the van barely coasted through the intersection. I heard a sputter, and the man cursed as he pulled to the side of the road.
“What?” Riley asked, finally lifting her head. “Are we here?”
“We’re still about five miles away,” the driver informed her. “But we seem to be having some mechanical issues, ma’am. Let me take a look to see what’s going on.”
Ten minutes later, he was still under the hood of the van, his phone to his ear as he spoke to his boss. I sat in the open door, but the slight breeze did nothing for the sweat already beaded on my brow and upper lip. I could hear every word the driver was saying, but thankfully, none of it made me think this was all a ploy to kidnap us and force us to become sex slaves or some other freaky Criminal Minds kind of shit.
Riley fanned herself with her hand, sweat glistening on her body. “This sucks!” she complained. “We’re going to be here all day and miss all the best newbie bands.”
“Yeah, we probably should have just gotten an Uber.” I pulled up the app on my phone, still keeping my ear open to what the driver was saying.
When he said it was going to take at least thirty minutes for someone to come pick us up, I ordered us a car. I was hot, thirsty, and tired of sitting on the side of the damn road. We could have walked it, but I probably would have ended up with sunstroke before we ever got there.
“She’s only like two miles away. Should be here soon,” I assured Riley. “Keep your eyes open for a green Mini Cooper.”
“Sweet! Loves you, Mar-Mar.”
I shook my head. “Loves you, Riles.”
As soon as the twentysomething purple haired chick pulled to a stop beside the van, Riley was jumping out of the back—much to the shuttle driver’s chagrin. He sputtered out apologies and begged us not to go, but I slid into the back of the blissfully air-conditioned car and gave the man a finger-wave.
“The AC good enough?” the Uber driver asked as we fastened our seat belts. “I can adjust it for you if you need.”
“This is perfect,” Riley groaned as she lifted her shirt to expose her stomach to the air-conditioning vents. “You’re an angel.”
The driver winked in the rearview mirror and merged into traffic. “Hold on to your tits, ladies. I’ll have you there in no time.”
Chapter 2
Amara
The closer we got to the festival grounds, the more congested traffic became. Half a dozen state troopers were out directing traffic. By the time we got to the drop-off area, it was nearly noon. Riley was acting like a squirrel hyped up on Red Bull as she bounced around, trying to see over the crowds and fence to get a look at the stages and vendor tents.
“They’re already doing soundcheck,” she whined as we dropped our phones into the baskets and stepped through the metal detectors.
I snatched up my phone as soon as I was through, checking the time and confirming which stage we wanted to go to first, as two guys dressed in T-shirts cut off well above their belly buttons and matching superhero underwear bumped into us. Their outfits stood out a little more than some of the others, walking around like this was any other day to them. Spider-Man and Deadpool were carrying pretzels, and we had passed a gang of Stormtroopers before we even got in the entrance line.
“If we go now, we can get up front for the Blonde Bombshells show. They go on in twenty minutes,” I told Riley.
“Hell yeah. I’m dying to see those bitches. Roanna gets my panties wet every single time I hear her voice.”
