Page 59 of Before the Encore

He stomped over, goatee twitching with annoyance. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Madison stepped around him, walking back to her marker. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“The only thing you should be thinking about are these two shows.” He followed her, huffing. “Anything else can wait.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waved her hand. “Let’s just run it again.”

“You need to concentrate.”

“I am concentrating.”

“You’re moping.”

Madison gritted her teeth. “Back off, Frank.”

He studied her with a stern frown, and anger crept up her spine.

“Frank, I seriously suggest you get away from me unless you want that terrible goatee punched off your face.”

He threw his arms up. “You’re impossible!”

“And you’ve got an annoying little man complex.” She tightened her grip on the neck of her guitar. “You’d still be playing in your mum’s basement if it wasn’t for me.”

“Ah, yes, all hail Madison,” Frank mocked, raising his arms, “our lord and saviour.”

Madison put her guitar down before she cracked him with it. It was far too nice of a guitar to waste breaking it on Frank’s head.

“Alright, guys, that’s enough.” Kam peeled herself from her drum kit to stand between them.

But neither of them backed down. Madison’s hands curled into fists. Frank’s nostrils flared.

“This is our biggest show to date,” Frank seethed. “I’m so sick of having to step on eggshells because you keep fucking things up for us.”

“’Cos that’s all I do, right? Fuck everything up?”

“Yes!” Spit flew from his mouth. “You’re gonna fuck up our big break all because you can’t keep it in your pants.” He looked at Kam, exasperated. “We thought you’d make it past these four shows before Bonnie got sick of you, but alas, it must be a new record.”

That landed like a slap to the face. We?

Kam swivelled her head, eyes wide.

“You too?” Madison’s voice came out soft, pathetic, but she already knew the answer. Kam opened her mouth, but nothing came out. At that, Madison shoved them both in the chest. “Fuck both of you.”

She jumped off the stage, landing with a thud, and headed for the doors. A few members of the crew averted their gazes, busying themselves with boxes and safety rails.

“Madison, wait!” Kam shouted.

But she didn’t.

Rage pushed her feet forward. She crashed through the doors, taking any exit she could. She needed to get away. If her friends thought she was a fuck-up—just like her own mother did—then how could she argue that logic?

No wonder Bonnie hadn’t called. No wonder she ran away again. She’d had the right idea: jump ship before it capsized. Nobody wanted to board a boat destined for the ocean floor.

Kam called again. “Madison, let me explain!”

As she turned down the hallway, Bonnie crashed into her chest.

“Madison, what the—” Then Bonnie clocked Kam running after her, and her face softened. “What’s wrong?”