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From all I’d heard, Damage Control Incorporated, which handled security for them, was a small but highly trained team that exclusively worked for the bands that Draven managed. Like Harley and Scythe, they’d silently remained around the perimeter while the bands had been hanging out, alert and watchful, despite how still the night was.
“Probably time for us to hit our bunks too,” Pressley declared, standing and stretching as they drove away.
I pulled Tony aside as the others headed in, having something I’d saved for him all evening, now that’d I’d finally put the finishing touches on it while he’d been seated around the bonfire.
“I really like them,” Tony said, snuggling against my side, “even when they’re covering me in bubbles.”
“We’ll get ‘em next year,” I said.
“Yeah, we will. That gives me plenty of time to find the perfect bubble cannon,” Tony said, snuggling up against me. “What they said, about the press, I didn’t know that’s how they treated Dez. I just remember seeing him with different bands, then he was gone, then all of a sudden, he was playing with Tattered Angel at Rocktoberfest, blowing up the internet with his shred-off performance. Then there’s Jagger trying for years to find a band that wanted to do more than just play covers. He’s literally one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, and they crapped all over him for not having the chance to show what he could do before now. How is that even fair?”
“It’s not. Just like what some of them snakes have tried to do to you guys. It doesn’t make a good story if you guys are out there shredding and kicking ass without there being fistfights in the back or people getting drunk and passing out places. Since none of you guys have pulled that shit and hopefully never will, the only thing they have to attack is the way the band formed. In a year or two, no one will care that you guys weren’t best buddies from high school who took their band from the garage to the big stage.”
He huffed, relaxed, the ring on his finger getting a break tonight after all the spinning he’d done through the last few days. “You’re right. Having them talk about having gone through it and what it’s like on the other side, we just have to weather it and not let the reporters get in our heads. If we do, that’s when one of us will say something that might give them a story we don’t want them to have.”
“Exactly,” I replied. “Every journey looks different. Want to know something else about those reporters?”
“Yes please.”
“Pressley keeps note of everyone who asks a shitty question,” I explained. “A time will come when they will be begging him for interviews and he’ll be able to remind them of how they behaved, when he denies it to them. It’s a slow process, getting to a position where your management team can do that, but I’ve seen it happen. He’s been schooled by the best. Their day will come.”
“I can’t wait to see it.”
“You’re not the only one,” I replied. “Speaking of seeing things. There is something I’ve been working on. It’s taken a few weeks, I couldn’t get the eyes quite right, or your hair. It’s been a while since I’ve drawn anything so…”
“You drew me?” he asked before I could apologize for it not being as perfect as I wanted it to be.
Just meant I’d have to draw him again, not that I’d mind.
“I sure did, Little Wren,” I replied. “Finished it up tonight when you were talking to your friends. The firelight illuminated your face perfectly.”
I showed him the sketchbook then and watched his eyes light up, then teared up as he pressed his hands to his lips, staring from me to the drawing and back again, wonder and amazement written all over his face.
“That’s how I see you,” I said, caressing his cheek.
“I look…I’ve never seen myself like…like…this.”
“Powerful. Free. Like some wild thing in the middle of the woods, frozen in all its majesty.”
“I love it,” he replied. “I love you. I got lucky the day you came into my life.”
“I’m the lucky one,” I replied, closing the sketchbook so I could hug him. “I get to love you for the rest of my days.”
“There had better be a lot of them and they’d better be long,” Tony replied, squeezing me.
“From your lips to the universe’s ears,” I said, kissing the top of his head. “Now, let’s get our butts to bed so we’re not grumpy over breakfast tomorrow.”
“Okay, Daddy.” He replied, snuggling one last time before letting me lead him in.
That word was rapidly becoming my favorite.
One I vowed to always live up to.
Chapter Nineteen
Tony
“That was a fantastic tour!” Tibby cheered as we got off the buses at the studio where we’d left our vehicles. Security started them while we were gone to keep the batteries good and they were well protected behind the locked gates. “How long until we leave again?”
