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The refrain of “Gonna be a long wait!” came from Dez, Winter, Damien, and Tripp, earning them all a double bird salute from a disgruntled-looking Riley. Zakk just shook his head at his old friend.
“You know you set yourself up for that, right?” Zakk asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry, here’s a little message for you too,” Riley replied, flipping him off as well.
“Seriously though, Riley’s acting dreams aside, how did you get that guitar?” Tavis asked.
“I seriously got it from Adrian Lee during a Shriveled Rose concert.”
Sputtering, Tavis waved his arms around, trying to sort out his words. “But…but….how?”
“He gave it to me.”
More sputtering from Tavis, while Winter reached over and shoved Dez’s shoulder. “Stop fuckin’ with us and tell us already.”
Well, at least it was a level playing field since neither Winter nor Riley knew the story either.
“There is not a whole lot to tell.”
“Bullshit,” Tripp growled. “No one just gets given a guitar in the middle of a show for no good god damned reason.”
“Oh, there was a reason,” James remarked as he looked Dez up and down. He was the only one who hadn’t said a word during the whole conversation, not even when the rest of them had been firing questions at him.”
Heads swiveled in his direction, but Winter was the first to speak. “Then spill, god damnit since this fucker won’t.”
“All I know is what I heard,” James replied. “Truth be told, until I saw that guitar with my own two eyes, I never believed the story.”
“What. Story!” Winter squawked. His face had taken on several mottled shades of red, the outrage and impatience evident in every sound he uttered.
“Okay, okay, I’ll tell it. Damn.”
Zakk watched Dez take a deep breath, his fingers worrying the seam of his jeans while he avoided making eye contact with any of them.
“Shriveled Rose was my favorite band. Hell, I modeled my early guitar playing after Adrian Lee. From the time I was ten until I was sixteen, I’d seen them live more than twenty times. About drove my uncle crazy begging him to get tickets if they came within a hundred miles of us. Good grades, extra chores, whatever it took to get him to take me, I did.”
“So like, was there a contest or something going on where you won it?” Zakk asked, starting to feel a bit impatient too.
“Not exactly.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Tavis blurted.
“Just, damn, have some patience, I’m getting there.”
“When, next Juvember?” Tavis shot back.
“I was thinking Feezle Day, but that works too,” Dez replied, some of the smartass bleeding through at last. Zakk had been wondering when he’d loosen up around Tavis and Tripp and start popping off like he was known to do with them. They’d learned early in his time with Tattered Angel that Dez would censor himself until he was comfortable with them.
“Story,” Riley whined. “Unless you want Feezle Day to be the next time I rock the mic for you.”
“Damn!” Winter howled, echoed by Damien and James.
“That’s cold,” Dez grumbled, nudging him.
“Gonna get colder if you don’t start talking,” Riley said, crossing his arms and glaring at him.
“Okay. Sheesh. I was getting there.”
“You’ll get there faster if you know what’s good for you!”
