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Tyler wobbled his hand from side to side. “Maybe forty percent? But I can fake it. It’s not my first day playing bass.”
I managed to grin up at him. “No, it’s not.”
Before Nobody’s Fool, Tyler had been the bass player for a band called Pretty Harts. They’d been the sweethearts of the hard rock world before us. We’d been rising to fame around the time they’d been winding down, as their lead guitarist, Casey Hart, fell in love with and married an eastern European king. Now she was a queen with a bunch of kids and responsibilities, and Tyler—along with Pretty Harts’ drummer, Bash—had formed a new band.
“Oh, fuck me loud.” Ross stood in the doorway shaking his head. “God dammit, Carter.”
* * *
Thankfully, Tyler filled in for us with no problem and Carter just needed to sleep it off. The band, however, called a meeting the next day once Carter had woken up, showered, and eaten. He was contrite today, not looking any of us in the eye as he tried to explain.
“I screwed up,” he said. “I was drunk off my ass and when she—”
“Who’s she?” I asked, interrupting.
“Tori. I see her whenever we’re in Vegas. She never used to be into the hard stuff.” He scratched his head. “I guess that’s changed. She shot me up before I even realized what was happening. I swear, guys. It was a one off.”
“Not true, man.” Pete spoke up. He’d made us sign something this morning, protecting his job, because he knew Carter would be furious when he ratted him out. Whether or not he’d be pissed enough to fire him, we couldn’t be sure, but Pete had a family back in Oklahoma, so he wasn’t taking the chance, and I understood that.
“Come on.” Carter gave him a look. “It happened one other time but—”
“Three other times.” Pete folded his arms across his chest. He was a big guy in his forties. He’d been a bass tech for a long time and was one of the best in the business, so he wasn’t messing around.
“What are you, my fucking mom?” Carter snapped, all signs of remorseful Carter disintegrating and replaced by petulant, addicted Carter.
“It’s his job to make sure you’re on stage when you have to be,” Ross interjected. “And he didn’t say a word until last night. Carter, do you not realize how much money we lose if you can’t play and we have to refund a full house of tickets?”
Carter rolled his eyes. “Tyler stepped in. It was fine. And anyway, it never happened before. I’m on top of this.”
“It’s happened more than once before,” Kingston said. “Remember Houston a few years back? And then Buffalo last summer?”
Carter didn’t respond.
“You’re not on top of shit,” I muttered. “Look, I love you, man. You’re my bro. But you know as well as I do this goes beyond the band. H can kill you. Is the high worth it?”
“Seems to me all it did was make you piss your pants and pass out,” Tommy added. “How is that a good high?”
Carter sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry. Okay? Like I said, I fuck up sometimes. I’m not perfect like you fuckers.”
“Don’t do that,” Kingston said, shaking his head. “It’s not cool.”
“What do you want from me? I’m an addict!” Carter threw up his hands.
“You can get sober,” I said quietly. “You did it before.”
“There’s nothing to do on tour,” he protested. “We spend twenty-three hours a day chasing the high of being on stage for an hour.”
“Seventy-five minutes,” Kellan corrected him blandly.
We played a sixty-minute set and then another fifteen minutes or so with our encores. Two songs for the first, and one for the second. Once in a while, we added a third and played covers if we had special guests that would perform with us. We tried to give our fans their money’s worth, but that wasn’t the point now.
“I said I was sorry.”
“We want you to go back to rehab for the two weeks between the end of the North American tour and the start of Europe,” Ross said. “Otherwise, we’re finding a replacement.”
“What?!” Carter shot out of his seat. “You can’t fucking replace me.”
“We can.” Ross motioned to a stack of papers on the table. “It says so in the contract. I can read it out loud if you want. If you recall, it was one of the things you asked us to do after you got sober last time.”
