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There was trust there, and respect, and friendship, too.
But this desire I had for him was just plain foolish.
I never ran from problems, but maybe, just this once, running was safer and smarter than staying put. It wasn’t just time for a vacation. It was time for a new path.
One that didn’t involve a seductive lead singer from the most popular band in the world.
CHAPTER6
BRODIE
ORPHEUS THEATER, NOLA, OCTOBER 29
“The power just cut off again, the fuck?” I yelled and looked around.
Or as much as I could in the dark venue.
I glanced over at Van and then Ace, our tech guy and sound engineer. I could barely see their outlines as they stood in the wings.
“I’ll go downstairs again,” Ace yelled out.
New Orleans was known for its good times. So far, our rehearsal had been anything but.
Our venue was an old concert hall from the 1920s, with ornate moldings and drafty dressing rooms. The place had character, no doubt. An intimate feel that we rarely enjoyed, and I loved. But the building had electrical wiring from the dark ages. And every hour, for the past four, without fail, the power shut down.
How the fuck could we rehearse like this? And what about the actual concert on Halloween?
“I better be prepared to sing without a mic tomorrow. Everyone got their lighters handy?” I joked.
The lights flickered again but shut down as fast as they’d lit up.
“For once, I agree with Brodie. The hell, Van?” Holloway muttered as he unplugged his guitar. “We can’t work like this.”
Van finally sauntered out on stage, carrying a flashlight.
It was the closest he’d been to me since last night on the bus. When I was about to finally stake my claim.
I knew in my gut that Van was gonna do a runner, and his words confirmed it.
A month of vacation, my ass.
ButI was younger than him, and I had no problem chasing.
“The venue manager promised me that everything would be fixed by tonight. Let’s just keep going through the set and do our best,” Van replied.
“How?” Faisel stood up and hit his sticks together. “We’re a high-powered rock group. We need our amps, we need lights, we need fucking power to rehearse. This is bullshit!”
It was fine for me to go toe to toe with Van, but no one else. No way was I going to let my band brother’s comment go unchallenged.
“Chill out, Faise,” I snapped back. “It’s not his fault. I picked the venue. And we do what we always do. I don’t need special effects to sound good. The best musicians do it naturally. Isn’t that right, Van?”
He ignored my flirty comment as the lights flickered to life again.
And stayed on this time.
Faise, Holloway, and Ronin gathered around me and faced Van.
“Now that the power’s back on, start the set again,” Van requested, then turned and walked off.
