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Jake didn’t need Glen’s opinion to know that. He felt it in some deep core of himself. “Rand probably has a better voice, but she’s electric out there.” So much so, her image was seared on the back of his eyelids.
“She’s the bomb,” Glen agreed, and from the look on the faces of the three journalists, Jake figured he and Glen weren’t alone in their assessment. But something was niggling him about Rielle. She’d missed a cue. He’d only picked it because he’d watched a dozen rehearsals. Was that normal, or was she nervous?
Two seconds later, Bodge was holding out a bottle of water and a towel to Rand while Tef did the same for Stu on the other side of the stage.
Rand was scrutinising Rielle; Jake read concern on his face. She was on stage still singing what passed as a ballad for Ice Queen; nailing every note, hitting every spot. But Jake could see in the tremble of her hand on the old school mic she used that she wasn’t where she’d want to be in the performance. But then that’s why they’d started here in Adelaide.
Back on stage again, Rand and Stu kicked into the last two numbers of the ten set half. How was shirtless and looked deliriously happy. Roley was in his zone, master of the keyboard, and Rielle and Ceedee were teasing the punters at the stage edge with their short skirts, high heels and wide legged stances.
At the end of the second number, Rand said, “Take a break, Adelaide. We’ll be back in twenty minutes,” and the house lights came on.
Twenty minutes was enough time for the band to catch their breath, and Bodge’s support crew to run ragged re-setting the stage and the instrumentation for the second half. It was enough time for Ceedee and Rielle to change, for the boys to swap out wet shirts and towel-dry hair and for Jonas to re-iterate instructions for the next set of songs. Jake watched Rand pull Rielle aside. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but it resolved with Rielle thumping Rand in the chest with the heel of her hand.
Twenty minutes was also enough time for the punters to move about, talk with friends, make phone calls, send messages and to join unrewarding but necessary queues for bathrooms and drinks.
And it was enough time for Jake, Glen and Grunt to start talking about striking the set, and getting ready to move out. They had a long night ahead of them.
When the second half opened, it was to a thumping reprise of Ice Queen’s hit song, All Souls, complete with special effects lighting. How and the three singers took their places on stage, but Rand, Stu and Roley made their entrances from different areas of the stadium, playing their sections of the song from the cheap seats.
It was logistically complicated, and required the support of both technical and security crew, but it gave the punters in the nose bleed seats almost another postcode away from the stage their one special piece of the show.
Back on stage, Rielle made her entrance, again from the trapeze. She was so mesmerising, Jake forgot to feel dizzy looking up at her. This time she performed a series of tricks to reach the stage floor: twisting, spinning, diving and mock falling, to shrieks from the audience. Her entrance allowed Rand, Roley and Stu time to use the stadium tunnels and byways to get to the backstage area and emerge on stage in time to pick up the next song on the second-half set list.
Jake was relieved to have everyone back on stage again, and amused to see how anxious Teflon looked. His big moment was approaching. He’d swapped his roadie uniform black t-shirt for a pale blue one and ditched his ID lammy. Even his trademark bandanna was gone. He presented exactly like an ordinary punter, and he looked scared shitless.
When he climbed into the cage with Rielle, he had a frozen smile on his face, but his hands went where they were supposed to go, and the punters in the pit and on the floor howled their appreciation.
Rielle looked to be barely aware of Tef’s nerves, barely aware he was even there. He might as well have been another piece of mechanised staging. She was focussed on the faces she could see, the thump of the bass, her next line of song, and the reaction of the crowd. Jake thought she still had some of the hesitancy of her earlier performance; as dynamic as she was, he had an inkling nerves were stopping her from settling into her groove. Three songs later to a burst of smoke and laser light, Rielle called, “Goodnight Adelaide!” and the stage collapsed into darkness. They’d almost done it. The first Ice Queen event was an encore away from being put to bed.
Jake watched Bodge and Tef onstage scrambling to reset instruments. He knew backstage, the band would be towelling down and making one last change while the sounds of cheering, shouting and stomping grew in intensity. Then it’d be time for them to say goodbye with a thumping, chiming, soaring musical frenzy designed to leave the punters blasted to their cores. For Jake and the crew though, the night was only getting warmed up.
How, Rand and Stu were first back on stage followed by Roley and the singers. Rielle came on last in a leather and lycra outfit that defied gravity, appearing above the stage in the extended Hand, this time on her own. The audience was a screaming, pulsing mass: singing along, bopping in their places, losing themselves in the throb of the music and the flash of the lighting. They wanted to dance and shout like this all night. No one was leaving early for the car park. No one wanted to miss a minute.
Two songs in, Rand told the crowd how great it was to be back home and how grateful he was for the warm reception and the chance to show his American band mates how Australia rocks. That just caused the punters to enjoy themselves more.
When the last notes of the last song reverberated through the night, no one wanted to go home. The band members took their applause, clapping the audience back. Roley threw his latest wet t-shirt into the front row. How frisbeed a hat he’d worn, and Rand looked to Rielle. Jake knew there was one more song they could do. But Rielle shook her head quickly and moved her hand in a signal that meant ‘no’ and so, to the sound of shouting and stomping, Ic
e Queen left the stage in Adelaide for the last time.
10. After Party
When the stage went dead, the stadium house lights came on and Jake watched the last groups of rowdies make for the exits. They always sang badly, and this lot were no exception.
While the members of Ice Queen, Problem Children and assorted journalists, friends and hangers on—mostly guests of Problem Children’s lead singer, Jonathan Bennett—partied in the green room, the business of pulling down the stage and packing all the gear began. It would take all night and into the morning. They needed the trucks on the road in twelve hours’ time.
He sculled a bottle of water. He’d get a supper break later, but he needed to find Jonas to check on flight and hotel payment details first. He headed for the green room where the after party was in full swing. He skirted the edge of the room looking for Jonas. Saw Stu and Ceedee cuddled on a sofa, How and Problem Children’s drummer deep in conversation, a bored looking Jeremy swigging from a bottle of vodka, and Roley stretched out on another sofa asleep, or doing a good imitation of it. He couldn’t spot Jonas, Rand or Rielle and any one of them would have done for his purposes.
Someone shoved a beer in his hand, and he was about to quit the room and try again later, when he spotted Rielle. She was sitting on Jonathan Bennett’s knee. She looked flushed and drained, leaning into the lanky lead singer’s body and trailing her arm around his neck.
It could wait. Jake slipped out the nearest exit. He was half way back to the stage, when he heard Rielle call his name. He hesitated, allowing her to catch up, wondering what sort of mood she was in. Hellcat or pussycat?
“Are you happy with the gig?” he asked.
“I don’t want to talk about the gig,” she said, folding her arms defensively.
Okay, hellcat then. “What can I do for you?”
“I understand you aren’t flying with us tomorrow.”
