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“A travesty to rock bands!”
“-and he appears to enjoy mentoring the kids. We’re off doing our own things. We’re a group, but we’re still separate.”
Ramiro was familiar with Drak’s style. He was brash and rude, delivering comments and questions in ways meant to incite and provoke. Despite the coffee, he was calm, almost Zen-like. He smiled as Drak frowned.
“When is Seismic getting back together?”
“You know, I can’t really answer that for now. What I can tell you more about is my current single. It’s out, and I hope people like it.”
“Only philistines like it.”
“I don’t think we should antagonize people just because they have different tastes.”
“The God has spoken,” Drak said mockingly.
“Well,” Ramiro shrugged benignly.
“Alright. I’ll ask about that song, Ramiro. What were you thinking? That’s the question in everyone’s mind. You’re the rock god. If that old man Shane Garcia goes, the torch is passed to you. Why did you do this?”
“First, as flattering as it is to be considered as someone second to Shane Garcia, I don’t see myself as such. He will always be the god, no matter what. I’m honored people think like that, but there are others just as good, even better. As to why I did this song, again, it’s all about trying new things. I am categorically denying that rock music is dead. What I would like to say in response to your question is I want to make a comeback. I did things that made people hesitant in making deals with me. I understand. This is the only choice available to me. I took it. I’d like to think I made the best of it, but you be the judge.”
He fought back a smirk at Drak’s dumbfounded expression. He was expecting Ramiro to explode. He nodded and scrambled for something to say. “Uh, okay. That’s well said.”
“I’d like to take this opportunity to remind everyone that every download and purchase of the single goes to Belden County Children’s Fund. Christmas is in four weeks. Let’s do more than our share for the children by giving them a happy Christmas.”
An hour before the next show, Ramiro was in the green room getting ready. He wore a black shirt to go with the pale gray suit. Right now, tissue was tucked around the collar as make-up was applied to him.
“Pixie, when you hired this young man for tonight, were you thinking of me or yourself?” He joked as the primer was put on his face.
“He’s joking,” Carmen told the make-up artist. “His name is Doug. He usually does make-up for horror films.”
“Really,” Ramiro grinned at him. “Will you be putting fake blood on me? Fangs? Eyeballs hanging out?”
Doug chuckled. “If you want.”
“Don’t give him ideas,” Carmen said, getting back to the magazine she was reading.
“So, you’re singing tonight?” Doug asked Ramiro.
“Unfortunately,” Ramiro answered.
“It’s a nice version,” Doug remarked. “It’s my favorite song.”
“Aw, man. You shouldn’t have told me that.” Ramiro pretended to complain, drawing a laugh from him.
Carmen grinned and crossed her legs as she flipped a page on the magazine. Though Ramiro was sitting back, it didn’t escape his notice the way Doug gave her legs a look. She was wearing a long-sleeved black dress with a high neckline and a skirt inches above the knee. It was a demure dress until she turned around to show off her bare back. But the clear highlight was her legs, endless, ivory pins scattered with pink freckles. Ramiro frowned, and Doug turned back to him.
“Don’t frown, or the make-up will be uneven.”
Carmen, blissfully unaware of what was going on, continued to read. She would glance at them from time to time.
Doug worked quickly and efficiently. He had plucked some stray hairs between Ramiro’s brows and kept the make-up minimal instead of piling it on. When he finished, it was fifteen minutes before Ramiro was to go on. Doug was to stay for touch-ups.
Done, he excused himself and asked if he could go out for a cigarette. Carmen nodded. There was still time. She was still reading when the door closed, reading some more so she didn’t notice right away that Ramiro was standing and glowering at her.
“What’s wrong?” She asked.
Ramiro glared at the door. “Is he gay or straight?”
