The fan.
They hadn’t gotten back up.
I stopped playing, and Dash did too, while Johnny had moved to stand on the stage right in front of where everything was taking place.
“Hey, hey,” Johnny called. “You guys need to back up and help that kid.”
From my perch, I could see the moment when it clicked with some of them, and their eyes followed where Johnny pointed. Even the officers started heading that way, as Rebel and a couple of large guys in leather were able to help the fan to their feet and hoist them over the barricade, where there were officers waiting to escort them to the EMTs. There were always some at every show, though most nights they were only needed for those who’d fainted or got dehydrated.
"Thanks, guys!” Johnny said and received a roared"you're welcome"in response. “You know we’re all about having a good time, right?”
Hell yeah!Came the resounding chant. Johnny waited for it to settle down a smidge as the two guys in leather, along with one of the officers, helped Rebel back over the barricade.
“Alright then, we’re going to make that happen,” Johnny said. “But I need you all to watch out for one another so no oneelse gets hurt; can you do that for me?”
Thehell yeah’sstarted back up again, and by then, Rebel was struggling to climb back up on the stage. Johnny ran over to help and nearly got pulled off the stage due to their size difference until Dash grabbed hold of the back of Johnny’s jeans and helped him get Rebel up there.
The height of the raised platform my drum kit sat on would have meant I’d need a boost if I’d climbed down, so I hoped I was making the right decision in not trying to help. People were still chanting"hell yeah"as a somewhat unsteady Rebel lifted his guitar strap over his shoulder, then promptly sat on part of the riser in front of my drum stand, making it impossible for me to see more than just the top of his head.
My eyes met Johnny’s when he turned to look at me, and as soon as he nodded, I launched into the intro for our next song, but some of the energy was clearly lost when Rebel never reengaged with the rest of our bandmates.
It was still a kickass show, and I was dripping sweat by the time I finished, stood, and threw my sticks into the crowd after taking a bow. I had to wait for the raised platform with my drum kit to be lowered before I could get down. By then, Johnny and Dash had Rebel between them and were helping him down the steps off the stage, while I trailed behind wondering what the hell was going on with him.
As I reached the bottom of the steps, several things happened at once. Rebel’s legs completely gave out, and Johnny staggered under the sudden increase in weight and fell to his knees. Rebel wound up half sprawled on him, saved from faceplanting by the hold on him Dash had been able to maintain. Sully, who’d been at the bottom of the steps along with the rest of our guards, bent and scooped Rebel up like he weighed nothing and carried him into the dressing room and away from the prying eyes of the other bands as well as the fans with backstage passes. I followed too, as did the rest of the band and our guards, someone’s voice on the walkie calling for EMTs to come to the backstage area while Johnny lightly smacked Rebel on the face, trying to bringhim around.
What happened? Did he get overheated?Draven’s text-to-speech device could barely be heard over all the other voices in the room, until Sully stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill whistle that brought about immediate silence.Was he drinking water during the set?
“I saw him kill a couple bottles early on, but I couldn’t see anything but the top of his head after he sat down,” I explained, since I was standing right beside Draven.
“He waved me off when I offered him a bottle,” Johnny said, still lightly patting Rebel’s face, but the only sound the man had produced so far was a low groan.
His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t open them, despite Johnny pleading for him to.
“Yeah, I tried to offer him one too, and he shook his head at me,” Dash added. “He clung to his guitar the whole set. Whenever I glanced over at him, he was staring at the strings, which he never does when he plays.”
I was just stepping around behind the couch when I noticed streaks of red all over Johnny’s chest. “Johnny man, you’re bleeding,” I said, all eyes turning to him now, including Draven’s, as he rushed to get to his boyfriend’s side.
Johnny rubbed his fingers through the mess and shook his head. “It’s not mine.”
Frowning, he bent over Rebel and carefully turned his head. “Shit, it’s his.”
“What the fuck?” I yelped, leaning over the back of the couch to get a better look. “Shit, it is.”
“Did that happen in the crowd?” Dash asked.
“I think so; they tried to start a mosh pit around him when he jumped the barricade,” I said just as the EMTs stepped into the room and backed everyone off but me, since I was the only one not in the way.
“He’s bleeding from somewhere on his head,” Johnny informed them. “He jumped into the crowd earlier to help a fan, then sat for the rest of our set. We think he got hurt out there.”
“We’ll take care of it from here,” the female EMT said.
She had a bright red ponytail trailing down her back as she started taking Rebel’s vitals. Before long, they maneuvered a backboard beneath him so they could load him onto a gurney. Not only hadn’t Rebel opened his eyes, but he hadn’t even moaned when they’d shone a bright light into them and tried several times to elicit a response by rubbing the center of his chest. Completely limp and eerily still, he just lay there as they wheeled him out the door to the waiting ambulance, with the rest of us trailing behind them.
Dash shot me a look full of fear, and I slung an arm over his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. I was terrified too, but they’d known him longer. It didn’t feel right to let my fear show when Johnny was wiping the tears from his eyes with the hand that wasn’t clutching Draven’s in what looked to be a death grip. The vibe was somber when they loaded him in the back of the ambulance, Sully hopping in the back to ride with him since only one of us could go and a guard needed to remain by his side at all times. It had almost resulted in an argument between Johnny and Draven, because Johnny had desperately wanted to go, but he’d learned to respect the difference between Draven in the role of Daddy and lover and Draven in the role of manager.
“Sully is going with him; I’m following in the SUV with Jett,” Draven declared. “You three are staying here for the signing. I’ll update you as soon as I have something to share.”
That he said it, voice raspy as he strained to speak every word loud enough that it could be heard, instead of using his text-to-speech device, was further proof of the gravity of the situation. Nodding, Dash and I held our hands out to Johnny, who crumbled in our embrace the moment he’d finished hugging Draven. For a moment we just stood there, clinging to one another, my shirt growing damp with Johnny’s tears.