Wait.
I stopped and grabbed the notebook Rebel had in front of him, pen and all, and dragged them across the table so I could scribble down that line. When I went to slide it back, he shookhis head and made a shooing motion at me, encouraging me to keep going, so I snatched up my sticks and started back at the beginning, Dash steadily playing along. The start-stop was rough and messy as more words came, but once they started flowing as I started to pour Josh’s story onto that page, I couldn’t stop, and not a single one of them interrupted me.
That’s when it dawned on me that I was actually contributing something new to the band who’d brought me in and embraced me. Their smiles and silent encouragement became my motivator, filling me with a sense of pride and accomplishment that rivaled only the moment they’d chosen me over Claude to fill in for Ozzy. I’d known it wasn’t because I was better; it was just because Claude was an asshole. Now I owed him a thank you for being a raging dick, because I wouldn’t have this moment, or these men in my life right now.
“I need my guitar,” Rebel declared the next time Dash and I stopped playing so I could add more to the lyrics. “Like now.”
He didn’t wait for anyone to agree; he just took off with dried bubble foam all over the back of his t-shirt. I wondered if it itched and was making him uncomfortable, not that I’d noticed any squirming from him as Dash and I had worked on our parts. He’d been completely dialed in on me and the music.
Which is when it dawned on me that I’d never seen him glance over at Dash, not even once.
This time, the pleasure that flooded me wasn’t entirely about the song. There was no denying now that the connection forming between us was just a hair different from the bonds that were growing between me and the band, and like with the music we were crafting, I couldn’t wait to see how far we could run with it.
Chapter 16
(Rebel)
It had shocked me to learn that the metal scene in Cheyenne was booming, but selling out the venue there had sure as hell driven that point home. KWYX had invited us to perform a live, acoustic set, which we were just wrapping up at the huge amphitheater downtown, leaving us with a Q and A session with the fans in attendance, and honestly, I was looking forward to it.
With DJ No Doze acting as the MC, we sat on the edge of the stage, mics in hand, waiting to answer the questions they posed for us. Rather than having the whole thing turn into a feeding frenzy, fans had been told to text their questions to a message board the station had set up. Talk about brilliant.
“Alright folks, simmer down, and let's see what you chose to ask the band,” DJ No Doze announced.
The folks truly must have been curious because the dull roar of cheers that still rang out began to smooth out to low murmurs and the occasional fangirl scream.
“So, this first question is directed at the band in general,” DJ No Doze declared. “Cherry Q. would like to know if any of you have hobbies outside of music.”
“That’s me; I’m Cherry Q!” A voice called, waving at us from atop a large man’s shoulders.
I could see where she’d gotten the name Cherry; her hairreminded me of the kind I loved to heap on top of my favorite dessert, not that I’d had an ice cream sundae in what felt like forever. Couldn’t go to an ice cream parlor without a metric fuckton of security bullshit and getting them delivered half-melted wasn’t on any to-do list of mine.
“Alright Cherry,” Dash said. “I’ll take the lead on that one. I do, in fact, have a hobby. I love to take pictures, specifically of all the amazing architecture we encounter on our travels. The older the better, but I love modern buildings too. Every region, hell, every city has something unique that begs to be captured and immortalized. My favorites hang on the walls of my home to remind me of the amazing journey we’ve been on for the last decade. Next year, when we head overseas for the first time, I’m looking forward to adding the cityscapes of London, Inverness, and Edinburgh, which you’ll all be able to check out on our website.”
A cheer rose up from the fans, several of whom started typing away on their phones when DJ No Doze announced the website address for those who might not have found it yet.
“I guess I’m next,” Johnny declared, since he was sitting between Dash and Ozzy. “I’m not sure if this counts as a hobby, but I’m a major foodie, so anytime I have the opportunity to try something new, especially if it’s extreme or, at the very least, not mainstream, I’m there. Ultimate pickle challenges, monster sandwiches, and off-the-wall ice cream flavors, I welcome it all. While we’re here in Cheyenne, I have every intention of diving into a Solar Eclipse Burrito just to see how far I’ll get.”
“And how far into orbit he can send the tour bus when he starts farting up the place,” Ozzy added, drawing laughter and snickers from the fans, who seemed pleased that Johnny wanted to add one of their own local treasures to his laundry list of food challenges.
“Better have your gas masks handy!” someone in the crowd called out, making everyone crack up all over again.
“Yeah, we’re doomed,” Ozzy said. “But, having something, anything, to act as a brain break when you’re on the road aslong as we are, is a healthy coping mechanism. For me, it hasn’t been easy to find something that holds my attention the way my drum kit has, but I love getting my hands on a new card game and bribing the rest of the guys into playing it with me. As a result, we have quite the mobile game collection. I’m always on the lookout for a new one too, so if you’ve found one you love, drop me a line on the band’s message board so I can check it out.”
He wasn’t the only one who loved those games. Anytime he got a new one, I was the first one at the table, ready and willing to test it out with him. Discovering that Kit was just as much of a fan had made for some amazing game nights already, especially during our downtime at the campground. We’d played so many rounds ofDoomlingsthat we’d finally got the hang of the game and didn’t have to consult the rules as often.
“So, I guess it’s on me,” Kit declared. “Though I’m kind of ashamed to admit that I really haven’t given much thought to anything besides helping to create new music since I’ve joined the band. Back home, I’ve got quite a seashell and rock collection, though, and I love getting my hands on pieces of sea glass and driftwood just to see what I can turn them into.”
Having said that, I made it my personal mission to ensure that the next time we played somewhere coastal, he’d have the chance to wander the shore and scavenge as many things as he could find.
“Tinkering with classic cars,” I said when it was my turn. “If it wasn’t for shop classes, I’d have never had an A grade on my high school report cards. I know they’re made of metal, but to me, all those old machines have a unique soul. There’s nothing better than taking the time to restore one to its former glory, than heading out on a long road trip, windows down, radio blaring, just to leave the rest of the world behind me.”
I didn’t add that I'd love to have someone in the passenger’s seat riding along, though I glanced at Kit when I thought it and caught him grinning at me. I hoped it was a sign that he’d be up for volunteering, or I was going to be facing a lonely trip down the coast when the ‘63 Impala I’d been working on was done.
Wait.
That might be the selling point right there. Miles of beaches for him to explore, a tote or two in the back for him to keep his treasures in, and the promise of seafood feasts beneath the stars. Yeah. He might just go for that. My only hope was that Draven wasn’t going to require us to have guards present once the tour was over, because it would seriously suck to have eyes and ears present while trying to enjoy a bit of time alone.
Fuck. How was anyone supposed to get any privacy with permanent shadows along for the ride?