Page 85 of Living on the Edge

“Give me a sec to grab my stuff.” I run over to Bobby and fill him in and then motion to Ryleigh to follow me on stage.

“I just want you to be yourself,” she says. “Talk about your process in getting ready for a show, and then I’ll record how it looks when they pour the water on you during the show tonight. Hopefully, I’ll get some good shots so I can edit them into this video.”

“Sure thing.” I get up on my set and twirl my sticks. “Tell me when.”

“Okay… 3-2-1—I’m recording!”

The rest of the band is in the wings, obviously planning to watch, but it doesn’t bother me. I can talk about music, and my drums, for hours. And I don’t get the chance to do it very often, so this is fun for me.

I take a bottle of water that Bobby had left for me to drink and pour some on the snare drum. “So the whole thing happened by accident,” I say into the camera. “I was hot one day, and I poured an ice-cold bottle of water over my head. Some of it got onto the snare and this happened—” I tap on the drum and water bounces up. I tap a little harder and more water flies around. “I thought it looked cool, so then I started doing it on purpose. With a lot more water and a lot more energy.”

We record for three or four minutes and then Ryleigh sticks her phone back in her pocket.

“That was awesome,” she says. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” I get up again and throw an arm around her shoulders as we walk off stage.

She’d made it clear she expected me to own it if I marked her, and the two hickeys on her neck are impossible to hide, so I’m doing as she asked. I catch the looks of surprise from Mick and Jonny, Tate just smirks, and Sam is talking quietly with Kirsten.

“What are you doing?” Ryleigh whispers to me.

“If there’s going to be talk, it’s easier to rip the band-aid off,” I whisper back.

“O-kayyy.” She shakes her head as she draws out the word but also doesn’t move away from me.

“I see two people who should not be left unsupervised,” Tate quips as we head toward our dressing room.

“I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want to supervise,” Ryleigh shoots back. “We can be loud.”

Tate laughs.

“How long has this been going on?” Mick asks.

“A day,” Ryleigh responds before I can. “Maybe thirty hours or so…you got a problem with it?”

I really love her sassy mouth.

“Nope. Just curious.” Mick grins at me and goes over to the table of food that’s waiting for us.

“How come you don’t want to record the rest of us doing fun shit?” Tate demands, pretending to pout.

Ryleigh laughs. “That wasn’t forRock Harder—it was for my social media channels. If you want to do something with me, I’d love it. But not everyone feels that what influencers do is important. Or even legitimate. So I don’t like to ask until I’m sure the person is okay with it.”

“How come?” Mick asks, his mouth full of pasta.

“I guess there’s a lot of misinformation, along with a lack of understanding about how it works.”

“I don’t really get it, either,” Tate admits. “But I don’t hate on it.”

“At the end of the day, I put up videos where I talk about rock music. For example, when the Crimson Edge album came out, I listened to it and loved it. I made a video talking about what I liked about the band, the album, and specific songs. People have started to pay attention to what I’m listening to. I don’t have a million followers or anything, but I’m getting there.

“No one has to watch my videos or comment on them, but for some reason, they do. And the more engagement I get, the more clicks, likes, and follows, the more sponsorship opportunities come up. That’s part of how I make money.”

“What happens if youdon’tlike a band?” Jonny asks.

“I try to be more positive on my channel, so I don’t go out of my way to talk about a band I don’t like. Like Karnal Death. I can’t stand their music, but I keep that to myself.”

Karnal Death is Callum’s band.

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