Page 24 of Echoes of a Muted Song

“He pulled off the solo of a lifetime tonight, man, I can’t believe you missed it,” Dash declared.

“The drawbacks to being your manager,” I typed, having to finally put Johnny down after kissing him soundly. “I was back here lining up a few more shows. We got Boston and Worchester for the summer, just like you guys wanted, then we’re heading north to play festivals in Vermont and Maine. Still no word on a Quebec finale but I’m working on it, I know you guys have been dying to do a show up there and I will make it happen if it’s at all possible.”

“We know you will, man,” Rebel said. “That’s still ten months away. I ain’t even worried.”

“None of us are,” Ozzy said. “We’re just livin’ in the now.”

“Someone live streamed tonight,” I typed. “That’s what tipped the scales and got people to finally hit me back after that email blast I sent. Our fans are making this happen for us.”

“Then we’ll have to come up with the best way we can to thank them,” Dash said as he stalked past me to snag a water from a tray brimming with ice and an assortment of drinks. Ozzywas already munching on a pile of onion rings while Rebel lifted the lid on the warming tray to reveal the ribeye sandwiches and au jus sauce the kitchen had provided us. The moment the scent hit me, my stomach growled, but I still had work I needed to do before I grabbed something. We were slated to hit the road in the morning, but before that my guys had a signing to prepare for which meant that I needed to make sure our roadies had the merch table set up.

I caught Christine’s eye and inclined my head toward the door and she nodded, falling in beside me as I headed back inside to the sound of Jagger singing the first song he’d ever sung for us. Back then, he’d been desperate to sound just like me. Now he put his own stank on it and it was amazing. Lingering, I listened until the song was finished before I headed on to the room where the signing would be held.

Damage Control had already secured it, our roadie crew had everything laid out and there was water on the table in front of every chair, along with the stacks of photos for the band members to sign. Five sharpies in bright colors waited at every band member’s seat, and I knew they’d all work fine, since the guys in the crew were constantly checking them before they laid them out. That’s why I’d handpicked the crew.

So, what had I been in such a hurry to check on?

Chuckling to myself, I walked through theroom anyway, though there wasn’t a need. I’d taken careful steps to prevent fuckups, which had included hiring a head roadie to oversee every move. Like Damage Control they knew their jobs and they were good at it, but like Sully said, it would take time before trust could be established. I just needed to be kinder to myself, give myself a break when I started rushing around worrying about things not getting done. The past had shown me what happened when management didn’t keep a firm handle on every aspect of the things going on with their bands.

The other reason I was so restless tonight and desperate for everything to run perfectly was for Johnny. As a group, we’d agreed to no after parties tonight and no going out and getting into anything that could potentially wind up in the media. We weren’t drinking, we weren’t clubbing, and we sure as hell weren’t trolling for hookups after we got done here. It was straight back to the hotel and onto the buses in the morning, with three radio station appearances slated throughout the day. Not only had one of the biggest grunge-alternative stations invited us to come on, but DJ Shayne had agreed to do an interview with Johnny, to give him the opportunity to speak about the accident and give his side of the story.

I hoped it would help his situation, since so far, the lines had remained silent on the whole reward situation, at least according to his lawyerwhen Johnny had touched base with him earlier in the day, just after he’d finished doing a video chat interview with a reporter from back home. When I’d asked him how it had gone, he’d just said,we’ll seeand headed past me to our room to lay out his clothes for the night. At least he wasn’t shutting me out.

A hand up my back jerked me out of my thoughts, and I blinked to see Johnny grinning up at me with that impish smile as he cocked his hip and flicked his tongue out at me.

“You better have been thinking about me,” he murmured as he tugged me in for a kiss.

“I was.”

Winking, he headed for his chair, while I slipped out with Christine before it became impossible, and it was a good thing, too. The line in the hall had already grown long enough to stretch behind the kitchen and from some of the outfits I saw, I fully expected a few of the band members to be asked to sign in some unconventional places.

Thus was the life of a rockstar.

I’d seen more tits and more asses in my days as frontman than I’d ever seen in a BDSM club. Signed more than my fair share, too. One girl had shared a photo on social media of the tattoo she’d gotten immediately after an event, where she’d had them ink over my signature, permanently etching it on her hip along with the chorus to “Drowning in Amber,” one of the songs I’d sungthat night. I gotta admit, it was pretty original, especially when the poster had revealed that Amber was her name.

See, that was the thing I’d always loved about music. The connection. The way people could approach a song a hundred different ways. Words resonated, the tone, the cadence, but also the way they were put together and the messages they sent. We’d written the first pieces of that song while watchingJurassic Parkfor the millionth time, that part about extracting the DNA from creatures trapped in the sap of trees having sparked Keegan to start scribbling. At first, we’d all thought he was just fucking around, putting together another silly piece to amuse us with, the way he tended to do when he was bored. Robbie had even asked why he’d bothered to put on the movie if he wasn’t going to watch it, but when he’d reached for the remote to find a different movie to stream, Keegan had thrown a pillow at his head and told him to leave it be, then he’d kept on scribbling.

Caught in a slow-moving slide

Unable to dance free of the storm

We wait to drown as the tide keeps rising

Unable to shield ourselves from the burning dawn

We watch the hail of fire

Shouting warnings that will never be heard

The slow tick of minutes morph into hours

As the world turns from smoke to ash

While we’re trapped drowning in amber

Waiting for the future to learn from the past.

It needed to. And we’d all stopped giving him shit about what he was working on after he’d shared that. Hell, the movie had faded into background noise as we’d stared working on lines of our own to add, images forming, not just out of what was taking place on the screen, but the things we’d seen in our news feeds. Cities burning while the government held people paralyzed with threats and fear, warning them against helping their neighbors and anyone else who didn’t fit with their plans for the perfect community.

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