Page 48 of Echoes of a Muted Song

To top it off, he’d practically spent the day living in Dash’s back pocket, having latched on to him like a damned barnacle. It wouldn’t be an issue if he was chill about it, shadowing, watching and learning the way Kit was. But the only time his mouth stopped running was when there was music playing, and every goddamned time I caught sight of him, it was with a different drink in his hand, which meant Dash had one, too.

At least it wasn’t Rebel, though I could see him getting involved in whatever little drinking contest was going on, if he didn’t have his guitar in his hands. Ultimately, I knew it was up to Ozzy to pick his relief drummer, but I sure as hell hoped it wouldn’t be Claude.

As the song changed, he nudged Dash, then waved a member of the waitstaff over and asked for more drinks. He’d better not turn out to be a rowdy drunk and wreck the vibe we had going, or he and I would have words, as would me and Ozzy.

Glancing to my left, I saw Kit take a toke and reach out to me, now that I had a moment to hit it. He smiled when our eyes met.

“Man, this is a once in a lifetime moment,” he said, voice raised only enough to be heard.

Sure was better than the bellows of hell yeah and right on Claude let out whenever there was a lull. The guy had to have taken at least a hundred selfies, with how often he broke out the camera and leaned against Dash or any of the people who happened to be near enough to him to be captured in the shot.

Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen Kit with his phone in his hands all day.

Now that I thought about it more, it dawned on me that the people around Dash and Claudekept changing. I’d lay Vegas odds that they were switching seats to get the hell away from Claude, despite the fact that the chairs around him were in a prime spot near the fire pit. The night was growing cooler, too. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to give my place to anyone.

I didn’t even know what time it was, just that the stars were beginning to fade, damn.

My eyes sought out Draven’s, and I spotted him leaning against a pillar watching me and nodding along to whatever the event organizer was telling him.

We finished out “‘Round Here” and “3AM,” “A Long December” and “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” the transition between songs having grown so comfortable that the only pauses were to sip drinks, roll shoulders and take the occasional request.

“Three more songs, and then we’ve got to say goodnight,” Jagger said, cutting off the soft grumbles and Claude’s loud, obnoxious boo, by adding, “you guys have been so awesome, hanging out with us tonight, but if we don’t get some rest before tomorrow’s show, we’re not gonna be awesome, but we will be in the doghouse.”

And just like that the grumbles turned to giggles and laughter as everyone settled in for the final three tunes.

With no set list and no set plan, I waited to see how Keegan and Rebel intended to bring thingsto a close, and they didn’t disappoint in their song choices.

“Comfortably Numb” had always been a favorite, and everyone seemed to know the words or at least enough of it to join the chorus and hum though the verses. “Rollin’ Stoned” was another crowd pleaser and leave it to Rebel to finish with “Simple Man,” it was such a statement piece for him.

As the final echoes of the song faded, I leaned against Jagger and Keegan slung one of those long arms around us both and hugged us.

“Let’s wait for security to thin the crowd a little before we start moving,” Christine said.

She was standing now, one hand on my shoulder, the same way Zyon had a hand on Keegan’s and Jett had one on Rebel. Steel stood ever watchful at Jagger’s side while Sully was right there, watching every little thing that went on as people began to disperse.

Only when it was down to the band members did we stand, Claude and Dash lingering, engaged in a steady stream of conversation as the rest of us started moving.

“Hey, Dash, better get a move on before you’re chugging energy drinks all day tomorrow,” I called out, hoping to prompt him into action.

“Gonna have to do that already,” Dash replied, words a little slurred, but not too bad.

They were still slurred enough that I was glad the night was through because I knew him andI knew he was already going to have one hell of a headache in the morning.

“There’ll be time enough to sleep when we’re dead,” Claude replied, quoting one of the lines from an earlier song we’d song.

While I appreciated the sentiment, he didn’t know Dash the way I knew Dash and Dash required at least six hours of sleep or we’d have one grumpy bassist on our hands.

“I can’t tap out now,” Dash said, lifting his empty bottle. “We’re still tied.”

“And you can stay tied until tomorrow,” I suggested, as a tiny voice in the back of my head giggled.

Okay, fair, it was kinda funny that Johnny ‘life of the party’ Amaral was telling someone else when to shut shit down, but that brush I’d had with the law had been more than enough to teach me the importance of moderation.

“Meh, what’s the fun in that?” Claude grumbled.

“How many drinks behind am I?” Rebel asked, perking up a bit from where he’d been slumped in his chair.

Great, lovely, Claude was really starting to piss me off now.

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