Page 67 of Revel

You know in the movies when they show you a montage of scenes where they recap a series of events? I’m going to do that for you to give a taste of those fourteen days and what they lead up to.

I must first add, when Revel is out of control, there’s no talking him down. He’s going to do what he wants regardless of what anyone else says.

In Phoenix, we perform “Tennessee Whiskey” in front of twenty-five-thousand people. It’s during the chorus when his eyes never leave mine I finally understandwhyhe chose the song. Beautifully broken, this guy’s liquid vice goes deeper than I ever knew, and I wish I was enough for him. It’s later that night he gets in a fight with the concert bouncers for what reason no one, including himself, knows. Seriously though, who gets in a fight with a concert bouncer when you’re the one performing?

The answer is a simultaneous, Revel Slade. Also that night, he does cocaine off the drums and shoves Hardin off the stage into the audience. He also burns his shirt on stage for reasons none of us know.

At the Sprint Center in Kansas City, he has a bottle of wine before the show and incites a riot in the crowd to which sixty-three people are arrested. Surprisingly, Revel is not one of them.

Between the Detroit and Grand Rapids shows, we record “Roses of Revenge” in one day in the basement of a bar that his friend owns. It’s effortless and unique and everything I imagined a duet to be with him.

In Napa, California, at the Napa Valley Expo, it’s our first performance at the end of the night where we do a song together with all the bands. Revved, after three bottles of wine, decides on “You Shook Me All Night Long” and let me just say this, my chemistry on stage with Revel is unreal. If Hensley didn’t hate me before, she certainly does now. I have no idea what’s going on with me and Revel, if anything, but he’s all over me any time we’re on stage together, and Hensley notices. Everyone notices.

For a while, I think it’s only because of her and he’s doing it to get a reaction from her, or Breckin, or my dad. As you can see, so many possibilities here and I’m left confused yet intrigued by the attention. It makes me feel wanted, beautiful, and something only he makes me experience—desired by the king of rock and roll. With his persona as a sex symbol, I feel untouchable on stage.

I thought doing a song together would be a disaster, one trying to up the other, but I have to admit, it goes seamlessly into the encore and the crowd goes crazy for it.

In Salt Lake City, Utah, after a two-night show, Revel and Deacon stay up until seven the next morning and play me an acoustic version of Creedence Clearwater Revival, my favorite band growing up,Green Riveralbum. I can’t sleep the next day just thinking about that night and the way his voice stays with me even when he’s not in the room.

Your voice is my favorite sound.

It’s in Vegas at the T-Mobile Arena where I realize how deep I’m in with Revel. It happens when I hear him play an acoustic version of Bob Dylan’s “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door.” As he sits center stage, his foot propped up on the last rung of a wooden stool, I see it for the first time. The loneliness he hides so well and unfortunately, how bad his drinking problem is. All that aside, it’s the words falling from his lips that I react to. It’s those tragically beautiful lyrics that worry me.

Surrounded by smoke, he sounds in pain. Tortured, agitated by wounds that run so deep. Every once in a while, a singer will come around who can transport you into another world with the power of their voice in such an effortless manner you don’t even realize it’s happening. Until you’re breathless.

Until you don’t even realize you’re crying.

That’s what Revel Slade does to you.

Liz approaches me, her smile genuine, but I can tell there’s a warning coming. “He looks good tonight,” I tell her, making conversation.

“He is.” The song ends, Revel stands, reaching for his other guitar a stagehand gives him, but sways in the process. “But he has a problem.”

I know what she’s referring to. His drinking. I hadn’t realized how bad it truly was, or perhaps I hadn’t wanted to see it, but truth be told, I never see him without a drink in his hand, or nearby.

“There’s a reason why the band’s called Revved. When he gets to a certain point, there’s no going back.”

There’s no going back? Did that mean his drinking or love? Ha. You and I both know someone like Revel doesn’t love. After seeing the way he treats Hensley, I doubt he felt anything for her. And if he did, how deep could it have been if it was so easily discarded the moment it ended?

Revved’s set ends. Revel’s the first off stage, reaching for his cigarettes and the bottle of whiskey he’d been taking shots from the entire night.

He makes his way toward me, pausing as he gets within touching distance. His chest expands with a deep breath. “What was that about?” he asks, wiping his face with a towel.

“She was commenting on how good you sounded out there.”

He reaches for me. Heated stares and fingers linger on my hip. He draws me close, his shirt clinging to his back with sweat. My lips part and I already taste him on my lips, the flavor I crave.

“And what did you think?” he asks, his gaze intense as he backs me up against a speaker.

I smile, focusing over his shoulder at Liz who’s watching us. “Amazing as always.”

He brushes my hair off my shoulder, his face as blank as an untouched canvas. He’s so good at controlling his emotions. He’s like the whiskey he’s drinking. Strong, powerful and if you’re like me, you underestimate its potency.

For the next two weeks leading up to Christmas, I spend every night with Revel, but only in the confines of the shadows of my tour bus and never in the public eye, never around his band, and certainly, not ever where my dad can see.

In the prying eyes of the public, we deny. We snub any question related to our relationship, because for the most part, neither of us know what’s happening. I’m adapting tohistour life. My inhibitions, my insecurities for not seeing myself as worthy of this genre, every single time I step on stage with him, they slip away. I become more assertive and I like the feeling of fitting into his world. Yet still, he denies me. He refuses to have sex with me. Every time we get to a point of no return, he pulls back.

I think it’s me.

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