Page 88 of Feuds and Interludes
Boone leaned back against me, and I caught him stifling a yawn.
“We should probably get you back to the RV.”
Boone sighed. “Probably. We’ve got press to do tomorrow, right, Sammara?”
She turned around from where she was talking to the guys from Embrace the Fear.“Yes! I can’t wait to talk to you guys!” She waved and went back to taking notes.
“It was great to meet you,” Jaylene said, giving Boone a hug. “I’ll definitely let you know when we’re going to be in LA again.”
Devon and I stood and shook hands.
“Still miss you working on my guitars,” he said. “No one’s as good as you.”
I rolled my eyes, but Boone elbowed me. “You’re right. You should see his rig for playing slide! He played on one of our songs and I was blown away by how he set that thing up.”
Devon looked between us and smiled.“He customized that Gibson I played tonight. It’s still my favorite after all these years.”
We said good night and I put my arm around Boone to lead him out of their encampment.
“They are so awesome,” he said. “You have nice friends, Shane.”
And just then, we were faced with the last two guys I wanted to see here. So much for avoiding the drama.
“Dude,” Dean said, looking between us. “I can’t believe you replaced us withthemand fucking played cover tunes.” He wrinkled his nose at Boone, and then elbowed Drew.
“Fuck off,” I said, feeling my blood boil. How dare they insult Boone? “What are you even doing here?”
A third man turned around and joined them. “Oh, hey, if it isn’t the nepo babies.”
The lead singer of one of the nineties’ pop punk/ska bands stood before us with spiky blond hair and a dyed goatee, looking like a Guy Fieri wannabe in a bowling shirt with flames on itand pink board shorts. Mike Broward had been a has-been since Boone and I were toddlers.
“Mike,” I said, giving him a chin lift but not a handshake. He didn’t deserve to breathe Boone’s air, much less mine. “The fuck are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be playing nostalgia cruise ship shows? Warped Tour’s over, man.”
“We’re headlining second stage tomorrow night. I’ve got a new album coming out, and your band made themselves available for me. They decided to come on over to the side of commercial success rather than wasting away in the doldrums with you.”
This scenario was so ridiculous, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I was living in a nineties teen comedy.
“Yeah, well, good luck with all that. I’m glad to not be carrying around dead weight.” I put my arm around Boone and led him away, but he stopped and turned around.
“We might have benefited from nepotism, but at least we’re making music that’s relevant to this century. By the way,Now That’s What I Call Musicis still making CDs. Maybe they’ll be able to finally get you that hit on the pop charts. Buh-bye.”
Mike laughed and called out, “Damn, Shane. Hey, if the twink doesn’t put out or runs his prissy little mouth, just grab him by the hair. He’s much more cooperative that way.”
I froze, and Boone’s eyes narrowed. I was about to get up in his face when Boone took my hand and dragged me away.
Dean and Drew turned on Mike, though, and I could hear their raised voices from a distance.Good.They were assholes, but at least they weren’t worthless pieces of shit.
“That’s not even an original burn. Nepo baby? Jesus. Who the hell dressed him? He’s rather old to be shopping at Hot Topic.”
“Hold up,” I said, pulling Boone to a stop. “Why did he say that?”
Boone rolled his eyes. “Why do you think?”
“Did you…with Mike Broward?”
“Not after he pulled my hair, not willingly. But yeah, I did some stupid shit when I was young. You got a problem with that?”
“No,” I said, putting my hands on his arms. “God, no. My first time was almost with a roadie for Motley Crüe.”
