Page 14 of Drum Me Away
Without giving me a chance to argue again, she bounced on her heel and rushed back to the front of the stage, grabbed her mic, and said, “Denver, we’re not done with you yet!”
The fans screamed and jumped around like maniacs.
“How do you all feel about getting a special treat tonight? Something no one else in the world has heard before?”
More screaming, more hysteria. Shit, we were really doing this. Playing one ofmysongs. And Faith was the catalyst. I wanted to believe that meant something, but I knew better.
It was only ever about the band.
“Tonight,” she yelled into the mic, “we have a brand-new song for you. We haven’t even officially recorded it yet. And you get to hear it here, right now, for the first time ever. How fucking awesome is that?”
Of course they went apeshit crazy. They’d been rocking out for damn near ninety minutes now, and nobody seemed to want to stop.
This was what it was all about. This feeling. This sensation that all was absolutely fucking perfect in the world. Well, almost. If Faith and I were sharing a hotel room tonight, then my life would be unconditionally flawless.
Still standing, I slammed my sticks against the drums,ratatatat, kicking off the song. Faith started humming, Matt joined in a couple beats later. Dean clutched his bass, holding his pick, ready to join the melody. Craig walked over to stand next to him, their instruments held at exactly the same angle. Ice started in with the keyboards, low, a little haunting.
Our songs tended to be heavy or ballads, not much in between. Which was okay, because that was what sold. What our fans wanted.
This one was different. It wasn’t pop, but it definitely had a more fun edge than our usual stuff. It wasn’t a headbanger; if this were the ’90s, it would be played in clubs in between “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails and “C’mon ’N Ride It (The Train)” by Quad City DJs.
I wasn’t sure our fans were ready for this yet, but no way in hell would I have been able to say no to Faith. Yeah, yeah, I got that was exactly why we’d been living a damn lie for the past four years, but whatever.
I was still glad we were playing it, testing it out. If the crowd didn’t like it, we’d scrap it. Simple as that.
Fuck me, they loved it. The mosh pit turned into one of those flash mobs that popped up in malls over in Europe. Fans were dancing like they’d practiced to this song for ages, and other than the bus driver, Gabe, and Matt’s family, no one outside of the band had ever heard it before.
We’d nailed it. Damn, we had only just started this tour and already I couldn’t wait to get into the recording studio to work on our next album.
Life was so fucking perfect right now.
The song ended, and the crowd immediately began chanting for more, but seriously, we had to cut them off at some point. We were riding high on adrenaline, but we were all exhausted. It was time to wrap it up.
I jogged to the front of the stage and inserted myself between Faith and Matt, draping one arm over Matt’s shoulders and slipping the other around Faith’s waist, while the rest of the band stepped up and fanned out to form a wall, facing our fans. Dean and Craig tossed their picks into the crowd, and I crouched and handed my sticks to a young girl who couldn’t be more than ten, standing in the front row with an older guy I assumed was her dad. Her hair was dyed pink, like Faith’s had been last year, and she wore a DarkHeaven T-shirt and black Vans. She probably had posters of Faith on her wall in her bedroom.
We finally walked off, stage left, where a kid who was an intern or assistant or some shit was holding all our phones. I figured he worked for Gabe, although I never saw him except at the beginning of our shows when he collected all our phones, and then at the end when he handed them all back. It was a practice we’d started after I cracked my third phone by sitting on it while beating on my drums on stage.
When the kid handed Faith her phone, he said, “Yours has been blowing up for the last hour or so.”
I snorted. “Social media pings.”
He shook his head. “Phone calls.”
Faith glanced down at the screen she’d lit up. Six missed calls, one voicemail. Her brow furrowed as she wandered over to a relatively quiet corner.
I followed. “What is it?”
She lifted the phone to her ear. “No idea.”
A few seconds later, her face crumpled. Just collapsed, like a building during an earthquake. She jerked her head up and caught my gaze, and her eyes were flooded with tears.
“What’s wrong?” I demanded, stepping closer.
She pushed a button on the screen and swiped at the water on her cheeks, moving backward until she bumped into the wall. A sob escaped before she stuffed her fist into her mouth.
Shit.
I glanced around at the people milling about, most of them making their way down the hall toward the dressing rooms. A few glanced our way, but luckily no one raised a phone and tried to snap a pic of Faith very obviously having some sort of breakdown.
