Page 14 of Real Rocks
“If you’re sure?”
“Seriously, go. I’ll see you later.”
With Darren, Barney and Tommo gone and Trash Gun onstage, it was blissfully quiet and peaceful. From backstage, I could just about hear the band. Scott had informed me a guitar tech would come and collect me when it was time for me to go back on.
Knowing I had a few minutes, it seemed like a good time to call Tris. I found my phone in my bag and switched it on. When the screen sprang to life, there were messages from Jonas, Rosie and Tris.
Jonas wished us luck for the start of the tour.
Rosie told me to kick Scott in the balls for her.
Tris said he’d call me tomorrow.
I frowned at the last one. He’d been insistent we speak each night, so this message came as a surprise. I wanted to tell him how good the night had been, how much I loved performing and how much I missed him. It seemed it wouldn’t be today. Unsure of how to respond, I replied to Jonas and Rosie instead, then took a selfie and posted it on social media with a few strategic hashtags. It wouldn’t hurt to get TheSB a little more publicity during the next week.
“Saff? You ready?” The guitar tech poked his head into the room, the noise from the stage suddenly getting louder.
I stood up and shook my limbs out, rolling my head from side to side.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
10
Tris
“Ican’t believe you’re dating Saff Barnes.” Andy shook his head and sipped his pint. “Were you seeing her when you were working with us?”
It was Thursday night. Saff was playing in Cardiff and I’d contacted a couple of the guys I used to work with at the DIY store to see if they were up for a few drinks. I was going stir crazy in the house and if I had to watch another one of Aunt Annie’s quiz shows, I might have to throw something at the television. Andy and Jason had readily agreed. Their girlfriends were on a hen weekend, so they were at a loose end. We met in The Mason’s Arms, a local pub near Uncle Col and Aunt Annie’s house which had a pool table and decent music.
I wrinkled my nose. “Not back then. It’s um, complicated.” They didn’t need to know about Saff pushing me away after finding out about my jail spell. In fact, they didn’t need to know I’d been in prison. And they certainly didn’t need to know about the fake relationship agreement. “We were together before but weren’t seeing each other then.”
“But you’re definitely seeing her now?” asked Jason. His eyes practically bugged out of his head when I’d mentioned who my girlfriend was. Apparently, he was a big fan.
His question caught me by surprise. Of course I was seeing her now. “Yeah, I am.”
“Really? Because Hannah retweeted some picture fromThe Gossof her and Scott Lincoln from Trash Gun. They looked pretty cosy.”
The thought Saff was returning to her old ways hit me like a punch in the gut. After everything we’d been through, we were closer than ever. Or so I’d thought.
He showed me his phone with the retweet from his girlfriend. The photo looked to be from one of Trash Gun’s social media accounts. Scott and Saff were caught in an embrace on stage and she was looking up at him. The expression on her face appeared to be one of adoration. There was a caption about how well the tour was going and how much they enjoyed working with TheSB, nothing specific to the couple.
“Nothing to bother about. Looks like something they were asked to do by the record company.” I gulped down some beer to quell the uneasy sensation in my stomach. “Jonas said they were looking to get as much publicity from this tour as they could.”
The two guys nodded, as if only half-believing what I was saying. In truth, I had no idea if it was something the bands had to do. I knew visibility was important and assuming the lead singers of the bands were an item would definitely garner attention. But I thought Saff would have warned me if that were the case, so I’d be prepared for it. She hadn’t. Did it mean there was an attraction between them? I didn’t want to think about it.
“You guys want a game?” I passed Jason’s phone back to him and gestured towards the pool table which had become free. “Winner stays on?”
“Twenty quid says I beat both of you.” Andy puffed up his chest, ever confident he would be the one to win.
“Twenty says you don’t,” I countered.
“You’re on.” We shook hands on the bet and headed over to the table.
While Andy and Jason racked up the balls for the first frame, I went to the bar to get more drinks. As I waited to be served, I checked my phone. There had been no communication from Saff at all today. We’d talked when she’d arrived in Cardiff yesterday, but nothing since. Was there more to the photograph? Was Scott Lincoln another Troy Carson?
Uncertainty gripped at my heart. I shouldn’t let it get to me. But what was it Saff had said?
What happens on tour stays on tour.
