Page 91 of Rock Out Together
She realized she had a huge grin on her face while she was revisiting last night’s foray, and she let out an embarrassed laugh.
He squeezed her in a side hug that only lasted a few seconds. “This is nice. Let’s put the bullshit behind us once and for all.”
She let out a deep breath and nodded, simply because she was tired of fighting.
They stayed outside for a long time signing autographs and talking to fans, before they walked into the venue in silence, both feeling the gravity of tonight’s finale.
When they made it backstage to the main lounge, Sid and Zach were arguing. She exchanged a frustrated glance with Dillon. They both shook their heads, but neither were surprised.
“Can’t you two get along for five minutes?” Dillon barked at them.
“We have one night left together and then we can all go our separate ways,” Lizzy added. “Doesn’t that make you feel a little bit remorseful about what we’re losing? Don’t you have any sentiment toward the band at all?”
“This band was over a long time ago.” Zach glared at Sid. “Once one band member stifles the other’s creativity, there’s no working together.”
“Get over yourself. I didn’t stifle your creativity,” Sid denied, vehemently. He was as self-righteousas ever, and not the least bit sorry about it. “I didn’t like your guitar solo and vetoed it.”
“Who the fuck are you to veto my guitar arrangement? You’re just a fuckin’ singer. You don’t even know how to play an instrument. I was voted one of the top 10 guitar players in the world. Were you voted one of the top 10 singers?” Zach shook his head. “Not even close.”
Sid replied with a bored roll of his eyes.
As Lizzy listened to Zach finally have his say, she realized he made some valid points. Sid was the reason everyone was frustrated. He thought it was his band just because he was the lead singer and predominant songwriter. And Walter, their manager, constantly pacified him. Sid wrote some great songs, but he was a conceited asshole.
Dillon was next to her listening to Zach verbally assault Sid with years of pent-up grievances. She thought Dillon was going to join in with his own gripes, but she realized he was enjoying the show. She wished she could find amusement in the fiasco in front of her, like Dillon, but it just made her sad.
The little time they had left together must have triggered some long-lost memories, because she wasn’t angry anymore. Well, part of her was still angry, but nostalgia was her most prevalent emotion right now. Instead of focusing on the present-day clashing of personalities, she reminisced about the early days when they were all enamored with the idea of making it big. They had supported one another and congratulated each other on individual achievements and accreditations back then.
Sid was the youngest, barely 20 when Blind Furyembarked on its journey to fame. He had been wide-eyed and eager with an air of confidence and a voice that shook the walls with clarity and power. He commanded the stage from day one, and when he started strutting around the stage, you couldn’t look away.
Zach had the most talent, and everyone recognized it right away. There was a natural ease in the way he played the guitar, as if he and his instrument were one and the same. Like they had a longstanding relationship that went back to another lifetime. Sadly, that’s what started the tension in the band because it made Sid jealous.
Lizzy’s thoughts shifted to Dillon. A gifted drummer, he played with pure heart. He put together beats that made your body move and your blood pulse. They’d hit it off really well in the beginning and wrote a lot of music together. But that didn’t last long. For the last few years, they all wrote bits and pieces separately because they couldn’t be in the same room without it turning into World War III. She always expected the songs to sound disjointed and rough once they were done, but they somehow always came together and kicked ass.
She watched Dillon watch Sid and Zach as they argued. His chest broadened as he took a deep breath. His dark, wavy hair fell over his shoulders and landed just above his elbow. His jeans, ripped at the knee, hung low on his hips and afforded her a tiny peek of skin. The vision of his naked body lying across the bed this morning suddenly popped into her head, and she sucked in a deep breath.
Luckily, Sid and Zach’s voices grew louder and drew herthoughts away from Dillon’s naked body, because she didn’t know what the hell was going on in her head right now.
“We’re a fuckin’ band,” Zach spat at Sid. “We’re supposed to collaborate. You were always too damn jealous to consider anything anyone else had to say. You always shot down everything any of us suggested. You had the record label in your back pocket and used it to manipulate us.”
Sid wasn’t flustered at all. He answered calmly with a self-righteous sneer. “That’s because no one ever offered anything that was worth considering.”
The remark infuriated Lizzy because she was included in that statement. She was a talented singer and songwriter, but Sid made it clear early on that he had no interest in hearing any of her ideas or suggestions. He was possessive over his role as lead singer—threatened was more like it—and he had scoffed at her when she said she wanted to take a stab at singing one of Blind Fury’s hit songs.
She never stopped writing lyrics, but eventually stopped pursuing the idea of presenting them to the band. Sid had oppressed her for long enough, and she was done glossing over the biggest issue at hand. But, instead of joining in the argument and being forthright, she decided to be nice. “Sid, I wrote some really good songs,” she said, calmly, without attitude. “You could have listened to some of them. Tonight’s our last show. How about you let me sing one song? It’ll be something the fans won’t expect and something they’ll remember. It’ll be great. I promise.”
Sid snorted at her. “Chicks don’t sing heavy metal. I’m the lead singer. You play the bass. We don’t interchange our rolesin the band. If you had accepted your place, it would have been a lot easier for all of us.”
“My place?” Her temper burned red hot, and her heartrate skyrocketed. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? I’m a damn good singer. You’d know that if you ever gave me a chance.”
“Are you still on this kick about singing?” Zach complained. “Give it a rest already, Lizzy. He’s never going to let you anywhere near a microphone.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Stay out of it. I was talking to Sid.”
“You would have made a fool of yourself,” Sid told Lizzy. “I wasn’t going to ruin our reputation by indulging you with your little fantasy. And I’m certainly not going to let you sabotage our last show. Stick to what you know.” He looked her up and down. “Wear your tight little outfits and shake your ass. Leave the singing to a professional.”
Lizzy’s nostrils flared with seething anger like she never felt before, and she clenched her jaw in an attempt to remain calm. “You son of a bitch.”
Dillon surprised her by stepping into Sid’s personal space and pointed a menacing finger dangerously close to Sid’s face. “Show some fuckin’ respect, asshole.”
