Page 31 of Replay
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The gig went surprisingly well.Only a couple of hiccups, but the crowd, consisting of die-hard fans, were forgiving.The atmosphere was relaxed.Jubilant.Everyone was happy to share in the humour when they ruthlessly mocked one another after an initial false start to one of their biggest hits.Xane had been on a roll, and that always carried them.Some shows, Xane got this demented, demonic gleam in his eyes, which would set everyone alive, on stage and off it.He’d ooze sex appeal, and his whole body would seem to become one with the music.The fans loved it.Hell, he loved it.Little moved him the way Xane did when he lit up and exposed his soul like a man possessed.The crowd sang along with him, lapping up his swaggering performance, becoming hypnotised by it, so when the rest of them stepped back and the lights dimmed to a single spot-light centred upon their lead singer, and Xane sang, just him and an acoustic guitar, every person in the room felt the chills.
Ice chips and diamonds raining like tears, was how Xane’s voice pulled at the heart when it was unaccompanied.A hush fell over the audience as they listened, and for a moment it would seem that he’d lost them on a sea of sorrow and memories, only to then drag them right back and cast them high into the heavens again.
It was extraordinary what one man could do with his voice.
However, the hero of the night award definitely went to Ronnie Bush.During rehearsals he’d slurped his way through at least a gallon of cola, and packet upon packet of strawberry laces and flying saucers, which made Spook want to reach for the paleo trail mix, but the guy had produced the goods.He’d gone from knowing two choruses and a couple of intros to a sets worth of songs in only a few hours.Alle was right; the lad had talent to spare, and charm of a sort too.It was impossible to dislike him.He was too kind.Too well-meaning, so effortlessly disarming.Curiously enough, the fans welcomed him with cheers.He’d spruced up his look a bit to fit in.Gone super heavy with the kohl around his eyes and opted for an all-black wardrobe, with a few splashes of silver.What they especially appreciated was that he didn’t fade into the background in the way that Liam had.The fans were used to more drama than that – Elspeth had conditioned them to expect it.
He went down surprisingly well at the extensive meet and greet session afterwards too.The fans were curious.How did he know the Black Halo guys, was he sticking around, joining the group.Sure, they’d take a look at his new single and his album when it dropped, even if it wasn’t their usual thing.He’d stood in, helped out.They’d been saving for this trip.It meant a lot.
Spook couldn’t listen in to all of it.He had a line of fans desperate to spend a few seconds with him.He talked guitars and riffs with a few of them, but mostly they just wanted an autograph or to shake his hand, or get a picture taken.A few of the ladies brought him gifts.A beanie hat with his name on it, a pair of hand painted high-tops, and a signed copy of a graphic novel he’d expressed an interest in during an interview of some sort.They sat down as a band afterwards, just for a few minutes of group decompression time and to remind themselves they were a family.Since the misery of losing Steve, the upheaval of Iain Willows, the near miss with Elspeth, and Ash’s long road to recovery, they’d been working on solidifying the bonds between them.It didn’t take much.A few minutes here and there, before and after a show.Remembering to breathe, to ask, “Hey, are you okay?”They were more relaxed, closer for it.Rather inevitably, it led to a discussion of why Liam hadn’t worked out.
“It was always a temporary measure,” Xane said.“He was never comfortable being on stage, or with us.”
“I kind of feel we should have done more.”Ash seemed more ready to find fault in their actions than the rest of them.“We knew he was finding it tough.I’m not sure we really did enough to support him.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, he never wanted anything to do with us,” Spook said.
“Yeah, he was always out the back hanging with his mates on the road crew,” Rock Giant added.“And to be honest, I’m more sorry about losing him from the crew than as a member of the band.He’s a good techie, just not cut out for the limelight.”
“So that’s it?We just let him go?”Ash pulled on Spook’s new beanie.
He received an assortment of nods and shrugs.
“I fucking hate recruiting,” Xane grumbled.He pulled the hat off Ash’s head and handed it back to Spook.“It’s always nightmarish.Don’t know about you lot, but I’m not ready for another Willows.”
That led to a chorus of groans and mutters, and a twenty minute communal rant about what a dick he’d been.None of them wanted a repeat of the tour they’d endured with Iain Willows as their drummer.Thank heavens Luthor had come along.
“Have Sally put some feelers out,” Spook said after the grumbling had lapsed into the odd grunt.It seemed the logical thing to do.“And have her send Liam a fat severance packet.There doesn’t seem any sense in harbouring grudges.He obviously bailed because we’re too terrifying face to face.”
“You’re not terrifying, Spooky man,” Rock Giant patted him on the shoulder, “Nor is Danger Mouse.”
“Oi!”Ash protested.
Luthor snorted.“He probably figured we wouldn’t listen and we’d make him play… just the next gig, and the next one, which let’s face it guys, is exactly what we would have done because it’s way easier than thinking about recruiting.”
“Do you need to twist this Ronnie dude’s arm?”Ash’s missus asked.
That curiously left them all silent.Even Rock Giant who’d adopted Ronnie like a pet.
“Let’s not think about it now,” Xane said.“He was a lifesaver tonight.Let’s see what he’s like in front of a festival crowd.”
It was after midnight when Spook was finally able to slip away to join Alle on the private bit of deck reserved for the band.The sun had long set, and the North Sea stretched out around them, no land in any direction.Gently lapping waves caressed the sides of the ship as it cut through the dark water—water black as obsidian, the low hanging moon a shimmering white disk seemingly floating just below the surface.
Alle stood talking with Ronnie, heads together, their low voices hardly audible over the continuous drone of the engines and the flap of various strands of bunting and banners.He watched them a moment, hanging back so as not to intrude upon their conversation, while his ears strained to catch their words.They’d formed a friendship, the pair of them.He wasn’t jealous.He had his band mates; it was good that she had someone to confide in too, even if the thought of her discussing them with someone else left his stomach in free fall.Had she discussed them?Talked about his reluctance, how he screamed in his sleep?Maybe, maybe not.Possibly she wasn’t close enough to Ronnie to confide at that level, maybe all they exchanged was advanced small talk; movies, TV, music, passing interests, the weather.
Brits could always talk about the weather.
A knife twisted in his guts when Ronnie gave her a goodnight kiss on the cheek before heading inside, leaving her alone by the railing.He didn’t like the possessiveness growing inside of him.That wasn’t him.He didn’t believe in tying knots in a relationship that tightly.Humans weren’t meant to be joined together in pairs with no other external input.They functioned better in a moderate sized group.
Alle turned to him, smiling; the stars glittering in her eyes.The moonlight gave her skin a pearlescent glow, made her radiant as a faerie queen.
“I’m yawning, I’m afraid,” she said.Right on cue, she covered her mouth, hiding the stretch of her jaw.“I don’t know why today has seemed so long, but it has.Sorry, I’m usually a night owl.I expect you’re still buzzing.”
He scooted up closer to her, not so that they were squashed together, just so that the very tops of their arms were touching.It occurred to him to put his arm around her, but the guys were still around in the private lounge on the other side of the glass doors and he didn’t want to spoil such a magical moment with a lot of catcalls and whistling.
“Not so much now.”Performing always gave him a high.He could go on stage in the foulest of moods, but by the end of the set, he was inevitably smiling.Chemicals acting on the brain – he knew the science behind it.Nearly two hours later, most of the adrenaline was gone, and he was starting to ebb, fatigue nibbling away at the corners of his mind, skewing his focus in a not dissimilar way to the effect of alcohol.He was trying to stay clear of the booze after his lapse of a fortnight ago.Staggering around drunk wasn’t him.Also, he preferred to keep a less glib hold on his tongue.
