Page 81 of Lies and Lullabies
I rolled my smiling face into the pillow, wishing he were here already.
Twenty
Jonas
Everything about Sunday night’s show was a little off.
Although the crowd probably didn’t notice, Nixon and I weren’t communicating very well. “Sweetness” was supposed to be the third song in the set. At least, that’s what I thought we’d agreed upon. But Nixon played the intro to “Start Something With Me” instead.
So I followed along, even though I was holding my Gibson and always played that song on my Fender. I glared into the wings where my guitar tech stood. As if this was all his fault. But the man just shrugged, as if to say,I gave you the instrument you called for, dummy.
And maybe it was my fault. I was awfully distracted tonight. My overnight bag was packed. The moment the final encore ended, I’d sprint to the bus, take the fastest shower of my life, and jump into the waiting car. The airport was only a twenty-minute drive from the venue.
It would be a little tight if we hit traffic, but I knew it could work.
Thinking all of this through, I accidentally sang the third verse of “Start Something with Me” twice. A glance at Nixon earned me a cocked eyebrow.
Whoops. I really needed to concentrate a little more. But it wasn’t easy when I wasthisclose to seeing my girls.
The crowd was huge, but I couldn’t make out many faces, because of the footlights. I was blinded by stage lighting and deafened by the music coming through the wedge speakers.
The first time I’d played big venues, I’d been scared shitless. The crowd was like a big, hungry beast vibrating in front of me.
But now? Just another day at the office. Between songs, I took a swig from my water bottle, smiled at the masses, swapped guitars with the instrument tech, and listened for Nixon’s next intro. I could do this. I was good at this. And then I’d get to see my girls.
* * *
When the show finally ended,I ran for the exit with two security guards. Avoiding the aggressive fans waiting by the green-room doors, I slipped out a side door into the darkened parking lot. I tapped the access code into the bus’s keypad lock (the code was Ethan’s birthday.) The doors swung open for me. I thanked the security guards and locked myself in, alone.
I trotted to the back of the bus, threw the duffel down and stripped off my sweaty concert clothes. In the quirky little bathroom, I hopped beneath the shower spray before it was even warm. Shampoo. Soap. Rinse. If there were records for this, I broke them. Snatching a towel out of their protected cabinet, I covered myself before opening the door again. You never knew who you’d find on a tour bus. And sure enough, the sound of Nixon’s laugh was already coming from the forward lounge.
If, on my way out, I had to walk by Nixon fucking some girl on the sofa, it wouldn’t be the first time. At least they’d left me the rear lounge, and a quiet place to dress. I swiped the towel over my body and got to work. Not two minutes later I was lacing up my shoes. A text confirmed that my driver was already waiting just outside the bus.
Nixon and his girl still had their clothes on when I hurried past them with my duffel bag. He palmed something on the table, hiding it from view as I went by. “Have fun with your girls,” he called, his voice a little sloppy. That had to be a record, actually. He was drunk within twenty minutes of finishing a show.
“Thanks,” I said without a backward glance. I didn’t have the bandwidth to worry about Nixon tonight. I unlocked the front doors and jumped down the steps and into the waiting sedan.
“The airport?” the driver asked.
“That’s right,” I confirmed as the car began to accelerate.
In the backseat, I tried to relax. There were bottles of water in the cupholders, in case I was thirsty. And a spread of magazines and newspapers was fanned out in the pocket on the back of the driver’s seat. But I was too jumpy to read anything. I tucked my hands behind my head and thought about Kira and Vivi, both of whom were probably asleep in their apartment already.
I’d dropped by their building unannounced last week for two reasons. Kira had been ducking my calls, but I also wanted to be able to picture their place. And it was as homey as I’d imagined, with Kira’s dogeared cookbooks on the countertop, and Vivi’s toys on the rug.
I was glad they lived on a nice leafy street close to the park, too. I didn’t know much about Boston beyond good lobster and Paul Revere. Tonight I’d booked myself into a boutique hotel in Back Bay. But tomorrow I’d get up early and take them out for breakfast. Kira could give me a tour of the neighborhood. And I could give Vivi her birthday present…
Shit!
I leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Dude, I’m really sorry, but I forgot something important.”
The driver braked and switched into the right lane. “You want me to go back?” he asked in disbelief. “You might miss your flight.”
I checked the time on my phone. “There’s no traffic, so I think we can make it, and it’s something I need. There’s an extra fifty bucks in it for you if we get to the airport by ten forty-five.”
The car made a sharp turn, and my heart accelerated, too. I hoped that turning around wasn’t a stupid decision. But we’d been driving for only five or ten minutes…
Four aggressively driven minutes later, the sedan pulled up beside the bus. I leapt out, pounding the code into the keypad once again. I skated up the steps into the darkened bus, but then tripped over something heavy.
