RYDER
The soft bed where the band made plans to hang called my name. Finding sleep sounded ludicrous to my addled brain. I needed more than one beer if I was going to pass out. Maybe I should have tried harder with the blonde and brought her home with me. She could fuck my brains out, and then I could drift off mindlessly.
I pulled out my phone and opened the pictures. Laina smiled at me as though life was perfect. She’d taken the selfie of the two of us, her leaning back into me with my arms around her. Dammit, we were so happy sitting beside the cold river water at Zilker Park.
I swiped to the next shot. It was us on the university’s campus. She loved going there to walk around campus or sit under one of the huge live oaks gracing the lawns between buildings. It made her feel like she belonged. If things hadn’t gone south as they did, she’d be there now going to class, meeting up with study groups, and standing in the stadium watching football on Saturdays.
Instead, she vanished. Her parents refused to give up where she went. Before I could find out anything, they disappeared too. Moved to God knows where. Left me high and dry. Even though I thought the whole story seemed strange, the police informed me adults didn’t have to get my approval to move away. The men in blue had a good laugh at my expense when I begged them to find Laina’s family. After telling me how asinine my request was, they showed me out the door of the station.
So, it’s another night. Alone. Depressed. Needy. Wondering about life and why I exist.
Hearing the door bang back against the wall, I rolled over to see who might want to interrupt my pity party.
“Dude. Get the fuck up. We got something to do.” Jason rummaged through his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed.
“I’m doing it.”
“No way. Get your sorry ass up. Pity Party for one is now over. Repeat, Pity Party for one is now over,” he announced it as though through a loudspeaker. “You’re too young to be checking out of the world this soon.”
He picked up the edge of the mattress, and I found myself hitting the floor with him laughing. “Told you to get up, Ryder Steel. We need your street cred to get us in the club down the street.”
“I’m not going to some fucking club.”
“Sure as hell are, dude. You need to get out, and we need to get in.” He laughed. “Hey, that’s a good line for a song. Write that down somewhere.” He rummaged around the room looking for something.
“Shut the fuck up and leave me alone.” I leaned against the side of the bed as two more bodies walked into the room.
“Shit, he’s hibernating again? Ryder, get the fuck up, and let’s go.” I could only grunt and remember how hard it was for us to get Joel moving in the mornings when we had to drive hours to the next stop.
“Can’t y’all just go find someone to occupy your night on your own? I’m tired.”
“No, you’re not tired, asshat. You’re depressed. You know they make meds for that shit, right? Maybe we need to call ol’ Mom and Dad and have an intervention for your sorry ass.”
I sat up straighter. “Hell no. That’s the last thing I want is to make my parents worry about me.”
“Then get. The fuck. Up. Which is what I said when I walked in here. Now. Let’s go, dude.” Joel pulled me up to standing.
“Fine, dammit.” I stepped into my boots and pulled out my keys.
The steady thump of club music sounded like shit from the outside when we pulled up around midnight. Every weekend, the line at this place filled in quickly after ten. We hadn’t been here in a long time, but I knew the bouncer, and he kept up with our music. The big guy started smiling when I handed off my truck keys to the valet.
“Well, well. I hear there’s a new band name now. Steel, right?” He grabbed my hand and wrapped me in his big arm for a hug.
I looked up at him closely. “Yeah, our PR guys with the label wanted something different, so we went with it. Me, Ryder Steel. Sounds badass, huh?”
“Hell yeah, it does.” He looked at the four guys behind me. “I’m guessing this is the rest of the band?”
“Yeah, a bunch of dickheads most of the time but damn good musicians.” I laughed at the three looking at me. “Well, that’s a questionable term on our drummer.”
Brett double flipped me off before calling my name. “Ryder Steel.” He air-quoted my new name. “You know I’m the best drummer around.” He stuck his hand out to meet the big guy. “Brett Cotter.”
The third member, our bass player, stepped up from talking to one of the girls who called him over. “Hey, man, I’m Daniel Reyes. Great to meet you.” The two shook hands. He was followed by the rhythm guitar player. “Joel Kelley, and this is Jason Glass, our keyboard player.”
“Welcome.” He pulled back after shaking hands with them and took us all in at once.
The crowd of beautiful women did too. We hadn’t grown immune to fans throwing attention our way. We’d played second fiddle with the groupies around the big bands during the tour. It seemed like we always got their leftovers. Sloppy seconds weren’t my style for the most part. I hadn’t been able to get past the grief I felt over losing Laina. My head wanted to process it as though I’d been through a divorce or worse, her death.
“Come on through, guys. Enjoy. I’ll call a cab for you later.” Green slipped between our hands as we passed by with a head tip. Always good to acknowledge personal service. A lesson I learned a long time ago—keep the bouncers happy. Never know what might happen that’ll require their help.
The roar of the club music filled my ears, and the loud bass vibrated my entire body. Dancers were on the crowded floor doing something the blonde chick with the pointed-tits costume sang about. They kept making hand gestures around their faces. What was up with that shit?
The cacophony of scents filled my nose causing my head to turn in different directions to capture who held each one. Vanilla, fruity, honey, sickeningly sweet, musky, and even sex overwhelmed my nose while walking through to the main bar.
More than once, one of us found a random hand touching us indiscriminately. Being last, I had the pleasure of having each ass cheek rubbed, pinched, and even a slight swat. Who said women were the only ones who felt violated in clubs?
I drew the line on having some random woman grab my dick, though. I managed to stop that action each time before contact was made. I’d simply push the hand back and offer a slight smile to the owner, which thankfully tonight was only female. It wasn’t always that way. Guess you can’t blame a guy for trying, but I prefer a soft female against my skin.