Bam
THE FINAL SONG of the night is always my favorite part of the show. At this point, we’ve either got the crowd in the palm of our hands, or we’ve lost blood trying. On the nights when we’ve done our job well, and the audience has elevated the energy in the room, I can lose all control, while somehow also remaining in complete control. It’s hard to describe, but ultimately the job of a drummer is to control chaos. Drummers are part timekeeper, part goalie, and part lion tamer. It’s the drummer’s job to make sure things on stage get out of hand, but not too out of hand.
“Okay, boys! Final song of the show—final show of the fucking tour. Let’s do this!” I shouted to the band who were huddled around my drum riser in a sweaty mass. “Brother Electric!” I called out, making sure I’d made eye contact each band member before counting off the song.
“One, two, three, four,” I howled while steadily bashing away on my hi-hat. We slammed into the song with full intensity. The song which I had written about Jimmy was one of our oldest, and I loved closing with it. Jimmy always had an intense energy about him that lit up a room. His internal amplifier was always set somewhere around nine, but he was looking for any opportunity to crank it to eleven. Jimmy had always been an important source of strength for me to draw from.
The band was in lockstep, just as we’d been all night. Maybe it was because it was the final night of the tour, or perhaps it had something to do with all the recent tension and fighting within the band. Oftentimes, the anger and passive aggressive shit that builds up in a band eventually explodes on stage, kind of like make-up sex after a heated fight. On the other hand, sometimes that tension shows itself in the form of an on-stage fist fight like it did in Toledo, Ohio. I hoped tonight would be better, especially knowing Lucy was somewhere backstage watching, so we’d better be on our best behavior.
“Electric brother, light my way,
Mother mother, gone away.”
Zeke’s voice rang out over the chaos on stage. The crowd sang along in full voice with their hands held high in the air. It’s a truly flattering and humbling thing to have words that you wrote as a young man, in a time of extreme pain, being sung back to you by a crowd with such joy and exuberance.
I looked to my left and saw “Brother Electric” himself standing in his usual spot, at my ten o’ clock, his bass slung low. I had never seen Jimmy have a bad show. Hell, I’d barely ever seen Jimmy have a bad day. He was a solid as they come, as bassist and as a friend.
“Shine your light on me!”
Edward, our guitarist and newest member was to my right, toward the front of the stage. As well as being a great guitar player, he was also an amazing painter. He was much quieter than the rest of the band, but was very easy to get along with and fit in well musically. I couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d stick around. If our track record was any kind of indication—not long. Still, I really loved playing with him, and also appreciated that he could assist me with backing vocals.
“Brother Electric, shine your light on me!”
Zeke held out the final notes of the song. His tall, thin frame was stretched far out into the crowd, the toes of his boots barely touching the stage. He would give the crowd every bit of himself if he could. He would let them tear him to bits if it meant a better show. Zeke, for all his faults, is one of the most passionate and hardworking people I’ve ever known.
All night long, I had been very aware of an extra cup of gasoline being thrown on my fire. Her name was Lucy Haddon. Every time I thought about her watching tonight’s show, it made me play harder and with more passion. I didn’t want to impress her as much as I wanted to show her that Roses for Anna was the best possible band to open the upcoming reunion tour. There was something else though. I wanted her to see me play. I wanted her see a side of myself that is so important to who I am. I wanted her to see me.
The only problem was she was nowhere to be found.
She stood me up.
* * *
Lucy
I was frozen. Could. Not. Move. Ohmigod, this band was amazing. I had VIP privileges at most of the Seattle venues, and many others around the country and world, so I was currently second row center, alone, and transfixed.
Bam was one of the best drummers I’d ever seen or heard. He rivaled Jack Henry (RatHound’s drummer) and I now knew why my dad wanted Roses for Anna to open the tour. Don’t get me wrong, I’d always been a fan, but had never seen them play live. I was simply never in the same place the band was when they were performing. Had I known how good they were, I would have made more of an effort.
I had planned to make my way backstage partway through their last song, but I couldn’t make my feet cooperate with my heart. I wanted them to keep playing… needed them to keep playing. I could seriously watch Bam all night long… God, he was sexy as hell… and his background vocals were to die for. I don’t think I’d ever understand the ability to sing and play drums at the same time. I’d been singing my whole life, and dad would pull me up on stage as a kid, but if I ever tried to add clapping or any other kind of percussive action, I lost the time. It was a running joke within RatHound.
The crowd went manic as the last note rang out and now I was stuck. No one knew who I was (I wore jeans, motorcycle boots and a dark blue hoodie so I was pretty nondescript in my appearance), which meant I couldn’t motion to security and have them help part the mob for me to get through.
Crap!
* * *
Bam
She wasn’t here. She didn’t fucking show up. I wasn’t sure what this meant about the tour, but I didn’t even care about that right now. I wanted to see Lucy.
“What the fuck did you do?” Chas ground out, storming toward me.
“Excuse me?” I seethed.
“Lucy Haddon said she’d be here. So why isn’t she, arsehole?”
“How the fuck should I know?” I toweled off and glared at him. “You were there. She was fine when she left the cafe.”
Chas still didn’t know about my clandestine meeting with Lucy at lunchtime, and he never would. But this confused me even more. I’d given her the backstage pass, we’d had a great conversation and connected on a friendly level, so why wasn’t she here? I’d broken down her walls… or at least one.
I put distance between me and Chas, lest there be a repeat of the other night, and headed into the band room.
“So?” Zeke asked.
I shook my head. “She’s not here.”
“What the fuck did you do?”
“Back off, Zeke,” Jimmy warned in his usual brotherly tone.
I sighed. “I didn’t do anything. Maybe RatHound changed their mind.”
Zeke scowled. “Or you pissed Lucy off and she changed it for them.”
Maybe he was right. I flopped onto the sofa and dropped my head in my hands. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to keep my life together, I managed to fuck it up when it counted the most. Just once, I’d like shit to work out.
“Sorry I’m late.”
My head whipped up at the sound of Lucy’s voice and I shot off the couch. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She removed her hood and her red hair fell in sheets around her shoulders. “I got stuck in the crowd.”
I gave Lucy a short hug. “What about the pass?” I asked quietly, hoping the band wouldn’t hear me.
She waved her hand dismissively. “I appreciated that, I did, but I wanted to be in the mix, you know? Feel the energy of the fans.”
I nodded. I knew exactly what she meant.
“Hey, love,” Chas greeted, leaning down to kiss her cheek.
Seeing her grimace, I once again closed the distance between us. I didn’t want that asshole anywhere near her, particularly if she didn’t want him near her.
“Thanks, Bam,” she whispered, and I bit back a smile.
Those words were for my ears only and I relished them.
“So what did you think?” I asked, facing her.
Her cheeks pinked and I could tell she was trying not to give anything away. She was failing, but I let her have her secret… for the moment.
“It was really good,” she said.
As I met her eyes, the world disappeared and it was just her and me standing in the green room. “Yeah?”
She nodded and rummaged in her bag. “I have the contracts.”
“Contracts? So then…”
“Yes, Mister Nelson, RatHound would like to extend an official offer to join them as the support act on the summer tour.”
Her smile lit me up more than the news. To play one show with RatHound was my fantasy as a sixteen-year-old kid, and now all I could think about was her. “Let me get the rest of the guys and you can tell ’em.”
I returned quickly with the other three members and Chas, and Lucy relayed the good news. I assumed that’s what she was doing because I heard nothing. Time seemed to slow, I couldn’t look away from her, and for a moment I swear to God I forgot how to breathe.
“I’ll take those,” Chas said, breaking my focus as he greedily reached for the contracts.
I saw a flash of irritation cross Lucy’s face, as she handed the paperwork to my manager. I took her arm gently and led her into the privacy of the hallway. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, why?” she asked, surprise in her voice.
“No reason. Just checkin’ in. You look beautiful.”
She blushed again. “Thanks. Um, I’m gonna head out. Chas can contact me if he has any questions.”
“Hey, why’re you runnin’ away, Lucy?”
“Excuse me?”
I gave her a slow grin and she glanced at her feet. “You wanna get out of here?”
She squared her shoulders and raised an eyebrow. “And go where?”
“Somewhere quiet we can talk.”
“I should really head home.”
“Early day tomorrow?” I challenged.
“I’m heading to the beach actually.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It is.”
Lucy bit her lip and I couldn’t stop myself from running my thumb over it and tugging it from her teeth. “Let’s go get some pie.”
Her eyebrows formed a V. “Pie?”
“You don’t like pie?”
“I think my butt is proof positive I like pie,” she retorted.
“Hey, I like your butt.”
And I’d rather like to explore your pie.
That part I kept to myself, but I had a feeling she read my mind, because she blushed.
She licked her lips. “We’re getting off topic.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I like it.”
“Stop it,” she rasped.
I chuckled. “Let me change real quick and we’ll go get pie.”
“Don’t you have a meet and greet?”
“We did all that before the show, and I made sure we had no other business tonight.”
“Five minutes, Luce,” I said.
I didn’t give her the chance to agree or disagree as I rushed back into the greenroom and grabbed a clean T-shirt.
* * *
Lucy
Bam walked away and I dragged my hands down my face. What the hell am I doing? It was past eleven… I shouldn’t eat pie at this time of night. Yes, this was my first thought… not, I shouldn’t have pie with Bam Bam Nelson, the man who made my panties melt away with his voice. No. It was that it was too late to eat pie. Ohmigod, I was a whore.
“Lucy?”
I looked up at Chas who slithered toward me. “Hey, Chas.”
“I’ve looked over the contract, love, and everything looks great. I have one minor addition, but we can talk about that a little later in private.”
“It’s okay, I’m sure we’re okay to speak here, what addition?”
“We need to add the lead singer bonus,” he said a little quieter while gently guiding me to the back of the room. “Just standard stuff.”
“Lead singer bonus?”
“Zeke, as many of today’s front-men do, requires an additional five-thousand dollars per show—”
“Excuse me.”
“I know you’re new to management, love, but this is all standard boilerplate stuff these days,” Chas said. “As the group’s main focal point and draw factor, Zeke is entitled to a nightly performing bonus of five thousand dollars. This is built in to all of Roses for Anna’s contracts.”
I stared at him dumbfounded. “We don’t do that Mr. Chambers.”
“Well then, Roses for Anna walks.”
Something was definitely hinky. Lead singer bonuses were not standard. I knew they happened, but they sure as hell weren’t standard. This guy was as sleazy as they come, but I knew I had to play dumb a little. “Well, I certainly don’t want that.”
He smiled… like a snake. “No, love. Neither does your father.”
“No,” I agreed, and held my hand out. “Let me take this back to our legal team and I’ll get this corrected for you.”
Chas handed me the contracts. “Excellent. Thanks, love.”
I forced a smile and shoved the paperwork in my bag right as Bam walked back in. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. Great,” I said.
“Are you staying for the party?” Chas asked.
“Lucy needs to get going,” Bam answered for me.
“Yes, I do,” I confirmed.
“I’m gonna walk her out,” Bam said.
Chas looked a little nervous, but he seemed to shake it off and nodded. “See you in a bit, mate.”
“Yep.”
We headed to the back doors of the theater and Bam followed me out. I turned to face him and smiled. “Well, I’ll see you—”
“I thought we were having pie.”
I nodded toward the theater. “Didn’t you just tell Chas you were going to the party?”
He shrugged. “I lied.”
“Rebel,” I retorted.
“You have no idea.”
I grinned. “Sully is pulling around to pick me up… I guess you can tag along.”
“Who’s Sully?”
“My driver and bodyguard.”
Bam stepped closer to me and took on a protective stance. “Shit, baby, you need a bodyguard?”
“No, not really. Not anymore, anyway,” I admitted. “He’s been with me since I was a kid and Dad likes him being around, so he’s kind of stuck. It helps with the job.” My phone buzzed and I saw Dad calling. “I have to take this.”
Bam nodded and stepped away to give me a little privacy.
“Hey Dad.”
“Hey, baby girl. Did you get the contract signed?”
“Chas wants a lead singer bonus.”
“What the fuck?”
This came from Bam and I glanced up at him. “Um, Dad, can I call you right back?”
“Yeah, Luce, but we’re not payin’ a bonus,” Dad said.
“I know. I’ll call you right back.” I hung up and faced Bam. “You didn’t know about the signing bonus,” I deduced.
He dragged his hands down his face and shook his head. “How much?”
“Five-thousand.”
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.” He headed back to the theater doors and pounded on the metal.
I texted Sully and let him know I’d be a while, then followed Bam inside.
Damn. I really wanted pie.