Lael is standing as still as a deer and ready to run to at any moment. I look through the peep hole again and see Ronald’s ugly distorted face.

“He’s still there!” I whisper to her. “Hide!”

Lael scurries into action like an animal seeking escape and heads into the bathroom.

“No, under the bed,” I say as I lift the sheet overhanging to the floor only to find no space at all. I glance up to see Lael climbing out of the window to the fire escape in her house coat and a towel on her head.

“Are you nuts?” I protest and investigate what she’s stepping out onto. The fire escape is small, high up and like many things in the French Quarter, old and rusty.

Knock Knock Knock.

“I know you’re in there, open the door!” Ronald shouts.

With her dancer’s grace, Lael steps out on to the landing with ease and ducks out of view.

I close the curtains and walk to the door, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly with my hand on the dead bolt.

Click.

I open the door.

“Ronald, what brings you to New Orleans?” I ask as surprised and casual as possible.

He doesn’t answer. With a bunch of papers in hand, Ronald walks right past me into my room and his two henchmen follow. He looks around the corner to where the bed is, opens the closet door, and the checks the bathroom.

“Where is she?” he finally asks, turning around.

“Who?” I answer.

Ronald takes a step closer to me invading my space, letting me know he didn’t like my answer.

“I just got back from the venue, I thought I would find you there for sound check. I thought I would find Lael too, funny how both of you are taking the day off. I gave you specific instructions Brad. Very specific. Don’t tell me you’re crossing the lines with my daughter, so help me god.”

“What, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Ronald slams a fistful of magazines on the table. They fan out and I can see Lael and myself on the covers of them all. One of the pictures is framed in the shape of a heart. I’m amazed how fast they went to print.

“That looks worse than it is Ronald, you know how they can manipulate things,” I tell him. He of all people should know this.

“I said no press for Lael and I find out she’s going to be on the cover of the damn Rolling Stone next month? You see, Brad, this is supposed to be temporary, and what is happening here is that you are taking advantage of a young and impressionable girl that looks up to you.”

Ronald points his finger in my face.

I try to speak but Ronald cuts me off. “You are putting me in a position here, this is something you have created. I’m left with no choice.” Ronald lets his words hang in the air, my attention goes to his security guards in matching suits behind him.

Holy shit. Am I about to be roughed up?

“Look, Brad, people disappear all the time,” he says slowly, his voice remaining casual even though I know the intention is anything but. “If something happened to you, my god, could you imagine, it would be horrible. I mean, your album sales would probably enable me to retire, but what a loss it would be. Those magazines would have full page stories on you. Lael would be devastated I’m sure. But then you know what would happen Brad? Time would pass. How long do you think it would take for you to be forgotten – to truly disappear? Faster then you think my friend, within weeks it would be like you never existed and I would buy a fucking boat.”

He’s speaking so calmly, so coolly, that I know I have to take him seriously.

“Are you threatening me?” I ask.

“You should know better than anyone that the world is not safe, people are not good. I am a very dangerous man, Brad. The truth is I don’t like you, you were street kid when I met you and you still are. I can see it in your eyes – what you really are. I don’t want you to be with my daughter, and I don’t want my daughter to be in your band. Whatever is going on with you and Lael stops now. If it wasn’t for the press having interest in Lael playing in the band I would pull her out right now. But, as it is, she will have to finish the tour.”

Ronald walks to the window and I can feel my heart rate increase, he continues to speak to me even though I’m looking at his back.

“You do have something in common with her. You know what that is, Brad? I created both of you. Think about it, the last ten years of your life, there’s nothing that is not because of me. I know what’s best for her and what happens in the next ten years of her life will be because of me too. Only she can’t know that. So I need to let nonsense like this tour happen sometimes so she feels like she has some control. Even though nothing could be farther from the truth. And you, Brad, you are not a part of the plan.”

Ronald turns to face me and smiles like a salesman, opens his arms with innocence and changes his tone.

“Alright kid, are you feeling ready for the big show tonight?”

“What?” I’m completely baffled. He’s gone from mob boss to little league coach faster than I can blink.

“I have some business to take care of so I will see you there. Break a leg.” Ronald points to my leg, which kind of takes away from the figurative nature of the expression.

He walks to the door and one of his security guards opens it for him. Before leaving he winks at me and says, “I’m sure you will do what is right and we can get past this.”

Ronald leaves the room and his thugs follow. I turn to the window expecting to see Lael climbing back into the room but the curtain waves in the breeze and she’s not there. Leaning out the window, I see her sitting on the platform with her back against the wall.

“Hey,” I say, resting on the window’s edge.

“I’ve never heard him talk like that about me before,” she says looking pensively to the sky.

I don’t know what to say, we both need time to process, but she should be inside.

“Come inside,” I tell her.

“I can ruin everything for you. I think I already have,” she says, ignoring my suggestion.

“You know that’s not true.” I hate hearing this from her.

“I think it is true,” she says shaking her head and then climbs through the window. Once she’s inside, she looks up at me, her eyes full of emotion and frustration. “He has the next ten years of my life planned out, what’s that all about?” She sighs heavily. “Look, maybe I should walk away from all of this, you, the band, my father, everything,” Lael says with an air of defeat.

Something inside me is expecting her to leave. I’ve been falling for her carelessly and now I will pay the price. History is repeating itself. I try to imagine her walking out the door and never seeing her again and I can’t bare the idea.

I reach out and grab her, needing her now more than ever.

“Don’t do that,” I whisper to her, trying to meet her eye. “I need you. I need you tonight on stage, I need you for this tour…”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she begins to get dressed and I sit down. I’m not afraid of Ronald but I will never underestimate him. He owns the rights to all my work. I’ve been told that even if I leave he will profit off of anything I do in the future. I don’t own my property, I don’t own my cars.

My life is a house of cards.

Ronald was right about one thing though – I’m still the same street kid he met a decade ago. Even after all these years I have not lost the sense of who I am. I don’t need these luxuries, and try as he may, I will always have a fan base and a career. I’m afraid of nothing, except one thing: Lael walking.

“You must regret messing with the boss’s daughter now,” Lael says, standing in front of me with her hands tucked into her pockets of her sexy leather pants that she’s put on for the show.

“I regret nothing,” I tell her, standing up. “And I’m not afraid of your father. You got that? So – let’s make this a show to remember.”

“Alright, alright,” she says, her head hanging for a moment. Then she looks up at me, fire in her eyes. “Let’s do it.”

***

Backstage is a beehive of activity, a show with multiple acts like this one always is. Lael and I fight through the narrow halls trying to find someone from our crew to guide us. Even though many of the people lining the hall greet me as a friend, I don’t recognize them. Finally, I see just the man I’m looking for.

“Arnie!” I shout to get his attention.

“You two twits nearly gave me a heart attack,” Arnie answers then looks at his watch. “You’re on next, you literally have ten minutes before you hit the bloody stage, let’s go, the other lads are waiting for ya.”

I look back at Lael and we exchange smiles as if we are mischievous children. There is no band playing at the moment, only the rumbling sound of thousands of people. The smell of leather jackets, cigarettes, pot, and smoke machines lingers in the air.

I live for these moments. I feel like I belong. The air is electric and it lights me up when it fills my lungs. Arnie leads us to a corner where Switch and Calvi are waiting. It’s normal to not have a proper dressing room for this type of gig.

“Look who decides to show up,” Calvi says shaking his head in disapproval.

“Boys,” I say, greeting them casually.

Switch is artfully combing back his hair seemingly unconcerned by our late arrival but his eyes look past me with concern, which causes me to turn around and see who has his attention.

Ronald is walking toward us with another tall grey-haired man in a suit. Ronald stops and stands with his back to me in a disrespecting way.

“John, I want you to meet my daughter Lael,” Ronald says pointing to her like she’s a piece of meat on the menu. “You are going to do great tonight, sweetheart.”

Lael gives a peculiar smile and puts her attention back to our guitar tech.

Ronald doesn’t take notice of her dismissiveness and moves on with his acquaintance.

I try not to let him bother me. I can see my guitar on the rack, I can see the route to the stage from where I stand – for me the show has already begun. I have learned when to change, when to become selfish and become that other version of myself that takes over for the show. It can’t happen too early, there are too many people ready to make judgments. If I ignore someone’s smiley hello it could have repercussions, for all I know they could have millions of followers and my dismissive reaction would turn into a long article of how awful I have become. Then their millions of followers would copy and paste to others who would copy and paste, comment, destroy.

I know better, learned a trick or two. When I’m in a large room full of people who want to talk to me, and it’s impossible to connect with each of them, I make sure to connect with only a few. Not in a fake way, there are always interesting people to talk to. I look into one person’s eyes and ignore the rest of the room. I don’t try to make eye contact with everyone, only who I’m speaking to. I know the rest of the room is watching my every move, secretly wanting me to mess up so they can have a story to tell. As long as I treat who I’m speaking to with respect, it’s noticed by everyone else in the room.

It’s a part of the job, it’s a balancing act. When to turn off, switch gears, when it’s too soon. I used to start the show, in my head, hours before. I can’t blame people for not understanding really, the opening act hasn’t hit the stage and I was a pacing wild man who couldn’t be reached. The larger the venue, the larger the crowd, the further from reality I go.

Now, at this moment, I am gone.

There is no sound, everything and everyone around me are blurred out, they don’t exist. I can see the route to the stage, my bandmates, and nothing else. I can hear Arnie’s voice but I don’t see him, I don’t need to see him, I’m selfish and only take what I need.

Someone hands me my guitar and I strap in for the ride. We’re using a wireless system tonight so I make sure the guitar doesn’t make a sound that will rocket out of the main speaker to the crowd.

“Alright boys!” Arnie shouts.

The lights go dark and a faceless man with a flashlight guides Switch, Calvi, and Lael along the route to the darkened stage. I always go last.

I don’t hear the crowd, I can hear Arnie’s voice but it seems like it’s miles away and I don’t care what he’s saying. I follow the flashlight, floating along the route, someone slaps my back along the way. I begin to hear the crowd, I feel the strings of my guitar, the breath in my lungs, the electricity in my heart firing bolts of lightning to my limbs preparing them for battle.

It’s not so dark that I’m not recognized and the crowd begins to roar. My soul has been a few steps behind, but has caught up to me now and steps in.

Here I am, here it comes.

I have my first thought since I left my body backstage.

Turn on your guitar volume, wait for Switch.

I’ve had problems in the past getting too lost in the moment and forgetting to turn on my volume. There is a voice that reminds me to turn it on when I first step on stage, I assume that voice is me, or maybe it’s Mr. Robson.

Click Click Click Click

My heart stops and I hold my breath when I hear Switch click his sticks together.

Then it begins.

I hit the opening note and the lights explode on cue. I hear my guitar thud and shake the room when I hit the strings. It takes only a moment before Calvi, Lael, Switch and I have the motor running. The piston is firing up and down and motor shakes and roars.

The crowd look like a surging sea coming toward me, they are a part of this machine, and they are doing their job well. The fake smoke and colored lights make everything look like a dream, I sing the first line of the opening song and the crowd sings along too.

This is a short set so we hit the ground running, When I turn to face Switch I see he’s already a sweaty mess. Calvi, normally calm, cool, and casual, is standing on a monitor wedge thrashing is body around, wind-milling his arm with each note he hits on his gold-top guitar. It almost feels like the four of us are trying to one-up each other.

Even Lael is performing differently than I have ever seen her. I like it, I think everyone does.

Time passes too fast with these short sets and we are damn near the end, only a couple songs left. Lael is under a single light and to my surprise she’s taken off her shirt. There she stands in her leather pants, bra, and little else. She begins the song “FuzzFace” moving her hips from side to side seductively and has the attention of every person in the venue.

As always, she has my attention.

Lael’s background as a dancer is showing right now. Myself and the rest of the band take a step back and let Lael have the stage and she uses every inch. The end of this particular song is purposely unstructured so we can improvise and it’s at this moment that Lael takes the bottle of whisky from her amp and begins to chug it while still keeping the rhythm happening with her right hand on the bass. The crowd adores it.

That’s when I see Ronald in the wing of the stage, he must have been there the whole time.

I’m starting to have a new perspective on things.

Lael passes me the bottle of whisky, upside down, while it is still pouring out on the floor. I hold it, unsure of what she has in mind. She goes to her knees and begins playing her bass wildly, letting the whisky pour down her throat. The guitar tech must have hit her special teal pedal because I hear the familiar tone kick in at that moment.

The crowd reacts wildly, the front row of people have half of their bodies on the stage, fists in the air, screaming for the moment to continue. Lael lets most of the whisky fall down her neck and stomach, drenched.

On her knees, she gyrates her hips up and down and plays with a mix of skill and ruthless improvisation. Myself, Calvi, and Switch have the good sense to let her take the lead. It’s rare to have such control over a large mixed crowd like this and Lael has them eating out of the palm of her hand.

The song has already gone on longer than it ever has before and now Lael is climbing the PA speakers. I already know we won’t have time to do our closing tune on the set-list. Honestly, there’s really nowhere to go from here so it’s just as well.

Lael climbs higher and higher and the light man follows her the whole way. I have been using the whisky bottle as a slide and take a shot of what’s left in it but when I do my mouth is filled with only pure unsweetened iced-tea.

I can’t help but smile. I look up at Lael dancing in the rafters and wonder what else she has up her sleeve.