I didn't want to perform that night. It was like a whole truckload of estrogen had tipped over and oozed right towards me. I was in bitch hell. Every single one of us guys was in the doghouse. Leighanne had spewed her anger towards me and AJ onto Brian. Leigh was ragging and somehow it was Howie's fault. Dee slapped AJ's face so hard with moisturizer that he should have bruised (and God, I wish he had) and Lauren...
Lauren. Lauren Kitt. I had watched AJ talk to her; I had watched the way she had broke down.
I was a real asshole.
"You never came and got me for bumper cars!" Rhoda said as she passed me my robe. I slipped on the light material and tied the sash. I didn't respond. Even her round girly melons on parade in that little scrap of a halter didn't make me feel better.
The four of us had put on a good act for VIP; now we had to get through the concert. As always, I was running late. AJ had sprinted out; I guess he was scared of me.
He should be.
"Nick, let's go," Howie commanded.
"Break a leg!" Rhoda said happily. I gave her a teeny smile.
Every night was the same. We were introduced, we got out into the ring, and we started singing.
Tonight I decided to shake things up a little bit. After all, we were in a boxing ring.
And I had a target.
As J was bouncing around trying pathetically to look cool and screaming the opening, I leaned against the ropes and shot forward. I pummeled him to the floor. Brian had to sing his lines and mine while J and I rolled around the ring. The crowd was screaming; I'm sure they thought it was a bit of an impromptu performance.
I may run and hide
When you're screamin' my name, alright
But let me tell you now
There are prices to fame, alright
All of our time spent in flashes of light
AJ got to his feet right before the chorus. I ignored the look Howie gave me. I leaned into the ropes.
Looking at the crowd
And I see your body sway, c'mon---aaahhhhh!
J had pulled me backwards. I landed hard on my rump. He had a hold of my robe and I felt a little like I had a boa constrictor around my middle. My leg shot up and I connected (lightly, mind you) with his groin. He shot down while I sprang up. I planted a heavy sneakered foot to his back.
That's when Brian and Howie decided to separate us. For the rest of the song, we chased each other without avail around the ring only to be stopped by the two short ones.
Howie got us back on track as the ring rolled away. At one point, I climbed the scaffolding on the stage. I did it for one reason: to see if Lauren was in the crowd.
But, she wasn't. I had a feeling I had chased her away for good. For some crazy reason, it really did hurt. I had actually felt something in the bus earlier today (and not just her boobs).
By the time we sang Incomplete, I was totally feeling every damn word of the song.
As J ran out for the first solo of the night, I stole backstage. It didn't take me long to track down the liquor that was requested for each show. I had done so well; I really hadn't drank heavily since the tour started. Brian's little talk about kicking anyone out of the group that wasn't 'mature' enough to handle the responsibility had scared me a little bit. He had channeled his inner Kevin. But, I needed a drink. Badly. And I needed to go clubbing. I needed to forget about Rhoda (who, I realized, might just be a tease after all) and Lauren (who wasn't a tease, but--well you kow what happened there). I just needed a lot of alcohol, a random girl, and a couple more shots at J.
Then I'd feel better.
By the time I finished Drive By Love, Nick was MIA.
"Maybe if you two could stop acting like children," Howie was bitching as we searched for him backstage and Brian started his small talk on stage, "he wouldn't have felt the need to hide out..."
"Cos Nick is the one who needs to hide out," I grumbled, "The man's a fuckin' hippo and you're worried about me intimidating him?"
Howie glared at me.
"He's not pissed about me anyways," I snapped, "Not really." I thought of the look in his eyes when he'd stared out the bus window, like he was a ghost haunting me. His eyes had deepened to a dark turquoise blue, like the depth of the ocean, and I couldn't be sure but I was pretty sure he'd swiped at a tear.
"Just find him," Howie snapped as Lyndsey motioned for him to go see her for make-up. "Get him on stage by the time I'm done and we'll be okay. Other wise..." Howie's voice dipped low, "We may need another band meeting," he said ominously.
I sighed as Howie disappeared into the make-up room.
I wandered toward wardrobe, certain I'd find the kid there. I stumbled in the room and Rhoda looked up from the trunk she was digging Howie's solo outfit out of. She smiled when she saw it was me, "Hey 'J," she greeted me. "How're you feeling?"
"You seen Nick?" I asked.
Rhoda thought a moment. "Now that you said it, no, not since the last set change..."
I sighed.
"Aw what's the matter? Still sad about your little fight?" she asked.
I shook my head, "Ro, I dunno. I dunno what's going down. It feels like everything's startin' to shatter apart or something. Nick and I, and this whole competition..."
"Competition?" she blinked sweetly, "What competition?"
I stared at her. Somehow I felt like telling her what we were competing for would make her feel guilty. I didn't tell her. I swiped my palm at the air. "Just... you know... with the fans," I said. I stood up just as Rhoda bent over and her ass went up into the air. I stared. But somehow my heart wasn't in it.
Dee came into the room, carrying her clipboard and saw me looking at Rhoda. She frowned, and turned to leave. Since she was leaving anyway, I addressed Rhoda.
"See ya later Ro," I said, turning toward the door.
Dee stopped and turned around, clutching her clipboard so tight her knuckles were white. "What did you just call me?"
I blinked, "I- I said - What? I said bye to Rhoda," I stammered.
Dee stared at me for a long moment. "Right," she said finally. She turned and walked out the door. What the hell? I thought.
Rhoda smiled, "It's so awkward sometimes," she said, "Having names so similar."
"What?"
"You know - Rochelle and Rhoda?" Rhoda asked, a confused expression on her face.
I stared at her. "Who the fuck is Rochelle?"
"...Dee?" Rhoda now looked even more confused.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I demanded.
Rhoda blinked like a deer in headlights. "Dee uses her middle name... Deanna.. You know?"
I stared at her. My mind was trying to wrap around this fact still when Howie walked into the room, all caked with make-up. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Where the hell is Nick?" he demanded pointedly.
"Nick?" I paused. "Oh shit. Nick!" I bolted out of the room, just barely hearing him mutter in Spanish and Rhoda giggle in response. I started back towards the bathroom, figuring if Nick was gonna hide anywhere, it'd be there. I stumbled over a discarded sneaker... and then another sneaker... sock... sock... t-shirt... jeans... Oh Jesus.
I followed Nick's bread crumb trail of clothes until they ran out and looked around. The door to the buses was open.
Fuck.
I moved a little faster, ducking through the door to the back parking lot. The buses were all silent. The lamps overhead hummed quietly as they shed light. I stood in the pool of light from one and glanced around. "Nick?" I hissed.
He was standing in the pool of light cast by one of the lamps, arms spread wide, clutching the neck of a bottle of Howie's tequila, yelling. "COME TAKE A PICTURE OF THIS!! COME ON I KNOW YOU'RE HERE SOMEWHERE!! DO IT!!!!"
"Nick!" I ran over to him.
"C'MON JULIE!"
"Lauren," I corrected him, grabbing his elbow, "Jesus what the hell is wrong with you?"
"Fucking A," Nick muttered, tears springing to his eyes, "Why don't I know her name?" he asked, "I love her."
"You love everything..." I said, "You fall in love like eight times a day."
Nick stared at me, blurry-eyed, "No," he said, "It's not the same." He paused. Then, as though realizing for the first time that it was me he was looking at, he suddenly said, "I don't need help from you."
I reached for the tequila.
"Go away!" I yelled, pulling his arm back.
"Give me that," I snapped, "You've been doing good, man."
Nick tossed his hand over his head. "Take it away from me, then," he slurred ever so slightly. "Take this away just like everything else," he emphasized, "Just like Julie."
"Her fucking name is Lauren," I snarled. I stretched for the bottle, but Nick waved it easily out of my reach and shook it teasingly. I jumped and grabbed his elbow. I hung there like a dysfunctional Christmas tree ornament, kicking my legs. "Nick, give me the damn liquor."
"You think you're so perfect," Nick snarled, "I wish Dee had fucking left a bruise on your face!"
I clawed at his wrist. "Give me the liquor."
"You want the liquor?" he snapped, "Here." He threw it. The bottle flew through the air and hit the cement several feet away and smashed, alcohol sprayed everywhere. "Go fucking fetch it then," he turned away.
"Nick!" I snapped, "C'mon." I grabbed his wrist firmly. He stared at me. I could see in his eyes he was calculating whether to smash me like a bug or not. "We've gotta finish the show," I said, "Howie's waiting for us."
Nick stared at me, resolution set on his face. "No."
"Nick, what about the fans?" I demanded.
He stared at me. "AJ..." he whispered, "I really do love her."
"I know."
He sighed.
"Standing out here in your boxers isn't gonna help..."
"I thought maybe she'd... she'd be here... taking pictures... for the paper."
"She's not, she left," I said, "She got a new band."
Nick stared at me. "She got a new band?" he gasped quietly.
I nodded, "She got a new band."
Nick's eyes darkened again. He pushed by me and into the open door of the venue. I sighed and glanced over my shoulder at the shards of the tequila bottle laying among the buses.
Everything seemed broken like that.
