Chapter Twenty-Two
The Wylee trailer was almost as crazy as the concerts. I spent a good deal of time regulating the amount of people that were aboard the Purple People Eater - which was my job for the evening - and we didn't even get all the girls that wanted to visit the trailer on board before it was time to close up shop for the night. "I'm sorry," I apologized to the girls who were waiting outside, "I'm sorry, there's just not enough time... Brian's gotta eat before the show, you know?"
"But I was next," whined the girl in front.
"And the girl behind you was next, and the one behind her next after that..." I answered, "I'm sorry, you know we'd let you all in if we had the time but we don't. I'm so sorry." I backed into the trailer and closed the door, leaned against it, and let out a long sigh. "Good luck getting off this monster," I told Brian.
He laughed, "Good luck to me? Good luck to you. At least they don't have a death warrant out against me."
I assured the door was locked and sat on the floor near where Baylee was still playing his hand held video game. Leighanne was refolding many of the scarves she'd spent so much time folding, and Brian was organizing the money box so all the bills aimed the same way.
Later, once we got back to the venue in one piece and were safely behind the gates that protected us from things like fan-issued death warrants, I was sent to go get the Boys for the show. They'd holed up on the tour bus after the soundcheck and their opening act was just getting on stage so hair and make-up were looking for them. I jogged across the lot to the tour bus and knocked on the door, but to no avail. I knocked again and when still no answer came, I opened the door and climbed aboard.
The guys were seated in a square on the couches just inside the bus, facing each other - it looked like possibly even facing off against each other - Nick and Howie on one side, AJ and Brian on the other. "It's just im-freaking-possible is all," Nick was in the middle of saying, "Y'all are crazy for even thinking it. I mean he's cool and all but he ain't ---"
Brian looked up, saw me, stood up, hit Nick in the forehead, and said, "Hey Ben!"
"Hey..." I said slowly.
Nick turned around, rubbing his forehead where Brian had swatted him. "Hey."
Howie and AJ waved.
"Listen, Rick said to come get you," I explained, "I knocked but I don't think y'all heard me or something."
Brian looked at his watch. "Jeepers," he announced, "Guys it's almost eight."
"What? No fuckin' way." AJ looked at his own watch. "Dude, we been out here for three hours at this?" He got up and trotted off the bus. "See ya Ben," he announced as he went by. Nick quickly joined him, eyeballing me as he passed, but not saying a word.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Just talking," Brian replied at the exact same moment that Howie answered, "Complete and total idiocy."
"Interesting." I nodded. "Anyways they're looking for you," I thumbed back towards the arena.
"C'mon D," Brian said, and he patted me on the back and took the steps two at a time.
Howie stood up slowly. He paused right in front of me and stared into my eyes for a long moment. "Where are you from again?" he asked.
"Atlanta."
"How long have you lived there?" he asked.
"As long as I can remember."
Howie nodded. "See you, Ben." He followed the way the other guys had gone, leaving me alone aboard that Backstreet bus, completely confused.
"They keep staring at me and watching me, it's really weird," I told Kim later that evening while the Boys were on stage. And it was true. Ever since the encounter and awkwardness on board the bus, the Boys had been looking at me funny and whispering behind my back when I was in the room. AJ and Nick were whispering at one point and their hushed conversation ended in them arguing loudly and having to be torn apart when Nick decided to wrestle AJ to the ground rather viciously.
Kim mused, "Maybe they are gay after all and were fighting over who gets to take your manhood," she joked.
"Seriously Waitress," I pleaded.
"I could be serious, Stock Boy," she replied. "Don't underestimate your hotness. I mean I wouldn't mind taking your manhood myself."
"By very definition of you being a lady, you can't 'take my manhood', as you so eloquently put it," I teased her.
"There are ways," she giggled.
"Ok instead of discussing sodomy..." I laughed, "Help me figure this out. What do you think they're up to?"
Kim breathed deeply and thought about it, "I don't know. They didn't say anything to you about anything?"
"Not really."
"When's your birthday?"
"I don't remember."
"Jesus, that sucks," Kim said, her tone changing, "Seriously? You don't remember your birthday? When do you celebrate getting older and closer to death?"
"I don't," I answered.
"You don't?" Kim gasped, "That's it. We're celebrating your birthday when you get home."
"But that might not be my birthday."
"I don't give a shit, we're celebrating it anyways," she answered.
I laughed, "You're crazy."
"I'll take that as a compliment," she replied. "So now about these staring Boys. I need you to tell them that you're taken already, capiche? Tell them you don't care how rich and famous and sexy they are, you already have a penniless coffee bitch that will serve your ever whim. Got it?"
"...penniless... coffee... bitch.... every whim..." I muttered, pretending to write her words down, "There, now I got it. Anything else to add to that?"
"Just that you're a jerk but I love you anyways."
I went along with the Boys to the after party that night on Nick's request once again. I was sure Rick wasn't going to be happy about it, but it's not like saying 'no' to the Boys was part of my job description (quite the opposite, the general rule of thumb was that they kind of got whatever the hell they wanted - especially Nick, whose temperment was similar to a French Poodle's), so off I went.
We found a club in downtown Toronto that Nick insisted was very upscale and that he'd been to once before when he premiered a movie he wrote and directed (I made a mental note to Google that since I was pretty sure anything that came out of that mind had to be extremely messed up). It was a little less classy than Nick had described, and Brian looked like he was trying not to touch anything all night. We weren't there long before Howie suggested we take the party to the bus where he said he had the ingredients for better drinks than the club was serving, and so to the bus we went. Brian looked relieved.
"I think we were all in danger of catching STDs if we sat on those booths much longer," he hissed to me as we went out the door.
On board the bus, it took Nick approximately eleven seconds to suggest we play strip poker. "Strip poker's shit when there's no ladies around to play," AJ argued.
"Well we can get Leighanne and Rochelle to come over."
"Leighanne is not playing strip poker," Brian said sternly.
Nick sighed, "Why not?"
"Because she is my wife and I've seen you play strip poker and the first thing you do is demand a bra."
Nick grinned wickedly.
"I'm not playing strip poker," Brian said, shaking his head.
Howie passed AJ a Red Bull and each of us a drink concoction of some sort that he'd mixed whlie we were arguing about strip poker. Brian stared at his, "Did you go light on the whatever-is-in-this?" he asked, "Don't forget Baylee's here."
"Do you want a Red Bull straight, too?" Howie asked.
"I can't drink that stuff," Brian replied, rubbing his chest. He sniffed the drink, which reeked of alcohol (I know because I'd been sniffing mine), "Can I just have club soda?" he asked.
Howie took Brian's glass, downed the drink like a shot, then went to go refill the glass with club soda per Brian's request.
"How about you, roadie?" Nick asked, "You in?" he was shuffling a deck of cards.
"Nick are you harboring some kind of weird fetish?" AJ asked, "You wanna play strip poker with a bunch of guys?"
Nick shrugged. "Well, roadie? In or out?"
I shook my head, "I'm fine sitting this one out."
"C'mon," Nick said, his voice lowering, "Don't be a pansy."
"Nick, if he doesn't wanna play, he doesn't have to play," Brian piped up.
Nick's eyes didn't waiver from mine. He started dealing the cards. Apparently he and I were the only ones playing - or at least we were the only two the cards were being dealt to. I watched him deal. Something about the attitude he was throwing as he dropped each card, something about the look in his eyes - this competitive, haughty, know-it-all, son-of-a-bitch kind of look - made me want to play just so I could win. It was like I got posessed by the need to kick some serious Carter ass.
Without breaking eye contact with Nick, I took a large, burning mouthful of the drink Howie had given me. The alcohol stung all the way down my throat, and an instant rush of light headedness washed over me. "I'm in," I said.
After Self by Pengi
