Page 111 of Down Beat
FORTY-ONE
Rey
“Stillborn” – Black Label Society
The next hotel we unload at is nowhere near as posh as the last. Tabby loves it. Says it makes her feel more at home. I told her she’s what makes it feel like home. I then promptly vomited in my mouth a little at how much of a fucking pansy-ass sissy I’ve become because of her.
Who the fuck is this guy? It’s a new type of low after the high. A strange one.
I still loathe everything about myself; can’t stand seeing my image reflected back at me. But I’m calm.
I’m relaxed.
And that’s totally all on her.
“Everyone paying attention while I go through this one last time?” Rick asks as he leans his hip against the back of a dining chair.
The band all nod where we’re seated at a round glass table. Toby drinks his habitual bourbon-spiked afternoon coffee, while Kris listens to Rick with one ear, the set list playing in the other.
I nod, paying attention to Rick, but my focus is on Tabby as she kicks back on the sofa.
“We’ve got the radio interview in an hour,” Rick details, “and then you’ve got two small pieces with some local TV shows. Toby and Emery, you get one. Rey and Kris, you get the other. After that you’re doing a run through with the sound guys, and then if it all goes to plan, you get a hour to unwind backstage before the show kicks off.”
“Any other news for me?” My hands mask my question so that Tabby doesn’t hear, fingers laced before my mouth as I lean my elbows on the table.
Rick’s gaze shoots to the girl in question before he returns his attention to me with a shake of his head. “Not looking good. All recent events considered.”
Damn it. I glance at Toby, catching his eye. He gives me a shrug, and then chugs the last of his coffee. He’s the only one in the band that knows my plan, knows what I try to do for her.
I’ve set my pride aside and damn near begged Wallace, via Rick, to let Tabby play for us again. I even said I’d go to rehab without a fuss if he cut her in.
Asshole isn’t having a bar of it. Which at least is predictable. It’s more than I can say for the rest of the band.
The three of them have been strange today. Strangely kind. After the bust up preshow the other day, and then our falling out about the interviews after, I expected a little more tension between the four of us.
Instead, Emery makes Tabby and me coffee, Kris does my fucking washing with his, and Toby… well, he hasn’t tried to kill me again. Also hasn’t tried to talk to me one-on-one.
Kind of feels like the calm before the storm. They’re a bunch of farmers fattening up the sacrificial cow before I’m sold off for the last time.
Makes me wonder if Rick knows something that I don’t. I give the guy the once-over as he stands at the end of the table, absorbed in his fucking phone as usual. He seems normal, I guess. Not sweating bullets anyway, and if there was anything I should be worried about, he’d be the first giveaway.
“I’m out to get another one of these lifesavers,” Toby announces as he lifts his empty coffee cup. “Anyone else want one?”
“I might come for a walk too, if that’s okay?”
Five heads turn Tabby’s way. She looks at each of us in turn, eyes wide as though to ask what the issue is.
I guess we’re not used to company of the female kind on tour. At least, not the kind that doesn’t fawn all over us and recite facts they’ve read from the shit published online as though each correct one scores them higher on the get-in-my-pants stakes.
“I’ll come too.” I push out from the table as Toby grimaces.
“Great. Right family outing, huh?”
He matches my cool stare as I make my way to Tabby. Fucker knows how to hold a grudge, that’s for sure.
“If you’ve got other things you need to do, I don’t mind going with him alone.”
I take her face in my hands and lay one on her. It’s becoming pretty damn apparent I can’t get enough of kissing this girl. “I’ll come too.”