Page 121 of Down Beat
He shrugs. “Fucked if I know.”
I slide the gate in the security fence open and let him through first, shutting it behind us. Kris gives one of the site staff a wave as we head for the road. The chauffeured vehicle Wallace hires while we’re on tour is occupied taking Toby and Emery to some bar they got recommended—not that the asshole would let me use it anyway—leaving Kris and me to cab it back to the hotel.
I refused the chance to go out and live it up, eager to get back to kitty. But I’ve got no idea why Kris turned the offer down.
Fuck—I heard there were strippers involved. God knows the guy could use some of that kind of release.
“How come you aren’t going out with the other idiots?” I ask as we near where the cab will pick us up.
He sniffs, working his jaw side to side. “Didn’t feel like it.”
“Everything good with you?” I get pretty damn wrapped up in myself a lot of the time, so who knows what I’ve missed.
Kris nods as he squints at the headlights that approach. “Not in the mood for people, man.” He drops his smoke and stubs it out as the cab pulls up. “Nothing to be worried about, though. Not like your shit.”
I frown as he opens the door and slides in, leaving me to follow. “Fuck my issues, dude. Don’t keep quiet because of me.”
Kris tells the driver where to go, and then sinks into the plush leather seat before he speaks again. “I can deal with my own shit, Rey. If I needed help, I’d let you know.”
“Yeah, well make sure you do.” Because I’m pretty sure his skill isn’t expendable.
He’s an uncut diamond when it comes to guitar players, and when he finds the right mentor to help smooth off those edges and hone his worth, fuck, he’ll be a legend.
“An early night, a quiet room, and no fucking lights pointed at me is all I want,” Kris murmurs, closing his eyes and punching both hands into the pocket of his hoodie.
“Yeah, I hear you.” Half the time that’s all I need to recharge too: the serenity of the dark.
Except tonight I crave the touch of a woman I barely hold on to. She’s a precious keepsake, teetering on the tips of my fingers while I hold my breath, waiting to see if she’ll fall.
Unlike me, I don’t think she’ll bounce if she hits the ground.
Kris pops his earbuds in while we travel, leaving me to stew in my thoughts alone. Every grab of downtime I’ve had this afternoon I’ve mulled over what to say to Tabby to explain the bullshit she’s in for. I want to give the woman fair warning, but I don’t want to scare her away. Yet I’ve more respect for her than to flat-out lie and leave her to be blindsided with my douchebag behavior when the mania hits.
“How was the show tonight, brother?”
I glance at our driver—an older black guy with more than a few grays in his hair. “Yeah. It was good, man. Thanks for asking.” His ID says his name is Robert. “You listen to us?” Most of our fans are younger, but there are still a few that take you by surprise.
“No,” he says with a hint of humor. “My daughter. She found you guys last year. It really turned her around.” His gaze flicks to mine in the rearview every so often.
“How so?” I swivel to face him, settling in to the conversation.
Kris carries on with his music, eyes closed and oblivious.
“We had some issues at school,” Robert says. “Bullies, that kind of thing that you get with teenagers.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Her mom and I were at a loss for what to do, man.” He shakes his head. “But we trusted that she’d come to us if she wanted us; we gave her the space she needed. She spent a lot of time in her room with music, and you were one of the bands she’d have on repeat.” He smiles in the mirror at me. “I swear by the time she came around I knew half the words to your songs, too.”
I chuckle with him, yet my chest is heavy with what he’s obviously been through. “Well I’m glad she’s doing better.”
“Yeah, me too.” He nods, returning the drive to silence.
I spend the next five minutes or so catching glimpses of the guy, still a little disbelieving that we can have an impact in people’s lives like that. I guess Robert is the universe’s way of giving me a little nudge to say “Hey, you aren’t as much of a fuck up as you think you are.” He’s proof I have to be doing something right.
Kris nods gently to his music as I reach over and slide his backpack from the floor. He carries on, unaware that I have his prized possession in hand; hopefully there’s some shit in here that I can leave with Robert for his daughter.
My hand touches card, and hopeful I’ve found one of our promo shots, I pull it out. Yet what greets me as I bring it into the light leaves me wondering who the fuck this guy next to me is. A picture of a girl. Our age, I’m guessing. I should shove it back in his bag, pretend I didn’t see anything, yet curiosity gets the better of me and I glance over to make sure his eyes are still shut before I turn the picture over.