Page 26 of Down Beat
“Descent of My Mind.” I shift my gaze to Kris as he settles his favorite ESP against his hips. “You catch that?”
He answers with the first chords of his solo.
“Right, guys,” I call, taking my spot at the mic. “Let’s give these lovely ladies a good show.”
I earn a giggle from Café Girl, yet Tabitha stays impassive, simply lifting an eyebrow. I blow that bitch a kiss as Toby taps out the beat with his bass, and then rip her mind apart with the opening riff.
She sits still as a statue while I build the power chords, working up to the best part of the intro, and by the time I drag my pick down the strings to slide into where Kris takes over, she’s leant forward in her seat, elbows on knees as she takes the music in with un-blinking eyes.
That’s it, Tabby-cat. Lap it up. I’ll have this woman addicted to rock and laying that violin down for good in no time.
The song feels good, the lyrics pouring off my tongue with ease as Emery settles, his earlier frustration seemingly lost. Empty or full, it doesn’t matter what that goddamn theater is, I enjoy the moment all the same as I work the stage, putting the sound guys through their paces.
Five minutes and forty-two seconds of pure, unchecked emotion pour from me. My throat hurts from the strain the song demands, my neck stiff as I lay the final chords, but fuck it all, isn’t this why I live?
“Nailed it.” Toby taps the end of his stick to my raised palm, giving me one of his extended high fives.
My chest rises and falls as I catch my breath, Kris’s smile infectious. Fuck yeah. That song alone will sell our next album.
“What did you think, ladies?” Emery struts to the front of the stage to accept the bottle of energy drink Pete passes up.
That guy’s a goddamn legend. I make a mental note to see if he wants a full-time gig.
“Holy. Shit,” Kendall gushes. “I mean, I felt the vibrations in here.” She taps a closed fist to her chest. “That was loud. Awesome, but loud.”
She continues talking to Emery, the grizzly fucker lapping up her adoration the same as he does that bottle of guarana. Yet I hear none of it, my focus squarely on the girl who reclines in her seat as though she’s seen performances like ours a thousand times over.
Maybe she has? Not as though I’ve bothered to find out much about her.
I lift my guitar off my shoulder and set it in its cradle before hopping off the front of the stage with a loud thud.
“Talk to me, Tabby-cat.”
She shrugs. “It was good.”
“Just good?” Way to kill a buzz there, little lady.
“What would I know?” She narrows her critical eyes on me. “I play classical, remember?”
Gonna be like that, huh? “Suppose.” I drop into the seat beside hers and watch the guys as they talk amongst themselves.
Kendall takes her seat on the opposite side of Tabitha again. “I can’t believe you’re opening for these legends, Tab.” She nudges her friend in the arm.
I watch her keenly in my periphery, frustrated when she doesn’t react other than to say, “Lucky me, huh?”
I picked her as the guarded type when we met yesterday. But that’s a damn understatement. This girl isn’t just guarded, she’s estranged from her fucking emotions altogether. Would it kill the woman to be excited about something?
She hasn’t put the bow to the strings yet, but she’s already convinced she’s failed. What the hell has this girl been through to make her so damn pessimistic?
Fuck. And I thought I was a moody buzz-kill at the best of times.
“Rey! Get your ass up here,” Emery calls. “We’ve got time for ‘Succession’ and then we’ve got to split.”
I slam my hand down on Tabitha’s knee and pat her leg twice. “If you thought the last one was ‘okay’, baby, then you might struggle to stay awake during this belter.” I flash her a cocky wink as I rise. “Fair warning, and all.”
If I’m not mistaken, that was the hint of a goddamn smile.
Girl might not be so cold after all.