Page 35 of Down Beat
I want to see the utter look of devastation on that asshole’s face when he’s dragged out.
“She wants me to play ‘Pull Me Under.’”
I stare at him as though he has two heads. “What the fuckity-fuck?”
“Right?” His gaze flicks over my shoulder.
I turn back in time to see the crew member hustle down the aisle. The jackass ignores him the first time my little buddy taps his shoulder, only turning on the second more forceful tap. I might not be able to hear the words exchanged, but the mime is funny enough. The guy refuses to leave.
My little gopher looks absolutely devastated.
“Be right back.”
I leave Toby side of stage and literally float over the floor as I run quiet as I can down the stairs, along the back hallway, and then up into the side alley. Yeah, there are a few curious looks thrown my way as I emerge around the front of the theater. The few people who hang out in the foyer buying snacks, or heading for the bathrooms, all appear stunned as I rip the auditorium door open.
Heads turn like a goddamn Mexican wave, the gossip train making its way down the aisle faster than I do. By the time I reach the asshole in Row C, Tabby has finished her third song, and I have the captive attention of everybody in a ten-seat radius.
“Excuse me.”
The girlfriend gasps as the guy twists to see who spoke. He turns so damn fucking white I expect him to pass out from the sudden blood loss. “Hey, Rey.”
“Get the fuck out of my show,” I hiss.
His brow pinches. “Look, man. I didn’t mean any disrespect. She’s boring as all fuckin’ hell.”
I reach over the guy sitting in the aisle seat, and take a fist hold of the cunt’s collar. “Move.”
Tabby’s chipper voice carries through the auditorium as she announces her special guest. Eyes on me, she welcomes Toby to the stage.
The lower seats roar with excitement.
It dawns on me that I still have this guy in a hold. One vicious stare, and he rises to his feet. The girlfriend starts to follow, yet I hold a hand out to stop her. “Sit.”
She blinks a couple of times, and then snaps out of her daze as Toby’s sticks hit skin.
Her ass hits the chair while I palm her boyfriend off to my gopher. “Make sure he doesn’t come back in.”
“Rey, man. I’m sorry,” the guy begs. “Let me stay, huh?”
“Out,” I whisper-yell, pointing to the foyer doors.
Toby taps his way through the song’s intro and then, the magic happens. Right where I usually take my first breath, Tabby lifts her bow to the strings. And just like that, my lyrics become her sonata.
I stand entranced, watching this stubborn little woman as she absolutely slays my song. The audience rock out as she makes those strings sing. A lone person brings their hands together, and before any of us can comprehend what the fuck happens, half the lower floor has their arms over their head as they clap out the beat.
I took the mickey out of her for the genre she’s chosen to play. I was damn certain she’d fail and make a fucking fool of herself.
But who’s the fool now?
“Rey,” my gopher whispers. “You’re needed backstage.”
I nod, absently pushing him aside as Tabby reaches the climax of the song. My lips move of their own accord, and I sing along under my breath as she replays my favorite lines on her violin.
Your whispers, like ice.
Your heart, like stone.
You pull me under, pull me under,
I’d rather die alone.