Broken Strings (A Rock Star Novel) (8 page)

When Gabby arrives at 2:30 I
explain my plan to her. She gives me her blessing and saves my place in line
while I search for Stewart, or anyone else that may have access to the band
that I can get a message through to Silas. First I walk to the front of the
line, hoping that there would be someone posted at the front doors. No luck.

After a few minutes I locate
the tour trucks and the band’s bus; all of which are cordoned off by these
movable metal ‘fences’, clearly meant to keep fans well away from the band’s
bus and all the equipment trucks. I wander around the trucks at a distance,
hoping I can catch sight of Silas or Stewart maybe coming and going from the
band’s bus.

I look at my watch. It’s
almost 3:30, a little early for the band to be in there doing sound checks, so
they’re probably kicking back on the bus just passing time. I hang around for
close to an hour but the only people showing their faces seem to be crew
members who typically do not interact with fans and hailing one will not get me
anywhere. I rejoin Gabby to wait.  

Normally the line at a Fringe
show borders on a party-like atmosphere but word seems to have gotten around
about Brand and most of the regulars that I knew were pretty subdued. It seems
that Brand had been doing a little networking himself and has developed quite a
little following. I’m guessing I have Gabby to thank for spreading the bad
news.

I wouldn’t have said
anything, but I’m actually kinda glad she did. All afternoon Lunatics old and
young alike stop by to whisper words of encouragement to me. If they only knew
what I am about to do, if they only knew…

I accept the kind words while
Gabby fills them in on the latest news of his progress; which isn’t much. He is
still in ICU, in a coma, and struggling to hang on. Each person that wishes him
well, via me, brings new Brand memories to mind. It’s weird, I haven’t known
him all that long, but I really feel like we had something special and now that
he’s…well he’s in this condition, I feel that even stronger. I don’t know for
sure, but I think he felt the same. It sucks that I don’t know for sure…and may
never know.

By the time 6 rolls around,
the typical time for the doors to open, I have had my fill of Brand
well-wishers. I am touched by some, and not by others. Some it seems are just
jumping on the get well soon Brand, bandwagon. Luckily, while we're waiting
Stewart comes strolling down the line to join the ranks of well-wishers.

“Hey uh…Stew, how’d you know
I was looking for you?”

“I didn’t. Hey I’m real sorry
about your friend. I want you to know that the band and I will be thinking of
him and we all wish him a speedy recovery.”

“Thanks,” I say. “So you’re
looking for me?”

“Sure, Silas asked me to
extend you and your two friends an invitation to come backstage after the
show.”

I nearly fall over in my
tracks. This could not be any more perfect.

“You mentioned you were
looking for me?” Stewart asks.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I wanted to
ask about Silas actually.” I say blushing.

“Wish granted.”

“Yeah, thanks. I was hoping
to finish the story Brand was writing on the band since it doesn’t look like
he’ll make his deadline.”

“Hey, anything we can do to
help, you just let us know. In fact, which hospital is he in? And what’s his
room number? We’d like to send something just so he knows we’re thinking about
him.”

“Wow…uh, it’s Highland Hospital
in Oakland, room 3027 S.”

“Great, now I’d better get
back before they open the doors. Oh, here’s your passes. I guess you’ll just
need two now? Or is there someone else you’d like to invite?”

“Two’s fine,” I answer
without thinking. That little move garners me more than a few nasty looks from
the Lunatics that had been gathering around ever since Stewart has been talking
to us.

“Wait a second,” I say. “I
guess I could use another pass after all.”

Stewart happily gives me the
third pass that would have been Brand’s. “What was the focus of his article
going to be, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Now we get into some sticky
territory here. Of course the truth here just won’t due so I’ve gotta come up
with something doable. “I think he wanted to do a general story about Fringe’s
rise to the top of the metal genre; something like that.”

“Great, as long as it’s not
that damned
Get the Dirt
crap! I saw him talking to Hammer and Marcus a
lot. Are they going to be the focus of his article?”

I almost cringe at his remark
about the contest. I had no idea he would even be aware of it.

“Actually I think he really
wanted to focus on Silas. He followed the whole thing about what happened to
Myles Ketter and he really wanted to get a sense of who Silas is and what he
brings to the band…I think. I really just want to put together a great story
for him and I probably won’t get to talk to him again to find out what his plans
really were. I’m just making educated guesses here.”

“Well, Silas wants…
we
want to help. I’ll instruct the band to talk to you and answer any questions
you have. I believe I have already told you Silas is my nephew so if you need
more information than you can get out of the man himself I’ll happily fill you
in.”

I can feel my face beginning
to get warm. These guys are bending over backwards to help Brand and me and
what I’m really gonna do is stab them in the back.

“You okay June?” Gabby’s
looking at me funny.

“Huh…oh yeah. I was just
thinking about Brand lying there in a coma while I’m here doing his assignment,
one he’d kill to be doing right now instead of me.”

“Well I think it’s amazing
what you’re trying to do for him. You’re like the perfect girlfriend June.”

“Hey girls, I really gotta
get back before they open the gates so I guess I’ll see you both after the
show. And I really mean it, if you want to know anything about the band or
Silas in particular, ask me.”

Face is burning again.
“Thanks so much Stewart, Brand would have really appreciated it.”

“Any time girls,” he says
over his shoulder as he leaves.

Suddenly there’s a jostling
all around me as girls and a few guys seem to be queuing up to get the other
backstage pass. I was really meaning to save it and give it to Brand as a gift
from the band but maybe I better just give it away before I get lynched.

“What are you going to do
with that pass?” Gabby wants to know.

"I'm going to give it to
Brand, as a present from the band." I admit.

“Are you serious June?” She
hisses in my ear. “We’ll…you’ll get lynched. Look at this crowd.”

I look. They all look hostile
to me. Nobody looks happy. They just look like a bunch of rabid fans willing to
do anything for a backstage pass. This must be exactly how I look most of the
time I’m at a Fringe show; that’s scary.

“Well what do you think
Gabbs? How am I gonna give it away and still not get hurt in the process?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I
was trying to signal you to turn down the offer for the third pass.”

“So that’s what you were
doing then? I just thought it was constipation.”

“Very funny. I’m serious here
June. This is going to get nasty!”

She’s right. The doors have
been opened and as we make our way up to the front we’re being jostled around
by hostile Lunatics and not everything that’s being said or offered is kind.

“Bitch is just gonna keep it
for herself!” Someone guesses out loud.

“Obviously she’s whoring for
the manager,” suggests another girl.

“Give it up bitch before we
take it off your body!” Shouts a voice from somewhere behind us.

We’re almost up to the doors.
I look at Gabby. “Hey, when I say go, just run for the doors.”

“Oh I don’t know about this…”

I look towards the doors.
We’re only about twenty feet. We’ll just run up there and the security guys
there will…should keep us from getting lynched. It’s the only plan I can think
of.

A very large girl steps up to
me. “Let’s just take it from her!” She yells.

I throw the extra pass back
over her head as far as I can.

“Run!” I scream at Gabby, and
I duck under the behemoth’s outstretched arms and sprint for the safety of the
entrance doors.

I don’t dare look behind me.
I can hear a loud commotion as Lunatics are fighting for the pass. I really
didn’t think this through. I just made a host of enemies, ones that I’m going
to see for the next fifteen shows; that is if I go to all the ones I have
tickets for.

I reach the front doors completely
out of breath. I turn around fully expecting to be facing an angry throng but
it looks like everyone’s still fighting over the pass. I’m glad to see Gabby
made it too. Before the other Lunatics can get angry we stand aside and allow
the others to go in until we get to the girls that were standing near our spots
in the line.

“Man are you in trouble,” one
of the girls offers as the guards are searching her.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t think
of a fair way to giving it away.”

“You should probably watch
your back tonight. There’s gonna be some really pissed off Lunatics gunning for
you tonight.”

What a disaster this has been.
I give the girl an apologetic look. “Hey could we squeeze in here before the
others catch up to us?”

“Yeah sure,” she begins. “I
don’t wanna get stuck in the middle of a riot.”

“Thanks so much!” I say.

Gabby and I quickly present
our tickets to the guards and we rush inside to safety; for the moment at
least.

By the time we make our way
to a good spot in the general admission section, the lights are pretty dim.
Maybe they won’t recognize me. I have a grey hoodie I’ve been carrying around,
and even though it’s a little warm, I decide to put it on, hood pulled up.
Maybe with this on I won’t be recognized.

I ask Gabby and she confirms,
in the dim light I look pretty different, and when the lights go the rest of
the way down nobody’s going to be able to pick me out of a crowd.

For the first time ever, I
don’t really enjoy the show all that much. The entire time I find myself just
waiting for the finale.

As we make our way to the
backstage doors I am finally able to relax.

I turn to Gabby to express my
relief when my face explodes in pain and my vision begins to flee.
Automatically my hands fly to my face and almost immediately I feel like a
battering ram has just slammed into my stomach.

When I hit the ground I find
myself gasping for air. I can’t breathe! As I struggle to get to my knees
someone kicks me in the ribs knocking me on my back. Pain shoots through my
side and all over my head as more kicks are colliding with my unprotected body,
and the worst part is I can't see or breathe.

Suddenly it gets very quiet
and I just feel numb all over. As my breath gradually returns I get the sensation
that I’m rocking, like on a boat or something, rocking side to side then back
and forth. It’s very dark and quiet here. At least the pain is gone.

“June!”

“June, wake up!” That sounds
like Gabby. She’s shouting my name from very far away.

“June…wake up.” She’s getting
closer. “June can you hear me? How do you feel?”

I groan and I realize I’m
lying on something. I open my eyes and see a bunch of concerned faces looking
down at me. There’s my best friend Gabby, there’s Stewart, and there’s Silas
and the rest of the band, and everyone’s got this same kind of worried look of
concern on their faces.

Judging from their
expressions I must look a mess. I make a move to sit up and pain shoots around
in my head like a lightning storm is taking place behind my eyes. I close them
and wait for the pain to subside; it does a little.

“Here, take this.” A man with
a stethoscope around his neck and a worried expression on his face extends me
two tablets and a small plastic bottle of water.

“What are they?” I ask.

“Ibuprofen. They’ll help with
the pain.”

“Who are you?”

“My name’s Tim, I’m a
paramedic working for the venue tonight.”

Gratefully I accept the pills
and with some difficulty am able to swallow them while still lying down. I
close my eyes again and wait for the medication to do its magic.

“June…earth to June…”

I hear Gabby’s sing-song
voice calling to me. I get the sense that I’ve been sleeping. I also feel a
hell of a lot better too.

“Yeah I’m here,” I reply. “I
need to sit up, can you help me?”

I feel strong arms under mine,
lifting my upper body. They swing me around to where I’m sitting now on a
couch. I look at the faces around me and start to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Gabby
wants to know.

“You guys all look like you
just lost your best friend or something.”

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