Part 6 (2/2)
”No. Drank too much. Getting a little over excited I guess.”
The view from the stage stuns and terrifies me as I picture the crowd who'll fill the s.p.a.ce later. Last gig I went to at a stadium was Foo Fighters, where I threw myself into the action at the front. How can people stuck in the top seats enjoy concerts? What's the point if you can't dance?
”Your gear's over there. Five minutes and someone was about to start sound-checking for you.”
I tense. n.o.body touches my guitars. Bad enough I have to relinquish them to be driven from place to place with all the other gear.
Heading over to the edge of the stage, I grab the battered case, smoothing where the peeling stickers have been knocked in transit. Inside rests my new pride and joy; the Gibson Les Paul I bought with the advance from our record deal. Okay, a mid-list guitar, but this is the start of a collection to one day rival Jem Jones's. Stroking the wood, I examine for damage but there's none. Good.
Nate appears from backstage. He and Will are dressed identically today, black jeans and the new tour t-s.h.i.+rts, same blue Converse. Presumably this is to confuse people on purpose, something they enjoy. Years of knowing the pair and despite the fact they look exactly the same in every way, I know the subtle differences in their faces and mannerisms. Plus, he's carrying drumsticks, which is a giveaway.
”Hey man, decided to turn up?”
”Sorry,” I mutter again, fed up with the constant apologising.
He shrugs. ”Ruby was late and disappeared for an hour when she heard you were 'delayed', so we haven't got far with the check.”
Sneaky. Ruby never told me that.
”Yeah, you gotta be out in an hour for Phoenix, so get your a.r.s.e into gear.” A tall, muscular guy with a sour look indicates the speakers. ”Sound engineer wants a break too.”
”'Kay.”
Curious and concerned about Ruby, I watch her as I head to plug my guitar in. She smooths her hair, and kneels as she tapes a set list to the floor.
”Ruby? We gonna do this?”
She looks over. ”Right. Hang on.”
Ruby's guitar rests on the floor near the mic and my concern grows at her lack of interaction. I'm f.u.c.king nervous about the first night opening for Blue Phoenix. Are her nerves so bad that she's been terrified into a personality change?
Mid-way through the check, Ruby abruptly stops singing, sets her guitar down, and heads off stage without a word. I look back at Nate who pauses, holding his drumsticks in the air with a shrug. Throwing an apology to the now red-faced stage manager, I unhook my guitar from my neck, put it down, and follow.
The narrow backstage hallway lacks the sophistication of the main venue, concrete floors and plain walls. Ruby is nowhere to be seen.
TEGAN.
A tour of the venue is quick and boring. Metal shutters block off some areas; chairs are stacked in corners. I try a few doors that lead into the stadium but most are locked. Apart from a couple of ladies vacuuming the dark blue carpets, the place is empty. After taking a few shots of the surroundings on my phone, I head in the direction Bryn went ten minutes ago. Maybe he's backstage.
Backstage. Could be awesome. Could be boring too. My stomach growls. Bet there's food, though.
Circling the huge venue, I finally locate a door without a section number above and step through into a concrete floored hallway. The door slams behind, sound echoing down the empty s.p.a.ce and I pause, attempting to figure out the best way to go. Nearby sounds of voices and music point me in the direction of the stage.
A door opposite opens and a girl around my age steps out. Perspiration s.h.i.+nes on her deathly pale face, and the scarlet red hair instantly tells me who this is. The larger than life, seldom polite, lead singer of Ruby Riot, Ruby. She rests against the wall smoothing tendrils of damp hair from her forehead. I glance at a sign on the wall above. The bathrooms.
”Are you okay?” I ask.
Ruby looks up and blinks at me. ”Yeah. I'm good.”
”You don't look it.”
”You're Bryn's sister, aren't you?” she asks, ignoring my concern for her welfare.
”I am. How did you know?”
”You look like him. Same eyes. Jem told me you were here and how p.i.s.sed off Bryn is.” Ruby wipes at her clammy forehead with the edge of her jumper.
”I think he's generally p.i.s.sed off with everything currently.”
”Haven't spoken to him recently.”
”I'm Tegan.”
”Ruby.”
”Are you sure you're all right?”
She pulls herself away from the wall. ”I said, yes.” The irritation in her voice points to the Ruby reputation I've heard about. Short fuse. She looks past my shoulder. ”f.u.c.king great...”
I turn around. Jax strides toward us and ignores me when he reaches Ruby. ”What's going on?”
”I needed the bathroom.”
He reaches out and rubs her arm. ”You look sick. Were you sick again?”
”I'm fine, Jax,” she says tersely.
”Is this about tonight? Are you that nervous?”
Jax chews his lip as he studies her and the concern on his face grabs me. I never considered how close he'd be to the lead singer, especially as she's in a relations.h.i.+p with the intense and scary Jem. Ruby rests against the wall again and looks at the floor, breathing deeply.
”s.h.i.+t, Ruby. You need to see a doctor. This is getting worse.” Jax pushes hair from Ruby's face and places a palm on her forehead.
Stunned, I watch the so-called new bad boy of rock mothering the foul-mouthed girlfriend of rock royalty.
”We need to finish the sound check,” she mutters.
”I think you should rest, you can't be like this when we play tonight.”
”I'm totally f.u.c.king aware of how big tonight is for us,” she snaps. ”Do you think I enjoy this?”
Ruby's hand trembles and Jax's concerned frown grows. ”You have been sick! Rube... Find Jem. Go back to the hotel. I'll do the vocals for the check instead, rest and save your energy for for tonight.”
”I don't want to let you guys down.” Her voice is a whisper, shoulders slumping further.
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