Part 30 (1/2)
”You don't have to do that, just stop moping and live! We're in f.u.c.king Amsterdam, man. And stop checking in with her all the time. Me and Nate, we're gonna check out the places from a couple of years ago. Now that was a great weekend!”
”I intend to. Come on.” I stand, p.i.s.sed off at his goading. After talking to Tegan, I need something to fill the gap left by her absence. Plus, yeah, I'm in f.u.c.king Amsterdam.
A tall building on the outskirts of the city houses the TV studio. The twins and me grab a taxi and arrive at the allotted time; I'm impressed we manage because the world's become increasingly hazy. Once inside, I squint at the bright orange and yellow walls as the stage manager leads us to the dressing room. Will and Nate stumble along next to me, whispering.
The chick opens a door to a brightly lit room with chairs and mirrors, and disappears. Unsure what else to do, I sit on one of the four high-backed leather chairs.
In the mirror, a dishevelled guy with huge pupils looks back and I point. ”f.u.c.k! Look at me!”
Will practically sticks his nose on the mirror, and casts a glance at the counter covered in bottles and tubes. ”They gonna put make-up on us?”
Nate giggles. Full on giggles like a girl, and pushes through the carefully sorted box of cosmetics. He pulls out a pencil.
”Will! You would look f.u.c.king awesome in guy-liner.” He splutters out another laugh.
Will s.n.a.t.c.hes the pencil off him, removes the lid, and studies the tip. ”Reckon?”
”Yeah, come here.”
I sink down in the seat and watch Nate's clumsy attempt to draw around Will's eyes. ”f.u.c.k! Don't poke my eye out, dude.” Will s.n.a.t.c.hes the pencil.
”I've only done one!”
”I'll do you.” Will holds Nate's head and a few moments later, he has an uneven streak of black beneath his eyes to match.
A young woman with brown, curly hair and a ha.s.sled look walks into the room and her mouth drops as she looks at us. ”You started without me?” she asks in a local accent.
”Sorry, sweetheart,” smiles Will.
”Reckon you can cope with three of us?” asks Nate flicking her a suggestive smile.
The chick throws him back a look that suggests she's dealt with stars like him before. ”More than capable,” she retorts.
I watch in the mirror as she crosses the room and gathers sponges and a container of brown cream. Seriously, she's going to put make up on my face? I'm only playing on the show for five minutes, no interview. I hope.
The sounds in the room fade as I disappear into thoughts of Tegan, while my band mates continue their private jokes. Another woman appears, older, with the demeanour of a nanny and she soon shuts up Will and Nate. At least until one of them escapes from the chair and heads to the Green Room.
Ten minutes later, feeling as if somebody's covered my face in a layer of mud, I stumble out of the door into the hallway. The discordant noise around confuses me, the drugged feeling growing. I should've stuck with beers, at least until the show is over.
The Green Room contains three talk-show guests and the band. Including Ruby. She takes one look at me before heading over, grabbing my arm, and pulling me into a corner.
”Don't tell me you're f.u.c.king high too!” she hisses.
I blink. ”What? No.”
”Bulls.h.i.+t. Have you seen the state of those two?”
Will and Nate lounge on a plush sofa in the corner of a room with two blonde-haired, orange-faced chicks with huge t.i.ts. A mutual appreciation society has been formed; I recognise the looks between the brothers.
”They're always like that,” I reply.
”You're lucky Jem isn't here,” she growls.
”It's all good, Rube.”
”You f.u.c.k this up and...” She waves her hands in exasperation. ”I can't believe you got stoned!”
Another guest, a middle-aged actress I recognise from minor Hollywood films, looks up in surprise. Ruby lowers her voice. ”What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you, Jax?”
”All right, I'm stoned.”
”No, the f.u.c.king drinking! I know you like partying but you're hardly sober these days and when you do drink, you don't know when to stop!”
”Yeah, I know, it's all good.”
”No. It isn't.” I focus on Ruby's face, expecting a sour look, but concern frames her features. ”I'm worried.”
”I'm a rock star,” I say and hiccup. Ruby's face expression s.h.i.+fts to dismay and an idea floats across my dulled mind. ”I'm not like him. I'm not taking drugs.”
”Umm. You clearly are.”
”No, like real drugs.” I wave my hand dismissively.
”f.u.c.k, Jax,” she mutters. ”Just think about what you're doing.”
I'm about to make a comment about her f.u.c.king her life up getting pregnant and how she has no right to lecture me about my choices, but I swallow down the words. ”Yeah. 'Kay.”
”Sit down and sober up. We have half an hour.”
”Is there anything for us to eat?” I ask and scout the room. ”Oh. Nice. Beers.”
”Don't you dare! I don't care what you do later, but I don't want the band playing like s.h.i.+t on live TV!”
Ruby's right. I help myself to the sandwiches on a table nearby, and slump back in my seat. When I'm with Will and Nate, my self-control takes a backseat in the interest of maximum fun. Since Tegan isn't around, and p.i.s.sed off she isn't, I launch myself too hard into the evening. Telling myself I'll be fine on TV would've worked if I'd stuck to beer, but we didn't.
Will heads over to Ruby and wraps an arm around her shoulders. ”We're good. I could play 'My Kinda Disaster' in my sleep; we've performed it that much in the last few months.”
”I b.l.o.o.d.y hope so!” She shrugs his arm away.
The door opens and Riley walks in, face thunderous.
”Hey, it's Smiley Riley,” I call. ”She's come to see her favourite boys!”
”Can I talk to the three of you?” she barks. ”Out here.”