Chapter 4

Randy

My head feels like a slab of concrete as I hear my alarm go off at six o’clock. I’d set it, knowing that I’d sleep through the night if I let myself. These days I’m sleeping maybe three hours a night, and sometimes not even at night, either. Emily forgets what I look like sometimes, and especially with her just wrapping up a movie shoot and auditioning for others, we barely pass each other in the night. It’s hard sometimes, but we’ve always been able to make it work. When I go on tour, it’s going to be different, though. It won’t be me just at arm’s length rehearsing all hours, I’ll be all over the US and worldwide if it pans out, and so Emily and I will have to fly to see each other. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little uneasy about it.

And just as I’m about to go hop in the shower, I hear her come through the front door. Our house isn’t extravagant by any means, but we’re saving up for a bigger one, and waiting for Emily to fall in love with the perfect one, too. She comes upstairs, and I see her walk into the bedroom. She’s wearing these false lashes, and her makeup is caked on. The dress she’s wearing looks like she should be dancing in a cage, not coming home from work. “Hey, baby.” She says to me, and I detect a hint of alcohol on her.

“Hi, Em.” I kiss her lips. Yep, she’s trashed. “You been drinking?”

“Yeah. We went out after shooting.”

“In that?” I bark in horror, staring at her outfit. “And why are you so tanked at six o’clock at night?”

“Oh, Randy.” She whines, pulling her heels off. “I need to take a shower, baby. I’ve got to get all this shit off my face. Can you give me a hand with this dress?”

“Sure.” I murmur, unzipping her from behind. “You didn’t drive home like that, did you?”

“No, I took a cab.” She explains. “I’ll need you to take me in tomorrow. Can you do that?”

“Sure, babe.” I turn her around. “You okay? It’s not like you to come home smashed and all…made up like this.”

She sighs, and I crane my neck slightly, avoiding the scent. “I’m sorry. I…I got the part I auditioned for, and everyone on set was so happy for me, and Jeff, he got the lead, too, so we’ll be working together. It was…last minute, and they didn’t even give me a chance to change out of my wardrobe clothes. Then I got pissed off because Jeff’s wife showed up and started giving me fucking attitude, and it all just snowballed. Leslie started handing me the hard stuff and, stupidly, I kept tossing them back.”

“Well, I’m happy you got the part, baby.” I say, and then I kiss her. “I wish you could have celebrated with me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We will, okay? I promise.”

I kiss her again. “Why was Jeff’s wife giving you attitude?”

“Because there’s a steamy love scene in this movie, and Jeff’s no longer playing a minor role and in makeup. He’s recognizable and playing my husband in this new movie.”

“Did they at least give Jeff the chance to get out of his costume and wash his makeup off?” I chuckle.

“He wasn’t in makeup today. He was doing voice-overs, so he just hung around on set, since today was the last day for rolling tape.”

“Why didn’t you tell Leslie to lay off? You could’ve told her you’d had enough.”

Another sigh. She drapes a lock of hair behind my ear. “I don’t know. Stupidity. Depression. I’m going to miss all these guys. It’s like the company is closing up shop after years in business when a movie wraps.”

I give her a warm smile. Sometimes under all that tough garb is an innocent, needy little girl, and that’s what I love about her. “Come on, babe. I need to shower, too. I’ll hold you up.”

 

***

 

“Yo, Randy!” Wade shouts from behind the glass in the recording studio. “Why are you so fucking late?”

Emily started puking after we showered, so I had to stick around to make sure she was okay. She’s not a drinker, and I felt bad for her. “Long story, man. I’m sorry.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you call, man?”

“I tried to call but the line was busy.”

Bobby is talking with my guitar technician. He looks up at me. “Sorry, man, I was on the phone. It doesn’t matter that you’re late. Wade’s just busting your balls. We had some technical issues with the sound equipment, anyway. The studio’s cutting us some slack. We’ve got lots of time.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

Wade peers at the guys, trying to adjust their instruments, and then he looks at me. “Hey, what’s going on? You’re never late. You’re always the first one here, yacking everyone’s ear off.”

“Emily got sick, so I had to stick around for a bit.”

His face turns serious, and I love him for it. No matter how much Emily and Wade don’t get along, he still cares about her. “She okay?”

“Oh yeah, yeah. She just…drank a little too much at the wrap party.”

“Oh, okay. And she’s cool now?”

“Yeah. She stopped puking and passed out. I left a bucket by her head. She’ll sleep it off.”

“Good.” He nods and puts his hand on my shoulder, walking me out to the back, I’m guessing for privacy. “Hey, what’s going on with you and Darrell, anyway?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, confused.

“I saw the looks you two were giving each other, man. You’d have to be blind not to see.”

“Seriously? Nothing is going on between us. I think you’re exhausted and seeing things, man.” I scoff.

“You drove her here and back, sat next to her at the restaurant, and I swear to God you kept looking at her the whole fucking time, man. You’ve got the hots for her.”

“No, I don’t, asshole.” I say vehemently. “I’m fucking married, remember?” I raise my left hand and point at my wedding band. “I don’t fuck around on Emily, now that’s final. Quit fucking around.”

His face falls. “I’m not fucking around. I know what I saw.”

“You didn’t see shit.” I say flatly. “She’s a cool chick and all, but it doesn’t go beyond that.”

“You don’t think she’s hot?” he frowns. “I mean, I know Emily’s hot…in a Hollywood sort of way, but Darrell…she’s girl-next-door hot, and that, my brotha, is hard to come by.”

“She’s…pretty, yeah. But dude, I’m married. She could be a fucking runway model and it doesn’t make a bit of difference. Now, will you lay off?”

He raises his arms in defeat. “Fine.”

I hesitate before walking away. “Do you like her?”

“Like you said, she’s cool, and I wouldn’t kick her out of bed, but I think she’s got her eyes on you, my man.” He claps me on the back.

“I think you’re wrong, but whatever, if you’re not into her, you’re not into her.”

“What if I did…you know…like her? Would you be cool with that?”

“Why do you think I asked?”

“Okay. Maybe I’ll bang her tomorrow night after the show or something.” He says with a speculative frown, as if really thinking about it.

“Look, she’s not that type, man. Don’t just…bang her.” I argue, good-naturedly. “Take her out to dinner. Show her a nice time. Take it slow with her. I think you’d get a lot further if you treat her nice and not like a piece of meat.”

“What if I just want to bang her.” he says flatly.

“She won’t go for that. I’m telling you right now.”

“Oh yeah? How do you know?”

“Because she’s been fucked over, man. The guy she was supposed to marry fucked around on her. She’s not a whore, Wade. You treat her like one and it’ll be over before it starts. Besides, we’re in business with her and she’s great at what she does, so don’t fuck with that.”

He lifts one side of his mouth up in an unimpressed smirk. “Fuck, forget it then, man. I’m not up for any relationship-type shit.”

“Maybe you should forget it then. Bang some groupie or some backstage chick. There’s always plenty to go around.”

He looks at me and his smile is quirky. “I’d lay bets that you like her, man.”

“Fuckoff.”

 

***

 

My palms are sweating, like they always do when I practice before a show, and it’s funny how as soon as I’m on stage, it goes away. I can’t explain it. I’m always nervous before the show, but my nerves settle once I’m there. It’s like the stage is my playground, another home for me and my guitar. When Wade mixes together his lemon and honey pre-performance concoction in the green room with me, we hear Bobby laughing and carrying on about something. Both Wade and I lift our heads at him, but it doesn’t take more than a second to figure out what he’s excited about.

Darrell. She’s all decked out in full rock & roll gear, and she looks amazing. With a concert t-shirt she must have scored from a knockoff vendor outside, she’s head-to-toe rock on, clad in black jeans, dark red lipstick, black eyeliner, teased and crimped hair, and even a goddamn what I’m guessing is a washable tattoo. She gives us a spin as she enters the room. “Well? What do you think? Could I pass for a groupie?”

“No.” Wade snuffles. “You’re way less whore-y for that look. And you’re not wearing a leather miniskirt.”

“My sister is.” She states.

“Where is she?” Wade asks, and I elbow him in the ribs.

“She’s getting Corey’s autograph in the dressing room.”

“Ah, so she’s got the hots for him.” Wade says, and I detect a hint of jealousy in his voice.

“Oh yeah. She’d let him eat crackers in her bed any day.”

I smile at her. “You look…hot.” I don’t try to hide my enthusiasm, but I keep my expression and my tone benign, as though I’m complimenting my cousin.

“Thanks. They’re selling bootleg shirts up the street.” She explains, looking down at her top. “Do you guys have any official ‘Brave Face’ shirts yet?”

“Working on it.” Bobby says. “The marketing team will have some proofs soon. We’ve already looked at a bunch of mock-ups.”

“Yeah, and they’re pretty good, but not as good as that one. I wonder where they scored the image for that.”

“Looks like it was taken here.” Wade says, and I’m feeling uneasy as he stares at her shirt, but in actuality, he’s staring at the image on her chest.

“Oh, before I forget, I brought the tape. Actually, I brought two copies, in case you guys want to look at it separately.” Darrell explains, pulling a small backpack off her back, and rifling through it, producing two tapes in cases.

“Thanks. That’s awesome.” I say, taking them from her. I hand them to Bobby, and he cues up the VCR in the green room. I invite her over to sit next to me on the couch, and Wade shoots me an ‘I told you so’ look, which I flip him the bird for in response. We look through it together, and it’s so fantastic, I feel the adrenaline rush through me, knowing that we’re going on soon, and that this video is going to rock MTV. “You’re worth every penny, sweetheart.”

“Aw, thanks. I’m really glad you like it.” She smiles and gives my hand a squeeze. Then she addresses Bobby. “I can distribute it to the MTV people if you want, or you can take one of the copies and give it to the record company for them to peruse and go through those channels. It works whichever way you prefer.”

“I think with this being the first, I’ll let the folks over at Crimson Records take a gander first.”

“That’s a good plan.” Darrell gives him the thumbs up. “Hey, where’s your gun? How come you didn’t hold me up at gunpoint at the entrance? I figured that was your M.O.”

Bobby just smiles, and then Corey and who I assume is Darrell’s sister, appear. She’s hanging on to his arm, and he’s blushing. “Oh, hey, Kris…err, I don’t think I need to introduce anyone here, do I?”

Kris is the same height and stature as Darrell, except that she has really dark black hair, short, and her face is curvier, with an angled chin and a boney nose. She’s attractive, but Darrell is definitely the prettier of the two. “Hi, guys. I’m Kristina, Darrell’s sister, but you can call me Kris if you want me to answer you.”

Getting up off the couch, I go to shake her hand, giving her a nod and a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She grins. Darrell and Kris have the same smile, too.

When I go take my place beside Darrell again, Wade elbows me in the ribs. “Hey, she doesn’t look as ‘damaged’ as you let on, man. You see how she’s latched on to Corey?” he murmurs as Darrell goes to rewind the tape, so we can start it over. I’m guessing so Corey can see it, too.

“Then it doesn’t matter, anyway, now, does it?” I scoff, feeling irritated. “Hey, where’s Gordon?”

Wade takes a sip of beer from a can that Bobby just handed to him. “With a groupie out back, I think.”

“There are groupies here?” Kris hisses, clearly impressed. She’s starstruck, and I’m suddenly glad that Darrell is the one we’re doing business with, but then I get the feeling that maybe Darrell doesn’t share some of her work bullshit with her sister. I assume that a lot of it has to be kept confidential. Not unless you don’t want to continue doing business with bands. You can’t bite the hand that feeds you, so to speak. “Can I go see?”

“Easy, killer.” Darrell say, and I feel her embarrassment. “Keep this up and I’ll go buy nosebleed seats for you from that scalper that tried to pick me up.”

“Alright, alright.” Kris whines. “How are you not crawling out of your skin? I mean, ‘Swivel’ is going to be here any minute, and we’re hanging around with the guys from ‘Brave Face’! How surreal is this?”

“They’re people, Kris. And they’re also people I do business with, so please stop embarrassing me, or they may never invite us back, or do business with me again, for that matter.”

“It’s okay, Darrell.” Bobby smiles.

“Easy for you to say. At least you didn’t pull a gun on her.” Darrell jokes as the tape finishes rewinding. “Okay. Should we wait for Gordon?”

“Err…he may be a while, sweetheart.” Wade says. “I saw him grab a handful of condoms before he left.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh…okay.” She snorts a laugh. “Well, he at least knows when the show’s going to start, right?”

“We flip for who’s going to go get him.” I explain, only half-joking. We really do have to go find him usually. It’s starting to piss me off if I’m being honest. I mean, we have to get revved up to go on stage, and he’s usually out the back fucking some chick, and he proceeds to fuck another one right after the show, too.

“It’s my turn.” Wade interjects. “Fuck him. We’ll watch the video without him.”

I gesture with my hand for her to proceed. “Okay.” She nods, pressing play. I pat the couch, so she’ll come sit next to me again. Kris takes the seat right next to Darrell and is all ears. The video is so awesome. I love it. I could watch it over and over again. The footage comes to life the way she did it. With the filters and highlights she used, the naturalness of the video is brought out, without it looking fake or embellished.

“Man, I’m very impressed, babe.” I say, and I inwardly chide myself for calling her that. She must think it’s part of the backstage rock & roll lingo, because she lets it roll off her back.

“What do you guys think?” she says to the room, after smiling at me.

“It’s fucking awesome, Darrell.” Kris says. “I’ve seen your work, and this is, hands down, one of your best.”

“Thanks, sis.” She grins.

“Yeah, it’s awesome. I’ll book you to do the next single as soon as I get the green light from Crimson.” Bobby says.

“Man, I can’t wait to see this thing on MTV. We’re going to tear them up.” Wade compliments. “You done good, kid.”

“Thanks. It’s my job.” She says modestly. Then she addresses her sister. “Well, Kris, should we let these guys get ready? The show starts in about twenty minutes, right?”

“Yeah. Hey, Wade, go hunt down Gordon. Whether he’s finished or not.” Bobby instructs, and we watch Wade saunter out the back door.

Darrell rises with her sister and looks at me. “Well, thanks again for letting us come back here, and for giving us great seats.”

“How do you know you have good seats?” I tease. “You don’t even know where you’re sitting yet.”

“I’m sure they’ll be much better than what I could get at the door.” She says matter-of-factly.

I turn to face Bobby. “Hey, can they sit behind the speaker cabinets? Have we got enough room with ‘Swivel’s shit back there, too?”

“I’ll check.” Bobby says and exits.

“Speaker cabinets?” Darrell asks me as Kris keeps eying Corey up and down while he takes his shirt off and starts tapping his drumsticks on the wooden benches by the wall.

“Yeah, at the side of the stage. They’re the best seats in the house besides front row, and at least back there, you won’t get trampled in the mosh pit.” I explain.

“Oh my God!” Kris gushes, starstruck again.

“Relax, Kris.” Darrell admonishes, and then she addresses me again. “Don’t you have to reserve those seats for more important people? Don’t you have like a V.I.P. list or something?”

“No, not really. This is our first show, remember.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs, embarrassed. “Oh my God. This is your first show! Why aren’t you like…puking or something? Why did you guys invite us back here, when this is your first show?”

“Relax, babe.” There it is again. “We’ve done hundreds of shows, just not with this many people. It’s not that much different. Sure, we’re a little bent out of shape because we want to charm the pants off the audience and ‘Swivel’, but this type of stuff is like breathing to us.”

Bobby re-enters the room. “It’s done. Mark’ll take you guys over to where you’re sitting.”

“Did you get them a spot at the side?” I ask.

“Sure, yeah. They’re going to sit by Stu.” Stu is one of my guitar technicians.

“Okay.” I nod at Bobby, and then turn back to face the girls. “Mark’s a good guy. He’ll show you the way. And Stu’s a good guy, too, he’s my guitar tech. He’ll be passing me my guitars, so I’ll see you when I come back that way. You’ll have a great view from there.”

“You guys are so awesome.” Darrell says warmly. “I wish I could give you the video for free. If it were up to me, I would.”

I kiss her on the cheek. “Don’t sweat it, babe. I’ll see you after the show.”

Man, what is it with that?