JAKE BARRETT was an even bigger nerd than Krish, and that was saying something. You’d never know his brother was a metal guitar virtuoso. Krish glanced at the guy’s wardrobe choice for the day—pastel plaid Bermuda shorts, Teva sandals, a mint-green polo shirt that only sort of blended with his shorts, and a maroon Vans windbreaker, his only acknowledgment that they were headed to the music festival the brand sponsored. His blond hair was barbered into a clean-cut fade with a bit of flair at the front. His brown eyes were friendly and his rosy cheeks showed off his enthusiasm about everything in life to varying degrees, but his smile truly set him apart. It contained enough wattage to power half the UC San Diego campus, where they’d met five years ago.
“I can’t wait to see my brother. I know he’s so excited to be touring. After his last band broke up, he was worried he’d never play again, much less the Warped Tour.” Jake had greeted him at his door with a big hug and without a hello after their four-month separation. Before Krish opened the door, he was further into the conversation than Krish’s brain could catch up with.
“Good to see you, man. You hit much traffic?”
Jake had driven down early that morning from the Inland Empire. He’d moved on to graduate school there after December, when he finished his bachelor’s degree. Krish had needed one more semester. Now Jake was interested in earning his MBA and making money, while Krish wanted to write about music, social justice, and video games. Despite their divergent career paths, they remained the best of friends.
“None, if you can believe it, but then I left at five, just to be sure.”
“Such the eager beaver.” Krish had been awake that long, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He was finally experiencing the cliché, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.” Everything was going to change for him… and this was the day he might finally meet Silas Franklin. That thought had his palms sweaty and his mouth dry.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Krish said, giving him another hug and trying to collect himself. He really had missed Jake, and his enthusiasm would make it easier to loosen up. He was so damn tense. “Thanks for driving me. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Jake raised his eyebrows. “Can’t believe you’re doing this? You’re about to spend the summer surrounded by music and hot guys. I can’t believe you’d consider not doing it. It just sucks that your finals schedule meant missing the first day.”
“I know. As it is, my parents are pissed I’m not walking at graduation. But I told them they had better things to do than sit in the baking-hot sun for hours waiting for the two point eight seconds I’d be onstage getting my diploma.”
“They’d do it, though. They did it for Viv.”
Krish’s smile passed from excited and nervous to sad as he remembered when the three of them attended Vivaan’s college and boot camp graduations. Krish had been in such awe of his brother, especially his physical transformation from skinny cross-country and track star to beefcake Marine. He’d given him shit about it for a long time.
“That all you can take? Gawd. I’d never be able to live out of a duffel bag for two whole months.”
Krish grabbed his bag and closed and locked the door behind him. Both of his parents had to work today, so they’d said their goodbyes earlier. His mom had hugged him about fifty times between the kitchen and the doorway, making him promise to text her every day and call at least once a week, as though he were going to summer camp. He kind of was, but it was his job, and he probably shouldn’t be sad about kissing his mommy goodbye. But they hadn’t been apart for any length of time since Vivaan….
“You can just toss that in the back of the Bro Van,” Jake said, tearing Krish from his melancholy thoughts.
Krish laughed as he remembered the night they named Jake’s inherited minivan. They’d been bonding over “bros before beaus” after Krish’s date dumped him. They christened the van with what was left of a bottle of peppermint schnapps, which had made them both sick as dogs by the end of the night. Served them right for attempting to go to a frat party. Neither of them fit in there, and they’d had more fun hanging out with the band than the frat brothers.
“I made a whole playlist of bands I want to see today.” Jake was a music enthusiast like Krish, but his tastes ran more toward the indie/folksy side of alternative rock. Krish liked his music harder, faster, and louder, but they did find common ground with bands like Hush and a few others. They could always agree on Asking Alexandria, Black Veil Brides, and Escape the Fate.
“Sure, man. Whatever.” Of course, if Krish were driving himself, he’d be blasting Hush’s new album. He’d been listening nonstop to every breath Silas took between lyrics. He knew the words by heart and would likely start teaching himself the guitar parts when he got home from the tour. He was going to miss his guitar.
Krish looked up to find that Jake was staring at him.
“What?”
“What? I’m just shocked. You never let me have control of the tunes. You feeling okay?”
Krish barked out a laugh. “Yeah, sure. Just anxious, a little.”
They climbed into the Bro Van and buckled up for safety. Before he started the engine, Jake grinned. “Are you actually going to talk to him this time?”
Krish had come close to meeting Silas once before. He’d been at a show in LA with Jake and they’d gone to the afterparty at a nearby club. He’d watched Silas from afar as he danced with everyone, took off his shirt, did several rounds of shots, and led the bar in a metalcore rendition of “Happy Birthday” to Gavin. Back then it had been enough to watch. Now he wanted a chance to see if his fantasy could be a reality.
Krish focused his eyes on the dashboard. “I don’t know, man. What if he’s, like, disappointed? Or what if he hates me because of what I’ve written about the band? I probably won’t even get to talk to him.”
“Well, I’ve taken steps to ensure that you do. First,” he said, pulling out a folded-up piece of paper, “I got us passes to Brains’s workshop. Silas may or may not be there, but it’s a start. Second, I texted my brother that I was coming—”
“Did you tell him about me?”
“Calm down. No, I didn’t. I know you want to keep your Guru secret. Geez, Krish, what’s gotten into you?”
Krish rubbed his hands on his cargo shorts. “I’m just nervous.”
Jake put a hand on his shoulder. “Look. I’ve never met him, but he seems like a cool guy. Maybe he’ll be a total dweeb in person and you’ll finally get over your crush.”
Krish shot him a look of complete disbelief.
Jake sighed. “Yeah. I know. Impossible.”
They pulled off the freeway exit near the festival grounds, and Krish’s heart pounded out of control. It was now or never.
“Look, it’s not like he’s going to know it’s you, right?”
He’s right. I can just be Krish, and he won’t know the truth.
“You won’t tell Jordan, will you?”
Jake waved off his concerns. “I won’t tell him. He’s got a big mouth. But have you come up with a cover story?”
“Yeah. When I spoke to Kevin Lyman’s personal assistant, Chantal, she suggested I just tell people I’m Krish the intern, and that I report to her. She’ll give me some tasks to do so I look legit, but I’m on my own the rest of the time.”
“But won’t they figure it out when your blogs are published?”
Krish shrugged. “My blogs are going to be my general impressions of the tour. I won’t be doing official interviews or anything, and if I decide to write anything specific, I’ll set them up after the tour and notify the people involved. As for using the Guru if I get hired at Alt-Scene permanently, they said we could discuss that. I’m not sure I want to bring that part of me along on the next phase of my journey. A lot of what I wrote was really personal. I want to write for Alt-Scene, but down the road? Sky’s the limit. If Krishnan Guruvayoor becomes synonymous with the Guru? I’m not sure that’s the best move.”
Jake nodded. “I see. But will it be the best move with Silas Franklin? Ohmygod, he’s fucking beautiful, Krish.”
Krish barked out a laugh. “I can’t believe I might actually meet him… talk to him.” But Krish was torn. Part of the reason he was attracted to Silas was how much they had in common, how much he thought Silas might get him. If he got to know him, how could he continue to write about Hush? It would be a conflict of interest.
Being a blogger was much different from being a journalist, something he was still getting used to. He wondered if he had the skill to actually take himself out of the equation the way traditional journalists needed to. He’d always seen himself as more like his hero, Jon Krakauer. Reading Into the Wild as a high schooler had inspired him to write about the things he was passionate about. Krakauer took his own life experiences and commingled them with important events. He did intensive research and wrote in a metacognitive style that really appealed to Krish. That was the approach he’d taken with his blog, and it had been successful. Could he wear a different hat this summer?
Without being too stalker-ish, Krish had read quite a lot about Silas, who loved to give interviews and had been incredibly open with the press about his band, their music, and their shenanigans… until Gavin died. The press had been brutal in their coverage, claiming everything from drugs to undiagnosed mental illness, even horrific statements about Gavin being gay as the reason for all his troubles. Krish’s heart went out to Silas and the band. They didn’t deserve that kind of shit. Alt-Scene had stuck to the facts, and that was one of the main reasons Krish wanted to write for them.
But given what he’d seen and read, Krish couldn’t know how all of those sound bites would play out in person. He had a hunch they’d get along famously, but he had no way of knowing until he actually got up the courage to strike up a conversation.
“It’ll be fine, Krish. I promise,” Jake said as though he overheard Krish’s internal monologue.
“I hope you’re right.”
IT WAS not fine. Krish’s stomach was so off by the time they got through the lines to get in that he ran for the first bathroom, just in case. Thankfully the restroom trip wasn’t necessary, and he didn’t embarrass himself. Jake had texted Jordan to connect with him, and they agreed to a meeting place. Krish had an appointment to meet Lyman’s assistant at 11:15 a.m. to get his credentials, and then he would meet up with his bus mates to drop off his things. He and Jake would hang out, and then he was on duty. His task? Take in all aspects of the tour, share posts online, and then share his impressions and thoughts with the Alt-Scene assistant editor, Monique. If she liked what she saw, his work would potentially become a feature piece for Alt-Scene. If they liked it, the permanent job was his. The Guru would still post periodically, but Krish Guruvayoor would be the journalist. It could work. In a perfect world.
Krish went to the main security office. He showed them the email from Kevin Lyman’s assistant, Chantal Jackson, and they let him in. One of the security guards walked him back to the makeshift office for the tour staff and attempted small talk along the way that Krish was too nervous to recall. Then he left Krish outside the door to the trailer.
He knocked and heard someone yell for him to come in. Inside the trailer were several desks occupied by people chatting on walkie talkies and cell phones. He stood for several moments until a young woman hung up and looked in his direction.
“Are you Krish?”
He smiled and stepped forward, trying not to knock things off the surfaces with his duffel bag. As he approached, he stuck out his hand to shake.
“Chantal?”
“In the flesh. Nice to meet you. Is that all you brought?”
He looked down at his bag. “Well, your email said—”
“Yes!” Chantal pulled her fist down in victory. “Someone finally listened. Hey, we had a little bit of a snafu this morning. Do you mind if I just take you over to the bus? You can drop off your stuff, and then we can meet tomorrow? You can just hang out and take it all in today.”
“Yeah, sure. I don’t want to be in your way.”
She waved a hand at him and scrunched up her nose. “Not even. I just have to deal with this mess. I’ll have more time and you’ll have more of my focus later on. Cool? Cool. Oh, here you go.”
Chantal held up a lanyard with a badge on it.
Office Intern
All Access
Krish reached for it with shaky hands, grasped it reverently, and gazed at it for a long moment, until he realized he was being a dork.
“Your first time with an all-access pass?”
His cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. “Yeah. I’ve been to a lot of shows, and I’ve met some bands, but this is… different.”
Chantal grabbed a sweater from the back of her chair and gestured for him to follow her. “Sweet. You’re about to have quite an adventure. You’re actually going to be staying in the bus with the office staff and two photographers. We could have put you with a band or a crew, but we thought you’d be more comfortable with us, especially if you’re trying to work. It’ll be easier to keep up the intern story.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate your help.”
She led him through the venue and out to an adjacent parking lot. Rows of buses greeted them, and he wondered how he’d be able to find the right one—
“You won’t lose us, that’s for sure.”
He laughed when she pointed out the black bus with the pink fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror, the row of solar dancing creatures on the dashboard, and the full-size skeleton wearing a bus driver’s hat in the driver’s seat.
“That’s Clarence. He’s our mascot. He tends to end up in a lot of post-show party pictures.”
She led him to the bus and knocked on the door with three short raps, a pause, and then two more.
“Secret knock?”
She laughed. “Just a warning. Hate to catch anyone with their pants down.” She winked and opened the door. “On this bus, besides yours truly, are Margeaux and Timmy. They both work in the management office with me. Then we also have Casey and Vinh, the photographers. Our driver is Butch, and we clean up after ourselves. You can have the top bunk on the left side, and there are cabinets in the back for your things. Did I mention we clean up after ourselves?”
Krish chuckled. “Loud and clear.”
“All right. I’m going to leave you here. You can get yourself back inside? With that badge you can go anywhere, although I wouldn’t go wandering around the buses or where the bands are setting up, at least not without talking to band management.”
“Understood,” Krish said, looking around. The bus was a utilitarian older model but neat and clean. Taped all over the place were pictures that featured all the different bands Krish knew were on the tour. There were neatly marked piles of food on the counter. Somebody was obviously a fan of label makers, because all the cabinets, drawers, and areas of the counter were marked. An empty spot even had his name.
“Lunch and dinner are catered, and we grab our own breakfasts. It doesn’t look like you brought much?”
He shook his head. “Kinda didn’t think about much more than protein bars.”
Chantal looked him up and down. “I can see that. Don’t worry. Butch can stop at a Target on our way to the next date, and we can run in and grab some supplies.”
“That would be great.”
Chantal was tall, maybe five-foot-nine, with natural hair pulled back into two puffs, and a bright smile. She wore a septum piercing, dangly silver earrings, a white Warped T-shirt, and green camo leggings. Krish didn’t think she was much older than him, but it was difficult to tell. She carried herself with confidence, yet she seemed approachable. Krish hoped she’d be a good resource and potentially even a friend.
“It’s good to have you, Krish. Sorry to rush out. Here, give me your phone. I’ll add my number in case you need anything.”
Krish handed her his phone, and she punched in her number.
“Have fun, be safe, and I’ll see you tonight?” She waved as she headed toward the door.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
And with the click of the door, he was alone.
The job had been a dream come true… until now. Now it was reality. Could he even do it? Could he deliver?
Relax. You’re here to watch the bands. Get lost in the music. Stop freaking out. You were born to write. Stop whining.
It was too late for whining. It was time to get to work.
HE MANAGED to make his way alone back inside the venue and found Jake talking to Jordan near the fenced-off area next to the lot. He saw them hugging and laughing. Krish hung back, his stomach still uneasy.
“Krish!”
Jake waved him over. He stood with his arm around his brother, who was just the slightest bit shorter than him. Jordan wore ripped black pants that hugged his slim legs all the way down to his black motorcycle boots, a Misfits T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and a denim vest with the sleeves cut off as well—typical metalcore dress code. His long dark hair hung below his shoulders and covered one eye. Tattoos curved up the opposite side of his neck and around his face. The brothers couldn’t look any more unrelated… until they smiled. Their smiles were identical.
“Krish, meet Jordan.”
Jordan stuck out a tattooed hand. Krish wiped his sweaty palm off on his shorts and accepted it.
“Good to meet you,” Jordan said, holding on to his hand a little longer.
“Krish is a friend from college.”
Jordan smirked. “Like, your special friend?”
Jake punched him in the arm.
“Ow, fucker,” Jordan said, and the two grown-ass manchildren began duking it out. Krish was too shocked to say anything until they started to get looks from security.
“Guys,” he stage-whispered.
Jordan threw his arm around Jake in a headlock. “Sorry, man. I don’t get to see my brother enough.” He showed his affection by scrubbing his knuckles over Jake’s carefully coiffed hair while Jake struggled to get free. The security guard, a big burly black dude, frowned, yelled at them to knock it off, and then turned to watch the beer booth.
When Krish looked back at the brothers, they were laughing and hugging each other again. His breath hitched in his chest. Something was missing. Had he lost something? He had his bag, his phone and wallet…. He was missing Vivaan. Watching the Barrett brothers felt like a punch to the chest, like all the air had been knocked out of him. He recovered quickly, but it hurt.
“You guys are a mess,” Krish laughed, relieved that nothing worse had happened.
“Yeah, your guyliner is smudged,” Jake said to Jordan. He licked his thumb and said, “Here, let me get it.”
Jordan slapped his hand away so hard the sound echoed off the building next to them and caught the security guard’s attention again.
“You guys better get out of here before they throw your asses out,” Jordan said, snickering and fingering his band badge. “I’ll try to get you a couple of these for after the show. You’re sticking around, right? I want to get wasted with my little brother. It’s been too long.”
Jake pushed him into the fence as he laughed, and Jordan flipped him off. “Krish doesn’t need one. He’s working on the tour.”
Jordan squinted at his badge and smirked. “Intern, huh? Cool.”
“I’ll see you later,” Jake said.
Jordan pointed both hands at them in fake guns, shooting the triggers as he winked. He laughed and waved as he turned toward the rows of tour buses and tents.
Krish exhaled harshly.
“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jake said laughing.
“Yeah. Just… maybe a little overwhelmed?”
Jake grew serious for a minute and placed a hand on his arm. “You going to be okay? This is big for you.”
Krish exhaled and shook his head. “Yeah. Wow. Crazy. But the woman who showed me the bus was cool, and I’ll be staying with people who are there working, so hopefully….”
Yeah, he was going to be fine. He’d just have to keep telling himself that.
“Come on, let’s go get some food,” Jake said. “The gates are opening in a few minutes, and I’m already starving. I wonder what type of vegetarian items they’ll have?”
Krish rolled his eyes at Jake. “Come on, man. I need some protein or I’m going to keel over.”
Jake couldn’t accept the fact that Krish wasn’t a vegetarian. Jake had been a stalwart PETA supporter all through college and continued to be that one friend who constantly lectured his friends on their lifestyle choices. Luckily, he had enough redeeming qualities to make up for it.
They ended up with rice bowls from a food truck—Krish’s with teriyaki chicken and Jake’s with tofu and veggies. Both came away satisfied and ready to face the day.
“Our workshop with Brains isn’t until three, so we actually have time to go see some bands first. Hush plays after Brains’s workshop.”
Krish pulled out the schedule they’d picked up from the front gates and saw that, yes, Hush was on the main stage in the early evening. Warped was an unusual festival, a bit more egalitarian. Though bands were slated on stages based on their album sales and status, headliners played throughout the day, starting as soon as the gates opened, and the schedule changed from stop to stop.
Krish and Jake had agreed on most of the bands they wanted to see, but there were a couple of indie bands Krish had no interest in seeing, and Jake certainly wasn’t up for the more metal acts, like The Amity Affliction and Motionless in White, so they split up for a while. Krish was content wandering the festival grounds alone and enjoying the bands whose music made his spirits soar.
The music brought such vivid memories of Vivaan it was almost as though he were standing next to Krish. Music had been the brothers’ common language. Vivaan taught Krish all he knew and took him to shows as soon as their mother agreed they were old enough to go alone. Warped had been their favorite, and standing at the rear of the crowd watching the new generation of Warped fans screaming and ready to mosh reminded Krish of how it had felt all those years ago with his brother.
As The Amity Affliction ripped into their song “Pittsburgh,” Krish was taken back to the last show he and Vivaan went to before Viv was sent overseas. He ignored the tear that slipped down his cheek and recalled how he played the song over and over during his initial grieving period. His blog had just begun to take off, and many of his readers related to his posts about losing his brother and continued to follow him over the years despite what direction he took the blog. It was always music, but he wrote about grief, he wrote about being an LGBTQ man who happened to be a person of color, and he wrote about the responsibility all Americans had to preserve the rights of others.
And he wanted to keep writing. This summer he needed to produce his best writing yet to prove he was ready for the job. That should have been enough to ground him. But as the afternoon crept closer to Brains’s workshop, Krish became even more anxious about the possibility of meeting Silas than he was about the job. At least with the job he knew what to expect. The magazine liked his writing and appreciated his viewpoint and perspective. In contrast, he had no clue how Silas felt about what he wrote.
Jake found him lingering around the TWLOHA tent dictating a blog post. He held up a finger to Jake so he could finish his thought.
“I’ve always been moved by To Write Love On Her Arms, an organization dedicated to sharing alternatives to self-harm for teens. I’ve known too many kids, in high school and in college, who were in so much pain that they saw no other alternative than to cut, burn, or scar themselves. TWLOHA is one of many organizations doing important work here on Warped Tour, and I’m grateful for that, but it also leads me to moments of sheer rage about the lack of available resources, even for kids with insurance. Nonprofits are wonderful and they do terrific work, but just imagine if the outrageous amounts people pay for healthcare actually took care of them? Or if our government took the needs of those with mental health issues seriously? Imagine a world where there wasn’t so much pain.” He stopped the recording. “Ugh, that’s a topic I get too angry about.”
“Yeah, but just think of what you’ll be able to do when you join Alt-Scene. You could hopefully publish articles in their social justice department.”
Krish loved Jake’s optimism. “If and when they hire me.”
“Whatever. Hey, you ready for this?” Jake held up their passes and wiggled his eyebrows.
Krish swallowed hard. “Sure. Let me just grab some water, okay?”
“Already got us bottles. No more stalling. It’s time for you to meet your man.”
Krish elbowed him as they walked toward the tent where they’d meet up with their group and be led to Billy “Brains” Brennan’s workshop on drum techniques. No big deal.
Krish didn’t play drums, but he knew enough about music to be in awe of all that Brains had accomplished, not only with Hush but with his previous band. He also had equipment deals with companies like Zildjian and Ludwig. Krish had watched his YouTube videos and admired how Brains applied music theory and even different philosophies to metal. It was easy to see where his nickname came from. Krish’s double major in music and journalism had given him an excellent background for his future, but self-taught people like Brains inspired him.
Krish and Jake lined up with the other ten people who’d bought tickets for Brains’s workshop and they gaped at the long lines for Andy Biersack’s and Roxanne’s workshops going on at the same time. Krish had been to one of Roxanne’s workshops before, and he wrote up a nice piece about how the lead singer of Just Like Love was able to assert her feminism into her music and her career in a male-dominated industry. Being a female lead of an all-male band meant she’d often had to work harder than her male counterparts, but she held no grudges and was determined to be a positive influence in her genre.
The guide from TEI, the organization who sponsored the workshop, led them back through the gates and over to a row of tents where Brains was waiting for them behind a scaled-down drum kit. Brains wore a black muscle shirt that fit his slim frame snugly and a pair of roomy black board shorts. His black hair was styled into a faux hawk with glittery product in it, and he’d done his makeup dramatically, with expert-level eyes, lips, and brows. He was playing lightly and concentrating on what he was doing, so he was almost startled when he looked up and saw his pupils sitting on the tarp in front of him.
“Oh, hey,” he said, smiling. “I’m Billy. Welcome to my drumming-technique workshop. How many of you guys play?”
Four teenaged boys in front of Krish and Jake raised their hands along with a sole young woman who could have been anywhere from late teens to early twenties. An older kid—maybe early twenties—sat behind Krish, and Jake and held up a single finger as though he didn’t want any attention called to himself. Jake had fixed his eyes on the guy’s legs, which were heavily tattooed and on display in a pair of cargo shorts, and Krish had to elbow him to get his attention back on Brains.
“Cool. Okay. I’ve been told I tend to talk fast. I’m not really sure why they asked me back again, but here we are. Um. Okay. So—”
Brains talked about foot placement on the pedals and how he preferred thicker sticks that were double butted, which got a lot of giggles from a group of girls off to Krish’s right. They were obviously just there to ogle Brains. Then one of the huge groups walked by, chatting excitedly about meeting Andy, and Brains stopped speaking until they were past.
“Wow,” Brains finally said. “That guy sure pulls them in. Thanks for not leaving me sitting here alone. I know I’m not as cool as Andy—”
The kids in the front row cut him off.
“I love your makeup, Brains,” one young lady said.
Brains blushed. “Thank you.”
“You should do a tutorial video,” her friend said.
“You think? Wow.”
“Yeah. My friend has a whole wall of pictures of your different looks.”
Brains blinked and appeared to be truly touched. The girls asked him what products he used, and the conversation derailed a bit more before he held up a hand.
“Thank you, guys. Seriously. I know you could have picked Andy—”
They begged him to keep talking, saying Andy’s workshop was just a bunch of girls staring at him.
“And dudes,” the young woman said, rolling her eyes. “I know just as many dudes who would love to get with Andy, so….”
Brains looked between them and shrugged. “Anyway, so what I was saying—”
Another large group came by on their way to sit in front of Roxanne. Her tent was between Brains’s and Andy’s, and her group was large but not quite as giggly.
“Really, guys. Thank you for not leaving me alone with them.”
The group laughed as Brains jumped back into his talk, demonstrating things as he went. He talked about the placement he used for his toms to achieve his signature sound and why he preferred a Ludwig kit and how he tended to go through a lot of drum heads because of the power he used. The young woman asked him a couple of questions about his training, and the talk veered off into influences, of which Brains cited a wide variety, from Neil Peart to Ginger Baker and then Joey Jordison to Dave Grohl.
Krish paid as close attention as he could with the noise coming from the tents next door. He brought out his phone a couple of times to jot down notes he would include in his blog and tried not to be disrespectful. Jake elbowed him at one point, so he showed him what he was doing, and Jake smiled.
“Are there any particular songs you guys want me to break down for you?” Brains asked after a bit.
The guy behind Krish raised his hand.
“Yeah?”
He cleared his throat. “Could you show how you make the transitions on ‘Faceless’?”
Brains’s face lit up a bit, and he launched into a very technical discussion that Krish was soon lost in. He watched Brains play some very complicated parts without his usual power, but even so, some of the folks from the other group looked over wide-eyed.
“And you can both go fuck yourselves,” Brains said, and Krish nearly jumped out of his skin. Who was he talking to?
The group all turned their heads to see Silas and Los standing behind them and doing a two-man wave. Silas laughed and elbowed Los. “Sorry, Mr. Brains. We didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
Silas may have sounded contrite, but he appeared to be full of mischief. Krish couldn’t look away. That smile was even more powerful up close. Not because it was a handsome smile, but because it seemed to hover on that line between sweet and unhinged. Krish had always loved watching Silas’s performances, both live and on their music videos, for that very reason. Silas would start out with his eyes flashing and a grin on his face that would eventually morph into something like an insane person’s expression. On anyone else it would have been comical, but on Silas it let Krish and everyone else know that he wasn’t just a pretty face or a talented singer, he was a deep feeler and thinker and didn’t take shit from anyone. His smile embodied all the things Krish loved about him.
Well, love might be a strong word. And how silly to be in love with a rock star who’d never even notice you? Except for the blog. The blog might catch his attention, but Krish wasn’t sure that would be a good thing. And he was still staring. Brains had moved forward with his discussion, and everyone else had turned around except Krish. And now Silas was smiling at him.
Krish turned around in a panic. He’d been caught. Jake eyed him and failed to keep his laughter quiet.
“Busted,” Jake whispered.
Krish couldn’t respond and was afraid if he elbowed him to shut up he’d call even more attention to himself.
Maybe Silas hadn’t noticed just how long he’d been staring. Krish looked toward Roxanne’s group and tried to be sly as he peered over his shoulder.
Silas was still smiling at him, and Krish couldn’t tear his eyes away. The guy was stunning. He’d shaved his head recently, and the stubble was his natural dark color rather than the multicolored hues he’d had for a few years. He already had his stage makeup on, it seemed, as his bluish-green eyes were lined in black and he wore black lipstick. He’d added a nose ring to his piercings since the last time Krish had seen pictures of him, and the gauges in his ears were wider than he remembered, about the size of nickels now. His wiry frame was drenched in black from his tight black pants to the black Judas Priest shirt he wore with the sleeves cut way low so his muscular torso could be seen beneath. He was stunning. His porcelain skin, marked heavily with colorful tattoos from the neck down, was smooth and hairless, and his teeth were so white they nearly blinded Krish. Because he was still smiling at Krish.
Krish’s lips turned up at the corners out of embarrassment, but also excitement. Silas was here. And he’d noticed him.
“And that’s all I’ve got. Anyone have any other questions?”
The kids in the front row began to clap, and Brains stood up and flipped off his bandmates, who cheered the loudest.
“You’re our hero,” Los shouted in a voice cracking like a pubescent teen.
“You know, someday they’re going to ask you to do one of these talks, and I’m going to heckle the crap out of you.”
The band’s manager appeared at his side and gave him a hug.
“Everyone meet Jessica, our mom—ouch!”
“I’m not old enough or crazy enough to be your mom,” she said as she pinched his side. “Okay, everyone, if you’ll all turn around and get together, we’re going to take a group picture. And then you can line up if you want individual pictures with Brains.”
Krish allowed Jake to lead him to where they needed to be for the pictures, because he was still kind of stunned and had to concentrate hard on not giving himself whiplash trying to see where Silas went.
“Everyone, on the count of three, say ‘Brains.’ Here we go. One… two….”
A body crashed into Krish from behind.
“Three.”
“Brains,” Silas growled like a zombie as he shoved his face between Krish’s and Jake’s. For a smaller guy, he sure was strong. Krish had to steady himself so they didn’t all fall forward under Silas’s weight. Krish turned to look down at Silas and got an up-close-and-personal view of his gorgeous smile. Silas winked at him and then ran over to jump on Los’s back.
As the group moved into a single line to take pictures with Brains, Krish hung back. Silas and Los took turns photobombing each of the individual pictures, each trying to outdo each other while Brains tried to be professional… well, as professional as he could be with Silas’s tongue in his ear.
His long, pierced tongue.
Krish couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. It was good to see them having so much fun together after all the hardships they’d been through.
When it was Jake’s turn, Los and Silas crowded each side of him, and a shout from behind them caused their heads to turn.
“Quit mauling my brother, you pervs.”
This led to a bunch of handshakes and more fighting between Jordan and Jake. Silas looked in Krish’s direction and then whispered something to Jake.
The moment of truth. Could Jake play this off?
“Hey, didn’t you want a picture with them?”
Jessica, the tour manager, stood next to Krish, her eyebrows raised in expectation.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.” That was the last thing he needed. More pictures circulating around social media. He’d kept the Guru anonymous. He just had to trust that Jake would keep his secret.
“So that’s Jordan’s brother, huh? He’s so—”
“Square? Yeah.”
Jessica laughed, clapped a hand over her mouth, and lifted it to say, “He really is. I can’t believe they’re brothers. Does he even like metal?”
“Some. He likes Hush. But mostly he came to see The Maine.”
Jessica snorted. “I can’t say anything. They’re cute. So, who were you looking forward to seeing?”
Silas. And more Silas. And Silas.
“Kind of everything, I guess. These guys. The Amity Affliction and Motionless in White. It sucks this is the last year.”
Jessica sighed. “Yeah. We’ll just have to make something of our own. The guys have made some good connections and some of the other managers and I have been talking. We’ve got some ideas.”
Krish perked up. That would be something else. It wouldn’t be the same as Warped. Nothing ever could compare to the mix of music genres and personalities and the causes represented there, but on a smaller scale? Perhaps. Before he could actually contemplate the awesomeness that would be a metalcore festival, Jake gestured for Krish to come over. To join him. With Hush.
Jessica glanced down at his badge. “Intern, huh?”
He looked as well, forgetting he had it already. “Yeah. I’m working in the tour office with Chantal.”
“That’s cool. She’s awesome.” Jessica’s attention strayed back to the spectacle in front of them. “Oh hey, your friend is calling you.” Jessica grabbed Krish’s arm and led him over to where the band stood with Jake. He hoped it didn’t look as though he was dragging his feet or reluctant. He just couldn’t get his body to move in a normal fashion. He felt like Edward Scissorhands—totally out of his element and awkward.
“Guys, this is Krish. Krish, this is the guys.” Jake smiled reassuringly at him and put an arm around him. “He’s a writer.”
Krish wanted to smack Jake. A writer? Why not just out him? Instead he gave a closed-lipped grin and waited for their response.
The band looked at each other as though there was some inside joke he was missing. Silas was the first to reach out a hand.
“Welcome to Warped, Krish.”