As things with Matt returned to normal, my thoughts returned to showcasing myself this tour. There had to be a way to do it. If Matt wouldn’t give me a chance to play lead guitar, then maybe Kellan would let me be front man. Not for all the songs, but maybe one. Or two. One of the crappier ones that no one cared about.
Since we rode on the same bus together, I had plenty of time to talk to him about it. “Come on, Kell, I know the songs better than you do, and my voice is spectacular. The crowd will love it!”
He looked up from playing with Ryder on his lap. Ryder had a few teeth coming in, and the front of his blue D-Bags romper was soaked in saliva. He was all smiles though; my nephew was rarely unhappy. While Ryder grabbed for a set of plastic keys in Kellan’s hand, Kellan shook his head. “No, Griffin. I already said that.”
Irritation spread up my spine as the oft-repeated answer to my every question burned in my ears. I was so tired of people telling me no. “Yeah…I heard you. I just don’t think it’s right.”
Kellan’s attention had drifted down to his son yanking on the keys in his hand, but he lifted his eyes again after my comment. “You don’t think it’s right that I sing the songs? That I wrote? I’m the lead singer, Griffin. It’s my job.”
I rolled my eyes. “You guys are so hung up on labels. I’m the lead singer. I’m the lead guitarist. Wah, wah, wah. Would it kill any of you to step outside of the box?”
“We’ve got a good thing going, Griffin. Now isn’t the time to shake things up.”
I leaned forward in my seat. “Now is the perfect time, Kellan. Fans don’t want us to stay stagnant and predictable. They want fresh, they want new, they want to be knocked off their feet. Frankly…they want me.”
Kellan cracked a smile as I relaxed back in my chair again. “They want you? Really?”
Nodding, I jerked my thumb toward the back of the bus, where Anna and Gibson were taking a nap. “That little gallery fiasco went viral, and the fans ate it up. They want more shit like that. They want more me. I’m telling you, if you gave me just a little bit of freedom during the show, you wouldn’t regret it.”
Kellan sighed and looked over at Kiera. She had an expression of horror on her face, but she shrugged, like she didn’t have an answer for him. Jesus. It wasn’t like I was asking to raise their kid for them. It was one fucking song. Kellan looked back at me, his expression serious. “Maybe we can find something fun for you to do. Maybe a skit or…something.”
A skit? Well, acting wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but I suppose it was a start. “Sure. Great. Can we start tonight?”
A strange look passed over Kellan’s face before he answered. “I have to talk to Matt and Evan first, see what they say. I’ll let you know.”
“Awesome!” I bolted out of my seat so I could go tell Anna the good news—they were finally giving me a chance. Maybe not in my preferred form, but I’d take any opportunity to strut my stuff. I wondered what I should do for my skit as I opened the door to the back bedroom where my wife was resting. Maybe I could re-create the moment from the gallery. Hand Solo here. I’m here to rescue…well, myself. I’ll be with you in a minute. Ha! Maybe I should do stand-up instead.
“Guess what, Anna!”
Her curled form stirred a little, and a vague moan escaped her, but that was it. She had Gibson nestled in her arms, and my baby girl looked like an angel lying there with her golden hair fanned out around her. So far she was having a blast on tour. She loved meeting people, and there was always someone new to see. The only part she wasn’t crazy about was the long bus rides between gigs. The back and forth rocking of the bus made her carsick. Anna too. She said it was like being on a boat, and she could still feel the swaying motion even when she wasn’t on the bus. I wished there was something I could do to help Anna feel better, but other than get her drunk, which wasn’t an option at the moment, I was clueless.
When Anna didn’t wake up, I sat on the edge of the mattress and debated if I should disturb her or let her sleep. She did look wiped. My excitement won out though, and I rocked her shoulder to wake her up. “Guess what, babe?”
“We’re there?” she croaked. Turning her head, she peeked up at me. “Are we stopping soon?” She was a little green, and her face was creased from where she’d been resting. There was even some dried drool in the corner of her mouth. She was still superhot though.
“I don’t know where the hell we are…but Kellan is going to give me the stage tonight! I’m going to do a skit, or some shit like that.”
Anna slowly sat up on her elbow. She studied my face with an eyebrow raised. “A skit? During a concert? That’s…interesting.”
I shrugged, then laughed. The adrenaline was making me goofy. “Yeah, it’s not exactly what I was hoping for, but it’s something, and something is better than nothing.”
Anna nodded, then held a hand to her stomach, like she was about to be sick. “Sounds good. Wake me when we’re there.”
She fell back to the bed and my eyes devoured her curves. I was way too jacked up to just go sit down with Kellan and Kiera, twiddling my thumbs. I needed action, something to keep me entertained. And Anna was the best form of entertainment that I knew of. I knew she felt like shit at the moment, but maybe a little fun time would make us both feel better? It had worked a time or two before. “Hey…think you and me can go to the bathroom and make a little magic? I’m too stoked. I need to burn off some energy.”
“Can’t. Trying not to be sick,” she murmured.
“Ah, come on. We’ll be in the bathroom, so if you do upchuck, you’ll be right there…and remember that one time when you were drunk and you thought you were gonna throw up, but we fucked and you felt so much better afterwards. I might just be the cure you need, babe.”
Her eyes flashed open; they were a fiery shade of deep green that seemed to glow with heat, and not the good kind. Before she could pierce me with the laser beams she was charging, I held my hands up. “How about I go, and you stay here and sleep.”
The heat dissipated and her eyes fluttered closed. “M’kay.” Whew. That was close.
I ended up pacing the bus for an hour. By the look on Kiera’s face, she wasn’t thrilled about my constant movement. Needing something to do, I grabbed Ryder from her and told her I’d keep him occupied so she could have some alone time with Kellan. She seemed uncertain about letting me babysit until Kellan convinced her that I wouldn’t break their baby. As if. I rocked with kids.
While his parents presumably got freaky, I bounced the little bundle of energy up and down the aisle, all the while telling him stories that Gibson often requested from me—stories of knights and dragons, and princesses who kicked ass. Ryder yawned, and his bright blue eyes eventually drooped closed; he was asleep five seconds later. See, Kiera, nothing to worry about. Mini-Bag loves me.
When we got to the venue, Kellan disappeared to go chat with the other guys about tonight, I assumed. I wanted to go with him, to plead my case and maybe throw around some ideas, but Gibson was being all needy and clingy, probably because I’d spent so much time with Ryder and she hated me paying attention to another kid. She was in for quite a shock when her baby brother or sister was born. But it was clear she needed me, so I stayed on the bus with her and Anna.
“So, what do you think you’ll do tonight?” Anna asked me. She looked a lot better now that the bus had stopped moving.
“I don’t know…what do you think I should do?” I’d been running over ideas in my head, but all I could come up with was penis puppetry, and I had a feeling the guys wouldn’t be cool with that.
Anna shrugged. “Show off your talent.” Thinking about what I’d been debating doing onstage made me snort. With an amused smile, Anna amended with “Your nonsexual talent.”
Nodding, I thought about what my talents were. Besides being devilishly handsome and a stallion in the bedroom, I was, in my humble opinion, a master rapper. In fact, I knew every lyric to every Vanilla Ice song. And not just his megahits, the B-sid
e stuff too. Nobody could do Mr. Ice better than me. “That’s it. That’s what I’ll do!”
Anna blinked. “What’s it?”
Kissing her forehead, I handed Gibson to her. “I gotta find the guys before the show starts. I’m gonna need background music.”
“For what? What’s your plan?” she asked again.
“You’ll see,” I said, crooking a smile.
Anna rose to her feet. Gibson reached for me, but I couldn’t take her again. There was too much to do! “Wait,” Anna said, placing her hand on my arm. “Let’s take a moment and talk about your idea. You know, make sure you’ve got something really great so the guys will be blown away. While I was napping, I was thinking of some things that might—”
Grinning ear to ear, I cut her off with a kiss to her cheek. “I’m sure your ideas are cool, but what I’ve got planned will blow their skulls into a thousand freakin’ pieces!” Anna said my name again, but I was too excited to stop and explain it all to her now. I’d tell her when it was a done deal.
There were people everywhere when I hopped off the bus—security, people who worked for the venue, and members of the other bands. I didn’t see any D-Bags though. Fans behind a chain-link fence cheered when they spotted me. A few of them screamed, “I love you, Kellan!” I almost stopped and told them I wasn’t Kellan, but I didn’t have time. The show was starting in a couple hours.
Justin was the first person I spotted when I stepped inside the building. He was talking to the lead singer of Holeshot, Deacon. They were talking about Kate, from what I could tell. They were midconversation, but I smoothly interjected with “Hey, you seen Kellan?”
Justin turned my way, his lips in a frown. He had a tattoo across his collarbone that I thought was cool, but the script was so elaborate, I could never read it. Knowing Justin, it was something lyrical and poetic. If it were me, it would say something like Sit Here, with arrows pointing up. Oh man…I should totally do that.
“Nah, I haven’t see him, but the meet and greet is starting soon, so he’s probably talking to the radio people.”
That made sense. The local radio stations always had contests that allowed people backstage access, where they were free to talk to us and take pictures. It used to be all formal and shit when Sienna Sexton was running the show, but now people just kind of meandered backstage like they were checking out some weird zoo for rock stars. And over there on your left is the mythical one-eyed beast of Cockistan. Legend has it, the creature only comes out when properly aroused. Let’s see if we can awaken it, shall we?
“Oh, okay.” I patted Justin on the shoulder and started to leave, but he stopped me with a question.
“Hey, you’re friends with Kate, right?”
I shrugged. “Kind of. Why?”
Like a red stage light was being directed toward him, Justin’s face started shifting colors. “Uh, well, we’ve been together awhile now, and I was thinking of stepping things up. Maybe asking her to move in with me.”
Raising an eyebrow, I told him, “You want to ask her to move to L.A.? Don’t bother, she won’t. Her life is in Seattle, dude.” Giving him a sympathetic smile, I told him the hard news that as a friend I had no choice but to deliver. “You’re better off dumping her and scoring someone who lives in your town.” I snapped my fingers as an idea came to me. “Brooklyn Pierce, that chick with big knockers from that futuristic space show. She’s gotta live somewhere around there and she’s fucking hot. Dump Kate and date her. Problem solved.”
Justin looked dumbfounded as I smacked his arm and walked away. It might take him a minute, but eventually he’d see that I was right. Him and Kate weren’t meant to be, but him and Brooklyn…damn, she was smokin’. I couldn’t wait to double date with them. Lucky bastard.
When I found Kellan, he was waist-deep in contest winners. They were all around him, and Kellan was smiling as he shook hands, signed autographs, and answered questions. The fans were squealing, giggling, and in some cases, crying. Girls. Such a strange species.
Knowing they wouldn’t mind me manhandling them, I started elbowing my way through the crowd. Surprisingly though, they gave me dirty looks, like they didn’t know who I was or why I was intruding on their place in line. Weird. I’d expected to get groped along the way. Oh well.
“Let me through, I need to talk to Kellan,” I said, pushing past a trio of girls.
“Wait your turn, dude,” one of them replied. She was wearing a KELLAN KYLE IS MY ROCK GOD T-shirt, so I figured she was blind to the rest of us “rock gods.”
Narrowing my eyes, I told her, “I’m in the band, and I need to speak to Kellan…my bandmate.” Just saying it irritated me. Kellan fan or not, this chick should know me on sight.
She scoffed, like she thought I was blowing smoke out my ass. I was about to set her straight, about several things, when someone in front of her said, “No, no, he is in the band. Drummer, right?” she asked. The pigtails in her hair made her look four. Maybe that was why she didn’t know my instrument. She was still learning what all the different pieces were.
“Bass,” I muttered, shoving my way around them.
Kellan finally noticed the commotion and swung his head my way. It took some jostling, but I finally worked my way through the obsessed K. K. crew to get to him. He didn’t seem happy to see me. “Oh, hey, Griff. Here for the meet and greet? I thought I saw a couple girls wearing Griffin shirts heading down the hall. I bet you can catch up to them if you hurry.”
I was getting battered from behind by his overeager fans, but I ignored them and his comment. “What did the guys say about tonight? ’Cause I had this awesome idea—”
“Yeah, about that…” Kellan grabbed a pen from a fan and started signing a CD case. “I talked to the guys and they feel…well, we feel that tonight isn’t a good night. We need to sit down and plan something first…work it into the lineup. We’ve already got a set plan, you know?” He handed the case back to the fan, then looked up at me. Giving me a dismissive pat on the shoulder, he added, “Maybe tomorrow night, okay? We’ll talk later, when it’s not so crazy.” Grabbing another pen, he started signing something else.
My jaw dropped, and I lost my place in line as the Kellan fans pushed me back. Within minutes, I was on the outside of the circle looking in. Tomorrow? That sounded like a million hours from now. Why the hell couldn’t we just try something tonight? Why the hell couldn’t we wing it? Made no sense to me.
Just as I was debating it, a girl beside me handed me a Sharpie. “You’re with the band, right?”
Frowning, I grabbed the pen. “I am the band,” I told her. Looking confused, she glanced between Kellan and me. Sighing, I grabbed the glossy photo she had in her hand. It was of Kellan, but I signed it anyway—right across his face. The fan looked at the signature like she didn’t recognize it. She thanked me, but her look of confusion didn’t lessen. She had no clue who I was. What the fuck?
Behind me, a couple of girls started giggling. I turned around and they smiled at me with crimson faces. “Oh my God, it’s you. Hand Solo!”
I gave them a sly grin. Finally, someone who recognized me. “At your service,” I said, faking jacking off. I even ended the gesture with an explosion. They squealed and covered their eyes.
After they recovered, one of them stepped forward. She was tall and thin, and the D-Bags shirt she was wearing looked like it had been molded right onto her it was so tight. “You’ve got to sign my shirt,” she stated.
“Gladly.” Taking her pen, I scrawled my name across her chest. She laughed the entire time.
Evan and Matt wandered through the area and, leaving the girls to daydream about me, I cornered my bandmates and asked them about me performing tonight. Like they’d rehearsed it, they gave me the same answer as Kellan—Not tonight, maybe tomorrow. Between this denial and Matt’s absolute refusal to let me play lead, I was fuming by the time we went onstage. I supposed it wouldn’t hurt to wait a couple days, but still, I was ready for my moment—a moment t
hat had been denied me for far too long already.
For the first time in a long time, I really paid attention during the show. Kellan made the introductions, Kellan started the songs, Kellan spoke to the crowd between the songs. Every once in a while, he would throw a remark our way, but he was in control of the entire performance, and most of his attention was directed toward the fans, not his bandmates. He’d chat with them, ask them how they were doing, run down the aisle to say hello to the ones in the back. Every question he aimed their way was met with a resounding shriek of approval that made me roll my eyes in annoyance.
Nothing he was doing was all that special. I could ask the crowd if they were having fun. I could run up the aisle way to high-five strangers. I could sing the songs, gyrate my hips, and point at hot girls in the pit. Kellan wasn’t the be-all and end-all of this band. He was just one member. As I looked around the stadium, I began to wonder if the fans knew that. All the posters I could see were for him. I LOVE KELLAN. MARRY ME, KELLAN. WE ADORE YOU, KELLAN. KELLAN IS THE MAN. HAVE MY BABY, KELLAN. Kellan, Kellan, Kellan. I was sick of his name long before the concert ended.
And every night for the next two weeks was a lot like that night. All I heard from the guys when I asked them if I could have a piece of the performance pie was, Not tonight, maybe tomorrow. If we had an off day, they all avoided me like the plague. They claimed they were sightseeing or catching up on sleep, but I didn’t buy it. I knew when I was being blown off. All I could do was sit, stew, and complain to anyone who would listen to me.
“Don’t you think that’s ridiculous? I’m not asking for much, just ten minutes on the mic. Or five. I would be happy with five. A moment in the spotlight, that’s all I want.”
The girls I was talking to looked between themselves. Then they started simultaneously busting out questions that had nothing to do with what I had been talking about. “So, Griffin, you’re sharing a bus with Kellan? What’s it like? What’s he like? Is he tidy or messy? What does he do during his downtime? Is he really married, or was that just another rumor? I just can’t tell what’s real or not anymore.”