Trey managed to keep up now that he’d given up on his pick and stuck to riffs and shredding. Not their best performance, but the fans had a great time, and that’s all that mattered. During the wicked musical outro of “Twisted,” Sed let himself get caught up in the moment and dove into the crowd.
With their hands in the air, a group of about twenty fans caught Sed above their heads. Hand over hand they passed him around the crowd and eventually toward the stage. When he was within reach of the barrier fence, one of the security guards pulled him free of their clutches. He hadn’t crowd surfed in ages. He’d forgotten how fun it was. With the security guard’s help, Sed found his footing on the concrete floor and stood with his belly against the metal barrier fence facing the crowd. He thrust both hands in the air, allowing the first rows of the general admission pit to touch, grab, and hug him enthusiastically. He slapped high fives with dozens of fans, squeezing each hand before moving to the next.
The security guard kept trying to tug Sed away from the crowd by the back of his shirt. He was perfectly fine. He might have a few bruises to show for his brazen interactions with the crowd, but it was well worth the adrenaline rush served by their adulation and excitement.
Brian’s voice came over the speaker system. “Uh, Sed? The song is over.”
He honestly hadn’t noticed. “Get me a mic,” he said to the security guard.
A minute later, a mic was thrust into his hand. “How are we feeling tonight, Salt Lake? Are you having a good time?”
The nearby noise of the crowd came through the loud speaker. “You know, my throat has been bothering me all night and I’m feeling pretty lazy. Do any of you dudes know our song ‘Reformation’?”
The chorus of the song spread across the crowd as the majority of them started singing. Of course, everyone knew “Reformation.” It had topped the rock charts for over a month last winter.
“Maybe one of you can help me sing it up on stage.”
The entire barrier fence surged forward in their excitement to join him.
“Not just anyone. If you want on my stage, you have to audition first.” He turned his head to look at the band, who watched him warily. “Intro to ‘Reformation.’ Just until the end of that first scream.”
In his earpiece, Dave said, “What are you doing, Sed? This isn’t part of the show.”
Tonight it is, he thought. “You,” he said to the spike-haired guy directly in front of him. “You want to audition?”
“Fuck yeah!”
Sed signaled the band and they started the song. He held the mic to Spike’s mouth and he screamed the intro. Sed winced after about five seconds of the guy’s blood-curdling screech and pulled the mic away. “Cut. Cut. Cut.” The band stopped playing mid-note. “Dude, did you swallow a dying cat? What the f**k was that sound that just came out of your mouth?”
The guy laughed with no hard feelings.
“Next,” Sed said and moved to another audience member. He continued down the barrier, letting five or six guys try their voices, until he found a guy who could produce a sound that didn’t make him want to shove pencils through his eardrums. “That’s more like it. What’s your name?”
“Justin.”
“Justin, you’re hired.”
“Yes! Do I get paid?”
“What’s your going rate?”
He hesitated. “Can I get a kiss from your woman?”
“Next!” Sed called.
Justin grabbed his wrist. “Just kidding. Jeez!”
“Sed has no sense of humor as far as Jessica is concerned,” Brian said into a microphone.
Sed tilted his head reflectively and nodded. “You’re absolutely right, Brian. Next!”
Sed helped the next auditioner over the barrier. He didn’t sound half as good as that Justin jerk, but Sed wasn’t in the mood to tolerate bullshit about Jessica, even in jest. He and his helper, named Lance of all things, took the stage. The crowd absolutely loved Lance as he made a total ass of himself by singing like a tone deaf drunk at a karaoke bar. Trey stopped playing half way through the song, but not out of frustration. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t find his fret board.
At the end of the song, Sed shook hands with Lance. Lance gushed over his guitar hero, Master Sinclair, for a full minute before heading off the stage. He waved at the crowd.
“Let’s hear it for Lance,” Sed called into his microphone, raising his hand in the air. The crowd cheered on cue. “Get him a backstage pass, Jake. He makes Trey laugh.”
Trey wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, he does.”
After their set, Sed handed his microphone and earpiece to a roadie on his way offstage. Jessica met him at the bottom of the steps and wrapped her arms around him.
“You were wonderful, baby,” she murmured.
“Thanks.” He smiled and stroked away the moisture he’d left on her bare arms. He loved when she wore sexy little dresses with spaghetti straps. And she looked sensational in green. Hell, she always looked sensational. “I’m sweating all over you.”
“Not all over me,” she murmured, “but I hope that’s about to change.”
He bent his head and kissed her passionately, his tongue caressing her upper lip. Dozens of camera flashes went off in unison. Jessica stiffened and pulled away.
“I’ll meet you on the bus,” he murmured into her ear.
She scowled, but nodded. Sed removed his shirt, wiped the sweat off his face with it, and threw it into the crowd of onlookers in stadium seats above. A scuffle broke out between two chicks and the guy who’d caught it. By the time Sed left the side of the stage, security was breaking up a full out brawl in the stands.
Sed wandered past the dressing room, ignoring the after party the opening bands were enjoying. He was on his way to the bus and his woman. He hoped she was ready to roll, because he was ready to rock her world.
***
After leaving the backstage area, Jessica strode down the wide corridor that led outside. A raucous laugh caught her attention as she passed the open door to one of the dressing rooms. Some chick had her dress up over her head, showing her black panties and lack of bra to anyone who cared to pay her any attention. One of the opening band members poured a beer down her front and she squealed, holding still as he licked the alcohol from her br**sts and belly. Jessica wondered if Sed partied like that when she wasn’t around. She was certain he did. He’d probably be glad when she left so he could get back to—
With their hands in the air, a group of about twenty fans caught Sed above their heads. Hand over hand they passed him around the crowd and eventually toward the stage. When he was within reach of the barrier fence, one of the security guards pulled him free of their clutches. He hadn’t crowd surfed in ages. He’d forgotten how fun it was. With the security guard’s help, Sed found his footing on the concrete floor and stood with his belly against the metal barrier fence facing the crowd. He thrust both hands in the air, allowing the first rows of the general admission pit to touch, grab, and hug him enthusiastically. He slapped high fives with dozens of fans, squeezing each hand before moving to the next.
The security guard kept trying to tug Sed away from the crowd by the back of his shirt. He was perfectly fine. He might have a few bruises to show for his brazen interactions with the crowd, but it was well worth the adrenaline rush served by their adulation and excitement.
Brian’s voice came over the speaker system. “Uh, Sed? The song is over.”
He honestly hadn’t noticed. “Get me a mic,” he said to the security guard.
A minute later, a mic was thrust into his hand. “How are we feeling tonight, Salt Lake? Are you having a good time?”
The nearby noise of the crowd came through the loud speaker. “You know, my throat has been bothering me all night and I’m feeling pretty lazy. Do any of you dudes know our song ‘Reformation’?”
The chorus of the song spread across the crowd as the majority of them started singing. Of course, everyone knew “Reformation.” It had topped the rock charts for over a month last winter.
“Maybe one of you can help me sing it up on stage.”
The entire barrier fence surged forward in their excitement to join him.
“Not just anyone. If you want on my stage, you have to audition first.” He turned his head to look at the band, who watched him warily. “Intro to ‘Reformation.’ Just until the end of that first scream.”
In his earpiece, Dave said, “What are you doing, Sed? This isn’t part of the show.”
Tonight it is, he thought. “You,” he said to the spike-haired guy directly in front of him. “You want to audition?”
“Fuck yeah!”
Sed signaled the band and they started the song. He held the mic to Spike’s mouth and he screamed the intro. Sed winced after about five seconds of the guy’s blood-curdling screech and pulled the mic away. “Cut. Cut. Cut.” The band stopped playing mid-note. “Dude, did you swallow a dying cat? What the f**k was that sound that just came out of your mouth?”
The guy laughed with no hard feelings.
“Next,” Sed said and moved to another audience member. He continued down the barrier, letting five or six guys try their voices, until he found a guy who could produce a sound that didn’t make him want to shove pencils through his eardrums. “That’s more like it. What’s your name?”
“Justin.”
“Justin, you’re hired.”
“Yes! Do I get paid?”
“What’s your going rate?”
He hesitated. “Can I get a kiss from your woman?”
“Next!” Sed called.
Justin grabbed his wrist. “Just kidding. Jeez!”
“Sed has no sense of humor as far as Jessica is concerned,” Brian said into a microphone.
Sed tilted his head reflectively and nodded. “You’re absolutely right, Brian. Next!”
Sed helped the next auditioner over the barrier. He didn’t sound half as good as that Justin jerk, but Sed wasn’t in the mood to tolerate bullshit about Jessica, even in jest. He and his helper, named Lance of all things, took the stage. The crowd absolutely loved Lance as he made a total ass of himself by singing like a tone deaf drunk at a karaoke bar. Trey stopped playing half way through the song, but not out of frustration. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t find his fret board.
At the end of the song, Sed shook hands with Lance. Lance gushed over his guitar hero, Master Sinclair, for a full minute before heading off the stage. He waved at the crowd.
“Let’s hear it for Lance,” Sed called into his microphone, raising his hand in the air. The crowd cheered on cue. “Get him a backstage pass, Jake. He makes Trey laugh.”
Trey wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, he does.”
After their set, Sed handed his microphone and earpiece to a roadie on his way offstage. Jessica met him at the bottom of the steps and wrapped her arms around him.
“You were wonderful, baby,” she murmured.
“Thanks.” He smiled and stroked away the moisture he’d left on her bare arms. He loved when she wore sexy little dresses with spaghetti straps. And she looked sensational in green. Hell, she always looked sensational. “I’m sweating all over you.”
“Not all over me,” she murmured, “but I hope that’s about to change.”
He bent his head and kissed her passionately, his tongue caressing her upper lip. Dozens of camera flashes went off in unison. Jessica stiffened and pulled away.
“I’ll meet you on the bus,” he murmured into her ear.
She scowled, but nodded. Sed removed his shirt, wiped the sweat off his face with it, and threw it into the crowd of onlookers in stadium seats above. A scuffle broke out between two chicks and the guy who’d caught it. By the time Sed left the side of the stage, security was breaking up a full out brawl in the stands.
Sed wandered past the dressing room, ignoring the after party the opening bands were enjoying. He was on his way to the bus and his woman. He hoped she was ready to roll, because he was ready to rock her world.
***
After leaving the backstage area, Jessica strode down the wide corridor that led outside. A raucous laugh caught her attention as she passed the open door to one of the dressing rooms. Some chick had her dress up over her head, showing her black panties and lack of bra to anyone who cared to pay her any attention. One of the opening band members poured a beer down her front and she squealed, holding still as he licked the alcohol from her br**sts and belly. Jessica wondered if Sed partied like that when she wasn’t around. She was certain he did. He’d probably be glad when she left so he could get back to—
