Rock All Night(124)

Or, who knows… I might have savored it even more.





102




It all came crashing to an end ten days later in Vegas.

The last two concerts of the tour took place there, at the MGM Grand Garden Arena. The first show was an incredible success.

At least something about those last few days was.

Things really started to go south during the last band meeting, just hours before the final performance.

I didn’t know it until everyone was assembled in the penthouse suite, but everybody was planning to go their separate ways after Vegas. Take some time off, then join back up two months later to begin recording their third album.

It was strange to me. I thought of them as a tightly-knit family. I mean, they had lived together for over a year in a run-down house in one of the crappiest neighborhoods in Athens. And here they were about to split apart, even if only for a while.

I sat between Derek and Ryan, with Killian and Riley opposite us. Miles was standing at the front of the room and currently running the show.

“Alright, Killian, you’re going back to London, correct?”

The guitarist nodded serenely. “Might pop over to Amsterdam for a bit, too.”

Every single person in the room looked at him in surprise.

He noticed, and held out his joint as though to say, For the WEED, people. For the WEED.

Everyone settled back in their chairs – except Riley. “You should bang a coupla hookers while you’re there, K.”

“What, to relax him even more?” Ryan asked.

“Come visit me, luv,” Killian said to Riley, “and you can frolic in the red light district all you want.”

“Maybe I’ll come, too,” Derek joked.

I gave him an icy stare.

Now, granted, he was joking. (I think.) But we were having more and more frequent fights – at least once every day, it seemed. In fact, we were in the midst of one right then: about how he kept paying more and more attention to the half-naked groupies at his shows, and flirting with them more and more brazenly.

My jealousy had been in overdrive for a week.

So, no, his joke didn’t go over so well with me.

The rest of the band looked away uncomfortably. Except, of course, for Riley.

“You should get Blondie to bang a coupla hookers, too, D,” she hooted. “Get her to relax.”


“Don’t I know it,” Derek muttered under his breath.

My glare just became colder.

“If the soap opera can be temporarily adjourned until the end of the meeting,” Miles barked, then turned to Riley. “Alright, what are your plans?”

“Fuck you.”

“No thank you. What are your plans?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“I happen to be the person who looks out for your career, though by your repeated attempts to sabotage it, I can certainly understand your not comprehending that fact,” Miles snapped. “If something happens, or an opportunity arises, I need to know where you can all be reached.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna be reached.”

“RILEY.”

“Jesus, FINE. New York. I’m gonna go to New York and hang out with my sister for a while.”

“Make sure I have her number before you leave.”

“You’ve already got my cell!”

“And we all know how reliable you are. Ryan?”

“I’m going to Athens first, visit the family, then I’m going to go spend a couple of months in South Dakota.”

I looked at him questioningly. This was the first I’d heard of South Dakota.

He gave me a mysterious smile in return.

“Out in the middle of nowhere?” Miles asked.

“That’s the idea.”

“Make sure I can get in contact with you.”

“I’ll be reachable by cell, and I’ll have internet, but I’ll get you the house number, too.”

“That sounds nice,” I whispered.

Ryan nodded. “It should be relaxing.”

“Where are you stay– ”

“AHEM,” Miles cleared his throat loudly as he stared me down.

I shrank in my seat like a chastened first-grader.

“Thank you,” he growled, then turned to Derek. “Well, what about you, then?”

“No idea.”

I frowned and looked at him.

He just kept staring at Miles and didn’t return my gaze.

“No plans,” Miles said. “Really.”

“Nope.”

“You must have some idea,” Miles said. “I’m sure you’ve discussed it with your far, far better half.”

Even though he said it sarcastically, it was practically a declaration of love – coming from Miles, anyway.

“Nope.”

Which was true. We hadn’t discussed it at all.

I hadn’t even known the band was separating.

And suddenly my jealousy and anger were overwhelmed by fear.

“Then we’ll just have to outfit you with one of those GPS bracelets for convicts,” Miles said, with no indication he was joking. Then he turned back to the group. “We reconvene in Athens in two months, people. Show up ready to work.” Finally he looked specifically at me. “Ms. Reynolds, I assume this will be the last I’ll be seeing you?”