Cadence (Ruby Riot Book 1) (5 page)

Chapter Six

TEGAN

I meet Bryn inside the stadium entrance where he ushers me to one of the offices before I find time to have a real look at my surroundings. A huge LCD screen features an announcement about Blue Phoenix’s and Ruby Riot’s concert tonight. On another wall, one of their recent music clips plays on a matching screen. I’m itching to take pictures, already plotting my blog post. One with Bryn by the screens would be good to share, but I don’t get a chance. Yet.

The small room we step into contains a small round table with four blue-seated chairs, the window overlooking the nearby car park. A woman in a business suit sits at the table furiously typing a text message on her phone, short blonde hair falling across her face.

“Tina, this is Tegan,” says Bryn, to the immaculately groomed woman. “Tegan, Tina. She’s head of PR on tour and works with the tour manager. Makes decisions.”

I grin. Awesome. Maybe I can persuade Tina to let me join her and gain some PR experience. “Hey.”

Tina looks up from her phone and appraises me with disinterest. “Hello.” She looks to Bryn. “I thought you were sending her home?”

Sending me home? I’m not twelve.

“I agreed she could stay if we find her something to do,” says Bryn

“Something to do?” asks Tina.

“Yeah. She doesn’t have any skills really, so maybe you have some ideas?”

“Cheeky bugger!” I say and shove his arm. “Just because I’m not musical.”

“I mean you don’t have training in anything useful for the tour.”

“What did you have in mind?” Tina asks Bryn, frowning at me.

“Dunno.”

“Useful…” She sighs.

“I can be your PA, big brother,” I say with a snigger.

“Very funny, Tegan. I don’t have or need a PA.”

“Oh, well, maybe Jax will be interested in my services.” Bryn looks around sharply, and I grin to indicate I’m teasing. Serves him right for interfering.

Following the sexually charged encounter in the lift, I don’t think Jax would say no to anything I could offer him. It would’ve been easy to drag my fingers through his messy, blond hair and meet my lips with his. I blink away the image of us together. Hot, yeah, but with that comes the inevitable burn.

I turn to Tina. “I can do some promo? Help out with marketing?”

Tina taps her fingers on the iPad. “Do you have any experience?”

“I have a blog,” I suggest.

“You and thousands of other people, honey. That’s not experience.” I bite my tongue at retorting. “We need people to sell merchandise at every venue. Usually we contract locals, but Tegan could help out. Takes a while to set up, and she’d need to be there for sales in the evening.”

“Fine by me,” I say.

Bryn nods. “Keeps her out of trouble in the evenings, at least.”

“No problem. I can cause all the chaos in the daytime.” I shake my head at him. “Seriously though, I’m confused about what you think I’m going to get up to on tour, Bryn. I’m not exactly a wild child.”

Bryn crosses his arms and again I catch a hint his sense of humour has taken a vacation. “I’m responsible for you.”

“I’m responsible for myself.”

Tina’s phone rings and she glances at the display. “I need to take this. Tegan, come back here around four and I’ll introduce you to Sam. He’s in charge of the merchandising and can show you the ropes.”

“Okay. Cool.”

Tina gives us a pointed look and indicates her phone. I leave the room with Bryn and snatch my chance. “Are you sure you’re all right? Didn’t you want to tour again?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

He rubs his tired eyes. “I’m happy to be on tour. I prefer being around the Blue Phoenix world. I guess I’m tired and stressed about the first gig of the tour.” He’s avoiding looking at me. Definitely lying. “I’ll back off, Tegan, but I’m here if you need something.”

I take Bryn’s hand. “And I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

As kids, we shared every secret and Bryn would confide in me about things. I didn’t fully understand his problems when he was a teen and I was still young, but that’s why he told me, I think. Bryn could talk to me and it didn’t matter I had no answers, just that I was there.

“Yeah. Stay out of trouble while I’m busy.”

Bryn walks away and I wrinkle my nose. He’s not okay. For the first time he doesn’t want to talk to me about what’s bothering him, and that stings.

He disappears out of sight and I look around. Time to explore.

****

JAX

I climb out of the cab and the bright sunlight hurts my eyes. Tegan’s advice about sunglasses was right. The lighting in the venue isn’t much kinder and I squint as I head inside. Nobody is around, so I pull out my phone and text Will; let him know I’ve arrived. When he doesn’t respond, I set about finding the stage area myself. Can’t be that hard and each extra minute I’m late, the bigger the argument with Ruby will be when I arrive. Disorientated by the uniformity of the place, I wander yet another corridor with doors every hundred metres. Large numbers on the wall above indicate seating sections; I’m up to 30 so far.

Will returns my text and I send him the number of the door I’m outside. Five minutes later, Will appears instead, striding along the hallway towards me. “You still look like shit, man.”

Beneath his spiked dark hair and pierced eyebrow, Will’s green eyes are circled by dark rings too. “You don’t look too hot either.”

“Late night entertaining.” He winks at me. “Guess you chose the wrong girl.”

“Mmm.” Not like I’m going to tell him the real reason. “There’s always tonight.”

He laughs. “Or are you saving yourself for Tegan?”

“Yeah, right. Where is everybody?” I step in the direction Will came from.

“This way.”

He leads me back down the hallway, past signs in Portuguese I can’t read, past closed bars and a café before stopping at maroon painted double doors. “Wait till you see this!”

I follow Will through the door into the empty stadium. After a few steps, I stop and look around.

Holy crap.

The size of the expansive floor is impressive enough, but the number of rows of seats and the height they reach blows my mind. I think I’d suffer vertigo if I were at the top.

“This place is fucking huge!” I mutter.

“Bit different to The King’s Head,” replies Will.

A little over a year ago, we played venues where we could see almost every member of the crowd, and the barman. Tonight, we’ll be lucky to see one person’s face clearly. Across the space, the stage holds half a dozen people whose faces I can’t see properly from this distance, who are moving speakers and stage props around. I recognise the scarlet hair of one of them and she’s standing straight, facing our way.

“What mood is Ruby in?” I ask Will, cautiously.

“The question is what mood will she be in with you because your name appears to have changed to ‘Fucking Jax’, today.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

Shit. “But apart from me, how is she?”

“Not as bad as usual for pre-gig, probably be worse later.”

Taking a deep breath, I saunter over. I don’t want conflict this early on and Ruby had better not talk to me like a kid, I’m not taking that shit.

Ruby’s slim frame is pronounced in black leggings and a sloppy red and black striped jumper. The colour of her hair and bright red matching lipstick accentuates how pale and unwell she looks. Ruby narrows her eyes as I approach.

“Are you feeling better?” I ask, straight off the bat.

In rehearsals, before we left, she was hit with gastro that’s lingering. She ignores me. “Where the fuck were you? We were supposed to meet at eleven!”

“Sorry.”

“Not a great start, Jax, is it?” Ruby says with a sigh.

I’m unsure whether to be relieved or worried by the lack of yelling; I pull my best apologetic face. “Yeah, won’t happen again.”

Ruby pulls hair from her face and twists it into a ponytail. “A chick?”

“No. Drank too much. Getting a little over excited I guess.”

The view from the stage stuns and terrifies me as I picture the crowd who’ll fill the space later. Last gig I went to at a stadium was Foo Fighters, where I threw myself into the action at the front. How can people stuck in the top seats enjoy concerts? What’s the point if you can’t dance?

“Your gear’s over there. Five minutes and someone was about to start sound-checking for you.”

I tense. Nobody touches my guitars. Bad enough I have to relinquish them to be driven from place to place with all the other gear.

Heading over to the edge of the stage, I grab the battered case, smoothing where the peeling stickers have been knocked in transit. Inside rests my new pride and joy; the Gibson Les Paul I bought with the advance from our record deal. Okay, a mid-list guitar, but this is the start of a collection to one day rival Jem Jones’s. Stroking the wood, I examine for damage but there’s none. Good.

Nate appears from backstage. He and Will are dressed identically today, black jeans and the new tour t-shirts, same blue Converse. Presumably this is to confuse people on purpose, something they enjoy. Years of knowing the pair and despite the fact they look exactly the same in every way, I know the subtle differences in their faces and mannerisms. Plus, he’s carrying drumsticks, which is a giveaway.

“Hey man, decided to turn up?”

“Sorry,” I mutter again, fed up with the constant apologising.

He shrugs. “Ruby was late and disappeared for an hour when she heard you were ‘delayed’, so we haven’t got far with the check.”

Sneaky. Ruby never told me that.

“Yeah, you gotta be out in an hour for Phoenix, so get your arse into gear.” A tall, muscular guy with a sour look indicates the speakers. “Sound engineer wants a break too.”

“’Kay.”

Curious and concerned about Ruby, I watch her as I head to plug my guitar in. She smooths her hair, and kneels as she tapes a set list to the floor.

“Ruby? We gonna do this?”

She looks over. “Right. Hang on.”

Ruby’s guitar rests on the floor near the mic and my concern grows at her lack of interaction. I’m fucking nervous about the first night opening for Blue Phoenix. Are her nerves so bad that she’s been terrified into a personality change?

Mid-way through the check, Ruby abruptly stops singing, sets her guitar down, and heads off stage without a word. I look back at Nate who pauses, holding his drumsticks in the air with a shrug. Throwing an apology to the now red-faced stage manager, I unhook my guitar from my neck, put it down, and follow.

The narrow backstage hallway lacks the sophistication of the main venue, concrete floors and plain walls. Ruby is nowhere to be seen.

****

TEGAN

A tour of the venue is quick and boring. Metal shutters block off some areas; chairs are stacked in corners. I try a few doors that lead into the stadium but most are locked. Apart from a couple of ladies vacuuming the dark blue carpets, the place is empty. After taking a few shots of the surroundings on my phone, I head in the direction Bryn went ten minutes ago. Maybe he’s backstage.

Backstage. Could be awesome. Could be boring too. My stomach growls. Bet there’s food, though.

Circling the huge venue, I finally locate a door without a section number above and step through into a concrete floored hallway. The door slams behind, sound echoing down the empty space and I pause, attempting to figure out the best way to go. Nearby sounds of voices and music point me in the direction of the stage.

A door opposite opens and a girl around my age steps out. Perspiration shines on her deathly pale face, and the scarlet red hair instantly tells me who this is. The larger than life, seldom polite, lead singer of Ruby Riot, Ruby. She rests against the wall smoothing tendrils of damp hair from her forehead. I glance at a sign on the wall above. The bathrooms.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

Ruby looks up and blinks at me. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“You don’t look it.”

“You’re Bryn’s sister, aren’t you?” she asks, ignoring my concern for her welfare.

“I am. How did you know?”

“You look like him. Same eyes. Jem told me you were here and how pissed off Bryn is.” Ruby wipes at her clammy forehead with the edge of her jumper.

“I think he’s generally pissed off with everything currently.”

“Haven’t spoken to him recently.”

“I’m Tegan.”

“Ruby.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

She pulls herself away from the wall. “I said, yes.” The irritation in her voice points to the Ruby reputation I’ve heard about. Short fuse. She looks past my shoulder. “Fucking great…”