LOW: A Rockstar Romance (10 page)

Chapter 17

Zoe

One of the best perks about working at
Grip
was the free access to all the concerts in the area. I'd been to a million shows, happily flashing my press credentials and making liberal use of the open bars. I wrote swoony, syrupy prose about just about every act I saw, and quickly became the favorite reporter for the LA scene.

Those were the fucking days.

When I lost the job, the contacts dried up steadily. It was like the stink of failure wafted off me in waves and I started finding myself turned away at the door.

When Jason and I went out, back when I was burning through my savings in a desperate attempt to maintain the lifestyle I had grown accustomed to living, I would greet the bartenders and the bouncers by name only to watch their faces fall. It wasn't long before I stopped going to shows, stopped heading out to see the hottest new deejays.

It wasn't just the loss of a job. It was the loss of an identity.

I was outside in our postage stamp sized backyard. With one eye, I watched Max as he methodically dug holes only to fill them back in again. With the other, I scrolled through the job listings, searching for anything new. 

My phone buzzed in my hand.

Low: I told you I wanted to see you.

I shoved my phone behind my back and shot a guilty look at Max, but my brother was wrapped up in lifting his shovel higher and higher, letting the dirt fall and get blown around on the driveway.

He could do that for hours. I was fine.

Me: Yes you did.

The sun was beating down on my neck, but that wasn't why I suddenly felt so warm.

Low: Do you want to see me?

I hesitated. The rush of anonymity had faded and now I was starting to wonder if I'd been pretending a little too hard. Sending naughty pictures, having phone sex, that was hardly my normal, everyday behavior. And I wasn't even going to think about the amazing oral he'd given me outside, with not thought of how we could have been caught at any moment.

As I hesitated, another message popped up.

Low: I'm not gonna try to talk you into anything. If you want to come to a show tonight, I'll leave VIP backstage passes at the gate for you.

Wait, fuck, a show?

Me: What show?

Low: the Hullabaloo.

My heart started to race. The Hullabaloo was a huge, three-day affair, sort of like Coachella-on-the-beach. Tickets cost more than two months of my salary. My
former
salary.

The closest I had ever gotten to attending was subscribing to the various Instagram feeds associated with the headlining acts.

Headlining acts, shit, wait....

Me: Ruthless is headlining?

I would have heard about it
, I thought. I wasn't that out of touch, right? I still had my finger on the pulse...sort of.

Low: Nah, we're doing a surprise appearance. Gonna walk on during Jaxson Blue's set and do a few numbers together. Easy-peasy
.

Holy shit. The way he just casually dropped Jaxson Blue's name in there, as if he was just another dude....

Me: Wait, is it really a surprise? Should you be telling me?

Low: Uh, shit.

Low: Spoiler alert.

Low: Could you like, not tell anyone? Please?

I grinned.

Me: Of course. Your secret is safe with me.

Low: So do you want to come?

That was like asking if I wanted to breathe.

Me: Yes, absolutely.

Low: Cool beans

Cool beans.
I loved that Low was secure enough in his masculinity to drop a dorky little phrase like
cool beans
into a conversation without getting self-conscious. I was smiling so hard my ears hurt.

Low: I'm leaving your passes at the gate. Bring ID and let them know you're with me.

Me: That sounds great. Thanks, Low.

He sent back a smiley face.

I set my phone down and looked up at my brother. Max hadn't moved, but there were piles of dirt dotting the whole length of the driveway.  I was going to need to get out the broom before my parents came back and needed to pull into the....

Delayed realization smacked me upside the head. "Holy fuck," I said out loud. Then clapped my hand over my mouth.

I grabbed my phone and re-read the last thing he wrote. Specifically the last sentence.

And then I re-read it again.

"Bring ID and let them know you're with me."

Let them know you're with me.

You're
with me.

Chapter 18

Low

When the door slammed one last time, and my father emerged from the bedroom he once shared with my mother - so long ago it seemed like a distant memory - he came up to the two of us. Piper, he ignored, except for a cursory pat on the top of her head. To me, he turned with a gaze full of fatherly wisdom. I tilted my head upward, ready to receive his last words of advice, before his tearful farewell.

"See you later, Lowell," he said, a nice little lie we both agreed to believe. "Remember…"

I blinked, my shoulders tense. These were the last words my father was going to say to me under this roof. I needed to remember them forever.

"Remember,” he intoned. "Never pass up an opportunity to take a piss."

And with that wisdom, he left us, choosing
his
family over
our
family.

The guys make fun of my pre-show ritual of running to the bathroom obsessively. But Pepper knows, even though she won't stand up for me, I know she knows why. Because she was there. She's my sister and she's always there.

I zipped back up again and emerged from the restroom just in time to hear Rane's braying donkey-laugh. "Doesn't matter how long it's been. We got this. Like riding a bicycle, right boys?" he boomed. Then he ducked and looked over at my sister. "And girl?"

Luckily for him, Pepper was doing her scales with her headphones on and didn't hear him.

We could hear the roar of the crowd all the way back here in the prep tent, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a thrill to hear that noise again. We had all agreed that we needed a break from touring so hard, but there was nothing like the addicting rush of playing live.

A black-clad stage manager rushed over. "We need to move. Now please."

Rane hopped onto the souped-up golf cart that was going to carry us to the main stage in secret. We all gave him a second to situate his stiff bad leg, and then the rest of us piled in around him.

"Think I oughta get one of these things?" Balzac mused, patting the cart speculatively. "It might make it easier to transport my bulbs."

"What do you use now?" Keir wondered.

"My hands," Balzac grunted.

"Of course you do," Rane smirked.

"Real men do their own yard work, asshole."

"If hiring landscapers so I can sleep in on Saturdays makes me less of a man, then I'm totally fine with being less of a man," Rane said, folding his arms over his chest.

"You should try getting your hands dirty for once in your life."

Rane swatted that idea away like a pesky mosquito. "Nah," he grinned. "That sounds like work."

"If you hate work so much, you'd better hop off this cart right now," Keir said. "Cause I think we're about ready to go do this thing." The stage manager was pulling up to the subterranean entrance that led to the main stage.

"This ain't work," Rane said. "This is rock and roll, baby." He jumped up, jostling the rest of us as the cart lurched into park. "Let's do this shit." 

I laughed and drummed my hands against my knees. "I missed this."  Then I jumped off the cart and turned to help Pep down. "You ready, sis?"

Her eyes twinkled. "You seem ready enough for both of us. Is someone coming to see us tonight?"

Pepper only really liked opening her mouth if it was to give me shit with it. Damn her mind-reading capabilities. "Yeah, a lot of fucking people," I hedged. We were walking up the path that led underneath the stage. Between the slats, we could see the crowd that stretched out like a multicolored carpet. It was so massive that it stretched to an actual vanishing point on the horizon. Up above us, Jaxson Blue thundered through his opening number and then welcomed the crowd. A cheer went up that must have been audible all the way up in the hills. 

But Pepper ignored it all and kept her gaze level with mine. "Someone specific to see you?" she pressed.

"Maybe." I tried to play it casual but I could feel my ears getting hotter. "I left her a VIP pass at the gate. It's up to her if she's coming or not." We mounted the stairs to wait for our cue.

"Uh huh. She's coming, idiot."

"Why do you say that?"

She gestured to the security monitor that showed a wide shot of the crowd. "I think word might have leaked."

I looked at the sea of upturned faces. "Holy fuck," I muttered.

My face. I saw my face...everywhere. People waved crumpled copies of the ad above their heads. Girls wore T-shirts with the ad printed over their tits. This wasn't a Ruthless show.

This was a Low show.

"Weirdos." Pepper shook her head and turned away from the monitor, but I still stared.

"Five minutes!" the stage manager warned.

But I didn't move from the monitor. 

Everything had suddenly taken on a dream-like quality. I felt like my soul had separated from my body and I was floating outside of myself. This couldn't possibly be actually happening.
Me?
They were here to see
me?

"This is bad. Is this bad?" I wondered out loud.

Rane looked over my shoulder. "Looks pretty good to me!" he crowed, clapping me on the shoulder.

"You're not pissed?"

"Why the fuck would I be pissed?"

I shifted from side to side, wondering where my powers of speech had gone. "Because this is...because I'm not supposed to..."

"Yo, me and Keir, we totally forced you to go do that ad. And you stepped up like a champ." He looked more closely at the psychotic fans waving my face around. "And if my brother and I shot ourselves in the feet by ducking it, well, that's our fucking fault."

I turned to face him. I didn't know what else to say except, "Thanks, man."

"Yeah, well don't fuck it up for us, okay?" he said.

Jaxson Blue finished up his opener and then the lights dimmed. "How'd you all like to hear me do a cover song?" he called to the crowd. He paused to let them roar their approval. "Sounds good! But I think I'm gonna need a little back-up."

"And go! Go! Go!" the stage manager hissed.

I tore myself away from the crowd on the monitor and rushed out to see them in real life. Jumping up onto the riser and sitting down on my stool felt like going home again.

Except everything had changed.

For one thing, there was now a fucking camera on me, broadcasting my face onto three story tall screens on either side of the stage. I could tell every time it showed a shot of me because the screamers got even more screamy.

I closed my eyes and ignored the cameraman up in my grill and sweated out the rhythm to 'Basic Desires.' Jax was singing backup for Keir, and the crowd was going fucking nuts.

Two huge beats and we kicked right into 'Raining Fire,' the duet that Jax had done with us way back when. The whole crowd sang along, pogoing as one.

This song was one of my fucking favorites and I just had to open my eyes and look out to watch the crowd.

The energy. Fuck, I lived for this shit. I jumped up and began playing while standing, one of my signature moves.

If the festival hadn't been outside we would have torn the roof off. I'd never heard a crowd make a noise like that before. The cameraman swung around and got right up in my face and that's when the noise got even louder and....

Holy fuck they were cheering like that for me. They
loved
me. After all these years in the background, it was like they just woke up to the fact that I existed. How in the fuck was this happening?

Rane swung his guitar around and jumped up on my platform. I kicked out the beats and we slammed into a hard-rock version of 'Cocky,' Jax's huge hit from last summer. I twirled my sticks and slammed down the four-four beat, and looked out again.

A blue blur, pogoing on the side of the stage.

Jesus.

She actually came.

Zoe.

She was watching me. How long had she been watching me? She clapped her hands and waved, utterly ecstatic. I felt my own face spread into a wild, manic grin. She was the one. I turned and focused all of that freaked out energy that was swirling around inside of me.

Heart pounding, I stretched out my stick and pointed.

I was playing for her.