Stay Until We Break (15 page)

“God bless Jim Testa,” Emmylou says of the proprietor of Jersey’s biggest and best independent music zine. “That guy gets permanent guest list status.”

“Here’s to Jim,” I say, raising my beer, and we all toast. And ain’t that the truth—it was Jim who hooked us up with half the bands we know out here, including Skulls. Just as we’re all signing the magazine, Crown the Robin show up, all pissy after a rough day with their ride.

“What’s this?” Miles says. “Our little sisters are giving autographs? They’re really growing up, aren’t they, Anton?”

“What happened with the order of the bands?” Elliot asks. “I thought you guys were opening, then us, then the Skulls?”

“Just ‘Skulls,’ man,” Aubrey says. “You’re from Jersey City, don’t you know your Misfits?”

“The Misfits are pussies,” Elliot says. “Everyone from Jersey City knows that.”

“And everyone from Lodi knows everyone from Jersey City can suck it,” Joey says.

“‘
The
Skulls’ sounds way better than ‘Skulls’ as a band name,” Elliot says. “Fuck the Misfits.”

“What the fuck?” Aubrey says. “What the hell kind of a name is Crown the Robin, anyway? You guys are the traveling Audubon Society or something?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Elliot says. “I need to take a piss.”

Then he walks off in a huff. Great.

“We don’t mind going on first,” Emmylou says. “Really, Skulls should be the headliners, don’t you think? You’re the home band.”

“Emmy, these people are here for Soft,” Aubrey says. “Believe me. If you go on first, people will leave and won’t be here for Crown the Robin anyway, and if we go on before you, it’ll just hype your set that much more. It’s always cooler to be from out of town.”

“Whatever you guys want to do, I guess,” Emmylou says. “It’s your bill.”

“No, Emmylou,” Aubrey says. “This one is all you.”

***

Crown is on first and play like they are on fucking fire. Not sure if it’s because Elliot is pissed off about the van or what, but their set ratchets the game up in a way that makes us all nervous.

“Shit, I guess we should have played first,” says Aubrey, watching Crown, but I have no idea what he’s worried about. Skulls play their trademark horror punk like they’ve channeled Danzig himself into the set, and despite how damn big the room is, the place is full by any standard. We’re all right up front, Miles and Anton relieving Sonia at the merch table so she can hang with us at the front of the stage, and fuck, I still can’t keep my hands off of her. She’s changed into her halter dress, her hair pinned up on top of her head so I can see those shoulders and neck and I slip my fingers up into her hair, frustrated that I still haven’t figured out where in this club I can get her to myself for a few minutes.

The room clears out a little after Skulls finish their set, and we feel kind of let down. But hey, that’s the way it goes. We climb up onto the stage, hook up all our gear. There’s so much damn space up here I feel like I don’t even know where Travis is. I look past Emmy and he’s there, grinning at me as he nods out in the direction of the crowd. It’s hard to see because there are real stage lights, right in our eyes. But I shield them against the glare and holy fuck—now the room is totally packed. I mean, people are pressed all the way up to the stage, and it’s full of bodies all the way to the back wall. Sunny is standing on the floor in front of me but off to the side with Aubrey and Anton, her arms over her head as she’s yelling with the rest of the crowd, she’s so excited. Emmy grips my arm.

“Cole?” she says. “Do you think these people think we’re someone else?”

“I don’t know,” I say, but then the crowd starts chanting, “Soft! Soft! Soft!” so I guess they know who we are. Awesome.

Travis starts feeding back on his guitar, his signal that it’s go time. Emmy and I clink beer bottles, and she turns to the mic.

“Hey, Boone!” she says. “Pack your shit, because we’re taking you all the way back to Hub City with us, all right?”

The crowd roars, and Joey clicks his sticks, one—two—three—four, and we launch into “Steady Beth,” our fastest, rowdiest, dirtiest tune. We’re immediately thrown, in the best possible way, when the crowd is as loud as Emmy, singing our song from the very first line of the verse. Now I can’t keep my feet planted on the stage. Even Trap forgoes his usual cool, introverted stance to stalk right to the edge of the stage and bang his head during the chorus. I look down to where Sonia is, because I know how happy this has got to be making her. Her eyes are closed as she bounces and sings along, too, and I have to check the goofy smile I feel taking over my face.

The high I get from this set is intense. Fucking transformational. It’s like I become the guy I really am, all the way at my core. I’m right here for this next note, this thundering kick that Joey is planting in my brain, over and over. This flying buzz of Trap’s lead and the thick, heavy carpet of Emmy’s Gretsch, so rich and delicious I feel my face melting. I lay the ground floor we’re building this palace of sound on, and everything else I’ve ever done, ever felt, every thought disappears and in its place is nothing but this moment. That change. That plugged-in feeling I get when I open my mouth and join Emmy on the harmony and we both know it sounds so fucking good. And when we play the single, “Loud,” at the end of the set, the crowd sings along the entire time, jumping up in the air along with Emmylou, who ends the set with a bona fide crowd surf. When they demand an encore, she comes back to rip into the beginning of “Metal Madness,” and if we thought the crowd was nuts before? Now they’re a mob, all head banging and thrashing in front of the stage.

I wish Sonia could see this from the stage—she’d be so happy. I look out into the crowd to find her in the middle of “Into the Void.” She’s still in front of me but a little off to the side of the stage. She doesn’t see me looking, though. She’s too busy dancing. Her hair’s come loose and is flying as she head bangs along with Aubrey and a few more locals. Some tall dude in an Appalachian State T-shirt is standing a little too close to her, I think, but Aubrey is right there so I’m guessing it’s a friend of his. I know Vincent and Miles are nearby and will look out for her. She’s having a blast and I’m sure everything is fine. It fucking better be, unless college boy wants my headstock between the eyes. In any case, I have to make this change—which I almost fucking miss— into “Raining Blood” and Joey slams the crash right next to my head as Emmylou gives me a funny look, but I get right back on it, and now I’m back in the zone and that’s where I stay until we finally say good night and the house lights come up.

When it’s all over, we don’t have to hurry to pack up the guitars and cords and pedals for once because we headlined. There’s a group of guys here we don’t even know, friends of Skulls, loading our cabinets and the drums off the stage for us, like we have actual roadies and shit, and I think, damn. I could get used to this. But don’t, Cole. Just don’t. Appreciate the moment and then let it go, because that’s all it is. A moment. Not real life.

We step off the stage and are swarmed with people. Someone sticks a drink in my hand—don’t even know who, since it’s not Sunny. I look around and don’t see her, so maybe she’s at the bar. I field some questions from a few girls about songs, where we’re headed, where we’ve been, am I busy after the show, because . . . ? Yeah, in fact I am. My heart thumps thinking about it, actually. My eyes search the room for anyplace I can have a few minutes alone with Sonia. But first . . . where the hell is she? She usually comes right over when the set is done if she’s not busy selling T-shirts and singles. But she’s not here and she’s not at the merch table—Miles and Elliot are hanging out there. I look over to the other end of the stage, where Trap and Emmy are chatting with a few locals. Joey is swarmed by a bunch of guys in beards and black T-shirts, no doubt talking muscle cars. I crane my head over the top of these girls’ heads because I’m trying to spot Sonia, but I don’t see her anywhere.

“Emmy, where’s Sonia?” I call over.

“I’m not sure,” she says. “Probably went to the van for more T-shirts.”

Right. I try not to be rude to the two girls who are talking to me, but I cut the chat short and walk out to the van. A ton of people are smoking and hanging out and drinking out of plastic cups in the parking lot. I get stopped a couple of times to talk but make it quick. She’s not out here, and I’m sure she’s just fine, but where the fuck is she? I’d feel better if I at least saw the Appalachian State boy somewhere, but I don’t see him, either. I’m not going to let my imagination run away with me, though. There’s no need. She’ll be around here somewhere. But when I head to the backstage area and she’s not there with the gear, I can’t help but feel fucking anxious.

I walk to the other side of the club, my heart pounding, not stopping to talk to the few people who try to stop me to chat. I feel like a dick but I have to find out where Sonia is before I lose it.

I get to the bathrooms and stare at the door to the girls’ room, trying to figure out what to do. I’m about to look for Emmylou to have her check if she’s in there, when out walks Sonia, her hair pinned back up, fresh lipstick on. The sight of her and the big, happy smile she gives me when she sees me, I swear, stops my heart altogether.

“Hey, rock star,” she says. Then she gives me the look—that once-over that lingers just a beat on my cock, already on its way to hard at the mere sight of her.

“Hi,” I say, my eyes locked on hers. Another girl walks out of the bathroom and I get a glimpse inside before the door swings closed. I don’t see anyone in there, just the side of the stalls, a wall covered in band stickers, the sinks and mirror to the right. I look down at Sunny, and before she can even say, “Nice set,” I push the bathroom door open and push her back inside. Oh, the look on her face when I do. Shocked, yeah. But that surprised little, “What are you . . . oh my God,” she says when I pick her up and pin her against the wall makes me harder than I may ever be again. She’s hot in my arms, breathing fast when I put my mouth on hers, tongue against her teeth, my dick pressed right between her legs, and fuck, I definitely don’t have a rubber since I gave mine to Joey back in Nashville, Goddamn it.

“Holy shit, you guys,” I hear Emmylou say, sounding sort of impressed, as she comes out of a stall and sees us in the mirror.

“Emmy,” Sunny says, between heavy breaths as I suck at the skin on her neck, dig my fingers into her thighs. “Watch the door.”

“Right, um, okay,” she says, and then waltzes out of the bathroom.

The minute she’s gone, Sonia reaches down the front of my pants and wraps her hand around my cock.

“Christ,” I groan. “Sunshine, you’re going to get yourself fucked if you keep that up.”

“That’s the idea,” she says, and then God bless her, she pulls her little yellow bag out of her purse, grabs a condom from it, and rips the wrapper open. She pulls at the button and then the zipper on my pants, pulls my dick out, and rolls the rubber right down me as I suck a mark into the skin of her neck.

“Cole,” she pants. “Hurry.”

I can’t help but hurry. I reach up her dress, into her underwear, slip a finger inside of her as I shove my tongue deep in her mouth, and oh holy fuck, she drips onto my fingertips, her panties totally soaked through. I steady her against the wall and stroke back into her again, now with two fingers, now three, until she pleads. “Fuck, Cole,” she says. “Come on.”

“Mmmm, well you didn’t say ‘please.’”

“Oh my God,” she moans. “Seriously? You’re worried about manners in a bar bathroom?”

I kiss her shoulder, scrape my teeth along her skin as I slide my fingers into her again and she moans softly.

“You sure you really want me to fuck you right here?” I tease her, tonguing along the edge of her ear. I pull her underwear off to the side and position myself against her, ready to go. “With all these people outside?”

“Yes,” she whimpers. “Please . . . now . . .” Then she yelps when I thrust into her, nailing her to the wall, and Christ, she’s tight as fuck, a soft fist gripping my cock. I have to stop once I’m inside her and regain control of myself. It’s going to be a quick fuck either way, but damn it, I’m going to make her come first.

“Sonia,” I say, and she looks into my eyes, and oh fuck, she looks high. Her tongue slips out of her mouth, wets her lips, and then her mouth falls open as she pants.

“Yeah?” she whispers.

“Touch yourself,” I say. “I want to see.”

Her face flushes as I hike the skirt of her dress up. I look down and watch her hand disappear into her panties, and fuck, fuck, fuck, she gets even wetter. My hips buck as I slam into her, shaking the damn wall, pounding her until she’s screaming my name and coming all over my dick, and end of story, my friend. I explode and that’s the end of me and any pretense of cool I will ever have with her, ever again. The end of any chance I’ll be able to even lay eyes on her and not just fall to my knees and give her whatever she wants. Anything she asks me for. Whatever it is.

I catch my breath, look at my girl, see how the afterglow makes her skin damp with sweat, her face flushed pink. I’m still inside of her, holding her up against the wall, and all I can think about is how I want more. Not just more of her body, of her hot, hungry sounds in my ear. I want everything else, too. The sleepy sighs in the morning, the laser tongue paired with that endless supply of common sense. The look she gives me right now as she comes down off that mountaintop. I want all that to belong to me.

I run my tongue along her bottom lip before I slide it back into her mouth. She shudders again in my arms, clutching me as she kisses me back. Then she buries her face in my neck and sighs, sounding every bit as far fucking gone as I feel.

“Sonia,” I whisper into her hair, and I’m so ready to say it all—everything I’ve got to say. I’m ready to tell her I’m in love with her and probably have been for years. But as high as I still feel, I know this isn’t the time and place to tell her all that. I look around and feel like I’m coming out of a daze, like I’m just now realizing that I’ve just fucked the girl I love senseless in a bar bathroom.