The band seemed a little off when we got to the next venue; Damien was still shy around Luca. Luca was still awkward around Damien and I just sat in the wings. I couldn’t take this anymore; I needed a little air from all this tension. I slipped out of the backstage door and leant back against the wall and sighed, I wish this would be over. I wish I could just get my power back and change Luca’s mind.
I took a while before I decided to go for a walk, get away from the place and the music. Then I saw a van outside, a guy was sat in it, just relaxing against the seat. But, what caught me most was that he spoke, “"You're taking a breather from the show too, huh?"
"Yeah, you have no idea," I nodded, stopping beside his window. I couldn’t see the name of the band he was with in the dark, the van sort of blended in.
"S'up?" But his clothes showed me who he was, he was a roadie. His ripped jeans and his plain black top were pretty normal. It was the backstage pass flung around his neck that told me.
"Trouble in the band, that's all,” I shrugged; it wasn’t such a big deal. I’m used to it.
"What band are you with?"
"Killing the Phoenix," I muttered.
"Oh, awesome, they're getting pretty big now aren't they? So what trouble's driven you out here?"
"Just a little tension between the members," I shrugged again, I didn’t want him a big deal or spreading it around.
He half smiled, the edges of his lips just tugging up slightly, "It's not normal if a band gets on for more than a week at a time, I promise. Trailing around in a van or bus together for months on end does that to you. It'll blow over."
I laughed, "I don't think so."
"Why not?" he shrugged, "it seems bad now in the middle of it all, but you'll be laughing when you finish touring and take a break,” yeah, yeah. Whatever roadie...I took a closer look at his pass...Kieran.
"Yep. I'll believe you, if you knew you wouldn't be saying that."
"Go on then. What's going on? I promise I won't spill," he winked.
"Nope, shan't tell. My boyfriend would be pretty angry. You won't like him when he's angry."
"Which one's your boyfriend?" he asked with a small smirk.
"Cancer," he whistled appreciatively, "the guy's tough, but half of me thinks it's a front. At least, how he was acting with that kid seemed pretty genuine. I bet he's a real softy under the badass act."
"He'd never harm a kid. He's not that bad, but adults it's different. I have seen his bad side more than I care to remember."
"If he's such an ass, why're you with him?" If only he knew.
"Because I love him silly,"
He tried not to laugh, "sure,” how dare he!? I s'pose at least you don't seem as shallow as the other girls who date band members."
"Yeah, thanks jackass," I murmured.
"Can you blame me? I've been a roadie for nearly ten years; I've seen enough girls dating band members just 'cause they're getting famous to know what I'm on about. Didn't mean to piss you off," He smiled, "I'll buy you a drink to make up for it, if you like.”
"Yeah, I can't just disappear like that you know."
"You're not allowed to go for a drink with someone? As friends?"
"Friends? I just met you and you pissed me off. Plus, you're a bloke and he won't know that will he?"
He shrugged, “I'm attempting to make up for it at least."
"Yeah, by getting me killed? You’re Einstein aren’t you?"
"Then tell him you're going to a bar."
"They're still playing."
He sighed, "I'd wait but the band I work for are on next. Maybe after I’ve packed up all their useless shit and driven them back to their hotel?"
"Unlucky hmm? But you're really persistent aren't you?"
"I'm not one to upset a lady and leave her that way."
"Acting the gentleman too?"
"Acting better than what you've told me of Cancer."
"You don't know anything."
"No, you're right, I don't."
"Yeah, so just leave it will you?" I grunted before walking back toward the back door.
"So if a drink won't make it up to you, what will?" he called after me. I growled, lifting my hand to him. He paused expectantly and I caught his thoughts, his hopes. So I sighed, turning back on my heels to face him. "I dunno, you'll think of something."
He laughed, "Like what, flowers? Like you said, I don't know you. I'd like to though."
He paused, "What?"
"What what?" he smiled slightly. I sighed and growled again, turning my back to him once more.
"C'mon. You're the least shallow person I’ve met in a good few years. Indulge me and have a drink with me later?"
I turned with a growl. "Just one, when I finish it, I'm gone."
"Make it a slow one then," he smiled, unfazed by my snarl, or my promise to leave after a single drink
"At this rate I'll make it a shot."
"Are you this snappish with everyone?"
"Just you," I growled again.
He smiled, "I feel special. And don't say special needs," he added, narrowing his eyes slightly, I had to give it to him. He was persistent, annoyingly persistent.
"Right, whatever slave boy," I muttered.
"Slave boy?" he laughed sharply.
"Well what do you do for a living? Do whatever your masters tell you. You're a slave."
"Slaves don't get paid. I'm more like a servant."
"Very little slim pickings, boy."
"I get free food and drinks, it's enough," he laughed again, "I save the money to try and get out of this dead end job. It seems to evaporate in Hot Topic stores each month, though."
"Foolish boy too," I smiled slightly, before it dropped a little, "Luca's coming."