It was like a fifteen-minute drive between venues, and they had several cars ferrying people back and forth as needed. We climbed into the back of a big white van with the casino logo on it, which had brought over the rest of the Midnight Hunt techs. It was taking some of ours back to the hotel, along with us, apparently. Pierce was not in the van, but Joe, Dave, and Matty were.
“Where’s Randy and Pierce?” I asked, sitting next to Joe.
“They went back in the car before this one, but there wasn’t enough room for all of us,” Joe sniped. “He’s being a regular wanker.”
“You mean Pierce?” I asked to clarify as if Pierce wasn’t normally the one being the wanker.
“No. I mean Randy. Swear he’s kissing Pierce’s ass right now.” Joe rolled his eyes, and the other guys made noises of agreement.
Dave glared at Rowan. “Are you going to be as pissy as him?”
“No.” Rowan’s grimace said it all. He had been nothing but nice to everyone so far, and Dave knew it; he was only blowing off steam.
“He’ll chill out before show time. Don’t get worked up over it.” I was constantly playing the middleman and waiting for someone to say I only liked Pierce because I didn’t want to be behind the mic. And while that was true on one level, it wasn’t everything—not the whole story. Maybe Rowan’s story was similar.
When we got back to the hotel, I told the guys I’d catch up with them later and snagged Rowan’s arm. “Come on.”
We went to one of the restaurants that was open and snagged a quiet corner table. I ordered coffee and a breakfast plate, since I was hungry as hell. Rowan got coffee and fruit. “You’re too skinny to only eat fruit.”
“I’ll pick at it and eat a large lunch. It’s too early for real food.”
I glared at him, but it was his life. “Fine. So what happened with Pierce in middle school?”
“I joined the band, and he joined the yearbook. All the cool kids were on yearbook.”
“Huh? That sounds backwards.”
“Right. But that’s what happened.” The coffee arrived, and Rowan dumped three or four sugar packets in his, while I did the same.
“What instrument did you play?”
“Trombone. Thought it was kind of cool. In hindsight, I should have gone for the saxophone.” He shrugged. “More sax in bands. Like rock bands.”
“There are plenty of horn sections, man.”
He shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. “I gave it up before high school anyway.”
“And Pierce?”
“Stopped paying attention to him. He left me behind since I wasn’t cool enough for him. We went to different high schools, and we didn’t really see each other again much until after graduation. Saw him in some of the same party circles, then he started singing with that band.”
“What band? You mean Surf Sons?”
“Yep.” He popped his P and grinned. “Then his big head got bigger. If you can believe that. Ha. But we hung out more. I was working for a little online website that followed music in the LA scene.”
I nodded. “Did you come and see Teaserfreak? I was heading that band when I met Miami.”
He shook his head. “I…I kind of got caught up in Surf Sons. Maybe too much. And then by the time Pierce left them, I got fired.” He chuckled sardonically. “Probably should have gone to see your band. They wanted more variety.”
“That makes sense.”
“Right, but I was stupid.”
“If you say so. Then what?”
“Pierce helped me out some, and I had a gig as a tech for Black Tide.”
“I’ve heard of them. They’re decent.”
