“She okay?”
“Not great. But hangin’ in there.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
I ran my hands down my face. “Nothing anyone can do. But thanks.”
“We’ll be back home soon. Only a few more shows on this tour.”
“Not soon enough. The kids need me.”
Shane didn’t answer right away. He scrunched his brow as he said, “I know you love those kids, Damien. But isn’t there someone else who can help take care of them? Somewhere they could stay while Violet gets better and you tour?”
I had to fight the red-hot anger as it bubbled inside me at his words.
My jaw tightened. “I’m all they have. I won’t abandon them.” I never wanted them to feel like I did as a kid. Like I wasn’t good enough. That no one cared about me. That no one loved me.
Shane sighed. “I know you won’t. Just remember, I’m here if you need anything.” Shane straightened and the curtain fell back into place. “All you have to do is ask.”
But that was the problem, wasn’t it?
I wasn’t one to ask for help.
I could do it myself.
Most people didn’t realize the behind-the-scenes work that went into playing a gig. Besides the actual performance, we had to set up and tear down, perform equipment checks, book with the venue, and arrange for travel. Even though we’d signed with a label, most of those duties fell squarely on our shoulders.
Colton put an amp down beside me. “That’s the last of it. Now we need to set up the merch table.”
I huffed, moving my hands from my hips to wipe the sweat from my forehead. “Always something to be done.”
Colton smirked. “Don’t worry, Princess. We won’t have you do too much.”
I turned to face him. “What?”
“I said don’t worry. Before the show tonight, you’ll have plenty of time to press your outfit and style your hair.”
Glaring, I raised my chin. He was barely taller than me, but I could scrap with the best of them and I wasn’t afraid to get my hands dirty when needed. One of the consequences of going through the teenage years without parents. “I’ve had a really shitty morning. I don’t have time for your immaturity right now.”
“Hey, guys. Let’s cool it down, okay?” Hudson said, stepping between us.
I scoffed as I turned and started walking away, yelling over my shoulder. “It’s your lucky day, Colton.”
I walked out into the afternoon sun, my fists clenched tight, ready to hit something, anything. Anger, frustration, and helplessness pulsed through me, and I couldn’t quiet the storm.There were times when Colton and I didn’t see eye toeye. The phrase ‘too many cooks in the kitchen’ applied, but I couldn’t see how this little tussle was related. As far as I knew, we had been on the same page with band stuff for a while.
As we completed the preparations for the show, the weight of my emotions pressed down on me. I felt like a metal wire, each moment winding me tighter and tighter. Worry for my sister and the urgent need to be with my niece and nephew gnawed at me. It was only a matter of time before the tension became too much to bear and I snapped.
Colton and I stayed out of each other’s way for the rest of the afternoon. As patrons arrived at the venue, I put on my most friendly façade. The last thing I needed was my resting bitch face to be misinterpreted by someone who came to enjoy our music.
Standing behind the merch table, I took in a deep breath and rolled my shoulders, forcing the stiffness away and allowing the muscles in my body to relax.
It wasn’t only passion that drove me, music was part of who I was. I found myself in every note, every harmony, every song.
It was the essence of my existence and coursed through my veins. Without music, I felt nothing but emptiness.
I needed it. I craved it.
It was all of me, and just knowing I’d be performing soon improved my mood. None of my worries could touch me on stage.
