Rory
The show was a huge hit. The planning, the promotions, the absolute care that went into the entire production highlighted Jacine’s creative hand all over it. We added our spin and showed up in orange LA County prisoner jumpsuits. The crowd went wild, especially since we kicked off the show playing with our second biggest hit asBanshee, “Running Wild in LA.”
Then we split up into our bands and rocked the Hollywood Bowl. The energy was thick enough to get me higher than a kite. Cole ran out on stage and mimicked Jersey on the guitar, and Jersey got him back by handing him a guitar and challenged him to a guitar riff. No one, but no one, can stand up to Jersey on the guitar, and Cole is a bassist anyway, so Cole got his head handed to him. But in the end, the crowd cheered wildly. Kane shook Jersey’s hand, and Jersey gave him a brotherly hug making a lie of the truth that they hated each other.
It was a beautiful thing.
My group went on first, then Cole’s, then Jersey’s. The concertgoers were encouraged to place their vote for the best band through their phones with the idea that the winner would play the last set. On either side of the stage, the displayflashed the tallies as they rolled in. So Cole, Jersey, and I stood backstage toweling our sweat waiting for the results. Jacine stood near us, and I swear I felt her eyes at the back of my head. I was about to turn my head when Jersey did first.
“Come on, girl. Time to take your bows.”
“What?”
Jersey pulled her hand and Cole and I exchanged glances. Not about to get left out we ran onstage too. Jersey took the mike in his hand.
“Turn off the tally boards,” he yelled on the darkened stage. A spotlight turned on him, and everyone stared at Jersey.
“Bring up the lights on my friends,” he said, and as some poor light engineer fumbled with the computer settings, spots hit Cole and me, too.
“Do we need anyone to tell you who the best band is? No! You know which grabs your heart. There is no best band. But there are such things as the best people. And they are on the stage right now.”
“Wise words, my friend,” I said into a mike, and my voice boomed over the loudspeakers.
“Dys, you dog,” said Cole. I swear he was about to cry.
“And then there are the people that support us. For one, we’d like to thank Tobias Marshall, the man that kept our asses out of jail for our stupidity. Tobias, come out on stage and take a bow.”
Shell-shocked Marshall walked out on the stage and Jersey, and Cole raised his hands and then pulled him into a theatrical bow.
When the crowd died down, Jersey turned to Jacine.
“And let’s give a hand to the best-damned PR person in the world, the person responsible for us being here tonight, Jacine Alexander of Alexander and Wells. Give it up to Jacine!”
Jacine blushed as the crowd applauded, whistled and stamped their feet. It took a while for them to settle.
“And to show you who the best band is, Cole, Rory and I will play this last song, together as we used to in Banshee.”
Jacine tried to leave the stage but Jersey grabbed her arm.
“Oh no, you are the one we are dedicating this song to. Tobias, make sure she doesn’t leave.”
Curiously, she shot Marshall a cold look as he wrapped his arm around her waist, but there was no time to suss that out. We needed to end this show because we had three road crews waiting to load up our shows and no time to screw around without incurring extra expenses.
Shoot me. I keep track of that shit.
I climbed the pedestal to my drum kit and pounded out the initial beats of“Ever.” Jersey took up the soulful opening rift, and Cole began to sing staring right at Jacine.
If you ever need a friend,
Someone to help you tie loose ends,
The one who’ll send you roses,
And watch the stars with you,
Call me.
I’ll be there always and ever.
