I interrupted her while she was in the middle of a date. She met this guy; Fraser I think she said his name was. I don’t know why it knocked the wind out of my sails. Maybe because it’s taken a long time for her to get to this point. She’s thirty-two and hot, so why wouldn’t she date?
I tried to stay cool. I don’t think I did a good job, because she ended the call in a hurry. I’m not sure if I was coming on all over-protective. Maybe I’ll call again soon to check in. I could do with talking things over, and Angie has been my sounding board ever since I got married.
Tonight, the band has one last obligation for this tour. A kind of farewell show back at Madison Square Garden, but with a celebrity audience, a televised interview beforehand,and questions from the fans. After today, I can get my head together. I want to chew the fat with Angie, but I also want to call her first and make sure she’s okay. I know I won’t settle until I know if her date was a success or not, and weirdly, I hope she hated every minute of it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
TOMMY
Brett is late again.His ‘couldn’t give a shit’ attitude is getting worse. The label isn’t happy, and Dani is going nuts. She’s on the warpath, and it’s a brave man who pisses her off.
“We can’t wait any longer for that prick,” Dani shouts across the stage.
“We can’t practise without him, Dan. What are you suggesting?” Ash calls.
“Get a roadie to fill in. I’m sure you’ll make someone’s day, week, year, whatever, but we’ve got to get going. We’re already well behind schedule because of this TV special. We’ve got every element of tonight’s show set out and I don’t need to tell you it has to run perfectly.”
Ash calls across the arena, “Can someone find Vance? He can do it.”
Vance has been with us for years. That guy can play any of our songs backwards if need be.
We’re into our third song when Brett turns up. There’s no apology and he’s in a shit mood.
He struts across the stage until he reaches Vance, then glares into his eyes. “You’re in my spot, man.”
“I’m just doing my job,” Vance answers, cool as a cucumber. He might work with the band, but he answers to the management team.
“What the fuck, Brett? You’re nearly two hours late.” Dani’s voice echoes around the space as she charges towards him. “Where have you been?”
He spins around to face her, with a lopsided grin on his face. “Slept in.”
“Oh, okay. No problem.” She pouts, placing one hand on her hip while her foot taps out of control.
Apart from the background noise and Dani’s foot going wild, there’s relative silence on stage while Vance passes Brett his guitar. I notice the way Brett stares Vance out until he leaves the stage completely. Ash, Max, and I glance at each other, shaking our heads in disgust. We all agree on this one. Brett is being a dick.
To be honest, I’ve always found him difficult, and Ash had his problems in the past with him too. As for Brett and Max, they’ve been buddies forever, but even Max is getting pissed off. Slowly, Brett is becoming disjointed from the rest of the band. We could put it down to the stress of the tour, but I think it’s something else. I just don’t know what.
Dani is about to let rip, and if Brett knows her at all by now, he’s expecting it. I step in front of her before shit gets too heated.
“Dani, before you explode, just consider my kid. He’s in this stadium somewhere, with his nanny. Try to keep it PG, or at least off the mic.”
She looks at me sideways, then calls over to the sound engineers. “Shut the mics down, boys. Two secs.”
I appreciate the gesture. Ozzie doesn’t need more negative energy. He gets enough at home.
The engineer signals the mics are off by giving a thumbs-up, and we brace ourselves.
Her eyes narrow and focus on our lead guitarist. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Dani says, raising a brow, waiting for his response, but Brett remains silent, bowing his head.
“Do you realise where we are today?” Dani continues.
“Jesus, Dani. Cut it out,” Brett finally answers.
She smirks sarcastically and walks in a small circle around him. “Cut it out,” she repeats, nodding to herself at first, then stops in her tracks, looks up above, then back to Brett. “CUT. IT. OUT?”
Fuck, here we go.
“This istheMadison Square Garden.” She holds her arms out to the sides, parades around the stage, then stops in front of him. “And do you know what’s happening here tonight, Brett?”
