“Thanks.”
Parker’s palms were sweaty as he perched on the edge of the sofa. He hated the press with just as much passion as he detested the paparazzi.Slimy bastards with all their intrusive questions. They couldn’t care less who they hurt in their race to make a buck.Rafe gave him a reassuring pat on the knee. It was friendly rather than intimate and all too brief, but it did the trick, and Parker’s nerves settled slightly.I can do this.He took a deep breath through his nostrils and forced his fists to relax, rubbing his damp palms on his thighs.
“Tell us how HyperOctane came together,” Len asked.
“I’ll take this one,” RG said, “but it’s not much of a story to tell. I already knew Gibbo from uni. We met the other guys at the pub—a friends of friends sort of thing. Then fate intervened and we ran into each other at various live music venues around Sydney and from acquaintances became friends. One day, at a barbie at my place, we had a jam session and something just clicked.”
“And the rest was history,” Gibbo added.
“You sure were lucky to be discovered,” Len said.
Gibbo snorted. “There was no luck involved, mate. We played the pub scene for years before we got a recording contract, got a lot of people interested in our music and built up a bloody big fan base based on our live performances. Blood, sweat, and tears, but it was bound to happen.”
“Yes. Well—” Len cleared his throat.
Then followed the usual questions about the contract signing, the official launch of the band—although they’d been playing together for years—their crawl up the Aussie charts, and their musical awards and accolades.
“There was an interview a while back where you spoke about your musical influences. Can you tell me a little more about those and about the Aussie music scene?”
The guys all chipped in with answers and stories. Parker sat back and watched the interview unfold because he didn’t have much to add. It wasn’t his place anyway—he wasn’t arealmember of HyperOctane. Harvey should have been here. And suddenly, as if just thinking of his brother had conjured him up, Len took the interview in that direction.
“This isn’t the usual band line-up. We were expecting Harvey. Rumour through the grapevine is that he was injured and might never play again. Is that true?”
What the fuck?Where the hell had that come from?
“That’s not right. Yeah, unfortunately Harvey had a fall and fractured his wrist,” Parker said. “But the good news is that he’s on the mend and he’ll be back to playing in a couple of months. I spoke to him this morning, and he’s doing well, apart from missing being here on this tour, of course. He would have given anything to be here.”
Len nodded, then looked down at his notebook before meeting Parker’s eyes. “It’s an immense shame he couldn’t make it. Do you think fans will be disappointed they don’t get to hear one of Australia’s greatest guitarists? Instead they’re listening to someone relatively unknown.”
Parker’s heart plummeted.Fuck!He schooled his features. Relatively unknown? He supposed he should be grateful—he was atotalunknown. He’d been prepared to answer questions about how he came to be in the picture, stepping in because he was Harvey’s brother, but what did he say to this slant on the question? He didn’t have time to come up with much of a response and emotion drove his reply. “Harvey is extremely disappointed that he couldn’t make this tour and wouldneverwant to let his fans down. I’m sure there will be some disappointed fans, but the accident wasn’t planned. I—”
Rafe spoke up. “Parker is Harvey’s brother, Len. They’re from the same mould, and Parker has inherited the same amazing skill as his brother. We are lucky, hell, we’rehonoured, to have someone with Parker’s ability playing with us. I’m sure the fans are going to be blown away when they hear what he can do.”
Len checked his notes, obviously deciding it wasn’t worth going down the path of Parker’s lack of experience any further.Thank God.
Len looked up and asked a general question of the group. “So, what was it like coming out back in Australia?”
And here it is.Rafe stiffened beside him, and the guys glanced at each other.
“I never came out,” Gibbo said. The guys chuckled, and Gibbo looked around. “What?”
The laughter broke the tension slightly.
“Rafe, I understand you’re from the Northern Territory—the outback. Surely it was tough growing up in Australia’s Top End?”
Parker had a feeling Len was referring to growing up gay in such a harsh landscape, because that seemed to be the direction the interview was taking, and the question had been directed to Rafe, the publicly gay member of the group, but he cheered inwardly as Rafe sidestepped the question.
“They breed us tough up there. I had Crocodile Dundee as a role model.” Rafe laughed, but it wasn’t the genuine laugh Parker knew. “But seriously, I had a pretty standard Aussie upbringing and love the Territory. Although eventually I did move to Sydney to be closer to the pulse.”
“The club scene?” Len asked, eyebrow raised.
A pulse fluttered in Rafe’s temple. “Themusic scene, Len. If I wanted to pursue a career in music then Sydney was where I needed to be, and as you’ll see from our bio and from our discussion today, that’s where the band formed and developed.”
“Sure. Of course.” Len cleared his throat. “Do you have any special plans while you’re in the States?”
“Our main focus is on playing at Rocktoberfest. Such an awesome experience,” RG said. “We’re looking forward to providing some entertainment, meeting some fans—old and new— and hanging with some of our fellow bands. The festival has a bloody brilliant line-up.”
“I want to do some sightseeing too,” Gibbo added.
