“No not at all, as long as you weren’t talking about me. If you have questions ask me don’t go behind my back.”
“You know, you need to chill out, it’s not always about you. I know they all look up to you,” I said, pointing to the band with my spoon, “but I’m not one of your little groupies. I don’t think you walk on water so back off. I’m here for one reason and one reason only. Got that?”
“Yeah, I do, and you fucking need to remember it too.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure you won’t let me forget it. Will you? So does this mean our truce is off? It sure didn’t last long.”
“Damn it. You’re right. Fuck. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just all fucked up over tonight.”
“You should be happy, not acting like an asshole.” Shit, Michelle must be rubbing offon me, but it’s true he’d been an asshat since I’d met him. Looking at him now though, all I saw was a hurt and lost little boy. I wanted to reach out and hug him, thank God I stopped myself before I did it. That’s all I’d have to do—the shit would’ve hit the fan for sure.
“Sorry. Maybe we should just start over?”
What would it hurt? If we could get over this hostility maybe we could actually work together for the next two weeks. “Sure.”
He held out his hand, “Hi, I’m Chaos. The lead singer/songwriter and guitar player for Raining Chaos. How’s it going?”
I giggled. He’d made a complete three sixty, and so fast my head was spinning. He was so freakin’ sexy when he wasn’t being an ass. “Great to meet you, Chaos. I’m Cynda, Cynda Pearson and I write songs. I’ve heard your album and it totally rocked.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. Why are you all surprised by that? Wrath was too.”
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t expect people to know about us yet.”
“Well you need to rethink that whole thing. You guys must get swarmed wherever you go.”
“Nope not really yet, but I’m sure by the time we’re done with this tour it’ll be happening. At least that’s what Rod keeps telling us.”
“Oh yeah, dickman.”
“Dickman?”
“Sorry, my pet name for him. He just seems like a total dick to me.”
Chaos snorted, then laughed out loud and so hard he doubled over. Everyone’s eyes were instantly locked on him, and I’m sure wondering what the hell was so funny. No shit. I didn’t think it was as hilarious as he did, but maybe it was just a release of all of his built up tension.
“Sorry…but it’s fuckin’ classic. I’m going to have to use it too. The guys will fuckin’ love it.”
“Sure go ahead, I don’t own it.”
He was still chuckling when the dork popped a grape in his mouth and started choking for real. Shit. Pounding him on the back a few times fixed it, but his face was all red and tears were streaming from his eyes, whether from laughing or choking I wasn’t sure. “Damn. Are you okay? You can’t die before the big show tonight.”
He cleared his throat. “I don’t plan on it,” he answered but his voice was all scratchy. I wondered if it would affect his singing later. They only had a few more hours until they were going on stage.
“Do you want some tea and honey? It’ll help your throat so you don’t get hoarse. At least that’s what my mom used to give me when I was young.”
“Good idea, my foster mom used to give it to us when we had sore throats too,” he answered, smiling at me as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Hey, Rod, can we get some tea and honey?”
“Yeah, just pick up any of the phones and press pound zero and you’ll get the concierge. I’m sure they can bring you some.”
Chaos winked at me. “I should have said hey dickman.”
Giggling, I shook my head. Oh he was bad, but I liked this side of him, it was more like what I’d expected. Everyone in the band looked up to him as their leader, their older brother I guess, and I was finally seeing what they saw. “If you start laughing again you’ll make it worse.”
“Okay, Mom. Just kidding. I know you’re right and I don’t want to sound hoarse tonight.” He picked up one of the phones and ordered. “They said I should have it in about ten minutes. Not too bad I guess.”
“Nope, but keep drinking water, it’ll help too. Or wait, I have a better idea.” I remembered the butterscotch candy I had in my purse. Rummaging through the overstuffed bag I finally found it. “Here, suck on this.”
