“Casey, Andi could have been killed. I mean… she’s your cousin,” Alana berates, and Casey snorts.
“At least she would have gone out in an epic… flames-of-glory-style rock ’n’ roll performance,” she yells, doing the rock ’n’ roll sign with both hands and sticking out her tongue.
I try to hold back my giggle, but I can’t fight it for long.
“Casey, did you use before the show?” Kristy asks, raising her brow.
Casey opens her eyes wide and swipes at her nose while nodding. “No!” she smiles.
I roll my eyes, and Alana groans. “That would explain that crap then.”
“Explain what?” Casey asks as Andi and Luke rush down the stairs toward us.
Andi looks like shit. Her hair is a disheveled, sweaty mess, and her bass is completely shattered from the fall. It’s almost hanging in a long line from her hand. She’s going to be pissed.
“Explain what?” Casey asks again, but we continue to ignore her as we all move in, surrounding Andi and Luke.
“Shit, Andi! You okay?” I ask.
She turns up her lip, looking straight at Luke while ignoring me. “Luke, this shit has got to stop. Dennis has to go. No ifs, no buts, no damn maybes. You got it? Our lighting’s been shit for the entire tour, and tonight… this?” Andi scrapes her fingers through her hair. “My fucking bass is screwed. Gone. Demolished beyond repair. All because of that fucker not being able to sort his motherfucking shit out. You hired him. You make him gone. Or I swear I’ll put a hit out on him…”
She pauses for a breath. “And you know me, Luke, Iwilldo it. Iwillsort that little weasel out. He’s ruined tonight’s show. What the fucking hell are we going to tell our fans? There better be some sort of epic press release following this, and we will have to come back at the end of the tour to do another free show for the fans. We’re at the damn height of our careers here, and this epic shit show tonight is only going to damage us…”
She rolls her eyes for effect. “Fix. This,” Andi demands, pushing his chest hard, making the ever-stern-faced Luke take a step back as she throws her broken bass to the ground dramatically and storms off, pushing roadies out of her way as she goes.
Gnawing on my bottom lip, I take a deep, calming breath and look at Luke. His sweeping short blond hair sits in waves on his head, a little messier than usual, making his surfer good looks appear like he’s been windswept at the beach rather than saved a life at a rock concert. His broad shoulders fit perfectly into his suit, which he pairs with a white shirt, no tie, making him all business but cool at the same time. His jawline is strong, and his bright blue eyes are like the depths of the ocean, cool and calming for a man who’s intimidating and oozes confidence.
However, right now, his cool, calm façade is cracking, and I see the anger lying beneath. He’s pissed about what’s happened tonight, and I don’t blame him. There’s no doubt this is damaging—for him, for us, for the tour. Negative publicity is notgood publicity at this point. This crap makes us appear like a totally unprofessional unit when, in fact, we’re the opposite.
We met Luke four years ago when we opened for Recoil, an American rock band just breaking out in Australia. Luke was their agent at the time, and he ended up managing us, too, especially after I co-wrote a song with Recoil’s frontman, Danger. That song, “Lunar Eclipse,” blew up. Triple platinum in seven countries. That was the turning point forLuminous.
Recoil went back to the States not long after, but Luke stayed behind. He had a wife and two kids here, and he couldn’t leave. So he stuck with us, helped buildLuminousinto what we are now.
Then, two years ago, he split with his wife. It was messy, but his kids were getting older, twelve and ten now, and suddenly, Luke had the freedom to travel.
We wouldn’t be where we are today without him.
We need to fix this.
He needs to fix this.
And fast.
I need to ease some of Luke’s tension if anything is going to be handled professionally. The last thing we need is for him to lose it and add fuel to the already blazing fire of this disaster. Taking a calming breath in, I know a method that always works for me, and for others when I do it to them. So it can’t hurt to try.
I step up to Luke and place my open palms on his chest. He looks down at me, opening his eyes wide like I’ve lost my mind, but I smile calmly and take in a long, steadying breath. “Take in a deep breath, Luke, and look into my eyes.”
He slumps his body. “Effa… look… you’re great, and I love that you’re so in tune with nature and the elements and what-the-hell-ever other stuff you’re into, but your hippy shit isn’t going to work on me—”
“Look in my eyes, Luke. Take a deep breath in through your nose… humor me.”
He rolls his eyes as Casey giggles beside me. But then he stares into my eyes and pulls in a deep breath.
Pressing my palms harder into his chest. “Positive healing energy is flowing through my hands into your body. Take in a deep breath, aaannnddd hold.” He inhales, holding it. “Aaannnddd out.”
Luke exhales and raises his brow like he’s curious about something. I smile, nodding my head slightly, and remove my hands from his chest as he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Did that actually just work?” he asks, raising his brow.
