“I just need to see what this dude looks like and then we can leave,” Johnny tells me as I throw my hair up in my usual man-bun.
I always have my hair up when I’m home and down and loose during shows and press. It’s almost like a disguise, really. The fans don’t seem to know what my face really looks like, and that’s how I like it.
“Why can’t you just let it be, dude. This is stalker level behaviour.”
“Right, but it’s totally fine for Connor to creep around Alex’s neighbourhood looking for her when he didn’t know where she lived?”
“No, that wasn’t completely OK either,” I say, even though when that originally happened I was all for the idea. I must’ve been lost in the romance of it all, I guess. “But at least Alex had seemed interested before she disappeared. Becca is on a date. Withsomeone else.I’m not sure how much more not interested she could be.”
Johnny thinks for a minute, fussing with his own hair for a second. “I get that. But Iknowthere is interest. Something is holding her back and I need to figure out what it is. I’m out of ideas, so I’m hoping seeing what this guy looks like might help me figure it out. So just be my friend and come with me. And stop me from doing anything stupid. I don’t want to interrupt her date, just see what the guy looks like. And then we can go. OK?”
“OK, let’s go then. I’ll drive.” I grab my keys from the table near my front door and head out, waiting for Johnny to follow. His car isn’t even here, so I guess I’m driving whether I like it or not. “How did you get here?”
“Travis dropped me off on his way to meet a date or something. I can’t believe you still drive this old thing,” Johnny says, pointing to my 1980 Volvo 265. “It’s not exactly the type of classic car you’d expect a famous rock star to drive.”
“That’s exactly why I drive it,” I tell him, getting in and reaching over to unlock the passenger door. No automatic locks on this baby, but at least I don’t have to roll down the windows manually, too. “Who would expect me to be driving around in a station wagon, wearing this man-bun, dressing like any slob on the street? No one, that’s who. I’m as anonymous as I can be. Plus, I love this car.”
When I was a kid, I used to imagine that all the families with station wagons like this were perfect and happy. They’d eat dinner around the table every night, the dad would read them a bedtime story, and the mom and dad loved each other and the kids more than anything. I would lie in my bed at night and imagine that I was in that family, and that we were all loading up into the Volvo to go do a group activity, like bowling or camping. In my family, my dad was more likely to call me a stupid fucker than to read me a bedtime story. And forget loving us. And there was never any mention of family activities. So this station wagon is my way of remembering something good about my childhood, even if it is only the dreams I had about other people’s families.
“Fine,” Johnny sighs. “But you know this car isn’t going to get you any chicks, right?”
I give him a look; he should know better.
“Oh yeah, right. Aiden doesn’t date. I forgot.”
“I don’t want a relationship to interfere with my life. I like being in the band, I like all the volunteering I do, and I like giving away most of my money to charity. A girlfriend would definitely have opinions about those things.” Not to mention having a girlfriend greatly increases the risk of passing on my asshole father’s genes to another generation, what with the regular sex and all that. I don’t want there to be any chance that I could be like him, or that any kid of mine could be like him.
“Well, that makes it a lot harder to get your dick wet,” Johnny says. “You should try to find yourself a friend with benefits.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Whatever you say, man. I’m just saying your hand must get tired.”
“Maybe I have one of those super advanced sex robots?” Not true. “I keep her in a drawer under my bed.” Also not true.
“Fuck off, no you don’t.” He laughs. “We would all know if you had something like that.”
Yeah, he’s right. They probably would know that. There aren’t many things I keep secret from these guys. Other than the reason that I don’t date, that is. That is one thing that’s just for me. If they wanted to, it wouldn’t be too hard to find the reason. There was a ton of news coverage back when my family died in that accident. It would be easy enough to work it out from articles in the paper. At least, it would for anyone who is as paranoid and suspicious as I am.
“OK, so am I just going to keep driving around or are you going to tell me where we’re going?” It’s been a few minutes since we left my house and we’ve been talking the whole time about my lack of a love life. He still hasn’t told me where we’re headed.
“Oh, it’s that new dance club downtown. I think it’s called Redemption, or something?”
“Yeah, I know where that is.” I actually assumed we’d be headed downtown, anyway, so we’re almost there. Dates at this time of the night require a nightlife that only downtown Westborough offers. All the best restaurants and bars are downtown, so I guessed if Becca was on a date, this was where she’d be.
I pull up and park on the street opposite the club. The line for Redemption goes right down to the end of the street, but the bouncer at the door has done work for us before and we get right in.
I hate dance clubs. I have something against music that uses primarily drum tracks as opposed to real drummers, and most of what you hear in dance clubs seems to be of that variety. I can see why other people would want to be here, though. It has two levels of dance floor, both packed with writhing, sweaty, 20-somethings all trying to dry hump someone into coming home with them tonight. If you were looking to hook up, this is the sort of place you’d look.
Makes me wonder why Becca would be here on a date. That girl fits in with this crowd almost as much as Johnny does. Meaning she doesn’t fit in at all. I think the two of them have more tattoos between them than everyone else in this building combined. If she’s on a date right now, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t her idea to come here.
“This place is packed. What’s your plan?” I ask Johnny while I scan the people surrounding us. “Even with how much she’ll stand out in this crowd, it’s going to be almost impossible to find her.”
“She’s right up there,” he says, pointing to the second floor. Sure enough, there she is, standing at a table along the glass wall, keeping the second level separate from the first. Oddly enough, she’s looking right back at us.
“Dude, how did you know she was there?”
“I have no idea.” He shrugs. “I just knew.”
