Page 9 of Strike A Chord

“Great show. Here’s your pay.” The manager handed Jason an envelope. “Let me know if you want in the rotation again.” I had no idea what our pay was and even though I needed the dough, I was thankful for the chance to prove myself.

“Tomorrow night is a big one for us.” We’d just finished loading the vehicles when Jason struck up a conversation with the three of us. “Sal from Masterson Management will be there.”

“Oh man, the last time Easton and Diamond went to a show it was a total train wreck. Dude,” Marley turned to me, “please don’t fuck up or walk off stage.”

“I don’t plan to, but Sal does know I’m your new guitarist, right?” Fucking hell, if they forgot to share that bit of information with him this could be disastrous.

“Shit, I didn’t think about that. But Maiden wasn’t signed with them until after you left, right?” Jason asked.

“Right. But now Masterson is one big, happy family with Maiden, Social, and Embrace. Don’t forget, Sal’s son not only manages all three bands but is married to Social’s drummer. I can guarantee Maiden and Social would be happiest if I was six feet under.”

“Sorry, I hadn’t thought about that. I was too hyped up when I found out he’d be there.” I could see that from Jason, he was a go-go-go guy, though his admittance didn’t solve our current dilemma. He shrugged. “Maybe just stand off to the side and say nothing?”

“Yeah, that will work so well while I’m onstage.”

“It is what is, and my ass is tired.” Nigel wasn’t thrilled with me to begin with, I’m sure this only added to the animosity. “We’ll deal with it as it happens. Later.” With that we got into our respective vehicles and left.

Fuck, if there ever was a time for a drink, that was now.

Chapter Four

Reagan

“Daniel, that looks fantastic.” He and I had come in early the last two mornings to paint the walls in the common area of the bar. Two were pretty much windows, so it hadn’t taken us very long. Step one of five thousand, but the more we did the less of a ding the budget took which left more funds for the upgrades we weren’t capable of tackling on our own.

“I know bars are ideally dark and dingy, but I have to say brightening the space up is so much better,” Daniel said as he proudly took in our hard work.

“Agreed, Daniel.” We’d chosen a color that wasn’t quite white nor brown. More of an earth tone. Had we brightened it too much our customers likely would’ve complained it hurt their eyes after a couple of drinks.

We had half a dozen tables out in storage in various stages of disrepair which I planned to tackle next or throw away and replace. “Let’s clean up.” Daniel and I had just enough time to get home and shower only to turn around and come right back to open the bar on time. Good thing neither of us had much of a social life. Every ceiling fan ran on high speed, and I brought in a couple of portable fans from home in the hopes the walls would dry fast.

“Looks good in here,” Della, one of our evening servers, said as she walked in. I was behind the counter setting up the register.

“Thanks.” There were four of us in total who worked at the bar. Myself, Daniel, Della, and Holly. Della and Holly mostly worked weekends and now show nights but if the forward momentum kept up, I’d end up hiring another full-time body for the floor tables.

“Did you guys hear that Chaotic Abyss got a slot at El Corazon tonight?” Della nonchalantly mentioned as she secured her apron. “As the opening act so they go on first.”

“Holy crap, that’s insane. Good for them.” Daniel sliced the limes and added them to the container. “I hope this gets them noticed.”

“What time exactly is first?” Should I go? Do I play it cool and hang back? Where is Reagan and what have you done with him? How did I go from barely tolerating to wanting to watch Josh play?

“In an hour. I would recommend taking an Uber if you’re going. Saturday night you won’t find any parking.” Della wandered off to take orders. The bar wasn’t packed, we had just opened but there were still more bodies than we’d had two weeks ago.

“Look, boss,” Daniel gripped my shoulder. “You and Josh have been dancing around whatever this love-hate, do we or don’t we vibe you’ve got going on for years. Go watch. Stay and have a drink or grab a meal with him. Talk to him outside of this place. We’ve got this.”

“What? No, we’re not…” We’re not what? What exactly was I about to protest? The knowing grin on Daniel’s face said far more than I cared to admit. “I’ll go on one condition—you call me if the place gets packed and I’ll come right back.”

“Deal. But don’t forget Holly comes in at six so we’ve got it handled. Josh deserves to have someone there for him. I heard the rumbles the other night. People need to learn to let shit go and move on.” Boy, Daniel hit that one right on the head. Josh more than paid the price for what he did. I read every story I found about him, each with the same take on the incident—that was a long ass time ago. The more I read, the more intrigued I became. This was Josh’s second chance and if having a friend by his side pushed him forward, I was more than willing to be that person for him.

“Thanks. I’ll be back as soon as it’s over.” The driver pulled up as I stepped outside. As expected, the Seattle traffic was a nightmare and what should’ve been a twenty-minute drive took forty-five. I’d texted Jason along the way to let him know I’d be there, and he said he’d put me on the list. Glad for that considering the line to get in wrapped around the perimeter fencing.

The security guards manning the entrance side-eyed me as I bypassed the line. “Can I help you?” Though the massive man posed that as a question, I easily read between the what the fuck do you think you’re doing lines.

“Yes, I’m Reagan Mills. Jason Stallworth put me on the list.” The silence chilled as one guard turned his back on me and returned to pat down each patron and check their tickets as they entered while the other walked away. Were they verifying what I said, or had they left me here to wait?

I swear a minimum of thirty people were let in before the other guard returned and commanded, “Follow me.”

Through the dimly lit corridor we went and around to the back where the bands were. It was standing room only on both sides of the stage and it was hard to see past the bodies in front of me. As the guard pushed his way through, I stayed close and nearly slammed into him when he came to an abrupt stop. I peeked around the mountain of muscle and there stood Jason and Josh. Josh’s eyes lit up when he saw me, and he actually smiled, albeit briefly. Made the long wait more than worth it. “What’re you doing here?”

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