Page 38 of Under the Ink

So long as kept his hands to himself.

WILKES-BARRE, PENNSYLVANIA

JUNE 15

They’d only been on tour for a week, and already Sage was remembering the things hedidn’tlike about it. Sure, he loved performing and he didn’t mind travel. Meeting fans—and groupies—was the highlight, of course.

Everything else, though…some of the shittiest sleep ever. Even though he’d told Naomi she’d get used to the bunks—which was true—it still couldn’t compare to his own bed at home. And staying in some of the luxurious hotels along the way that they’d booked quickly lost its shine because laundry had to be done. Most of the guys had the hotel do it for them for an additional fee, but he could hear his mom in his head telling him he could do his own laundry, for goodness’ sake.

And she was right, of course. The one time he’d had a hotel do his laundry, one of his shirts had gone missing.

In retrospect, he was pretty sure a groupie had walked off with it.

Still, it was no longer a chance he wanted to take. Even though his onstage clothing appeared to be casual and possibly chosen without much thought, it had been carefully selected. He made sure helookedlike a rock star, and one who looked like he belonged in Shock Treatment. It wasn’t anything outrageous like some bands, where they almost had a uniform—but his clothes fit in.

Then, of course, other issues with road life included the lack of privacy. Sure, there were stolen moments alone but most of the time everybody was in everyone else’s business. There was no getting around it. Even though he genuinely loved every person involved in the process, by the end of a long tour, he was sick of them all.

And the feeling was mutual.

Another thing he loved about touring was the food—but he also knew he’d be tired of it by the end like every fucking thing else.

But this sensation of malaise…of discontent and weariness—that wasn’t supposed to hit until much farther in—like months from now. Why the fuck was he feeling this way already?

Was it because Jimmy wasn’t here? And, even though the other roadies knew the girls he liked and had done a decent job so far, was it because his partner in crime was gone?

Was he still in mourning for Jimmy?

No…it couldn’t be that. He felt more guilt over being a potential accessory in his death than he felt the man’s loss. Of course, he regretted Jimmy’s absence—but they only hung together on tour. In fact, the night Jimmy died wasn’t even supposed to happen, but Jimmy had called Sage up, knowing he was back in Winchester County, and had talked him into partying.

If he hadn’t gone, would Jimmy still be alive?

Ugh. He couldn’t think about this shit anymore.

At least they were at the venue now, and listening to the opening act filled his heart with every good feeling. Music had truly saved him in high school and it kept him alive now. Without music, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

And as far as the actual show, he was completely pumped. This particular arena sat close to ten-thousand bodies, and the venue had been sold out for a while. Crowds like this made every part of touring that he hated worth it. While he was on stage, every negative thing—not just regarding touring, but his entire life—melted away, absorbed by the music.

It was the only time he felt completely at peace.

When the opening act finished, the crowd sounded plenty warmed up for what Shock Treatment would be giving them. This band, promoting their first album, had turned out to be a good partner for them, not just because they had a similar sound but because they also had a similar energy. Once this leg was over, though, they’d be touring with other bands. And at the rock festival later in the summer, they’d meet a lot of old friends, touring partners from the past.

Sage moved out of the way while the opening band’s roadies got their equipment off stage. Now that they’d been working together for several days, both road crews seemed to be able to work together well. He was impressed at how both crews already had a flow between them.

Once the other band’s crew was done, Shock Treatment’s guys (and woman) worked efficiently to get their equipment onstage and ready. And although fans would have waited any length of time, Sage hated not capturing the momentum and energy the other band had generated—so getting up there as soon as possible was key.

Anything that took longer than the audience using the bathroom or getting another beer was death.

As he watched Naomi testing his drums, he was amazed by how smooth and efficient her actions were. Already, he could tell by the way she worked that he could trust her to make sure he was good to go.

But there was one other thing he noticed in the dim light of the arena.

The woman was fucking hot.

How had he never noticed that before?

She was thin, something hard to miss, but she was strong. The definition of her bicep was hard to see under all those dark tattoos…but in the shadows, it was easier to notice.

Focus.

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