Page 8 of Living on the Edge

Goingon tour with a band like Crimson Edge is a dream-come-true.

The problem is that I’m pretty sure they don’t want me here.

It all happened quickly.

One minute I’m doing my usual monthly album reviews, and the next Rich tells me he has an idea. I’ve been working forRock Harder Magazineas a contributing writer for about six months. Mostly, I do album reviews and the occasional phone interview with a record label or band manager to get music business updates. It’s pretty basic, boring stuff.

According to Rich, I’m paying my dues.

Then, out of nowhere, he comes up with the idea to embed me with Crimson Edge. A journalist writing her first major story on the road with a band on their first major tour. I don’t know how he got the band’s management to agree since the band was noticeably unimpressed with my presence.

And now they’re dragging me out to party.

It’s not like I’m new to rock and roll.

I grew up around rock stars because of my dad, so this isn’t my first rodeo. But it’s the first time I’m in a situation where I have to prove myself.

I still have my social media platform and influencer status, but this is different. In the beginning, becoming an influencer was just fun, talking about the concerts I attended while doing research on the bands. Something I did in between classes, studying, and parties. My friends thought it was a hoot.

But then people started watching, paying attention, and enjoying my take on the different shows. Even some of the bands got involved, thanking me for my thoughts, and inviting me to subsequent shows. I got to hang out backstage, take pictures, and I had more content than I had time to deal with.

It was great while I was in school, but once I started doing it full-time, I had to up my game because I need to be able to support myself. I make decent money, but after paying expenses and putting money aside for taxes, things have gotten tight now that Dad’s gone.

On top of that, I no longer have health insurance.

I used what little my dad left me for that last year, but that money is gone now, and I just don’t have much extra at the end of the month.

My mother died of breast cancer, so she insisted on me doing genetic testing which showed that I have a mutated breast cancer gene called BRCA2. Approximately forty-five percent of women with the BRCA2 gene develop breast cancer, so I have to be checked regularly.

I’ve discussed hormone therapy and surgical prevention with my doctor, but I’m just not ready to do something as drastic as a double mastectomy at twenty-four. It’s something I have to think about.

But without health insurance, all of those options are prohibitively expensive.

The job withRock Harder Magazinecould help in that department, but because I’m only a contributing writer, I’m not eligible.

This assignment could change all that.

That’s why it’s so important to me.

And I’m frustrated that the band seems less than impressed that I’m here.

It’s their first album, and their first single has only been out a couple of weeks.

Yes, they’re good. In fact, I love the album. But that has nothing to do with success. Having a feature inRock Harder Magazinecould give them visibility that even a tour with a band like Nobody’s Fool can’t give them.

Except that’s not really why I’m here. What Rich wants is for me to spy on Nobody’s Fool. Lexi Rousseau in particular because she’s pregnant. Rumors have been swirling that she might be replaced, that she’s going to retire when the baby is born, and a bunch of other uncorroborated rumors I consider nonsense. Rich wants to know the truth. He got me in the door with Crimson Edge, but his end game is totally different.

And I can’t imagine either band is going to be happy when they find out what I’m up to. I don’t like being dishonest, but everyone I’ve talked to at the magazine says this is how it’s done. If I want to make it as an entertainment journalist, and I’m beginning to warm up to the idea, I’m going to have to separate the personal and professional relationships.

Now the Crimson Edge guys have basically insisted I go to a party with them and I’m going to have to pull up my big-girl panties and pretend like I’m having fun.

The whole thing feels smarmy, but this is part of the game I have to play.

Because I promised my dad.

Because I freakin’ need health insurance.

Because this is what I signed up for.

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