Page 65 of Faithful

“Sure.” I nod.

He slows his pace and hands me what appears to be a laminated card on a lanyard. “You’ve got full access, but I advise you not to venture backstage, especially near the band’s dressing room, unless you want the news about you and Kai no longer being at odds to flood every single media outlet come morning.”

“I hear you.” I take the pass from him and hang it around my neck.

“Also”–his face takes on a pained expression–“I don’t know what the hell you two are thinking.”

I don’t respond. 'Cause it’s none of his fucking business.

We reach the end of the corridor and halt at the entrance to the main floor of the club where several crew members are putting finishing touches on the stage.

Finn’s kit is up on a riser and is covered up by dark fabric for the time being but still looks impressive as hell.

Bodhi motions at the stairs next to the bar leading up to a private balcony. “There’s a VIP area by the soundboard and another one upstairs. You’re gonna get the best view of the set from there. The floor is going to be tough tonight.”

“Yeah. I heard tonight’s show sold out in minutes when the tickets went on sale.”

“They’ll probably sell out every night,” Bodhi says with pride.

I glance up at the balcony where a row of wooden tables is lined up in front of the railing. A small group of people is already there sipping on their drinks.

“Ben’s army buddies,” Bodhi explains.

“Really? I didn’t know he was in the military.” I’m actually a little bit shocked by the fact. I thought I stalked the band enough to know everyone’s background, but then again my obsession was Kai, not the dude who replaced my sister.

“Enlisted right out of high school. Got injured before his enlistment period ended. Medical discharge.”

“That must have sucked.”

“It most certainly did. But he bounced back. He’s a good kid. A competent bass player too.”

Here, Bodhi turns to face me and meets my gaze head-on as if I owe him money or something. “If you don’t think I know who exactly your father is, bud, you’re mistaken.” He shoves a finger at my chest. “So my advice to you is to be very careful. I got everything riding on these guys. They need it. I need it. What we don’t want is another scandal.”

“There’s not going to be a scandal.”

* * *

Once the doors open up and a screaming horde of fans rushes toward the stage and spills all over the floor, I know I made the right decision to watch the show from upstairs.

I get another drink and even shake hands with one of Ben’s friends who accidentally knocks me with his elbow. He apologizes, introduces himself as Delonte, and asks who I’m here with. I tell him I’m an acquaintance of Danny’s. I also lie to him and tell him I’m local.

Filthy Magic saves me from further deception.

The band’s set is tight and loud and has definitely improved since May.

Also, Bash Spade has the chops of a real front man and I’m sure he’ll walk away from this residency with a lot more fans.

Toward the end of Filthy Magic’s set, my curiosity makes me pull out my phone and check social media.

#IodineVegas is trending on Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok.

The comment sections are blowing up, with Bash Spade getting tons of love too.

The dude deserves it. He’s a menace in the making.

My phone vibrates in my hand, alerting me to an incoming message.

K: where r u?

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