Page 68 of Dark Room Junkie

Marco and Lukas were loudly discussing some bands I didn’t know, tuning their instruments as they did. I managed to take a few photos of them without them noticing, then Lukas flipped me off and stuck out his tongue, while Marco made a face. Smiling, I moved on, photographing Chris, then Ramon, who was doing some finger exercises to relax. And finally, I reached Noé, although I wasn’t standing directly beside him. In fact, I was fifteen feet away from him on the other side of the room.

He reclined on the couch, dressed in tight jeans, black boots, a Slipknot band shirt, and a leather jacket, tapping his foot to the music. His hair was loose, falling over the black leather and almost touching the floor. All of this contrasted beautifully with the white limestone wall. This was how I remembered him from the gigs at Hyde—reserved, introspective, and quiet. There was so much more to him than what he wore on the outside with his confident and charming smile.

Suddenly, he turned his head in my direction and looked at me. I realized that this moment was unique, so I pressed the button. With a smile, I tried to play off the situation, but he abruptly stood up and left the backstage room through another door. I watched him leave, slightly puzzled.

“You scared him off!” Marco laughed, and the others joined in.

“Scared him off? I don’t understand.”

“The man has stage fright.”

“Oh ... I see, then ...” I couldn’t apologize now. And even if I could, what for? He couldn’t even accuse me of getting too close to him. Paparazzi-style would have been different. They wouldn’t have kept a fifteen-feet distance. I rubbed my forehead and sat down on the now-empty couch.

“Here!” Ramon said, handing me a beer.

“I hope I wasn’t ... too intrusive.”

“Oh, come on, he’ll come around.”

“Or I’ll find him,” Marco announced solemnly.

And that was what exactly happened. When the band wanted to go on stage, there was still no sign of Noé. Marco went to look for him, and when they returned to the backstage room, everything happened very quickly. Noé threw his phone on the couch and followed the guys out onto the stage. I stood there completely perplexed, marveling at the change he had undergone. When he grabbed the microphone and greeted the audience with a distorted scream, there was no trace of restraint whatsoever. Noé was back in his element, moving smoothly like a predator, singing with a strong voice, and engaging with the audience. As Marco had once said, “He was the natural frontman.” I couldn’t wait to take photos of him and the band.

To avoid getting in their way, I stayed at the edge of the stage and on the side. I couldn’t help but notice how Noé, unlike during the band rehearsal, stepped it up a notch by openly flirting with the women in the front row and wasn’t too proud to ditch his leather jacket in a sexy-looking strip.

He knew exactly what he was doing, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was putting on the show partly for me. Even though our eyes rarely met conspicuously, it was precisely these brief moments that revealed more than he probably wanted. Behind his tough metalhead mask, I saw that my presence alone irritated him. On one hand, it gave me a somewhat good feeling, but since I didn’t want to distract him unnecessarily, I switched into photographer mode and hid behind my camera. I changed positions a few times, took some pictures from the soundboard, and moved closer to the stage again. When I changed a few settings on the camera, someone nudged me gently from the side.

“Alex! Hi!”

“Tom!” I said, surprised. “You’re here too?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed, leaning closer to my ear. “Couldn’t make it to the warm-up gig, so I didn’t want to miss the album launch.”

I nodded, glancing past Tom. He was here with Pablo, the drummer of the Lighteners. Pablo was the epitome of restraint. I had never heard him speak, but he was polite, raised his hand, and nodded at me, which I returned.

For a moment, I stood next to Tom, unsure of what to say. There was actually nothing to say, but I felt like an opportunity was being handed to me on a silver platter because, as far as I knew, Noé and Tom were very close. Tom was watching the concert, but when he turned to me again with a serious and almost piercing gaze, I swallowed nervously.

“Ask me!” he urged.

I wasn’t sure if maybe it would have been better to just leave. But I couldn’t. My body was frozen, and my breath caught in my throat.

“How much do you already know?”

A smug grin crossed his face, and he shook his head. “Probably more than you think. I wouldn’t have pegged you as a cokehead, Alex.”

So straightforward?

“I quit,” I muttered.

“When? Yesterday?”

I realized that no matter what I said, Tom was on Noé’s side, and to him, I was nothing more than a junkie. “You don’t know me,” I retorted. “But from the looks of it, you’ve already labeled me.”

Tom’s features softened, and he seemed understanding. With a probing look, he glanced at me. “You’re right. I’m sorry. That was ... arrogant. But you have to understand...”

“I’ve already figured it out,” I interrupted him. “He’s clean. And when someone like me shows up, then I’m the risk here.”

Tom nodded silently.

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