Page 3 of Mason Wilder
Tessa could barely contain her enthusiasm as she took in the reception Mason received. She couldn’t have been prouder if she was the recipient of the over-the-top applause that was shaking the walls right now. She stepped in front of the mic and extended her arm toward Mason. “The phenomenal Mason Wilder.”
Humbled, he waved his hand at her and lowered his eyes.
“How did you know to do that,” she asked, stepping away from the mic stand so the arena wasn’t privy to their conversation.
As he shrugged his shoulders, the dimple in his cheek caught a shadow from the overhead lights. “Drumming is all I know. It’s what I do. No matter what, playing the drums chases away all my troubles. I figured it’d work for the audience too.”
She tilted her head to the side as she contemplated his simple yet profound explanation. He was right. The beats he created filled a person’s soul. The boom of the bass drum drove the blood through your veins. It made your chest vibrate and pumped energy into your heart. When Mason hit the drums, everyone felt it.
“I think you guys better play something to keep the audience occupied,” Mason stated, his smile never wilting. “I need a five-minute break.”
“Take all the time you need, bro,” Lucas said. “I’ll handle it.”
Mason nodded in thanks and grabbed two bottles of water from one of the amps. As he walked off stage, he poured one bottle over his head and then put the other to his lips
Lucas was entertaining the audience with an insane arrangement on his Les Paul. Tessa watched her brother, almost as proudly as she had watched Mason. Long blond hair falling over his shoulders, Lucas commanded the legendary Les Paul, which was as famous as their father. Tommy Blade had handed down his prized Les Paul to Lucas right before Prodigy’s promotional tour over a year ago, and it continued to make magic with its second-generation owner.
Mason returned to the stage but instead of climbing onto the drum riser, he sauntered over to Tessa. He took a sip of water and wiped his face with a towel, then jutted his chin at Lucas who was on his knees at the apron blowing up the sound system with power chords. “Your brother is something else. Man, he’s incredible.”
“He is,” Tessa agreed. “But so are you. And so is Sindy. I’m honored to share the stage with such amazing musicians.”
Mason turned his head a quarter of the way so he could look at her. “Don’t sell yourself short, Tess. You got more talent than any of us.”
She choked on a laugh, taken back at the over-the-top compliment. “Yeah, right. No one matches your talent, Mason, least of all me.”
He pursed his lips and eyed her playfully. “Are you kidding? You run the band, play the bass like a lunatic, sing your face off, write killer lyrics and entertain the crowd. Sometimes, I think we could all leave the stage and you could carry the show by yourself.”
She was flabbergasted, unable to form a coherent reply at not just the enormous compliments, but by the utmost sincerity in his voice. Before she could regain her composure to at least thank him, Lucas finished his explosive guitar solo and Mason ran behind his drum kit. He clacked his sticks together and the stage erupted into the fast, hard beat ofConfessions of A Rock Chick. The four of them were so in sync, their timing so spot on, that they transitioned into the song flawlessly.
Rock Godfollowed, thenFast Forward.Confetti rained down as they finished the night withFree Ride.
“Thank you, Cincinnati!” Tessa threw the mic to the floor with a dramatic thump, mimicking her father’s signature move. Angel Garcia handed down not just his killer vocals, but his dramatic stage presence, as well. She left her bass with the stagehand and approached the apron to wait for her bandmates to join her in a final bow.
Her brother threw a handful of guitar picks into the audience, which caused a near riot from a surge of screaming girls, then slung his arm around her neck.
The color of Sindy’s bright red hair flared under the lights as she leaned over to set her Strat down in the guitar stand, and she joined Lucas and Tessa. They waited for Mason, who decided to end the night with another impromptu drum solo. Tessa watched him for the second time tonight, arms flying in a blur of tattooed muscle, his fluid movements delivered with his signature killer smile, conveying how much he loved his craft.
“He’s such a showoff,” Lucas said, smiling at his best friend.
“If ya got it, flaunt it,” Tessa replied. And Mason definitely had it. At last, he finished by bringing his sticks down on his cymbals a half dozen times, sending a shimmer throughout the arena. It punctuated the close of the show and the end of seven months on the road.
Tessa was still filled with adrenaline from tonight’s final show as she entered the shower in her suite at the Millennium Hotel. A celebration in their honor was being held in the ballroom downstairs, sponsored by the tour’s promoter. It would be filled with music journalists and industry professionals, all vying for an interview, as well as a select list of VIP invite-only ticketholders. Although she would never tire of the limelight, in a way, she was looking forward to the normalcy of life again now that the tour was behind her. A short unexpected laugh bubbled from her throat. Her life was far from normal. Growing up with world-famous polyamorous parents provided her with a life different than most.
She stepped from the shower, wrapped her hair in a terrycloth towel and tied the complementary fuzzy robe around her waist. She wore her own slippers though. Someone knocked on the door to her room as soon as she exited the bathroom, and she knew it was Sindy. “Be right there!” she called. She opened the door without checking the peep hole, and found Mason staring back at her. His jeans were loose, his tank top tight. It left the upper part of his chest on display, as well as the round muscles of his shoulders and arms.
“Hey,” was all he said.
Surprised at his presence in the doorway to her hotel room, she tied her robe a little tighter and placed her hand on her cheek, embarrassed at her appearance. “Mason, I thought you were Sindy.” She touched the towel on her head. “I just got out of the shower.”
Mason let out a soft chuckle. “I can see that. Cute robe and slippers.”
She unraveled the towel and squeezed the water out of her hair with the absorbent terrycloth, attempting to make it look halfway decent. It didn’t matter that he’d seen her a million times in her pajamas, fresh out of bed in the morning. He’d never seen her moments after stepping from the shower wearing a short robe with nothing underneath, while they were alone together. It made her feel as if she was on display in a very provocative way.
He glanced down at her legs and she immediately felt a shimmer across her flesh. “I got this drum beat in my head.” He tapped his temple. “I can’t get rid of it. I thought we could go to the tour bus and I could play it for you on my electronic drum pad. I want you to tell me what you think, maybe even add a little bassline to it. It might be the start of a song.”
Tessa tilted her head to the side, wondering when the hell he had time to think up a new rhythm. “Did you come up with it in the last 15 minutes since we’ve been at the hotel?”
“Yeah. In the shower. That’s the best time. The tapping of the water on the tile always gets in my head. It makes me want to make music. Just like the way you always gotta sing in the shower.”
