Page 49 of The Roadie
He smiled as he walked toward her and took her in his arms. “You were already a badass.”
His makeover apparently only consisted of changing into an Immortal Angel T-shirt, and she tugged on the hem. “This is it? That’s your makeover?”
He shrugged. “I’m already tattooed. And they liked my beard. My hair is too short to do anything with. I don’t think there was time to dye it a funky color. So, I guess this is it.” He smiled coyly. “Not punk rock enough?”
“Punk rock is about attitude and not conforming to society’s standards.”
“I’ll just have to fake it then. What about you?” he asked. “Are you really a rebel after all?”
She thought about her answer, because she was really a mixture of the two, but never let many people see her wild side. Sometimes, she wondered if it still existed. Before she could answer, someone with an earpiece escorted them into the center of the crowd while Immortal Angel performedSex & Greedfor the umpteenth time.
Kira realized that this is exactly where she wanted to be. She told herself that she wanted to get back in the pit, with Brett, and here she was! She was so excited that she pumped her fist toward the ceiling and jumped up and down. The next minute, she was suddenly in the air riding on top of the crowd. At first, she held her breath while fear made her heart race. But she remembered that there was a team of professionals carrying her toward the front of the arena, not unruly concertgoers. Stuntmen and stuntwomen, dressed like punk rockers with Mohawks and spiked leather jackets, fit in perfectly with the audience and ensured her safety. She was giddy with laughter, high with excitement and free of inhibitions as she traveled on a pillow of hands.
She looked to the left and saw Alan and Jeremy riding the same conveyor belt to the front of the stage. To her right, she saw Brett smiling and stretching his hand out toward her while floating on top of the crowd. She reached for him, and their fingers interlocked for several seconds before they were pulled apart and deposited on the arena floor between the stage and the railing. Still laughing, they held hands and ran down the side aisle. They stopped at the back of the venue, and she fell into Brett’s arms. Her cheeks ached from wearing a grin that felt as if it were about to split her face in two. “That was awesome! I have so much fun when we’re together.” She glanced at the crowd. “That used to be me in there, headbanging and throwing my fist in the air. I never missed a concert, and I always had to be at the center railing.” She exhaled. “Then I graduated college and became a corporate executive and I spend my nights buried in paperwork.”
“What are you talking about? You still go see bands all the time.”
“Yes. But I see them differently. I’m not rocking out and tossing back drinks like I used to. I’m listening. Watching with a different eye. Don’t get me wrong, I love discovering talent and offering people the opportunity of a lifetime. I love watching their eyes light up and changing their lives. But I forgot how to balance fun and work, and work took precedence. Then I met you and now I want to make time for fun.” She glanced at the crowd and her eyes widened with excitement. “And I am!” She took his hands and brought them to her chest. “I decided I’m going to cut back on my hours, so we can spend more time together.”
He was quiet, deep in thought. Then he nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it too. I’m not going on these year-long tours with Bulletproof anymore. We can’t have a serious relationship if I’m on tour with them for eight months out of the year. I can’t commit to that now that you’re in my life.”
“But. . . that’s your job.”
“I know. But they do short tours too. And festivals. And guest spots. I can always pick up work with other bands. I’m not exclusive to Bulletproof.” He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I told you. I’m going to figure out how to make this work, and I think we’re one step closer to making that happen.”
