Page 21 of Half Notes and Highlights
“You get used to looking over your shoulder. I’m always aware of my surroundings.”
The door opened and one of the bodyguards stuck his head inside the car. “All good, boss. It’s quiet.” He stepped aside to allow Ethan to exit, and Tyler followed. Four extremely largemen in black suits escorted them into the venue, but Tyler didn’t see the necessity. There weren’t many people milling about and those that were had been blocked from approaching by a barricade about fifty feet behind the car.
The backstage area looked exactly like what you’d see in a movie. It was dark and a million people were scurrying around at a brisk pace, all engrossed in getting their respective jobs done. Tyler followed Ethan down the long corridor, where he almost got run over by a couple of guys moving large black cases on a dolly, and then they stopped in front of a black door.
“Is this the green room?” Tyler asked, sounding as if he knew what he was talking about, but only relying on TV’s interpretation of the backstage area.
“Yeah. We all have our own dressing room, but this is where we hang out while we wait for the show.”
The green room was everything Tyler expected—once again, another scene out of a movie. Beautiful men and women milled about, drinks were everywhere, and the music was loud. No one was having sex on the couch, but who knew what was going on in the bathroom? “Do you know all these people?”
“No. It clears out once we leave for soundcheck. Most of these people are groupies who have backstage passes. But we can hang out in my dressing room. We don’t have to stay here. I just want you to meet my friends first.”
A man wearing a Five Finger Death Punch T-shirt came running up to Ethan looking frazzled. It was Paul Landry, the band’s tour manager. “It’s about time you got here,” Paul huffed. “Soundcheck is in 15 minutes.”
“I was just waiting for Tyler.” Ethan placed his hand on Tyler’s lower back. “Remember Tyler? He’s the hairstylist who fixed my hair.”
Paul’s brows pinched together as he studied Tyler, most likely unaware that Ethan and Tyler had kept in touch. “Oh. Yeah,”Paul replied after a moment. Then someone called his name from across the room, and he huffed and took off.
“He seems like a ball of fun,” Tyler mused.
“Yeah. He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s stressed to the max on a daily basis.” Someone behind Tyler caught Ethan’s eye, and he raised his chin and waved them over.
The guy wasn’t much taller than Tyler’s five foot, six inches, but not as tall as Ethan’s almost six-foot frame. He had sandy blond hair that came down to his shoulders and looked as if he didn’t bother to brush it after he woke up. But it worked on him.
“This is Tyler,” Ethan said, pride emanating from his dark eyes. “Tyler, this is Harris.”
“A pleasure.” Tyler extended a hand daintily while giving Harris a wide smile. “I take it you’re the drummer? Unless that’s not what I think it is sticking out of your back pocket.”
Harris shook Tyler’s hand and smiled. “How’d you get a look at my back pocket? I approached from behind you.”
Tyler covered his smile with the tips of his fingers. “Caught me staring. I saw you from the back as soon as I walked in.” He gave Ethan a guilty smile. “Don’t worry. Your buns are better.”
Harris acted offended. “Wait a minute. That’s not fair. You’re partial. Maybe we should conduct an independent study to determine who’s got better buns.”
“We can post a contest on Insta!” Tyler loved creating content, and a best buns contest between two hot members of Wolf Pack would drive his subscribers wild.
“You’re on.” Harris took a swig of beer. “I like this guy,” he told Ethan with a smile and pointing the bottle at Tyler. “Catch me after the show, and we’ll put up a post.”
“I’m not posting my ass on Instagram,” Ethan protested.
Tyler clucked his tongue. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.”
“Afraid you’re going to lose?” Harris taunted.
“Not a chance.” Ethan swept the room with his eyes. “Where’s Wolf?”
“He’s around. If I see him, I’ll send him over.” Harris glanced down at his bottle. “I need to get another beer. Catch you guys later.”
“Is it usually this crowded before a show?” Tyler asked.
“Yeah,” Ethan replied. “People are always in and out.”
“You mean I finally get to meet the guy you can’t stop talking about?” a guy called out as he headed straight for them.
Tyler assumed it was Wolf, but it was Marshall, the band’s guitar player, who introduced himself and greeted Tyler with a big hug. The guy had huge biceps and almost crushed Tyler under his bear-like embrace.
“Easy.” Tyler squeezed one of Marshall’s thick arms. “You could snap a spine with these things.” Tyler eyed Marshall’s broad chest and bulky frame. “Seriously, what are they feeding you?”
