Page 77 of Hard Rock Deceit
"…can'ttellhim…"
"He already knows. Did you see his face as we left thestage?"
Damon and Ian were speaking in hushed tones. I continued up the stairs when I heard something that mademestop.
"You know what August's like," came Cameron's voice. "If we sayanything…"
The three of them went silent. I held my breath. I knew I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I couldn't make myselfwalkaway.
"So what do we do?" Ian asked. "It's not like he sucks or anything.He'sjust…"
"Not perfect anymore," Noah said. I could hear the worried frown in hisvoice.
I didn't know enough about music to tell whether or not August's playing sounded different. But if the other band members of Darkest Days said something was off, there was no way August couldn't hear the differencehimself.
I didn't want the guys to know I'd been listening in on them, so I waited until they moved on. I wanted to speak to August, but he and Seth were already on stage, microphones in hand as they explained to the audience the change in tonight'sencore.
I forced myself to concentrate on taking photos. This was an interesting one-off event that wouldn't happen again. If I didn't get photos tonight, there wouldn't be another chance. Plus, I was sure Cherry Lips would appreciate the extra publicity they'd earn by being associated with Darkest Dayslikethis.
To my ears, Seth and August both drummed their hearts out. They improvised their playing on the fly, making up the tunes as they went along, trying to outdo each other with every passing minute. Then August let loose with an unbelievable series of drum beats, his arms a blur, his eyes narrowed inconcentration.
On and on it went, furious and frenetic, until Seth had to stop, unable to keep up. He lowered his drumsticks and clapped his hands, cheering August on even as he shook his head in graciousdefeat.
August hit a final, one-handed beat, a crash of symbols reverberating through the concert hall. The audience was silent for the briefest of moments before roaring their approval. He stood behind his drum set, chest heaving, brow glistening with sweat. The triumphant smirk on his lips was pure August. He knewhe'dwon.
I waited backstage for August to appear. I didn't know what I'd say to him. Maybe congratulate him, or ask if he was okay after that display, perhaps offer another massage. If the guys had been worried about August not performing as well as he normally did, their concerns must have been put to rest. August had beenonfire.
August and Seth left the stage at the same time, with Seth clapping August on the back. Assistants quickly gathered around them, passing out water bottles andtowels.
"I owe Nate a thousand bucks," Seth complained, but there was a grin on his face. He'd clearly had the time of his life out there. Just being able to play opposite August Summers must have been a dreamcometrue.
I snapped a dozen photos of the two of them backstage before Seth gave August one last grin and hopped off to gather with the rest of his band members who were ready with both congratulations andcondolences.
"You did great out there," I told August. "You were right about destroying Seth. He couldn't even keep up attheend."
August's face was obscured as he toweled off his hair, soaking up the droplets that turned the platinum a darker blond. He hung the towel around his neck, looking backatSeth.
"What do you think, did I scare him off music forever?" Augustasked.
"No worries. He seems to be goingstrong."
"I worked up a sweat out there." He watched the stage as the crew members dismantled the equipment. "I'm going to get a quick change ofclothes."
"Will youneedhelp?"
He shook his head. August turned his head towards the artist lounge, avoiding my eyes. He started to walk off. Worried, I placed a hand onhisarm.
"Are you sure your shoulder isn'tbotheringyou?"
August glanced at me. Our eyes met, my own dark to hisice-blue.
A hazy,distantblue.
Ifroze.
He quickly flicking hiseyesaway.
"I'm fine,"hesaid.
