Page 3 of Naughty Dreams
At this distance, without the benefit of a mic, Roy didn’t catch every word of the exchange with Moss, but enough to give him the gist. DJ’s attitude, his reluctance, was normal for most clients. No one liked having their routine disrupted, and when worrisome incidents were in the rearview mirror, the tendency was to downgrade them to “much ado about nothing” that could be handled in-house.
It couldn’t be handled in-house.
The threat assessment Roy and his team had done confirmed DJ had a stalker who was crazy, committed and smart. That meant an evolving situation requiring a detail’s full attention. The band’s regular security, led by Henry Watkins, had enough on their plate. Even when the band wasn’t on a physical stage in front of thousands, their every move was in the public eye.
The kid noticing him was good. It meant he paid attention. Moss had packed up and was headed down the aisle on the lower level, probably to make his way to Roy. After another look his way, a thoughtful cock of his head, DJ turned his attention back to his band.
He rose with a stretch and left the acoustic guitar behind. He was a giraffe, topping six feet in bare soles. The jeans hung low, but didn’t hide the nice, tight ass.
When he moved to the mic, Pete relinquished the spot and picked up his bass, while DJ and Steve retrieved their guitars and plugged the cables into their transmitters. Tal took up position at the drums, though he left the sunglasses in place. Then came the requisite fiddling with amp knobs and running through stompbox settings. When DJ got a thumbs up from Steve, he started singing.
Found you in the shadows
Waiting to give me light
But you’re the void
That will swallow me whole.
Should I run
Or dive into the darkness
And see what hell awaits me?
You’re a devil, baby.
You think you’re a savior.
You’re the end I never saw coming.
The beginning I never wanted.
Should I run
Or dive into the darkness
And see what hell awaits me?
I never wanted your attention.
I never wanted you.
Deal with it.
Deal with it.
Fucker.
Swelling high notes, low growls, and one of the most melodic screams in the business. Throughout the music world, the versatility, strength and passion of his voice was described as a meshing of Freddie Mercury, Kurt Cobain and Bon Scott. This song injected all those elements with one overriding emotion. Anger.
When he paused afterI never wanted you, DJ stepped back, glared out at the audience that wasn’t there, then came back to the mic and snarled the last lines.
Roy was leaning forward, hands clasped.Fuck.
Then DJ swung his guitar forward and kicked his rig off mute. They went from the top, Steve throwing out the powerful riff that started the song. Pete and Tal jumped in, blasting the music throughout the arena.
DJ wasn’t ignoring the threat. That made Roy’s job easier. DJ telling the faceless enemy to fuck off? Not so helpful. Roy respected it, but DJ needed to lock it down.
