Page 12 of Crimson Desires

I thanked Ava. Then, I headed outside.

As Ava had said, it was easy to discern which of the two tour buses was meant for the crew. The bus that Jack and the other members of Wicked Crimson rode on reminded me of a luxury camper. The bus designated for the crew was more like a Greyhound.

When I stepped on, I was met with ten sets of eyes. Most of the crew members were scary-but-affable looking guys. They wore faded band shirts and cargo shorts and had tattoos everywhere. There were also a few girls with equally intimidating appearances. Next to them, I looked like a kid straight out of church camp.

My stomach turned as I introduced myself. “Hi. I’m Aster Jennings. I’m joining the tour as Wicked Crimson’s merch attendant.”

The crew members acknowledged me with a chorus of half-hearted greetings.

After the awkward introductions were over, I headed to the back of the bus to claim a seat for myself. Each seat was built with a nook below it to store luggage. They also reclined back for sleeping.

I was already feeling a bit nervous about my ability to survive the tour. I had never been good at sleeping on the road. Worse, I hadn’t thought to bring a blanket. And the air conditioning on the bus was turned up to the maximum.

I pulled out an oversized hoodie from my duffel, slipped it over my body, and snuggled into it.

After a few minutes, Ava stepped onto the bus.

“Alright, guys! Next stop, New York!”

The crew cheered. Ava sat next to me as the bus began to lurch forward. Throughout the entire four-hour drive to the next venue, Ava went over the tour schedule with me. I knew that she was just trying to prepare me for what the next four weeks would entail, but by the end of the information dumping session, my head was spinning.

Just focus on the next thing, I said to myself. Don’t worry about two weeks from now. Worry about today. We’re going to New York. That’s exciting. This is exciting.

God. What I’d do to believe my own thoughts.

***

I had only ever seen pictures of Madison Square Garden in photos. Now that I was there, I could say with confidence that the circular-shaped venue was way more impressive in person.

The size of the venue was only exacerbated by the fact that it was empty. The show wouldn’t start for another three hours, and other than a few fans who had camped out next to the venue’s back doors with the hope of catching a glimpse of the band, the arena was a ghost town.

Ava and I stood outside the equipment truck, waiting patiently while two of the production team guys unloaded it.

Wicked Crimson’s merch took up three huge, wheeled crates. Ava grabbed one of the crates. “This is the only time I’m going to help you with this, so pay attention. If you have any questions later, feel free to ask one of the other crew members. We’re all family here, so don’t feel nervous or embarrassed to ask for help.”

I grabbed the other two crates and followed Ava through the back door of the building.

Once we got to the designated merch area, Ava showed me how to unload and set up the merch table. After getting everything arranged properly, she walked me through using the credit card reader and securing the cash box.

“That should be everything,” Ava said, stepping back to admire our work. “Alright, Aster. Let’s get one thing clear. I know you don’t listen to Wicked Crimson. Personally, I have no problem with that. But when you work at this merch table, you are Wicked Crimson’s number-one fan. You’re obsessed with Jack Maverick’s face on a T-shirt. So obsessed, that you’re willing to pay sixty dollars for it.”

“Got it, boss,” I said.

“Great. And speaking of...” Aster opened one of the boxes and rifled through it. She found a shirt with Wicked Crimson’s logo—a skeletal phoenix—and tossed it to me. “This is your uniform.”

I rubbed the soft fabric of the shirt between my fingers. It was made of good quality, thick cotton.

“Thanks, Ava. Will do.”

“Excellent. Well, I’m going to get some work done. Feel free to explore the venue, listen in to the band’s sound check, get lunch—whatever you want. Just make sure to be back at your post thirty minutes before doors open, okay?”

“Got it.”

Ava gave me a stiff double-thumbs-up. Then, she turned and marched away.

There were about three hours left until the doors opened, so I decided to explore the arena. I stashed away the cash box and headed to the main stage area.

I sat down in one of the balcony seats directly across from the stage. On the ground floor, I could see the sound engineers setting up their audio boards. The band was milling about the stage, laughing about something I couldn’t quite make out.

---