Boston sits across from me with his feet perched on the small table in the center. The table has bottles of water that I’m surprised aren’t boiling at this point and snacks. He dumps a handful of the peanuts into his hand and shoves them into his mouth all at once.
“Why do you eat like a mountain man who hasn’t seen food in weeks?” I ask, cocking my head.
“Why aren’t you and Rhyit talking?” He asks, cocking his head to match mine. I narrow my eyes at him but don’t answer.
“Exactly, mind ya business and I’ll mind mine.” He smiles and dumps the whole bag into his mouth. Peanuts fall down the front of him, landing in his lap, and I shake my head.
“Plight, you’re up in 10.” A girl with a clipboard says from the side of the tent. Her blonde ponytail stuck to the back of her neck as sweat pours down her face.
I instantly feel sorry for her, she has to run around all over the place looking for the next band while I internally complain about the heat from the comfort of the shade.
“Hey, you want a water?” I ask her, grabbing one of the bottles of water from the center of the table, extending it out to her. She steps forward and takes the water from my hand.
“Thank you!” She says, opening the cap and downing half the water in one drink. “Pistol, right?”
“Yeah, this is Boston and Rhyit.” I introduce the other non social asshats.
“Hey.” Rhyit says not looking up from the pad.
“Hi, I’m Boston.” Boston says, extending his hand to her. She shakes it and smiles at him.
“You have peanuts on your shirt.” Her eyes fall to the pile of peanuts sitting in his lap. He wipes them away quickly and shoots me a comical glare.
“I’m Andy. Well Andrea, but everyone calls me Andy.” Andy says, presenting her hand for me to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m a huge fan.”
“Oh thanks!” I exclaim.
“I actually saw you guys in Seattle a few weeks ago.” Andy says, smiling at me. Oh shit.
“What did you think?” Boston asks, putting the full charm on now that he doesn’t have a squirrel's amount of food for the winter in his lap.
“You guys were great. Would have been cool to see Bristol up there with ya.” She says, and all the blood rushes to my ears. “Oh shit, I gotta go. 7 minutes guys. Thanks for the water.” She hands the empty water bottle back to me, and I don’t need to turn around to feel Rhyit’s eyes on me.
“Why would you have been up there with us?” He asks, the first words he’s spoken all day.
“No idea. Maybe she just meant now that we’re playing together.” I shrug and play off the lie as best I can. “You guys ready?” I ask, grabbing my pink tipped sticks from their pouch.
“Yup.” Boston answers, pulling a bottle of Jack Daniels from the backpack he brought with him.
“Cheers to another great show.” He says holding the bottle up. He takes a pull and then hands the bottle to Rhyit, who is still staring holes through me. God, I can’t do this right now. Rhyit takes a pull and then hands it to me. I bring the bottle to my lips and let the liquid fire cascade down my throat.
“Cheers.” I say a little breathless. I took a much larger drink than I planned to, and for the first time all day, goosebumps rise against my overheated skin.
I wobble slightly in my boots as I make my way to my kit, the crowd loses their mind when we all take the stage, they’re pushing and swaying trying to get closer to the stage. The set list sits in front of me, taped to one of the stands that holds my kit up. Okay first song, I can do this.
“Hello Phoenix! Jesus Christ, it’s hot here!” Rhyit yells into the microphone. There has to be at least seventy thousand people in the audience, and they all look like drowned rats from the heat.
“Pistol, Pistol, Pistol!” The crowd yells in unison, and I give a quick lick across my drums.
“Yeah, she’s here!” Rhyit says with his famous smile. “Can you believe it? Who’s here for Boston?” Rhyit asks with his hand up. The girls go absolutely bonkers, throwing shit on stage, bras and panties mostly. Boston gives a quick downbeat on his bass and grabs a pair of panties from the pile. He holds them up and the screaming commences.
“Alright alright, who’s ready to have some fucking fun?” Rhyit yells into the mic. He turns to me and I nod, then he turns to Boston and he nods. I crack my sticks together and start playing. Sweat pours down my back, and I wish I wouldn’t have worn this stupid fucking skirt, my ass cheeks are slippery against the leather, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to have an accident. In between the third and fourth song, I try to adjust myself on the seat, but it’s not use. I growl in frustration, forgetting that I have a mic in front of me, and the growl was much louder than anticipated.
“You alright back there, Pistol?” Rhyit asks as he grabs the bottle of Jack from the bottom of the stand. He takes a hefty swig and swallows before turning to me.
“Great.” I say with a smile. “It’s hot as hell.” The crowd cheers, and I want to hide, I cannot believe I forgot about the mic in front of me.
“Why don’t you come up here and have a shot with me?” He asks. “Doesn’t she look a little thirsty?” The crowd yells back at him, and he turns to me, giving me a ‘your move’ expression. I scoot the stool back from the kit, and my thighs make a ripping noise as I leave the seat. That’s cute, I think sarcastically.