I eat my cheeseburger and fries before I pack up my stuff and see to anything else I can do before I leave. The tips have been good here so far. My phone rings as I head out to my car.
“Hey.” I drop my stuff into the passenger seat.
“Cherry.” Linc breathes into the phone. He should be having the time of his life right now, but Nick is right. Linc doesn’t sound like himself. He sounds tired.
“I love you.”
“Never gets old hearing you say that. I love you too, Cherry.” It never gets old hearing him say it either. He’s the only person that’s ever said those words to me.
“Don’t you have a show you should be getting ready for?”
“I suppose. I just needed to hear your voice first. What are you doing?”
“I ate a cheeseburger and now I’m heading home.” It was the truth. I haven’t told him about the new job. He would try and send me money or worry more over me. It’s weird keeping things from him. Another reminder that things are changing.
“I’ve got to come home soon and see you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” I try to reassure him.
“You might be but I’m fucking not.” It would be a lie if I didn’t admit that a part of me likes that he is missing me so much. But I love him and will always do what I think is right for him. I know he’d do the same for me.
“We’ll see each other soon. I promise.”
“I’m going to call you when I’m done. We might be thousands of miles apart but we can still go to bed together.”
“I’ll wait up for you. FaceTime me and I’ll have a surprise for you.”
“Oh fuck, Cherry.” He groans into the phone. I knew that would perk him up. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m hiding a bigger surprise from him.
Chapter Thirteen
Linc
“Great set. Great, great set.” Treats beams as we exit the stage. Someone, I don’t know who because our entourage has grown larger in the last couple of weeks and I can’t keep track of everyone, throws me a towel. I wipe off a bucket of sweat and drape the towel around my neck.
“Excuse me,” says a roadie. His hands are full with two mic stands in each hand and a bass guitar around his neck. I jump out of the way and narrowly avoid getting mowed down by a stream of other staff members moving equipment for the next band–Three Fingers Up–to take the stage. I’d forgotten there was one more band after us. We’ve been moving up in the set list at the gigs we’ve played. For the first week, we were stuck in the middle of a show as filler, but the crowds are loud for us and a few acts have had some trouble maintaining the same energy so now we’re near the end. We aren’t close to being headliners of any event, but being second or third to the last before a huge name is damn good.
I should be flying high but I’m in this weird state of being exhausted and wired at the same time. The crowd noise boosts me up but the high never lasts. One minute, you’re the king on stage and the next, you’re just a body that needs to be moved out of the way.
Treat tells us not to get used to the high life because it can all fade quickly. Cherry was wrong about us having to pay back the hotel fees. Treat covered everything for us up until we signed to the label. He pocketed all the money from the gigs we did during that time, but it felt fair. Since then, I’ve been trying to manage it myself with help from Benjy. We’re the poorest so we’re trying to save. Nick wants to spend every last dime. It’s hard when we’re not all on the same page. Benjy and I wanted to rent a tiny apartment downtown but Nick had a hard time giving up the taste of the life that Treat introduced us to. We compromised on a two-bedroom rental about five minutes from the beach, even though it now takes an hour to get to the studio. LA traffic sucks. I think I could walk from one end of the city to the other faster than driving.
“Treat, let me meet your new boys.” An older man with a close cut gray beard wearing a suit with a pair of white Nikes strolls over.
“Good to see you, Jeff.” The two shake hands. “This is Linc, our songwriter, Benjy on bass and Nick, the drummer. Guys, this is Jeff Humphrey. He’s a venture capitalist who dabbles in music.”
“A three-piece set. I like it. Manageable numbers. What’s the plan? Singles? Opening act with some covers? You all look young. What are we thinking? Maybe some Nick at Night appearances?”