I breathe deeply, trying to calm myself. Am I doomed to spend my whole damn life watching my best friends have the very things I want most with the very people I want to have it all with? I know I wasn’t in love with Tammy. I realize I was in love with who she and Walsh were together. But with Mel, I feel something special, something that might really matter eventually. I’m not confusing her with something I want. I’m drawn to her. She’s someone I want to be around.
I hear Mike, who’s gone up on stage, play the opening riffs of Slave to You, and I know I’ve got to get it together. Unfortunately, that probably starts with apologizing to the asshole. The fact is that, if Mel wants Mike, beating the crap out of him won’t stop it. I wonder if she does want him or if she’s that charming and gorgeous with every man she meets. Maybe what I feel with her are my own delusions run wild. My judgment is clearly fucked, and my control is slipping.
I haul my ass off the cold, hard floor and head to the stage to try to repair a day that already feels ruined at only ten thirty a.m.
By noon, I’ve placated Mike, worked out some lighting issues, and signed off on details for the next stop on the tour. Tammy’s stomping around, giving me the evil eye, and I wonder if Mel told her about this morning. Honestly, I can’t worry about Tammy right now. She’s usually pissed at me for something and it’s exhausting. My late mother probably would have slapped me for thinking it, but I wish Tammy and Walsh would get married already and he’d knock her up so maybe she’d quit working for us.
Walsh and Colin haven’t shown up. Walsh is at an AA meeting, and Colin’s probably eating pizza and smoking weed in his room. One of the conditions of the tour was that Walsh would be given time to attend an AA meeting in each city. Tammy arranged our stops to make sure that happened, although as part of his recovery, it was up to Walsh to get the information on the meetings and set them up himself.
One thing we’ve all learned from Walsh’s recovery is that he spent too many years letting Tammy and me run his life. He was like a giant child. I orchestrated his career while Tammy handled everything else, effectively eliminating him from his own existence, and freeing him up to drink himself to death. Tammy and I had fun at that group therapy session, I can tell you. It’s tough to hear that what you thought of as loving someone was actually enabling them to destroy themselves.
These days, I stay as far from Walsh and his life as I can, and Tammy tries to control her inner boss and let him pull some of the weight on his own. I know it’s hard for her though. She’s not shy and retiring, and he’s never been super competent.
I shake myself out of my thoughts about Tammy and Walsh when I see Mel approaching where I’m sitting in the first row of seats, watching the stage as the crew sets up. I’m also doodling some new lyrics on the iPad, and I click the screen lock button quickly when she sits down next to me.
“Feeling any better?” she asks quietly.
I clear my throat. “Um, yeah, sorry about that.”
“What exactly was that?”
“You were there. You heard it.”
“No, actually, I didn’t. I didn’t hear you guys except for Mike saying something about territory. I mean, what the hell did he do to set you off? Or were you waiting for him, already pissed?”
I sigh. On the one hand, I’m really happy she didn’t hear me threatening Mike if he ever touched her. On the other hand, I’ll now have to come up with a lie. I’m not a very proficient liar, and I’ve lied enough in the last year for the rest of my life.
“I’m always pissed at Mike,” I say. It’s the truth at least.
“So you attack him regularly then?”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Nah. Only on Mondays and Fridays and every other Saturday.”
“God.” She shakes her head but laughs. “Well, hey.”
I look her in the eye.
“I know I’m just the summer intern or whatever, but that didn’t seem real conducive to a positive tour experience. If the press got ahold of stuff like that, it’d be be a mess. I’m just sayin’.” She smiles, and my heart clenches with want.
“You’re right, and you’re way too smart to call yourself a ‘summer intern.’” She blushes. “Really. Thanks, Mel.”
She gives me another one of those brilliant smiles of hers and I have to admit—to myself anyway—that I’m putty in her hands.
It’s thirty minutes later when Tammy finally corners me. I should have known it was coming. While she’s usually pissed at me or ashamed to be near me, there was something different about this morning’s vibe. A new level of intensity. I’m walking down a hallway backstage when I hear her call my name.
“Joss.”
I turn to see her following me. “Yeah,” I answer without stopping.
“I need to talk to you,” she says brusquely.
I stop and lean back against a wall, crossing my arms. “So talk.”
She steps to me and leans in, whispering. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What exactly are you referring to, Tammy?” I’m not being obtuse. I really don’t know what she’s going on about.
She purses her lips and narrows her eyes. As gorgeous as she is, it’s not a good look.
“With my sister, Joss. What are you doing with Mel?”
I stare at her in shock. After all these months, she’s finally had a reaction to something I did.
In the beginning, I tried to talk to her. I sent letters, emails, gifts. I apologized, I begged, I made a general fool out of myself. I knew it had been a drastic mistake, but I needed it to be a mistake we’d made together. I couldn’t stand the feeling that I had somehow done it to her instead of with her. She refused to talk to me, to look at me, to answer me. She slept with me then walked away and never spoke about it again. Now she has a reaction and I can’t imagine why, unless she’s jealous. It’s almost comical. The minute I’m finally feeling like I might be able to move on, she gets jealous.
I smile. I know it’s not a nice smile, but she deserves it. “I’m not doing anything with Mel, Tammy, but I certainly can if you’d like.”
“You’re a fucking asshole, Joss, and don’t for a minute think I don’t know you’re only doing it to punish me more. How could you? How could you screw with her like that just to get back at me?”
“Holy shit, Tammy. Have you finally completely lost your ever-loving mind? You can’t be for real, because that’s got to be the most self-absorbed thing I’ve ever heard someone say.” I feel adrenaline bursting through me as my temper skyrockets. It’s been too long with no place to put this shit. “You know what? Fuck you, Tammy DiLorenzo. Fuck you. My whole goddamned life does not revolve around you or what happened between us. And for your information, your sister has plenty of assets to put her on any guy’s radar. In case you somehow missed it, she’s unbelievably hot and smart, and unlike her older sister, she’s a nice person. So go to hell, Tammy, and unless it’s about work, don’t fucking talk to me again.”
I stride off, kicking a wall on my way, but not before I hear Tammy screech in frustration and slam a door as she leaves the hallway. All I can think is, This is going to be a damn long tour.
Chapter Twelve
Mel
I’ve spent most of the day directing the freelancers on the kinds of things I want to capture as well as getting the layout of the auditorium and the logistics for the show. Tonight we’re going to shoot the opening performance of the As Lush As It Gets Tour. All four of the band members have been on site rehearsing and preparing since right after lunch. It’s amazing to me how professional they are. I still think of them as my sister’s raunchy high school friends. Offstage, they often still act like that, but when it’s time to work, they become every bit the mega-successful rock band.
The logistics of a large-scale rock concert are astonishing. There’s a crew of over fifty guys working nonstop today to set up this show, and when it’s done, they’ll spend the rest of the night breaking it down before they hit the road to meet up with us at the next stop tomorrow night.
As the sun sets outside and the event staff for the auditorium begin to clock in, the energy in the place shifts. I have two of my freelancers walking around backstage and catching the buzz of the place while the third is outside on the sidewalk photographing the crowd. Apparently they’re already lined up for several blocks outside the auditorium.
Backstage, Tammy is running around like a chicken minus the head. But if you really watch, you’ll find that she’s absolutely in control and there is an order to her chaos. I’m amazed at what she can keep track of and how much she seems to know about this business when she’s never had any sort of formal training.
The guys are each preparing in their own ways I guess. Mike is walking around backstage, chatting with the crew, and doing jumping jacks. He has knit gloves on, apparently to keep his fingers warm. It never occurred to me that a guitarist would have real problems if his fingers were cold and stiff.
Walsh’s normal easygoing personality and Colin’s constantly stoned one mesh nicely, and the two of them are hanging out in the green room eating snacks and chugging water. When he’s onstage, Walsh sweats about two buckets per performance. I’m glad he knows to hydrate. I’m also glad that I’m not the one who has to give him a kiss as he walks offstage. Gag.