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“What?” he asked, as if we weren’t late.
“We’re almost done here. Did you forget you had a gig tonight?” Miami scowled, but I suspected he wasn’t really upset. From what everyone said, he had chilled out a lot since the first time around, and that had everything to do with Jinx, who unstrapped his guitar and handed it to Bobby, his tech.
Jinx joined Miami in front of the kit and in the teasing. “So what? You’re late again because you were too busy fooling around with your boyfriend?”
“Yeah, didn’t you two have a jet? Or are you now officially part of the mile-high club?” Miami leered at Ziggy.
But Ziggy kept his cool and simply flicked them both off. “Fuck you both. And we were already in that club if it’s any of your business. Oh. By the way. It’s not.”
That was when Miami finally burst out laughing and everyone else joined in, particularly Jinx and Wolf. “Man. You know we love you.”
Ziggy flipped another bird at Jinx and turned back to his kit.
Wolf snorted. “I would have been surprised if he wasn’t late.” He thumbed over his shoulder.
“Fuck you too, Wolfman.”
There was more teasing, but overall, these guys acted like brothers, so it was to be expected. If Ziggy couldn’t take the teasing, he would have been out of the band a long time ago. Well, probably. But I felt like it was hard not to make allowances for Ziggy. Hell, I’d sure done it. He was fun and lovable, and…as he started to prove, could pound the fuck out of those drums like nearly no one else. And he did just that for a minute straight. Then he stopped. “Hey, can we get the sound guys over here?”
“What’s wrong?” Simon asked, looking crushed. He’d only started working for us on this tour and probably hadn’t gotten used to the guys. But he was good and generally got what Ziggy needed.
“Last show, I busted this mic. We need to move it. No big, but if we don’t want to keep going through mics…” The sound tech showed up pretty quickly after that and worked to get it positioned better. Everyone on this tour was professional, including Ziggy, even if it didn’t always seem like it. But when it came to the music and playing, he stepped up every time.
After the mic was set, they played a few songs until Miami called time. As they turned over their equipment to the techs, Ziggy called over to me. “Hey, go on back with the guys. I’m gonna help Dave and the guys get his kit set up.” The drums for Bramble Punk got set up in front of Ziggy’s kit before the show, and moved out of the way when they were done playing. It was the best way to do it.
“Okay.” I met him in the middle of the stage and gave him a peck on the lips, and he smiled sweetly.
“I like that.”
“I like it too. Maybe more of this and less arguing about shit this time.”
He kissed me again. “I like that idea.” With a wink, he strode off to help, and I headed backstage. I thought it was nice of him and maybe made up for us being late.
Everyone had their own dressing rooms at this venue, and I’d had our luggage dumped in Ziggy’s. But there was a large common area between them set up for socializing, partying, or whatever, and that’s where the guys were hanging out. Everyone greeted me as I came in.
“Oh, hey, Colman.” Wolf’s long blond hair was falling around his face and shoulders. He looked every bit the rocker he was, even if I knew he could play anything, including classical, with the best of them.
I dropped into an open single chair. “Hey, back. What’s up?”
“We got word this morning that the plane will be ready and waiting in Boston.”
“Excellent. I was hoping that would work.” We had all gone in together and purchased a jet. It was a Gulfstream g550, and we’d decked it out with two couches along with a bunch of comfy chairs that would fully recline so we could sleep there if necessary or simply stretch out. In addition to the band chipping in, Harrison and I forked up a lot of money. We felt like it would be a good addition and would let the guys get more comfortable between some gigs. Though we were chartering a bigger jet to fly the guys from Bramble Punk, all our roadies and techs and equipment for both bands, as well as our other personnel like Marci and Kai, we owned the Gulfstream outright. After the concert in Denver, we’d fly out to Salt Lake City, and the buses would be there by then to haul everyone out for one show in Reno before heading to Black Rock City for Rocktoberfest. The buses were a necessity for that, but we could use the planes for the last five shows. Fly in, crash in hotels, play the gigs, and fly out to the next city.
“Check this out.” Wolf jumped over Miami’s legs and squatted next to me, sticking out his phone. “I got pics.” The plane had been wrapped in our new Miami Hunt logo, and he had a few images of it all done and looking sleek as hell.
“Oh yeah, that looks badass for sure.” I had started to sound more and more like them the longer I hung out with them. I didn’t give a damn, either. “Fuck yeah.”
Wolf chuckled at my exuberance, while swiping over to show me the interior. The leather seats were caramel in color and looked soft. In fact, everything looked expensive. And I knew that it had been expensive to customize it, but hopefully, worth every penny. “And the couches…” There were two oversized couches with an aisle between them. They could easily pass for beds.Sweet.
“Ziggy’s gonna love that.”
“For real. Damn, they’re taking a long time,” Miami chimed in, and I had to agree. But soon enough, the entire Bramble entourage came pouring through the doors. But Ziggy wasn’t with them.
“Kay? Where’s Zig, man?” My forehead tightened with worry.
Kay shrugged as if he didn’t know or care. “He was with the security dude. Said he’d be right up.”
I stormed over to the closest guard in the room. “Radio Drake and find out where they are.”
