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We followed him through theEmployees Onlydoor and to the service elevator. Damn, we wouldn’t even be using the first-class guest elevators. No. Service all the way. All stainless steel. Boring. On the third floor, the doors opened, and we were escorted down the hall and to the guest elevators.Yay! Andthese were nice, more like you’d expect from a swanky place like this.
We stopped at our floor, though I wasn’t sure what floor that was. I didn’t think I’d need to know, anyway. We were always accompanied by security. They needed to know, and apparently, they did. Drake handed Miami a card and pointed to a door. “This is you and Jinx, sir.”
“Thanks, man.” Miami keyed the card, but Drake held up a finger and went in. I assume he made sure no one was lurking in the closet before he came back and let them in.
The next door was my room, and he handed me the card. I swiped it and pushed the door open. Drake barreled past me and into the room, but I didn’t wait for him to finish his inspection before following. He’d gone into the bedroom area while I checked out the main room, which was set up like a living room with a sleek couch in front of the huge window facing a TV that hung on the wall. Beyond that was a small table and chairs and a wet bar. Now that had my attention. The mini-fridge was hidden behind a sleek panel the same as the rest of the cabinetry, but inside were tiny bottles of exactly what I was looking for. I pulled out a tiny bottle of Crown. It probably had one shot in it. That wouldn’t be enough, but I’d rectify that. I tossed my hat on the couch and dumped the entire contents of the bottle down my throat and grabbed another.
The warmth immediately spread through me, calming my nerves. I unwrapped a glass and poured my second bottle into that.Let’s be classy here.
“All clear.” Drake glared at me. Of course he did. “You’re supposed to wait outside.”
“What if I’m attacked out there…” I pointed to the front door, which was still wide open. “While you’re in here.” I raised my glass and winked.
Drake shook his head. “We should really assign an extra guard for you.”
I laughed maniacally as Drake shut the door behind him.
I took out my phone and texted my man, Marcos, making sure he knew where to go and when to show up. I so needed a hit before the concert tonight. With that done, I ordered room service. Steak and potatoes. Plus two Crown and Sevens. Doubles. If that didn’t do it, I’d order more. I’d rather go down to the bar. A quick Google showed a sophisticated meeting spot to drink and socialize, but that was off-limits. It would cause too many problems, and we’d only just started this tour. I was sure the guys would like at least one night of calm before my chaos exploded all over the fucking place.
I opened the front door, and predictably, Drake was leaning against the wall opposite the room where Jinx and Miami were. “I ordered room service.”
Drake nodded.
I went back inside. Maybe a quick shower would slow me down a little, but I doubted it. I hardly ever slowed down. My internal clock was set to overdrive and had been for as long as I could remember. As a kid, I ran circles around everyone on the playground. I’d gotten into the school band and picked up drums to channel some of that energy. It wasn’t long before I had a starter kit at home as well. I loved music. All kinds, but especially rock and punk. The harder and edgier the sound, the better. Before long, that’s all I was ever doing. Drumming. I beat that first kit to death, though I’m sure it sounded like shit.
The rest of the afternoon and evening was pretty boring. Shower. Eat. Drink. Lay on the bed, wishing I could actually take a nap. Some song lyrics filtered through my head. I was not the star writer in this band. They gave me songs, and I whipped out some notation for it. But occasionally, I would get words. Most of the time, I didn’t bother writing them down. But if theystuck with me longer than a minute, maybe I would. This time, I didn’t. I fell asleep and napped until Drake pounded on the bedroom door. Time to rock.
Playing at a stadium was like no other thing in the world. We had a great soundcheck, loving how we rocked the place without fans in the seats and imagining how hyped the show would be with them. That was the best part of what we did. Being a part of this band was a lifestyle of travel and music and the fans that made it possible for us to live it.
When we finished the check, we headed to the dressing areas, which were set up in the football players’ locker rooms with a lot less privacy than we were used to, but it was also cool as shit. Atlanta Falcons memorabilia covered the walls. The players’ names were on the cubbies they used for lockers. They didn’t have their gear in them, which would have been neat, but I could understand it not being out where anyone could walk off with it. But each cubby had a cushioned bench where we could sitin front of them. Everything was red, gray, and black, and the Falcon logo was placed aesthetically around, including the giant one in the middle of the floor as you walked in the door. If I were a bigger football fan, I would have been super-stoked.
We had about thirty minutes until the meet and greet at the Overlook, a room they reserved and set up for us. There would be signing and chatting and pictures. I actually loved doing this kind of stuff, probably more than the others. I think it started feeling like a chore for them, something youhadto do. But for me, it was something I wasallowedto do. I was allowed time to hang out with cool fans who wanted to meet me and party to my beats. These people didn’t have to be here, they wanted to. These were the people who made Midnight Hunt a possibility, and for our comeback, it was even more glorious. We had fans who remembered us from way back when and new fans checking us out for the first time. They created an electric atmosphere where I was privileged to live for a brief moment.
I hurried to pull a shirt over my head without even looking at what it was. I wasn’t changing my pants. Before we took the stage, I would slip on one of my sleeveless shirts or a jacket, but for now, it was come as you are. Messy hair and holey jeans, be damned.
Drake and a few of the others on the security team ushered us up to the meeting space. We had a brief chat with reporters, but Miami and Jinx did most of the talking, which was fine with me. I wasn’t here for the media.
The Overlook was basically a big open space where people could mingle. We had tables set up to sell our shit, and all of it had the new logo and marketing. Kai was hovering there, inspecting everything. He was an interesting character, slight as a reed, with black hair that had dark red streaks, and it stuck up everywhere, but fashionably so. I imagined it took him hoursto get it all exactly as he wanted it, with him fussing over every single strand.
Drake nudged me over to the tables. We had Sharpies set out that we could use to sign stuff, and in between each table, there were those banners that popped up out of a case that we could take selfies in front of. All appropriately branded. I wondered what we’d spent on that shit when we could have done plenty in front of the open area that let you look down into the stadium instead for free. There were always places to get pics. But whatever. I wasn’t in it for the money, and if the fans liked it, that was fine with me.
As soon as I was settled, the doors opened and fans poured in. There was a rush to the table, and most of them headed for Jinx. He brought new fans in for sure since he had a successful solo career before we got back together. None of the rest of us had much success on our own. Well, Wolf had, but it had been behind the scenes, producing for others and playing studio gigs. He actually had massive credits on other artists’ work, but he was super humble about it.
Me? Fuck. I fucked around, played with several bands, but without the Hunt, I wasn’t much more than a hard-rocking drummer. With the Hunt though, we were spectacular.
I greeted fans making their way down the line. Signed T-shirts, posters, arms, and whatever else they stuck in front of me. We took pictures, mostly in front of the banners Kai had ordered, but once it cleared out and started getting late, I did a few in front of the spot overlooking the stadium with a couple of dudes who were nearly as old as me. We took a few, making faces and throwing fingers, and a few serious ones too. I shook their hands with a slap and a fist bump, and they wished me a good show. They were what I thought of asoriginal fans. They’d followed us from the beginning and talked about seeing us play at the Georgia Dome when it was still around. One of them wore ouroriginal concert shirt. These were the fans I loved most. Loyal to the core.
We wrapped up and headed back to the locker room to chill, which is when Drake touched his earpiece and asked me if I was expecting guests. All the security guards had the earpieces to chat with each other. I’d probably use the things to prank-talk everyone. Oh the funny lines I could come up with. LikeHouston, we have a hard-on. And that’s probably why I didn’t get one.
“Yeah, Marcos,” I answered instead. “I put him on the backstage list and asked him to come before the show.”
“Got a last name?”
“Uh…no. Not really. Just Marcos. Got a phone number.”
Drake huffed. He actually huffed. Well, to be fair, he hadn’t been on tour with us before. He’d learn. I had people in most cities we were touring in. Not in Richmond, which was our next show, but the two after were Jersey and Boston. Yep, had people there. The East Coast was home for me, and I could get a hook-up nearly anywhere. At least in the major cities.
I sat on a bench and waited. Soon enough, Marcos came strutting in. He had some other dude with him. “Hey. Thanks for the passes, man.” He slapped my hand and fist-bumped me. “This is Zade. Good friend of mine, loves your music.”
