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Showtime!
When I took the stage, I was on fire. I felt ready. And I wasn’t thinking about Coleman at all. Nope. Not at all. I didn’t give a fuck what he was doing as I jogged across the stage with my sticks over my head. And I wasn’t going to. Nope. I was getting into the zone. I was stoked.
I counted offThe One About Fightingand we were rolling.
Wolf’s bass thrummed out the beat along with me while Jinx hit the licks like his fingers were lit. His ax screeched. And Miami. Whatever you wanted to say about him, egotistical prima donna, whatever, he had the vocal chops of a Viking god. And he let loose, stoking up the crowd.
We went through our lineup and our solos, the bulk of our show, and moved to one of our new songs. Wolf kicked it off with a killer backbeat for a few bars before I joined with a pounding drum intro. When Jinx slid his bar over his strings to make them hiss and scream, we were rocking it out. Miami’s signature scream had the crowd screaming even louder.
Whisky Gone
Dropped the bottle
In the trash
Another bottle of whisky gone
There's an itch
Like a rash
Never be the same
Now you're gone
Drinking again
Thinking again
Wondering where you are
Who you doing?
Where's the ruing?
Seize my day
Not begging you to stay
I listened to the words as I stomped on the bass drum. I could have written that damn song. Lyrics didn’t normally ring true with me, or at least not on that level. I pushed those thoughts away, concentrating on the music. Fuck feelings.
When the song ended, I stood, raising my sticks over my head. Miami and Jinks dashed off the stage and handed their guitars to their roadies to store for tomorrow’s show. I circled around my kit to the front of the stage and motioned for the crowd to get riled up. This wasn’t what I normally did, but I felt like I needed to spice some shit up afterWhiskey Goneand it’s too close to home lyrics. So, I stopped at Miami’s mic. “What are you doing, Atlanta?”
As expected, the crowd went nuts. Concertgoers usually liked to see unexpected things, and this was it for tonight. “We’re happy to see you here…” I paused, waiting for them to settle some, feeling what it was like for Miami, at least a little bit. “The guys are leaving.” I pointed to the side stage, and as expected, the stadium erupted. I chuckled into the mic, and when the noise died a little, very little but I’d take it, I held my sticks up over my head. “You gotta be louder than that if you want them back.”
The crowd surged forward a little, and for a second, I worried. Horrible accidents had happened with crowds losing control and stampeding. But these were our fans. I wasn’t letting that shit happen. “Hey, now. No rushing forward. Don’t get that crazy.” I pointed out to the audience.
I glanced over to the guys. Wolf was drinking out of a water bottle. Miami was looking at me likeWhat the fuck, dude?And Jinx simply shook his head. He knew. Good ol’ Ziggy was gonna do whatever I was gonna do.
“Okay, Atlanta. Here’s the deal. I’m going to slip off and grab some water. And if you want the Hunt to play some more, you have to yell. Don’t rush the stage. You know how this works. Just scream until you’re horse…” I laughed manically, loving the reaction I was pulling from them. “Midnight Hunt fans rule!” I screamed into the mic.
I jogged off stage as they did exactly what I asked. I shouldered past Miami, ignoring the shit he was spouting and grabbed a bottle of cold water. I poured some of it over my head and swigged the rest. My shirt was soaked, and I unbuttoned the last three that I had still done up, so it hung loose.
Miami stretched his arms over his head and groaned. “Whatever…”
“Hey, they loved it.” I shrugged off his criticism and jogged back out ahead of the others. Before heading to my kit, I pulled my shirt off and tossed it into the crowd.
Jinx strapped on his guitar, getting ready for the encore, and so did Wolf. Miami waited to join us, bouncing on his feet. I slid behind the kit and started pounding out what I’d worked up for the pre-intro to the song. Something to get the crowd going again.
