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“Dibs on the bedroom!” Claude shouted.

“Dib denied,” Pressley cut his dumbass dance off. “The bedroom is mine and I’ll be sharing it with Bowie. The rest of you pick your own bunk when you get aboard. Wolf usually rides with the crew but I’m sure he’ll be with us occasionally. Chaotic has two buses, they’ll meet us at the venue on Monday night. The way the schedule has been set you only have a max of three shows a week, most are two. Easton is a firm believer in giving the bands as much down time as he can, but we all know Friday and Saturday nights are the best night for shows so you can kiss those two days off each week.”

“Every day is the same to me anymore,” Bowie said. “Makes no difference, I just appreciate the breaks we get. Any chance we can check out the towns we’re in?”

“Which brings me to our next point of business,” Pressley winked at him. “Chaotic has amassed quite the following and now have security guards, we’ve also been assigned two for our band for this tour. Anything you do must be cleared with the Masterson security team, which means you have to run it by me first so I can reach out to them. Getting on Fizzbo’s bad side isn’t a dream of mine.”

“What’s a Fizzbo?” Tibby asked. “Sounds delicious.”

“It’s not. Well, it kinda is. He runs the security company Masterson hires to protect the talent. While I haven’t been employed here long, Fizzbo’s reputation proceeds him within our industry and let’s just say, he’s not opposed to kicking the ass of anyone who crosses him or his guards.”

“He can and will kick all your asses and likely at the same time,” Wolf said as he stepped back inside the room. “He’s a retired marine, trained in the fine art of combat and has more black belts in various martial arts than I can remember.”

“Thank you for that wonderful introduction.” The wall of muscle that snuck inside like a ninja had the four of us gasping and taking a step back. “Names Fizzbo, good to see you again. This is Harley and Scythe, they’ll be your guards on this trip. Step a toe out of line and I’ll be the first to know. Do it again and Easton will be. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” came out as one from the four of us. I had the overwhelming urge to run and hide behind Daddy, but he stood right next to them and that was way too close for me.

“We guard the greats in your industry. Black Ice and Ivory Tower, Social Sinners, Maiden Voyage to name a few. There’s a reason why we’re the best and all of my guards are highly trained, ex-military. They are armed and they do not fuck around.”

Even our smart-ass drummer didn’t comment on that.

“You’ll see other guards on occasion especially with Chaotic Abyss, namely Sikes and Snipe. In case you’re wondering where we met, it was last year at Rocktoberfest.” Ah, now I understood why he was so familiar. “We have eyes and ears everywhere, keep that in mind when your inner demon is screaming to be let loose. Harley and Scythe will be on the buses Monday morning before you to do their security checks. Gentlemen,” Fizzbo nodded to the group. “I’ll be in touch.”

He disappeared as quickly as he came.

“How does a guy that big move like the wind?” Bowie whispered to me.

“Magic.” That was either Harley or Scythe though I don’t know which. No facial expressions, not even a raised eyebrow. Like they were human gargoyle statues. Freaky as fuck.

“And on that note,” Pressley grinned, “Let’s break bread and get to know one another.” I wasn’t quite sure these guys would answer any questions we had nor did I believe any of us were brave enough to ask any.

Pressley led us to the meeting room this time instead of the employee breakroom. Likely because there were not enough tables and chairs for this group. A huge line of self-serve food was set up on the buffet tables along one of the walls. Probably took half a store to feed these guards.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Easton’s voice scared the shit out of us. I nearly launched my plate across the table as I sat. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said from the television screen. “Just wanted to be available for any questions you may have and reiterate the importance of Fizzbo’s rules. Please, everyone, sit. Enjoy your food and ask any questions you have as we cover a few important items.”

The guards watched everything, it was kinda creepy.

“I’m sure you’re confused about the guard situation but trust me when I say your safety is of the utmost importance to us. Overzealous fans and haters are not to be taken lightly. Ely, Rhone with Embrace the Fear’s husband and Jordan, David from Embrace’s partner, head up our culinary team. They’ve created a rather delicious menu for you, but don’t fret, we know caffeine and snacks help amp up your energy and each bus will be fully loaded. But your meals will be well balanced, and I promise you they taste divine.”

“Dude, what, are we like eighty?” Dumbass Claude mumbled around a mouthful of food.

“You forget, I’m fluent in Diamond, Claude,” Easton called him out. “No, you’re not eighty and if I must repeat myself, not only is your safety a priority at Masterson, but your health as well. If you have an issue with the food after you’ve tasted it, I’d love to hear from you.”

“Thank you, Easton, I can assure you he’ll have no issues,” Pressley practically growled as he stared down Claude. “We appreciate all you do for us.”

“We are always open to suggestions,” Easton added. “Pressley has gone over the bus arrangements with you. Your drivers have been fully vetted with the security team and have excellent resumes and references. Your bus has the back bedroom and six bunks, plenty of room for everyone and a place for the driver to lay his head as well. Each bus has a variety of game systems to enjoy during your downtime, two bathrooms, a small office area and as mentioned, a fully stocked kitchen. What we haven’t covered is drugs and alcohol. Masterson is a drug free company and while we know marijuana is legal in most states we ask that you pay attention to where you are before you light up. If it’s not legal and you don’t have a medical card, keep it to yourself. There is no smoking of any kind allowed on the buses, and we ask you use your best judgement when partaking in adult beverages.”

Bowie and I were a couple of beers and then call it a night guys, so no worries there. I haven’t noticed Tibby drink at all, so I hope that Señor Jackass keeps the rules in mind if or when he does.

“What about at afterparties?” Claude asked. I was seconds away from bitch slapping the dumbass.

“At your bands level there aren’t any.”

Easton 2

Dumbass 0

“Guys, what Easton is saying, and far nicer than I will,” Pressley stood up, “Is don’t make bad choices. If you do it negatively impacts not only your band brothers but the company we work for. If you’d like to go back to shoveling elephant shit at the zoo, let me know before Monday. There were plenty of artists who auditioned for your places within the band that would be more than willing to drive all night to join us.”