Opening Act Page 27

  Which was a shame, because Zee showed up a few minutes later. If she’d been a little quicker, she might have met him on the stairs. As it was, Shay caught her scanning the room for him and being perplexed at not finding him. He couldn’t tell her where he’d gone just yet; he was still busy talking to his public.

  His public. This—this here—was what he’d been aiming for, ever since he first took up a mic in his parents’ garage, back in his senior year, along with a few like-minded friends—Lockwood one of them. And now he’d arrived. A headliner with his own band in the biggest city in America, at the end of a national tour, and sitting with a towel around his neck, drinking premium bourbon, and pontificating for the eager ears of rapt listeners.

  “Yeah, sure, I have a vision for Overlords,” he said in answer to some mundane question. “What I’d like is to bring back some of the wild, expressionistic elements to rock-and-roll, the way the great early bands borrowed from the Romantic poets…like, y’know, Blake and…well, Blake and whoever.” Dang, that thought had petered out a bit. He’d realized it was going to when he was halfway into it. The only reason he’d even gone down that road was that the visitors to the greenroom had thinned out enough now that he thought Zee might possibly overhear him and report back to Loni that he’d been talking about William Blake. And then, after the last few fans had gone—one final girl actually lifting her shirt and having him unstrap her bra so that he could sign his name over the whole of her back—Shay was alone…with Zee.

  It was momentarily awkward. He of course hadn’t forgotten that Zee had no reason to think him anything but a selfish, manipulative shit. But the whole night had been such a joyride, and she was apparently so happy with Lockwood these days, that he set his apprehension aside and gave her a great big grin. “Hey there, Zee Gleason.”

  “Hi, Shay Dayton! Great concert. I mean, best I’ve ever seen you give. By a long shot.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ve really tightened up in all our time on the road.”

  “Jesus! You sure have.” She looked momentarily awkward, then said, “I…I was hoping to have a friend with me tonight. I have no idea what happened to her.”

  “Never mind. It’s enough that you’re here. Lockwood’s over the moon about it.” He jerked his thumb toward the stairs. “You just missed him. He went down to help load out. No one’s allowed to break down his kit but him.”

  “I know. The way he treats that setup, I get jealous sometimes.”

  Shay shook his head. “No need for that. If you could only hear the way he talks about you!”

  She perked up but tried not to show it. “Oh, shut up.”

  “No, he really does.” He took another sip of bourbon, then lifted the glass to her and said, “Pour you one?”

  “Nnnno,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Bit strong for me. I’ll just go down and see if I can find Lockwood.”

  “We’ve got champagne, too,” he said, pulling the bottle from the bucket. “Looks like there’s a mouthful left. Wet your whistle?”

  She took a moment to consider this, then said, “What the hell. It’s a night worth celebrating, right?”

  “You slam-dunked that one,” he said, and he emptied the bottle into a plastic cup and passed it to her. “Cheers,” he said, raising his own drink, and they tossed back a mouthful together.

  “Mm,” Zee said, scrunching up her face and rubbing her finger along the bottom of her nose. “Tickles.”

  “Yeah. This doesn’t, though,” he said, holding up the bourbon again. “More like scorches.”

  She made a gagging face, then said, “Well, I’ll leave it to you, then,” and finished off the champagne. She set down the cup, got to her feet, and said, “Thanks for the drink.”

  He stood up and said, “No worries. Listen, I’m glad you were here tonight.”

  “Aw. You’re sweet to say so.”

  “Not just for Lockwood…for all of us. You’ve been there since the beginning. And…and we really appreciate it. More than we can say, actually.”

  She appeared pleased by this. She seemed to summon up her courage, then said, “In that case, can I have a hug before I go?”

  “Sure,” he said, extending his arms, “though I warn you, I’m all sweaty.”

  She made a clicking noise, dismissing this, and wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.

  “Thanks, Shay Dayton,” she said in a low voice, “for everything.”

  Then she took up her purse and turned to go.

  And there was Pernita in the doorway.

  Zee said, “Oh, hi. Nice to see you again,” and slipped by her down the stairs.

  Shay smiled up at Pernita. “I think that’s everybody,” he said. “Soon as I change my pants, we can go.”

  But she was looking at him with such a thunderous expression that it stopped him in his tracks. What the hell was the matter now?

  “You lying sack of shit,” she said.

  He blinked. “What?” he said, dumbfounded. “No, really. I do have to change my pants. These are all damp.”

  She glared at him with what looked like intense hatred. “Running around behind my back with that…that Haver City slut,” she said. “How long has that been going on? How long has she been following you on this tour? Hm? The entire time I’ve been gone?”

  This was the last thing Shay had expected of this day, and it instantly obliterated his mood. Yes, he’d arrived. Yes, he’d achieved everything he’d ever wanted, and had done it in just a few short years. But this, he now realized, was the price: attachment to this woman and her unfathomable whims, jealousies, and rages.

  “Are you talking about Zee?” he said, gesturing toward the stairs. “She’s with Lockwood, for Christ’s sake. Ask anyone. I mean it.”

  Tears streamed down her face. “I can’t believe anything you say. I can’t trust anything you do. You’ve so—so completely withheld yourself from me—all this time—and now—now I know why…”

  She was actually at the point of bawling. Shay was absolutely gobsmacked. He had no idea where this was coming from. “She’s with Lockwood,” he repeated more insistently. “What the hell has gotten into you, anyway?”

  She lashed out at him and struck him hard across the face.

  “You’ve been playing me for a fool,” she spat at him. “You and her both.” She choked back a gasp. “And after everything I’ve done for you.”

  Shay stood there, reeling a bit from the slap, his face stinging. He recalled how a few months before, when Jonah had told him about his epic battles with the Wail, he’d wondered how he might react if Pernita ever dared to hit him. And he’d determined that he would simply turn on his heel and walk away forever.

  And…he’d been right. That was exactly what he was going to do.

  But there was something else he hadn’t anticipated…something new.

  When she’d slapped him, it was almost like…like she’d awakened him from some kind of dreamy half-consciousness. As if she’d broken a spell.

  “Everything you’ve done for me?” he said now, in a very low, very feral voice. “I think you mean everything you’ve done to me.”

  She laughed, and it was a terrible, acid laugh. “Oh, easy to say so now. You know goddamn well you wouldn’t be here without me. You’d be nowhere without me.”

  “I am nowhere,” he said, realizing—with astonishment—that it was true.

  “You ungrateful shit! Headlining the Hollywood Palladium. That’s something you can look down your nose at now? You’re suddenly so big? Well…I can bring you down.”

  “You can’t bring me down any further than I already am,” he said, his head suddenly filled with light—such clarifying, illuminating light. “You’ve manufactured me. You’ve chopped me up and stitched me back together like some kind of fucking Frankenstein monster. That’s what I’ve become, you know. I’m your little pet project. Your creature.”

  At that moment, Halbert Hasque came back into the room.

  “Daddy,” she said,
flinging herself into his arms. “He’s hurt me…he’s hurt your little girl.” And she burst into racking sobs.

  Halbert turned his saurian eyes on Shay, and Shay knew that whatever was coming, it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  Shay was forced to go down and deliver the news himself. Halbert refused to lower himself.

  He stood at the load-out door, where everyone was hanging with the crew and having a few drinks, smoking a few joints. “Hasque has dropped us,” he said.

  Everyone laughed. Then, noticing the rigidity of his face, they stopped.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Trina said. “After tonight?”

  “He says tonight’s success wasn’t big enough to measure against our behavioral issues.”

  “That lousy fat fuck,” Trina said, rolling up her sleeves. “You dare me to make him repeat that?”

  “No one’s daring you to do anything, Trina,” said Baby morosely.

  “The real blame is with me,” Shay said. “For some reason, Pernita just went apeshit on me. She’s convinced I’ve been fucking around behind her back the whole tour.”

  “Well, you pretty much have been,” said Jimmy with a sneer. “And we’ve warned you about it.”

  He shook his head. “But, it’s weird.” He looked to where Zee stood with Lockwood. “Seeing you was the thing that really triggered it.”

  Zee’s face drained of color. “Oh, no,” she said. “Oh, shit. I think I know why.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, trying to reassure her. “We’re better off without her.”

  “Oh, are we?” Jimmy said, tossing a spent joint to the ground and stepping on it in a manner that suggested he wished it was Shay’s head. “And how do you figure that?”

  “She was too controlling. Hasque, too. We need to do things our way from now on.”

  Lockwood sighed. “We can talk about this tomorrow. We’re all wiped out. We can use a good night’s sleep before we decide what comes next.”

  Shay cleared his throat. “Yeah. About that.” They turned to look at him. “Uh, he’s kicked me out of his house, too. I need a place to stay tonight.”

  “You can bunk with me,” Trina said. “Gotta warn you. I snore.”

  “And also,” Shay said, really wishing he could somehow evade having to mention this, “he’s cutting bait as of tomorrow.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Jimmy asked.

  “Meaning, after we check out of the hotel, we’re on our own. He’s not footing any of our bills anymore.”

  “Then how the fuck do we get home?”

  Shay stared at them, then took a deep breath and said, “Like Lockwood says…let’s get some sleep before we try to figure that out.”

  Shay went back up to the greenroom to grab his duffel bag. On his way down, he found Halbert Hasque at the bottom of the stairs.

  “So long, sir,” he said, and he headed backstage, toward the load-out door.

  “That’s it?” Halbert said, opening his palms. “That’s all you’ve got?” When Shay turned to face him, he continued: “You’re not going to say how happy you are that you’re now free to tell me exactly what you think of me? What a lousy, evil, hypocritical shit I am, and you hope I die soon, painfully like I deserve? None of that?”

  Shay was alarmed to realize that Halbert had played this scene before…and apparently actually enjoyed it.

  “No, sir,” he said, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “You’ve given us plenty of opportunities and invested a lot of time and money in us. As I see it, we owe you thanks. And respect. And apologies for having let you down.”

  Halbert stared at him in disbelief.

  Shay nodded his head, turned, and continued walking.

  That’s got to rattle him, he thought. Halbert Hasque now knows I’m a bigger man than he is.

  EPILOGUE

  Loni rang the buzzer a few times, but no one answered. So she took out her phone to send a text—I’m here, I’m right outside—but before she could do that, the door opened.

  It was Mrs. Milliken, looking just as blankly uninterested from her leathery side and she did from her smooth one. It was like she’d last seen Loni yesterday, not nine months before.

  Though, in point of fact, she’d never really seen Loni at all.

  “Oh,” said the landlady. “I thought it was somebody.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Milliken. It’s me, Loni. Zee’s friend? I’m back to stay with her for a few months. How nice to see you again.”

  Mrs. Milliken stepped away from the door. “If it was somebody, I’d have had to speak to them about not losing their keys,” she said, and she drifted blithely back into the building.

  Nice to know some things never change, Loni thought, and she caught the door just before it closed again. She was maneuvering her suitcase through it when Zee suddenly appeared behind her, slightly out of breath and carrying a brown paper bag whose contents clinked when she moved. “Loni! Hi! Sorry I wasn’t here. I just ran down to Ray’s Liquors to get some wine to celebrate you moving back.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet,” Loni said, “but you should’ve let me do that.”

  “Don’t be silly. Here.” She skittered around the suitcase and held the door open so that Loni could push the behemoth into the vestibule. “Jesus, what have you got in there, a grand piano?”

  “I bought some new clothes in California,” she said, pausing to catch her breath. “Shopping therapy.”

  “How the hell did you ever get it here from the airport?” Zee asked as she let the door swing shut again.

  “I tipped the cabdriver to carry it for me.”

  “Jesus, Loni,” Zee said as she opened up the interior door. “Women who look like you don’t need to tip guys to get them to carry their bags.”

  Loni scoffed at the compliment and hauled the suitcase up the steps. “I could use one of those pulley systems the Egyptians had for building the pyramids,” she cracked, pausing halfway up to catch her breath and wipe the sweat from her brow.

  “Pretty sure I’m out of those,” said Zee.

  When she’d settled back in, showered, and changed, Loni came out to the living room and joined Zee on the sofa. Zee had a bottle of chardonnay and two glasses waiting. “In honor of your triumphant return,” she said.

  “Not so sure I’d call it a triumph,” Loni said as she flopped down onto the cushions. “More like a strategic retreat.”

  Zee poured her a glass. “So, you’re really not going back?”

  She shook her head. “No. Finally realized teaching’s not for me. And since I quit as Byron’s TA, I can’t afford graduate school anymore.”

  “Couldn’t you be somebody else’s TA?”

  “I don’t know anybody else. And I don’t want to, Zee.”

  “Well…what do you want?”

  She shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

  Zee laughed. “Here’s to that!” They clinked their glasses and sipped the wine.

  “Mm,” said Loni, settling back into the sofa. “Feels like I never left.”

  “So, was it awkward with Byron?” Zee asked.

  “A little. He cried, which was embarrassing. Kept saying how sorry, sorry, sorry he was. Like he’s been saying for three months.” She drank another mouthful of wine. “And of course he begged me to come back.”

  Zee almost spat out her wine. “You’re kidding!”

  “I don’t mean to live with him,” she said. “Just to be his TA again next year. Funny enough, once I’d moved out, we got along much better than we ever had. He knows he’s going to have trouble replacing me. No one wants to work for him, after…you know.” She touched the scar on her forehead. It was really a very small one, far smaller than Zee would have thought given that it had taken eleven stitches.

  “But…didn’t he already have some woman lined up who wanted the job?” Zee asked. “The one he offered it to, before you took it?”

  “You mean Tammi Monckton?” She shook her head. “He lied about that.”

/>   “What?”

  “I called her,” Loni explained. “A couple of weeks ago. I thought Byron might offer her the job again, and I figured she might have heard about the whole domestic violence thing and would maybe turn him down. So I thought I’d do the decent thing and talk to her, set the record straight, let her know the whole thing was largely accidental. She wouldn’t have to worry about him going off on her.”

  Zee nodded. “And?”

  “And she didn’t want the job. She never had. Byron had completely made that up to try to pressure me into accepting the position back when I hadn’t made up my mind yet.”

  Zee’s jaw dropped onto her chest. “You’re joking.”

  “Oh, there’s more,” she said. “He also lied about writing the online reader comments for my book. I went and e-mailed a thank-you to everyone who posted a review, just to see what happened. And I got back some nice replies. All from real, actual people.”

  When she could manage to speak again, Zee said, “He really is a steaming turd of a human being, isn’t he?”

  Loni laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Well, I would. On your behalf.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t bother. There’s no punishment you could inflict on Byron that’s worse than the one he’s already suffering. He has to get up every morning and be him.” She raised the glass to her lips. “Trust me, the guy’s his own worst enemy.” She took a sip. “But enough about him. Let’s talk about a real man. How’s Lockwood?”

  Zee curled her legs up under her and gave a coquettish little purr. “Fine. Still a total sweetheart.”

  “He’s treating you right?”

  “Oh, hell yes.”

  They laughed. “And didn’t you mention he’s got a new band in one of your e-mails?”