Текст книги "Insider"
Автор книги: Olivia Cunning
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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 34 страниц)
Twenty-Four
Needing something to do with her hands besides put them all over Logan, Toni switched on her video recorder to capture footage inside and outside the limo. After their thirty-six hour marathon of sex, fun, and more sex had come to a climactic end that morning, Toni thought she’d be able to concentrate on her work today. But all the man had to do was sit beside her and she was wondering how long she’d have to wait before she could get him naked.
Unfortunately, getting naked wouldn’t be happening soon. The line of Exodus End fans in front of the record store was five deep and wrapped around the block.
“Looks like we’ll be here for a while,” Logan said.
Darn. She hadn’t known what to expect at a record store signing in Billings, Montana. She should have known that fans would drive for miles for the privilege of meeting the band.
The limo drove around to the back of the store and the band members were escorted inside by Exodus End’s security team, which had arrived a few minutes before them. Once again Toni was allowed to follow them behind the scenes. They ended up in a storeroom where some woman fussed over Max’s hair for ten minutes. Toni snapped a couple of pictures, not sure if she’d include a chapter on preparation for public appearances, but it was better to collect too much information than not enough.
Noting that her video camera was already out of storage, Toni put a new memory card and freshly recharged batteries into the device, which she could also use to take still shots. Someone stepped up behind her, and she knew by the way her body yearned for his that the person was Logan.
“I am so horny right now,” he said into her ear. “And it’s all your fault. I can’t stop thinking about my cock in your mouth with that thing up my ass. You give the best wakeup calls.”
She grinned to herself. She liked her newfound power. That thing had been a prostate stimulator, and she was now an expert at its usage. She could set the man off like a rocket in seconds. If they’d been alone, she might have discreetly rubbed up against him, but she was still too skittish to do something that bold in public.
Once the band members were seated at a long table near the back of the store, security opened the entry door and allowed ten people inside. Toni recorded one of them being patted down and having a metal detector run over his body. She’d wait until he finished talking to the band before she asked him to sign a release form. She decided to stick with this guy through his entire meeting. He was probably in his midthirties and was tattooed from head to toe. That didn’t mean he didn’t squeal like a schoolgirl when he got to shake Dare Mills’s hand.
“You are a god, dude! A rock god,” he professed.
“Nah. A disciple at best,” Dare joked.
The tattooed man held his forearm out to Dare. “Sign right there under the band logo. I’m having it fucking inked there permanently.”
While Dare carefully signed his name with a permanent marker under the gargoyle that loomed over the band’s name, the man started telling him about all the Exodus End concerts he’d been to. “I saw you in Hamburg, Germany, a couple of years ago. There were a hundred thousand people there. They never have concerts that big in the U.S.”
“I remember that show,” Logan said. “It rained buckets. Everyone was drenched and muddy. Max got shocked by his microphone.”
“He did?” the guy said, eyes wide. “I never knew that.”
“Yeah, just a little jolt,” Logan said, glancing at Max, who was too busy interacting with a female fan to know he was the topic of their conversation. “But the way he talks about it . . .”
“Dude!” the fan said to Logan, apparently just realizing who he was speaking to. “Duuuuuude! Will you sign my arm too? I’ll get all your names tattooed on there. It will be fucking awesome.”
He bellowed awesome like a demon-possessed death-metal singer. This guy was a riot. Toni simply had to interview him for the fan section of the book. She hoped he’d agree to answer a few questions.
Logan signed his name on the man’s forearm and then turned his attention to the giggling young woman holding a life-sized poster of him.
“Will you sign this for me?” Giggle. “I’m going to be at the concert tonight.” Giggle. “If you wanna hook up with me backstage, I’ll rock your world.” Giggle giggle.
Toni had no idea what Logan would have said if she hadn’t been standing right there, but she was relieved when he said, “There’s no after-party tonight, doll. We have to get on the road again as soon as the show ends.”
“What if I follow the bus to your next show? Will there be an after-party there?”
Logan scratched his head. “I think our next party is in Salt Lake.”
Giggle. “I’d follow you anywhere.”
Toni scowled. She wondered if she had any chance at keeping this man’s interest. Did she want to even try? He lifted his sexy eyes to meet her gaze and smiled suggestively. Her mismatched socks melted in her loafers. Oh yeah, she definitely wanted to try.
Through three hours of autographs and hugs, squeals and duuuudes, all the members of the band kept their cool and gave each fan a bit of personalized attention. When Butch announced it was time to go, there was a roar of outrage outside the store. People were still waiting, but the band had to get to the stadium to assist with sound check. Toni wondered how they had the energy for music with all this other stuff clogging up their schedules. Logan stretched his arms over his head, giving Toni a delicious view of his belly. She wondered if he’d like her to lick those abs of his.
Logan caught her drooling over his bare skin and offered her a little wink. Heat flooded her face, and she decided now was a good time to interview the record store employees. She needed to get her mind off Logan’s fascinating body and back on the job she was there to do.
All the store clerks raved about the band. The co-owner, who happened to be the owner’s wife, was particularly eager to share her enthusiasm.
“We usually only get unknown bands in here. Maybe twenty people show up to their signings—usually the band members’ moms and girlfriends. This is beyond awesome. I love how an act as huge as Exodus End is willing to take time for little record stores like us.”
“It’s because you have the best water,” Steve said, tilting his nearly empty glass in her direction in an informal toast. He downed the rest of his water in one gulp and then signed the bass drum skin that some wanna-be drummer had just slid onto the table in front of him.
“You, dude, are the god of drummers,” his fan proclaimed. “No one tears up a set of skins like Steve motherfucking Aimes.”
Interesting middle name. Toni wondered if the guys ever tired of fans calling them gods. If she had a dollar for every time she’d heard them called gods today, she could retire to the Caribbean and spend her days on the beach sipping mai tais.
“We really need to leave, guys,” Butch said, obsessively checking his watch now.
“Then we’re taking the long walk around the building,” Max said.
“Absolutely not!” Butch said.
Toni wasn’t sure what was meant by “the long walk,” but she followed the band as they stood, thanked the record store owners—smiling for pictures with them that were sure to grace the store’s walls in gilded frames before nightfall—and then headed out the front doors, where the waiting crowd was still milling.
“We have another engagement,” Max yelled over the screaming crowd. “We have to do the rest of this like sluts.”
Steve tilted his head, his brow crinkled. “Fast and easy?”
“Exactly.”
And thus began the assembly-line signing. The band started at one end of the crowd and signed anything shoved in their face—music scores, guitars, CDs, posters, boobs, T-shirts—if it had a surface, it got a signature. There wasn’t time for much personal interaction, but none of the band members seemed to mind all the touchy-feely going on. Toni would have taken a swim in a vat of hand sanitizer after being grabbed by that many strangers.
The band reached the end of the line, lifted hands of farewell to the enthusiastic crowd, and dove into the limo like a synchronized swim team. Toni scrambled in after them, followed by Butch. The rest of their security team got into a minivan and they all headed off to sound check.
When they arrived, crew members were putting the final touches on the stage assembly. So much was happening all at once that Toni didn’t know where to start with her data gathering, so she mostly gawked.
“Close your mouth or you’ll attract flies,” Steve said.
Her jaws snapped shut, and she shoved him.
“Where did Logan go?” Steve asked. “Didn’t get to see much of him yesterday. I have to tell him about the twins I meet at the bar Monday night.”
“Female twins?” She was teasing, but Steve scowled.
“Yes, female twins. I thought I made it clear that I’m one hundred percent heterosexual.”
“I didn’t mean to insinuate . . .” She cut off her apology and slapped him on the arm. “Don’t be so sensitive. I was just joking.”
“Oh.” His gorgeous face lit up with a smile. “Good one, Toni.” He returned her slap on the arm.
“What time do they start setting up the stage?” Toni asked. It was an amazing work of engineering. Assembling the hydraulics must take hours. Disassembling must take just as long. And then they had to load it, drive it to the next destination, and assemble it again. Toni suspected the road crew needed those days off even more than the band did.
“Hell if I care,” Steve said. “Why don’t you talk to Colby? She’s the head engineer.”
Toni’s eyes widened. “You have engineers?” She wondered just how many hands it took to put this tour together.
“I wouldn’t step onto that moving drum platform without them. So where’s Logan?”
“I don’t know. He said something about going to the dressing room.”
“Thanks.”
He turned to go, but Toni called after him. “When you find him, give him a kiss for me.”
Steve stopped in his tracks and turned to scowl at her. It must have occurred to him that she was teasing again as a grin soon replaced his frown. “With extra tongue,” he promised and strode toward the backstage area.
Toni went off in search of Colby the engineer. After asking around, she was directed under the partially assembled stage. She located the woman cussing up a storm under Logan’s platform.
“These things aren’t designed to carry that much extra weight.” Bang! Bang! Bang! A hammer ricocheted off a metal bar. “Next time one of them wants to bring a guest up on their goddamned platform, they’d better fucking ask me first.” Bang! Bang! Bang! Colby shifted the hammer to her other hand and wiped the first hand on her grease-smeared coveralls. “Fucking thing!” Bang!
Toni cringed, realizing she was the extra weight the engineer was cursing about. Toni started to back away. She probably shouldn’t bother the woman. Especially when she was busy repairing Logan’s hydraulic lift.
“Did you need something?” Colby asked, apparently catching Toni’s movement when she attempted to slink off.
“You’re busy. I don’t want to bother you.”
“Bother away.” Bang!
“Um, well, I’m writing an interactive biography on the band.”
“So you’re the one who bent the support bar.” Bang! Bang!
Toni placed a hand on her belly. “I have been meaning to go on a diet.”
Colby laughed. “It’s already too late for that.” Bang! Something snapped into place. “Got it!” She slid out from under the platform and wiped her face on her sleeve.
Toni gaped at her. Not only was the band’s head stage engineer a woman, but she was ancient. Perhaps if Colby didn’t curse like a drunken rock star, Toni wouldn’t have been so stunned to find herself face to face with a woman old enough to be her grandmother.
“So you’re writing about the band and . . . ?” Colby twirled one hand at Toni to encourage her to get on with it.
“And I want to include a chapter on stage setup.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s interesting and not many people get to see all the work that goes into the show before it even starts.”
“Colby, are you ready to test it?” someone called under the stage.
“Give it a go!” she shouted. To Toni she asked, “So what do you want from me?”
“When you’re not busy, I’d like to ask you some questions and record some footage of the stage being erected and torn down. Maybe do a time-lapse video.” Toni nibbled on her lip, trying to come up with something that hadn’t been done a thousand times before. “Maybe one of the crew could wear a head camera as he goes about his work. That would pick up some really neat footage.”
Colby tilted her head and assessed her for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, I’ll talk to the crew and see if any of them are willing to be your guinea pig, and then I’ll let you know which day would work best for filming. They’re going to want to put on their makeup.”
Toni smiled. That had been easier than she’d anticipated. “Great!”
Metal groaned as Logan’s lift shuddered and rose several inches. “No good!” Colby yelled, and the grinding sound stopped. “Stupid fucking thing.”
“I won’t take any more of your time,” Toni said. “I hope you get the lift fixed.” Mostly because the man she loved had to ride that thing to the stage later that night.
“Oh, I’ll get it fixed.” Colby dropped down to slide under the metal platform again. Bang! Bang! Bang!
Toni emerged from beneath the stage and blinked in the sudden bright light. Crew members were testing the functioning platforms by riding them up and lowering them back down. Or maybe they were just goofing off since they seemed to be having a lot of fun taking turns launching each other onto the stage.
“There you are,” Logan said.
“Did Steve find you?”
“To brag about banging a pair of twins?” He grinned and nodded. “Yeah, he found me. What were you doing under the stage?”
“Talking to Colby about capturing footage of the crew at work.”
Logan nodded toward the stage, where one crew member had just catapulted off Dare’s lift with a loud yeehaw! “Are you sure that’s work?”
“Just because work is fun doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong,” she repeated what he’d told her a few days before.
He laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We’re getting ready to do one of Mad Dog’s famous sound checks. I thought you might want to get some work done and film it.”
“Famous sound checks?” She winked at him. “They can’t be too famous. I’ve never heard of them.”
“They’re legendary among soundboard operators. And they’re also fun.”
A legendary, fun sound check? Now this she had to see.
Toni immediately understood why Mad Dog had been given his nickname. With impressive jowls, small dark eyes, underbite and upturned nose, he looked like a bulldog. But not a mad dog—either angry or insane. He was incredibly nice to her as she stuck a camera in his face and asked how he’d met the band. But Toni supposed the nickname Friendly Dog wouldn’t have given the desired impression.
“Can I try first this time?” asked a cute blonde with lavender streaks in her hair.
“I don’t see why not,” Mad Dog said.
“How many soundboard operators does Exodus End have?” Toni asked.
“I’m FOH.” Mad Dog patted her hand and leaned close. “That stands for front of house,” he said quietly. “And Trevor is our monitor engineer. He’s up by the stage.”
Toni turned to the other two people in the barrier fence situated in the center of the arena. In addition to the blonde, there was a young man in a wheelchair. “So you two are?”
“Sorry,” the blonde said. “I should have introduced myself. I’m Rebekah Sticks, co-FOH for Sinners, and this is my big brother, Dave, who sometimes lets me touch his soundboard.”
“I’m also FOH for Sinners,” Dave said as he shook Toni’s hand.
“Is it usual to have two FOH engineers?” Toni asked.
“Nope,” Dave said, “but her husband’s with the band, so they won’t let me fire her.”
Rebekah slapped her brother on the shoulder, and he winced.
Mad Dog spoke into his microphone, and his voice was projected through the arena. “Sound check one.”
No less than fifteen men and a few women took the stage, each carrying a different electric guitar or bass. Toni spotted the familiar faces of the Exodus End guitarists, along with several Sinners’ band members and half a dozen people she didn’t recognize. Several loud blangs and pings blared from the speakers as the musicians arranged themselves on the stage. Some faced forward, but most formed mixed groups so they could chat with each other.
“What’s going on?” Toni asked.
“Mad Dog likes to show off,” Dave said.
“Hey,” Mad Dog said, “when you’ve done eighteen billion sound checks in your life, you have to do something to keep it entertaining.”
“I’m going to get it this time,” Rebekah said. She put on a set of headphones, flexed her fingers, and held them hovering over her soundboard sliders, buttons and switches as if she was about to play a rousing game of Whac-a-Mole.
Mad Dog’s voice came over the sound system again. “Ex-End will play ‘Bite.’ Sinners will play ‘Twisted.’ The rest of you just make some noise.”
“Twisted,” Rebekah whispered under her breath. “Focus. Focus.”
“And a one and a two and a three,” Mad Dog said.
Everyone onstage started playing at the same time. Toni cringed at the wailing, screeching cacophony blaring from the speakers. Face screwed up in concentration, fingers trembling, Rebekah began to move sliders on the giant soundboard in front of her. The raucous sounds coming from the speakers began to alter. The obnoxious blanging noises disappeared first, and then several blended melodies increased in volume. Rebekah raised one slider, cringed, and then shoved it back down before raising the one next to it. A few more adjustments, and Toni was astonished to hear the unmistakable music of “Twisted” blaring from the speakers. The drum track was missing and there were no vocals, but rhythm, bass, and lead guitar were all clear as day. Rebekah did a little dance of victory. Toni looked up to the stage and found everyone onstage was still playing. Sinners’ FOH had picked out the threads of her musicians based on sound alone.
Dave high-fived his sister. Toni would have high-fived her as well, but she was trying to hold her camera steady while she gawked at Rebekah in awe.
“Cut,” Mad Dog said. “Not bad. I heard only one mistake that time.”
He’d heard it?
Rebekah sighed. “Can’t get anything past this one,” she said as she pushed all the sliders to the top of the board.
“Do we have the mics ready?” Mad Dog said.
“Mic check.”
“Mic check.”
Mic check, mic check, mic check was repeated in different voices from various microphones all feeding into the same sound system.
“Vocalists take the stage,” Mad Dog said. “And Steve, get under there and give us a beat.”
The drum kit was already assembled under the stage.
“It’s hard because you don’t know which piece of equipment is attached to each set of sliders,” Rebekah said. “Mad Dog knows his soundboard so well, he can pick up on slight variations between the channels.”
“You can do it too,” Dave said.
“I’m getting there,” Rebekah said, blowing out a long breath. She dropped down beside Toni on a folding chair, and they both watched Mad Dog do his thing.
This time when Mad Dog instructed everyone to begin, there were various voices and drums added to the mix. There was no need to pick out the drum track—as there was only one—but with a few flicks of the FOH’s wrist, the sound of the drums came alive. After a couple dozen more motions from Mad Dog, Toni found herself listening to an Exodus End song. She could hear a bit of the other singers onstage—their voices carried through the air—but every sound coming from the sound system was pure Exodus End.
“And that, my friends, is how you mix a live show old school,” Mad Dog said.
“Show off,” Rebekah said with a giggle, but she hopped out of her chair to kiss the man on the top of his shiny bald head.
The meet and greet that evening was a subdued occasion compared to the one in Oregon. There were no protestors picketing the venue, and the security team had no problem keeping a handle on things. Toni chatted with several fans, noting that whenever the fan happened to be male, Logan mysteriously appeared at her side.
As the food was brought in for their evening meal, Reagan got in line behind Toni. “I haven’t gotten to talk to you all day,” she said. “How did things go with Logan yesterday?”
Toni flushed remembering all the naughty things he’d done to her body in the hotel. She was definitely missing their alone time today and couldn’t wait until their next day off.
“We had a great time,” Toni said.
“He’s treating you right.”
Toni nodded. “He’s the best.”
“Are you still planning on riding up on my platform tonight? I have the cutest outfit you can wear.”
Toni cringed. Not about the outfit, about the platform. “About that . . . Apparently my fat ass broke Logan’s platform last night. They were under the stage trying to fix it earlier.”
“Fat ass? Where?” Reagan slid her hand over Toni’s rump to flatten her skirt. “Please. If your ass is fat, mine is a vat of lard.”
Reagan stuck her butt out to prove that hers was bigger than Toni’s.
“Damn, woman,” Trey said from behind them. “Can I get through one meal without you giving me a hard-on?”
Reagan giggled. “I hope not.”
A pair of strong arms circled Toni’s body from behind. Logan’s hands cupped her breasts and lifted them. “So I heard your enormous tits broke my hydraulic lift last night.”
“Now that I believe,” Reagan said.
Toni flushed as everyone within hearing laughed at her expense. She shoved Logan’s hands from her boobs and turned sideways to discourage him from grabbing them in public.
Logan kissed her briefly. “Thanks for saving my spot.”
“Back of the line, Schmidt!” Steve called from several feet behind them.
Toni grabbed Logan’s arm to make sure he stayed beside her. She felt they hadn’t spent any time together all day and if standing in the chow line was their best opportunity to see each other for a few minutes, so be it.
They did get to sit together through dinner, but Dare chatted with Trey, which meant Reagan talked Toni’s ear off about customers she’d had when she worked as a barista, and Steve told Logan—yet again—about his latest adventure with some twins and a couple of other women named Candice and Tonya. Steve’s mantra of “You missed out, dude!” was starting to play on Toni’s last nerve. Even though she didn’t talk to Logan much through their meal, his knee was pressed against hers beneath the table and he had a wonderful habit of touching her bare wrist whenever their hands weren’t otherwise unoccupied. Strange how after all the intense sexual encounters they’d shared the days before, those little touches meant so much to her.
She was almost finished with her dinner when a strange rumbling seeped through the walls and into her bones. She cocked her head to one side, listening. “What is that? An earthquake?”
“The first opening band is starting the show,” Logan said.
The rumble was greeted by enthusiastic cheers and screams, all muffled by the thick concrete walls of the corridor. “Oh!” she said. “Sinners?” No, that couldn’t be since their rhythm guitarist was still at the table deep in conversation with his brother.
“Sinners is on third tonight. That would be Riott Actt.”
She knew of them. She’d listened to some of their music when she’d been researching Exodus End and found out that they’d be one of the two opening bands on this tour. She’d also done research on Hell’s Crypt, but that band hadn’t lasted long in the lineup.
“Do you ever watch the opening bands?” she asked.
“All the time,” he said with a smile. “I might be a rock star, but I’m still a metal fan. Do you wanna watch from backstage? It’s a perk of the rock star gig; we always have a backstage pass.”
She nodded eagerly. This was a neat little glimpse into Logan the metal fan. Logan the man. It was just the kind of thing she wanted to include in their book, the kind of detail that the fans wanted to see—a peek into Logan’s reality. Toni reached into her pocket to set her camera on record. She’d captured a ton of footage that day, so she hoped there was enough memory left to record Logan enjoying Riott Actt. It certainly sounded like the audience in the stadium loved the band’s set. She was sure the entire state of Montana was vibrating from the combined sounds of the band and the audience. Could that much noise trigger an actual earthquake? She wouldn’t doubt it.
Making their excuses and leaving the remnants of their dinner behind, Logan took Toni’s hand and led her through the backstage area. They passed many security guards, but no one stopped them or questioned them. They recognized Logan, and it was clear that she was with him. Walking with Logan was much different from her experiences of trying to make her way through the backstage area on her own, where she was stopped so frequently, she’d started showing her press pass to anyone with eyes.
Logan pushed open a set of swinging doors, and Toni was assaulted by sound. She winced. Logan squeezed her hand and led her around the side of the stage to a set of steps. He didn’t even hesitate climbing them to stand in the wings and as he still had Toni’s now sweaty hand trapped firmly in his, she had no choice but to follow him. The band was finishing up their first song. Their lead singer jumped from a riser to the stage on the final note, punctuating the sound with the thrust of his arm and the microphone in his fist.
Logan cheered with the rest of the crowd, but Toni was too busy staring at him to give the band onstage its due. Logan had come alive. Switched on in a way she hadn’t seen before. She’d watched plenty of footage of him onstage and witnessed secondhand what an outstanding performer he was, but being here with him in the flesh gave her an entirely new insight that no video could convey. So how could she show this side of him in the book? Could she capture the life in him, the vibrancy? She wasn’t sure it was possible. The energy coming off him was almost tangible. His love for music, that was what she was seeing. No, what she was feeling. But how did she show the world how remarkable it was? How remarkable he was?
Matt Chesterfield was onstage chatting with the crowd in a heavy British accent. Toni tore her gaze from Logan to look at the vocalist.
“We’re amped to have the opportunity to play for the amazing metal fans in the Billings area. How many of you came to the show just to see us tonight?”
There was a mild spattering of applause, mostly from a small sector in the pit near the front of the stage. The lead guitarist leaned toward his microphone and said, “Well, that’s a bit disappointing. I don’t think we’ve rocked their faces off enough yet.”
Logan chuckled. “God, I remember being an opening act for a bigger band. You feel so fucking privileged to be allowed on the stage, to share the excitement of a famous band’s fans, but you feel like such a douche bag for pretending anyone gives a shit that you’re there.”
Toni couldn’t imagine Exodus End ever being in a position of smallness. It seemed to her that they’d always been marked for great things.
“Who’s here to see Twisted Element?” the singer asked about the other opening band, which would play a set after theirs was over.
A bit more applause and cheers sputtered from the crowd.
“Steve got Twisted Element to join the tour. He’s really good friends with their drummer,” Logan told Toni.
Zach Mercer. She already knew about his friendship with Steve. “Is it common for members of different bands to be good friends?”
He gave her an odd look. “Well, yeah. We’re all in this together, aren’t we?”
“Aren’t they your competition?”
He shook his head. “Our brothers. If we’re going to keep rock alive, we have to work together, not against each other.”
She smiled. That was a nice way of thinking about the music business. She wondered if the record label executives shared that point of view.
“Okay, I think I see some Sinners fans in the audience,” Chesterfield said, shielding his eyes with one hand against his forehead as he scanned the crowd.
“Maybe a few,” the lead guitarist’s words were mostly drowned out by the screaming, stomping, whistling, and clapping going on in the stadium.
A chant of “Sinners, Sinners, Sinners” began to rise up through the ranks.
“Who else is playing tonight?” the vocalist asked. “I forget.”
The audience erupted into chaos as they very loudly informed the world that Exodus End was playing.
The vocalist pointed to his ear. “What was that? Did you say Exodus End is playing here tonight?”
Toni had to cover her ears due to the volume of the crowd. When the roar died down a bit, she lowered her hands and fixated on the vocalist, hanging on his every word.
“Get the fuck out. Exodus End is going to be on this stage in less than two hours?” He jabbed a pointed finger toward the stage beneath his boots. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Logan chuckled. “He’s really getting them pumped up,” he yelled over the noise of the cheering crowd. “I hope we live up to their expectations.”
Toni glanced at him, beaming an exuberant smile in his direction. Of course they would live up to the fans’ expectations; they’d exceed them. She didn’t doubt it for a second. She wondered if they were ever swamped with self-doubt the way she was. Not likely.
Riott Actt finally began their second song and Toni tried to keep track of all that was occurring onstage. The flurry of activity was overwhelming. She didn’t know whether to watch the pacing vocalist, the wailing guitarists, or the rhythmic stylings of the drummer and the bassist. She glanced at Logan for direction and tried mimicking his devil-horn-shaking, head-banging, body-thrashing celebration of the music, but ended up feeling like an awkward fool.
“I have got to get in on that circle pit,” Logan said unexpectedly. He pecked her on the cheek and then vaulted himself over the stairs to the floor before hurdling the railing and several members of the audience and disappearing into the crowd. It took Toni at least half the song to comprehend what he’d done. She finally found the mental capacity to close her mouth. She stretched up on tiptoe and craned her neck, trying to see down into the audience and the writhing chaos occurring in a round area that at first appeared empty, but was actually the center of activity. Bodies bounced off each other around the periphery—shoving, stumbling, thudding, dancing, or maybe they were fighting. Hell, she couldn’t tell. It looked just plain violent from her vantage. She caught sight of a blue T-shirt, a tangle of golden wavy hair, and hard-muscled arms covered with sleeves of familiar gray-shaded tattoos. When Logan slammed chest first into a member of the audience, she cringed and hid her eyes behind both hands. What was he thinking? What if he got hurt and found himself unable to perform? How could he want to be involved in something that had to be painful?
