Backstage Pass
Page 77
He lifted a hand to silence her. “Do you always talk this much?” he asked. “You must drive Brian insane.”
She laughed. “No, I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
He looked at her. Really looked at her for the first time. “Why are you nervous?”
“I’m in the presence of one of the original guitar greats. I don’t think anyone could make me more nervous. Unless Jimi Hendrix rose from the grave and stood beside me.”
“A Jimi Hendrix zombie would make everyone nervous.” They laughed, continuing to talk loudly because the next song had started on stage.
“Did you meet Hendrix at Woodstock?”
Malcolm shook his head. “I watched him, though. That man could play.”
“Brian’s one of a kind, but I hear Hendrix’s influence in his sound. And yours.”
“Mine? He doesn’t play anything like me.”
“Sure he does. Listen to him. It’s your style with embel ishments.”
“Lots of embel ishments,” he said, but he listened. Myrna suspected this was the first time Malcolm had actual y heard Brian play. She watched Malcolm’s expression change from indifference, to disbelief, to interest, and final y pride. “He does sound a lot like me,”
he murmured. He glanced at Myrna. “With embel ishments.”
“The fans love his soloing style, but without the sensual undercurrents that he borrowed from you, he’d sound flat.”
“Look at him go. I could never keep up with him. He has crazy fast fingers.”
Myrna flushed and averted her gaze. “Yeah.”
When the song ended after a particularly embel ished guitar outro, Malcolm clapped and thrust a fist in the air. “That’s the way to play it, son,” he shouted.
Myrna wished she’d gotten that on tape. She almost had him. Just a little more pushing and she knew she could talk Malcolm into joining Brian on stage. She’d better hurry though, because she only had the span of two songs to convince him.
Chapter 30
Brian chugged half a bottle of water and returned to the stage. The rest of the band got a ten-minute break in the middle of the show. He was not so lucky. Or perhaps he was the lucky one who got the entire stage and thirty thousand fans al to himself. He approached the microphone on the ego riser at the center of the stage.
“It appears I’ve been deserted again,” he said. He glanced at the side of the stage. The audience that mattered to him had disappeared, too. No Myrna. No Dad. At least his mom was there. She waved at him from the crew of men surrounding her. Nothing new there.
Myrna’s absence unsettled him the most. Had he been too hard on her? He should have talked to her before the show. Let her know he wasn’t too upset about her cal ing his father a has-been.
“I was going to play the first riff I ever learned for you tonight, but—”
“He never could play it right,” his dad’s voice interrupted from backstage.
The unmistakable riff of Winged Faith’s hit song “Mystic” blared through the speakers as Malcolm O’Neil headed across the stage in Brian’s direction. Dad was playing on Sinners’ stage. Too stunned to find his guitar, much less play it, Brian stared at him in disbelief.
“Close your mouth, son. You’l swal ow a fly.”
Brian snapped his jaws together, a smile spreading across his face until his cheeks hurt.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our surprise special guest, Malcolm O’Neil of Winged Faith,” Sed’s voice announced from behind the scenes.
The crowd cheered and Malcolm grinned. “Wel , are we going to play them a song, or are we going to stand up here looking stupid al night?”
Brian’s answer was to play the intro to “Mystic” with a few dozen extra notes per measure.
“I told you he never played it right,” Malcolm said into the mic, but he grinned instead of scowling.
“Just spicing it up a little, old man.”
Malcolm laughed.
They played the intro together, Malcolm in the traditional style and Brian with his additions. The crowd ate up every moment. When Eric and Jace joined them after the intro, Brian spun around, startled. Sed sang the opening verse so perfectly, Brian doubted even his father could tel the difference from the original. And then Brian spotted Trey and Myrna standing backstage by the amplifiers. Both of them looked entirely too pleased with themselves, laughing and hugging each other excitedly. So Myrna hadn’t deserted him and he suspected she had something to do with his father’s change of heart. He turned back to the crowd, playing beside his father, his heart ful to bursting. He wondered if Myrna knew how much this meant to him. Probably, but he’d tel her anyway.
The song ended much too soon. His dad handed his borrowed guitar over to Trey. Before he left the stage, Dad grabbed Brian by both ears and touched his forehead to his. “I’m proud of you, son. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”
“I’m proud to be your son, Dad.”
Dad grinned and released him. “That woman of yours is relentless.”
Brian grinned. “Pretty terrific, isn’t she?”
“Don’t let her get away.”
“Not a chance.”
Malcolm took a bow and trotted off the stage. Brian saw his mother launch herself into his dad’s arms and kiss him passionately, her entourage of attentive males entirely forgotten.
Brian decided they’d skip those dinner plans he’d made earlier. Mom and Dad looked like they needed some alone time, and God knew he wanted to express his gratitude to Myrna.
Chapter 31
Myrna waited for Brian to unlock the front door of his apartment. She didn’t know what to expect when he pushed the door open, but a large, tasteful y decorated foyer and expansive, clean, and comfortable living area would not have been her first guess.
“What do you think?” he asked, looking at her with that approval-please expression she’d come to recognize.
“It’s great, Brian.” She kissed his jaw and crossed the threshold. “I love it. Did you decorate it yourself?”
He laughed. “No. Sed had a thing with an interior decorator for a while. She maxed out his credit card, but we got great digs at his expense. If you think this is nice, you should see his place. It’s amazing.”
Myrna set her purse on a marble-topped, cherry table next to the front door and ventured further inside. Brian dropped their suitcases inside the door and locked it behind him. The furniture was heavy and inviting. Neat and masculine. Dark woods contrasted with sage green, taupe, and ivory upholstery. Matching pil ows, rugs, and abstract artwork tied everything together. She could picture Brian enjoying the soothing colors, but the décor didn’t seem to fit his roommate’s style at al . And the place was spotless.
She laughed. “No, I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
He looked at her. Really looked at her for the first time. “Why are you nervous?”
“I’m in the presence of one of the original guitar greats. I don’t think anyone could make me more nervous. Unless Jimi Hendrix rose from the grave and stood beside me.”
“A Jimi Hendrix zombie would make everyone nervous.” They laughed, continuing to talk loudly because the next song had started on stage.
“Did you meet Hendrix at Woodstock?”
Malcolm shook his head. “I watched him, though. That man could play.”
“Brian’s one of a kind, but I hear Hendrix’s influence in his sound. And yours.”
“Mine? He doesn’t play anything like me.”
“Sure he does. Listen to him. It’s your style with embel ishments.”
“Lots of embel ishments,” he said, but he listened. Myrna suspected this was the first time Malcolm had actual y heard Brian play. She watched Malcolm’s expression change from indifference, to disbelief, to interest, and final y pride. “He does sound a lot like me,”
he murmured. He glanced at Myrna. “With embel ishments.”
“The fans love his soloing style, but without the sensual undercurrents that he borrowed from you, he’d sound flat.”
“Look at him go. I could never keep up with him. He has crazy fast fingers.”
Myrna flushed and averted her gaze. “Yeah.”
When the song ended after a particularly embel ished guitar outro, Malcolm clapped and thrust a fist in the air. “That’s the way to play it, son,” he shouted.
Myrna wished she’d gotten that on tape. She almost had him. Just a little more pushing and she knew she could talk Malcolm into joining Brian on stage. She’d better hurry though, because she only had the span of two songs to convince him.
Chapter 30
Brian chugged half a bottle of water and returned to the stage. The rest of the band got a ten-minute break in the middle of the show. He was not so lucky. Or perhaps he was the lucky one who got the entire stage and thirty thousand fans al to himself. He approached the microphone on the ego riser at the center of the stage.
“It appears I’ve been deserted again,” he said. He glanced at the side of the stage. The audience that mattered to him had disappeared, too. No Myrna. No Dad. At least his mom was there. She waved at him from the crew of men surrounding her. Nothing new there.
Myrna’s absence unsettled him the most. Had he been too hard on her? He should have talked to her before the show. Let her know he wasn’t too upset about her cal ing his father a has-been.
“I was going to play the first riff I ever learned for you tonight, but—”
“He never could play it right,” his dad’s voice interrupted from backstage.
The unmistakable riff of Winged Faith’s hit song “Mystic” blared through the speakers as Malcolm O’Neil headed across the stage in Brian’s direction. Dad was playing on Sinners’ stage. Too stunned to find his guitar, much less play it, Brian stared at him in disbelief.
“Close your mouth, son. You’l swal ow a fly.”
Brian snapped his jaws together, a smile spreading across his face until his cheeks hurt.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our surprise special guest, Malcolm O’Neil of Winged Faith,” Sed’s voice announced from behind the scenes.
The crowd cheered and Malcolm grinned. “Wel , are we going to play them a song, or are we going to stand up here looking stupid al night?”
Brian’s answer was to play the intro to “Mystic” with a few dozen extra notes per measure.
“I told you he never played it right,” Malcolm said into the mic, but he grinned instead of scowling.
“Just spicing it up a little, old man.”
Malcolm laughed.
They played the intro together, Malcolm in the traditional style and Brian with his additions. The crowd ate up every moment. When Eric and Jace joined them after the intro, Brian spun around, startled. Sed sang the opening verse so perfectly, Brian doubted even his father could tel the difference from the original. And then Brian spotted Trey and Myrna standing backstage by the amplifiers. Both of them looked entirely too pleased with themselves, laughing and hugging each other excitedly. So Myrna hadn’t deserted him and he suspected she had something to do with his father’s change of heart. He turned back to the crowd, playing beside his father, his heart ful to bursting. He wondered if Myrna knew how much this meant to him. Probably, but he’d tel her anyway.
The song ended much too soon. His dad handed his borrowed guitar over to Trey. Before he left the stage, Dad grabbed Brian by both ears and touched his forehead to his. “I’m proud of you, son. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”
“I’m proud to be your son, Dad.”
Dad grinned and released him. “That woman of yours is relentless.”
Brian grinned. “Pretty terrific, isn’t she?”
“Don’t let her get away.”
“Not a chance.”
Malcolm took a bow and trotted off the stage. Brian saw his mother launch herself into his dad’s arms and kiss him passionately, her entourage of attentive males entirely forgotten.
Brian decided they’d skip those dinner plans he’d made earlier. Mom and Dad looked like they needed some alone time, and God knew he wanted to express his gratitude to Myrna.
Chapter 31
Myrna waited for Brian to unlock the front door of his apartment. She didn’t know what to expect when he pushed the door open, but a large, tasteful y decorated foyer and expansive, clean, and comfortable living area would not have been her first guess.
“What do you think?” he asked, looking at her with that approval-please expression she’d come to recognize.
“It’s great, Brian.” She kissed his jaw and crossed the threshold. “I love it. Did you decorate it yourself?”
He laughed. “No. Sed had a thing with an interior decorator for a while. She maxed out his credit card, but we got great digs at his expense. If you think this is nice, you should see his place. It’s amazing.”
Myrna set her purse on a marble-topped, cherry table next to the front door and ventured further inside. Brian dropped their suitcases inside the door and locked it behind him. The furniture was heavy and inviting. Neat and masculine. Dark woods contrasted with sage green, taupe, and ivory upholstery. Matching pil ows, rugs, and abstract artwork tied everything together. She could picture Brian enjoying the soothing colors, but the décor didn’t seem to fit his roommate’s style at al . And the place was spotless.
