Wicked Beat
Page 26
“Nothing,” she assured him. Her heart was thudding as she approached Marcus, who was connecting wires to a soundboard next to the stage. She really didn’t want a confrontation with the guy.
“Um, Marcus?” she asked.
He glanced at her and then turned his attention back to his work. “What?”
“I seem to have misplaced my brother’s notebook. Have you seen it?”
“Nope.”
He plugged in another wire, and she could tell their conversation was over. She wasn’t sure if she believed him or not. He probably knew exactly where her notebook was, but she wasn’t going to accuse him. The guy already hated her enough.
“Okay, thanks,” she said.
She could probably hook up most of the sound equipment from memory. It was the nuances of Dave’s specific configuration that concerned her. She wanted everything to be perfect for this show. She wanted to make a good impression on the band. She wanted to prove to them that she could do this job and prove to herself that she wasn’t destined to be a failure in everything she tried.
She got to work. Since Eric was already at his drum kit, she did his sound check first. Within two minutes, Marcus headed over to bitch at her. “You need to get the guitar amps hooked up before you start the drum sound check.”
Even though he was standing way too close to emphasize his height, she didn’t back down. Not an inch. “You do things your way, and I do things mine.”
Marcus stared with his mouth hanging open. She turned back to her soundboard, ignoring him as he stood gawking after her. By the time she had Eric sounding awesome, the crew had the white baby grand piano set up stage right. She worked out a few different mic setups. Eventually, Jace wandered in to help her get the piano acoustics right by playing the intro to “Sever” over and over until she was satisfied with his sound.
“Sounds great, Reb!” Travis called from the stage rigging high above. He was doing something with a laser light and trying to get it lined up with the piano. The shiny white paint would pick up the colors of the light show. Rebekah couldn’t wait to see it in action.
“Don’t blind me while I’m playing,” Jace called up to him.
“Do you mind playing it one more time?” Rebekah said. “I think I’ve got it, but I want to make sure.”
Jace grinned and nodded. The guy was so freakin’ cute with his bleached blond spikes and dark beard stubble. His sweet little smile coupled with the downward cast of his dark eyes had her momentarily befuddled. When Jace’s fingers swept across the keyboard, she snapped out of it.
“That piano intro is awesome, Jace,” Rebekah said as he finished the piece again. “Did you write it?”
Jace flushed and shook his head. “Brian wrote the original as a guitar solo, and Eric adapted it to the piano. I just play it.”
“Does the new album have a lot of piano segments?”
Jace shook his head again. “Just a couple. We weren’t sure how the fans would respond. So far, they seem to like it.”
Eric appeared next to Rebekah. “Understatement. The single is doing better than any in our past. Tripod, you rule!” Eric knuckle-bumped Jace, who beamed at his compliment.
Jon Mallory wrinkled his nose and kept trying to get the bass line of the song right. Since it wasn’t one of the songs he’d written when he’d been part of the band, Jon had never played it before. Which was quite obvious by the chaotic sounds coming from his instrument.
“Damn it. I cannot get this triplet thing,” Jon complained. “Why the f**k did you have to make it so complicated?”
“Because Tripod is awesome,” Eric said. “I inspired him to become a bassist, you know.”
Rebekah smiled at his obvious pride. “I did not know that.”
“I wish I’d never told him,” Jace said. He slid from the piano bench. “I’m never going to live it down.”
“A man’s got to brag when he has a reason to,” Eric said and pounded Jace on the back enthusiastically.
Rebekah laughed. “I think you’re supposed to be humble about stuff like that.”
“Psssh, f**k that. Always take credit where credit is due. Especially when you’re solely responsible for inspiring the best bassist who ever lived.”
Jace flushed.
“Whatever,” Jon grumbled.
“Come on, Jon,” Jace said. “I’ll work on the bass line with you.” He strode over to the side of the stage and picked up his shiny black bass guitar.
Jon looked torn between offense and gratitude. He sighed loudly and nodded. “I don’t want to f**k it up. Sed’s looking for a reason to hire a studio musician and send me packing.”
“You could always play a recorded track,” Rebekah suggested.
Eric looked at her as if she’d just called his mama a fat whore.
“No?” she said.
“No f**king way. I can’t believe that you’d even suggest it. What do you think we are? Fucking cop-outs?”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t think I can ever forgive you.” He turned his back and strode off.
She watched his retreating back for a scant minute before chasing after him. She must have pushed the wrong button. She hadn’t meant to. When she caught up with him in the middle of the stage, she grabbed his arm and hurried to get in front of him. “I’m sorry, Eric. I didn’t know—”
His attempts to keep a serious expression failed, and his scowl faltered into a grin. “Gotcha.”
Rebekah poked him in the belly, and he laughed. “You were teasing me?”
“Not really. We’re known for our live performance. We really wouldn’t consider using a recorded track, but I’m not really offended that you suggested it.”
“Then why—”
“So you’d pay attention to me.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to your in-your-face honesty.”
His brow crinkled with concentration. “Is it a bad thing?”
“No, just not normal.” She bit her lip. That had come out entirely wrong. He just laughed.
“Normal is boring. I thought we were in agreement on that.”
Well, yeah, but while she struggled to be different, it came naturally to him. In a strange way, she envied his freedom to be himself.
“You are definitely not boring,” she told him. “I can’t keep up with you.”
“I think you’re doing a great job, actually. Most girls would have given up on me by now.”
“Um, Marcus?” she asked.
He glanced at her and then turned his attention back to his work. “What?”
“I seem to have misplaced my brother’s notebook. Have you seen it?”
“Nope.”
He plugged in another wire, and she could tell their conversation was over. She wasn’t sure if she believed him or not. He probably knew exactly where her notebook was, but she wasn’t going to accuse him. The guy already hated her enough.
“Okay, thanks,” she said.
She could probably hook up most of the sound equipment from memory. It was the nuances of Dave’s specific configuration that concerned her. She wanted everything to be perfect for this show. She wanted to make a good impression on the band. She wanted to prove to them that she could do this job and prove to herself that she wasn’t destined to be a failure in everything she tried.
She got to work. Since Eric was already at his drum kit, she did his sound check first. Within two minutes, Marcus headed over to bitch at her. “You need to get the guitar amps hooked up before you start the drum sound check.”
Even though he was standing way too close to emphasize his height, she didn’t back down. Not an inch. “You do things your way, and I do things mine.”
Marcus stared with his mouth hanging open. She turned back to her soundboard, ignoring him as he stood gawking after her. By the time she had Eric sounding awesome, the crew had the white baby grand piano set up stage right. She worked out a few different mic setups. Eventually, Jace wandered in to help her get the piano acoustics right by playing the intro to “Sever” over and over until she was satisfied with his sound.
“Sounds great, Reb!” Travis called from the stage rigging high above. He was doing something with a laser light and trying to get it lined up with the piano. The shiny white paint would pick up the colors of the light show. Rebekah couldn’t wait to see it in action.
“Don’t blind me while I’m playing,” Jace called up to him.
“Do you mind playing it one more time?” Rebekah said. “I think I’ve got it, but I want to make sure.”
Jace grinned and nodded. The guy was so freakin’ cute with his bleached blond spikes and dark beard stubble. His sweet little smile coupled with the downward cast of his dark eyes had her momentarily befuddled. When Jace’s fingers swept across the keyboard, she snapped out of it.
“That piano intro is awesome, Jace,” Rebekah said as he finished the piece again. “Did you write it?”
Jace flushed and shook his head. “Brian wrote the original as a guitar solo, and Eric adapted it to the piano. I just play it.”
“Does the new album have a lot of piano segments?”
Jace shook his head again. “Just a couple. We weren’t sure how the fans would respond. So far, they seem to like it.”
Eric appeared next to Rebekah. “Understatement. The single is doing better than any in our past. Tripod, you rule!” Eric knuckle-bumped Jace, who beamed at his compliment.
Jon Mallory wrinkled his nose and kept trying to get the bass line of the song right. Since it wasn’t one of the songs he’d written when he’d been part of the band, Jon had never played it before. Which was quite obvious by the chaotic sounds coming from his instrument.
“Damn it. I cannot get this triplet thing,” Jon complained. “Why the f**k did you have to make it so complicated?”
“Because Tripod is awesome,” Eric said. “I inspired him to become a bassist, you know.”
Rebekah smiled at his obvious pride. “I did not know that.”
“I wish I’d never told him,” Jace said. He slid from the piano bench. “I’m never going to live it down.”
“A man’s got to brag when he has a reason to,” Eric said and pounded Jace on the back enthusiastically.
Rebekah laughed. “I think you’re supposed to be humble about stuff like that.”
“Psssh, f**k that. Always take credit where credit is due. Especially when you’re solely responsible for inspiring the best bassist who ever lived.”
Jace flushed.
“Whatever,” Jon grumbled.
“Come on, Jon,” Jace said. “I’ll work on the bass line with you.” He strode over to the side of the stage and picked up his shiny black bass guitar.
Jon looked torn between offense and gratitude. He sighed loudly and nodded. “I don’t want to f**k it up. Sed’s looking for a reason to hire a studio musician and send me packing.”
“You could always play a recorded track,” Rebekah suggested.
Eric looked at her as if she’d just called his mama a fat whore.
“No?” she said.
“No f**king way. I can’t believe that you’d even suggest it. What do you think we are? Fucking cop-outs?”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t think I can ever forgive you.” He turned his back and strode off.
She watched his retreating back for a scant minute before chasing after him. She must have pushed the wrong button. She hadn’t meant to. When she caught up with him in the middle of the stage, she grabbed his arm and hurried to get in front of him. “I’m sorry, Eric. I didn’t know—”
His attempts to keep a serious expression failed, and his scowl faltered into a grin. “Gotcha.”
Rebekah poked him in the belly, and he laughed. “You were teasing me?”
“Not really. We’re known for our live performance. We really wouldn’t consider using a recorded track, but I’m not really offended that you suggested it.”
“Then why—”
“So you’d pay attention to me.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to your in-your-face honesty.”
His brow crinkled with concentration. “Is it a bad thing?”
“No, just not normal.” She bit her lip. That had come out entirely wrong. He just laughed.
“Normal is boring. I thought we were in agreement on that.”
Well, yeah, but while she struggled to be different, it came naturally to him. In a strange way, she envied his freedom to be himself.
“You are definitely not boring,” she told him. “I can’t keep up with you.”
“I think you’re doing a great job, actually. Most girls would have given up on me by now.”
