Different Circles

Another round of high-fives and elaborate G handshakes were exchanged. This carried them all the way to their trailer, where the door was open and the party had already begun, partially spilling out into chairs that had been set up on the desert floor. Obie and Celia were there with Ben’s wife, Ted’s paramedic friends, Mark the pilot, the Rabbi Levenstein and his wife, and all the other specially invited friends and family. Beer, wine, and mixed drinks were flowing freely. Everyone greeted Jake and the band enthusiastically as they made their way into the circle, shaking hands and giving more high-fives and telling everyone how fucking badass that show had been. Nobody seemed to be faking or even exaggerating their enthusiasm. It all seemed quite sincere.

Jake was still feeling a little dehydrated, so he grabbed another quart bottle of Gatorade—the green kind was his favorite—and opened it up. He sat down on the couch and took a few healthy slugs of it, soothing his tired throat. Celia came and sat next to him. She had a glass of red wine in her hands.

“That was an amazing performance, Jake,” she told him. “I have never seen anything like that before.”

“Thanks,” he said, feeling another burst of pride at her praise. Celia, after all, was a professional performer who put on a damn good show herself. Her approval stood a few steps above pretty much anyone else’s. “We put a lot of work into that and there was some definite chemistry between us. Everything just clicked up there tonight. Hopefully, we can do it again tomorrow.”

“I have no doubt that you will,” she said. She raised her glass to him. “To chemistry. It can be a good thing.”

“Chemistry,” he repeated, tapping his Gatorade against her glass. They drank.

“And guess who was hanging out in the SVIP with us, watching your show?” Celia said slyly.

“Who?”

“Matt Tisdale,” she said with a smile.

“Matt was there?” he asked, quite surprised. “No shit?”

“No shit,” she said. “Obie and I both saw him. He stayed for the entire performance.”

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about that,” she said. “Not only did he stay for the whole thing, but I saw him actually enjoying it. He was tapping his feet, nodding his head, and sometimes even singing along.”

Jake had a hard time believing this. “Are you sure it was Matt?” he asked.

“I am absolutely positive,” she said. “I once called Matt a cabron. If I call someone that, I will remember their face forever. It was Matt Tisdale, and he was getting down with your show.”

“Wow,” Jake said. “I wonder what brought that on?”

“Musical respect would be my guess,” she said. “He may not like you personally, but he has to respect you as a musician and a performer, right?”

“I suppose,” Jake said doubtfully.

“Anyway, I thought you would want to know that.”

“Yeah ... thanks, I guess,” Jake said.

Ted called first dibs on the shower. No one disputed this. After all, as the drummer, he was the one who had expended the most energy during the show (Ted had, in fact, lost fifteen pounds since they had started rehearsals just from the sheer aerobic exercise of daily drumming and was now in the best shape he had been in since his early twenties) and the one who had produced the most perspiration.

“Make it quick though,” Pauline told him. “We all need to be showered and ready for the limo to pick us up in ninety minutes. If we don’t leave before the end of Matt’s show, we’ll be stuck here until the crowd completely disperses. With ninety-five thousand people out there, that will literally take hours.”

“Understood,” Ted promised. He then squeezed himself into the tiny bathroom and closed the door.

“All right,” Pauline said, now in manager mode. “Who is going next? You, Jake?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I’ll go next.”

“Okay,” she said. “Get your clothes and stand by. The moment Ted gets out, you get in and make it quick.”

“Yes, boss,” he told her, giving a little salute.

He went and gathered the faded jeans and t-shirt he had been wearing prior to changing into his stage clothes. He also had a pair of clean underwear, clean socks, and a travel-sized container of Old Spice deodorant. Pauline handed him a laundry bag to put the stage clothes in. When Ted emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, Jake stepped in, wincing a little as his nose picked up the evidence that Ted had moved his bowels in the poorly ventilated room before stepping into his shower.