Some Kind of Hell (3 page)

“Who is in the crowd?” Tripp asked.

“Just a few people,” Logan, “who can sign the band!”

Logan yelled towards the end, taking his voice to a level I never heard. It was kind of sexy when Logan screamed like that. His voice carried and commanded.

The crowd enjoyed the idea of the band being signed, but Logan wasn’t done there.

“So, I have to ask,” Logan said, “are you all enjoying the show?”

The crowd erupted. Logan looked at Tripp and Tripp looked at Tatum.

“I don’t know,” Tatum said. “That was good... but...”

Tripp’s voice overtook the stage. “Make their ears explode! Are you enjoying the show?”

This time when the crowd cheered, it was like before when the band first came out. I had to cover my ears as I screamed.

“Now that’s better,” Logan said. “Let’s give them a little hint at what to do now...
sign the band... sign the band... sign the band
...”

Logan turned his head and listened.

The crowd began to chant it, getting louder by the second.

Sign the band!

Sign the band!

The club started to swell again as Logan, Tatum, and Tripp walked to the side of the stage, handing off their acoustic guitars for their normal instruments. When Logan looked at me again, he smiled and winked. He then showed me a guitar pick between his thumb and forefinger. He nodded and made the motion to throw it. I put my hands out and he tossed the guitar pick to me. I closed my right hand over it and squeezed. I had the sudden urge to cry and had no idea why. I felt pathetic and was almost glad when Logan turned, holding his bass, heading back to the crowd that wanted him so bad.

The rest of the show was as intense as the beginning. The songs were loud and perfect, sounding almost as clear as they did on the local radio stations in MP3 format. The band changed a few things here and there, Tripp letting some of the songs last longer, Tatum adding a few extra drumbeats here and there, but most of all, DownCrash engaged the crowd. They let the crowd sing lyrics and choruses, kept the crowd moving, yelling, and gave them not even a second to think about stopping.

When the show did finally come to an end, it did so with DownCrash playing the chorus to one of their most popular songs over and over... then in genuine fashion, the band took turns to thank their fans. In a quick move, Logan dropped his bass and took Tripp’s guitar. He continued to play along with Tatum, not missing a beat. Tripp then jumped from the stage to the floor and ran up and down along the gate, slapping hands with all the dedicated DownCrash fans. Everyone pushed forward, and I thought people were going to seriously fight to get to him. Tripp took the stage again and took back his guitar from Logan. Logan then walked to Tatum and moved behind the kit. He had a pair of drumsticks next and I watched in awe as Tatum moved away from the kit and Logan took over.

I reached for Maggie’s arm and squeezed it.

She looked at me as I looked at her.

She nodded as if she knew the wild thoughts going through my head.

It was so freaking hot...

Logan played the drums as Tatum took his turn to jump off the stage and slap hands with the fans. When he came back, he went to the drums and he and Logan made their switch again with ease. That left Logan to go see the crowd. He walked slowly, hands out, almost looking a little uncomfortable with so many people touching him at once. But Logan did it. If it wasn’t for the fans, DownCrash would just be a small band. They were on the verge of becoming something huge.

Very huge.

When Logan came to the edge of the stage, he reached for me. He put his hand out and wiggled his fingers.

Hurry...hurry...

The crowd swelled again as Tripp and Tatum kept the song going with Logan off the stage. I put my hand to Logan’s and he pulled. I stumbled towards him, my body touching his sweaty body. Normally, it would have made me cringe, but caught in the moment of rock n’ roll and rockstars, it made me think of sex.

“Don’t leave,” Logan yelled into my ear. “Don’t leave...”

That’s all he said and then broke away, climbing the stage.

He grabbed his bass and DownCrash played together for another minute before the show came to an end. As they ran off the stage, the crowd cheered for them and chanted for them. It took a few minutes for the crowd to finally calm and start to disperse from the club. Some people lingered to hang out at the bar and a voice came over the PA system stating that a DJ would be coming on around eleven for those who wanted to stay.

I looked at Maggie and felt my toes curling. I wanted to get backstage and see the band. I wanted to see Logan. I wanted to touch him, hug him, jump at him. I wanted to celebrate with the band on the amazing show. It suddenly felt nice to be out of my own little calendar obsessed reality and into something else.

We finally did go backstage, and the second we were there, we could hear DownCrash cheering for themselves. Tripp came running out of the small room they were in and grabbed Scarlett, hugging her. When Tatum appeared, Maggie jumped at him again. A few seconds later, Logan stood in the doorway, leaning against it with his thumbs in his pockets and one foot crossed over the other. He looked like the epitome of calm and cool. He saw me and he smiled, nodding. I went to him, standing a foot away, my toes still curling.

“That was awesome,” I said.

“You like the guitar pick?”

“Not that,” I said. “The show.”

“Oh, well if you don’t like the guitar pick, give it back. There’s plenty of girls out there that would do anything to get it.” Logan pushed off the doorway towards me. “And I mean...
anything
...”

I gasped and stepped back.

Was Logan implying that the guitar pick meant something? That I was given, what, the ticket to have sex with him?

I reached into my pocket and took out the guitar pick.

“Take it then,” I said.

Hell no. I wasn’t going to let Logan talk to me like that. Or just assume something from me.

No way in hell.

“You don’t want it?” he asked.

“Not if you think it means something,” I said.

Logan laughed and put his hand over my hand. He pushed down and gently slid my hand - and part of his - into my pocket. He was just there, right there, looking at me again. He didn’t need to say anything to make an impact.

“Look,” he said, “this is going to be a fun night. Hang with us. Whatever you’ve got waiting back in that apartment, leave it there. For tonight.”

I put my other hand to Logan’s wrist and pulled his hand out of my pocket. Of course, I had the guitar pick again. It was a gift, and I wanted it.
Really bad.
Almost as bad as my mind tried to convince me I wanted Logan.

“Whatever,” I said. “Just don’t assume anything. I’m not that girl.”

“Of course you’re not,” Logan said.

I thought for a second he was being an ass about it. Acting cocky, using his rockstar status to win me over. But his eyes were sincere.

“What does that mean then?” I asked.

“Do you have to know everything?” Logan asked. “You have to have it all planned out, right? You keep all those thoughts running wild in your head...”

“What’s the point?” I asked. “Are you going to pick on me all night?”

“No,” Logan said. “I’m going to show you how to celebrate life. Even for just one night.”

I wanted to say more to Logan, but Tripp and Tatum came into the room, with Jason right behind them. I expected to see more people but it was just Jason. The look on Tripp’s face told me he expected to meet some of the record executives too.

“How was it?” Logan asked.

“That was beautiful,” Jason said. “I mean... beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Tatum asked. “I don’t like a rock show being called beautiful.”

“Okay,” Jason said. “Pardon my language, ladies, but it was fucking sick.”

Everyone laughed, including me.

“Okay?” Jason asked. “I’ll say it again.
Fucking... sick
...”

“What does
fucking sick
translate into?” Logan asked.

He took the lead with the conversation, still acting as the businessman of the group.

“The guys I was with loved the show,” Jason said.

“Loved the show?” Tripp asked.

“That’s right. They talked contract, tour, producer, the normal stuff.”

“Normal?” Tatum asked. “That’s not normal for us.”

“Not at all,” Logan said. “What else did they say?”

“They said you need management,” Jason said. “They said you need a professionally recorded demo. They want six songs handed to them. Soon. Because... according to them... there’s a certain producer that has a little down time before his next project.”

“What producer?” Logan asked.

I watched as he swallowed, looking ready to jump out of his shoes.

“Do you guys know who Rockett Royce is?”

“No fucking way,” Tripp said. He stiffened and looked angry. “Don’t fuck with us...”

“Seriously,” Tatum said.

“I’m not fucking with anyone,” Jason said.

“Hold on,” Logan said. “You mean
the
Rockett Royce?”

“Yes,” Jason said. “The same guy that produced the first three albums for Chasing Cross... the guy that perfected their sound and sent them to stardom.”

“Chasing Cross,” Logan whispered and looked at the band.

I knew who Chasing Cross was.

The entire world knew who Chasing Cross was.

They were like the hottest band ever. One of the biggest rock groups in the world. They’ve been touring for ten years, if not more, and still going strong. In fact, they were about to go back on tour after the lead singer and guitarist’s father died.

“Does that mean we get to meet them?” Tripp asked.

“Tour with them?” Tatum added.

“Whoa, whoa,” Jason said. “This is all talk right now. A lot of these guys just blow smoke up your ass to make you smile. But I will say this - if there’s one guy that should produce a full length DownCrash album and send you guys to the stars, it’s Rockett Royce. But first things first, you need management...”

“We need management,” Logan said.

The room began eerily silent. I looked at everyone, including both Scarlett and Maggie. Their eyes were as wide as the boys of DownCrash, waiting for the answer.

Jason put his hands into his pockets and looked around the room. He looked too serious, nodding, thinking.

“What the fuck?” Tripp finally asked. “This isn’t some reality show or something.”

Jason laughed. “Guys, of course I’ll help you. You’re signed, with me.”

I thought the crowd was loud, but it did not compare to the sounds of Tripp, Tatum, and Logan all screaming, gathering around Jason, jumping like fools and cheering.

Jason put his arms out, calling to the guys, but they weren’t listening. Then Jason took both Logan and Tripp by the shirt and threw them back. His strength was intense. He turned and faced Tatum. He put hand at Tatum’s face and smiled.

“Don’t get into trouble tonight,” Jason said. “Go celebrate with these beautiful ladies... and a few drinks.”

Jason shook hands with the entire band and then left.

We all stood in a building silence for what felt like hours. I suddenly felt like I was part of the band, or the group around the band. I had been there to share such a cool moment for them. And as Logan slipped his arm around me and the boys of DownCrash started to cheer again, I felt comfortable... maybe a little too comfortable.

~4~

The last thing I figured they wanted to do was play music. Then again, they were musicians, and it was their life, and part of me knew that’s where they would end up soon enough. When we walked into the garage, Tatum shut the door and locked it while Tripp headed for the fridge. It was stocked with everything DownCrash needed for a party. They drank straight from the bottle and offered us mixed drinks.

I wasn’t in the mood for mixed drinks.

At all.

My little high of feeling like I mattered to the band came to a crashing halt on the car ride to the garage. Maggie wouldn’t shut up for a second about the band, wondering how it would all pan out. How they would go on tour
- maybe even with Chasing Cross!
she said about ten times. How they would record tons of albums, sell millions of copies, all become huge and rich and famous. At one point Maggie even said something about leaving her job to be with Tatum on the road.

And those three words really got to me.

On the road.

That’s where DownCrash was headed. They were too good to stay local. They were meant to be on larger stages with larger crowds. They were meant to be in a studio enjoying the life they worked so hard for. And sure, Scarlett and Maggie were maybe meant to be there too.

Where did that leave me?

All I could picture was Maggie leaving me for something bigger and better than I had to offer. And it made me think of Jared. How we had something that was pretty good. But he decided to get something more.

“I’ll take the vodka,” I said, stepping next to Logan as he poured himself a shot. He handed me the shot glass and smiled.

I certainly wasn’t in the mood for Logan’s shit either. I didn’t need his cocky attitude and his one second, tender look, the next second, I’m a bad boy look. He knew nothing about what I was going through.

Instead of taking the shot glass, I took the bottle.

“Whoa,” Logan said.

I put the bottle to my lips and enjoyed the sting from my tongue down my throat to my stomach. When I was finished I slammed the bottle down and nodded to the shot.

“You can take the shots,” I said. “Don’t spill any...”

Tatum and Tripp laughed, clapping their hands. They instantly began to tease Logan.

“Yeah?” Logan asked.

He turned and threw the shot glass, still full, at the wall. It hit, shattered, and left a dark wet ring of wasted vodka.

“That was kind of stupid,” I said.

Logan grabbed the bottle of vodka and drank from it, matching me.

“Dude,” Tripp said. “Don’t waste drinks.”