Page 98 of Dirty Like Brody
“You won’t,” she said. “They’re yourwords.”
Then she handed me a shot of bourbon, which my brother always had on hand before a show, and we all did a shot together, and thatwasthat.
Zane didn’t do a shot. He smoked up with Snake at the side of the stage and watched the room from behind a wall of amps. Zeppelin’s “Heartbreaker” was rocking the place as the crowd’s excitement built. Backstage, though, everyone seemed sorelaxed. Well, kind of relaxed-excited. Dylan sat with one foot thrown up on his opposite knee, in his kilt, idly drumming on his boot as he talked withBrody.
Brody, who hadn’t yet said a word to me or even looked me in the eye, even though I was still staringathim.
Yeah. I couldn’tdothis.
I turned to Jimmy and gave him a smile he couldn’t refuse. “Can I borrowyourhat?”
It smelled of Jimmy’s guy shampoo as I pulled it low over my eyes. Then I pulled on my leather jacket and slipped past Jude. If I left without telling him, though, he’d be pissed. Plus, he’d come looking for me. So I leaned intoMaggie’sear.
“Give me two minutes to get out there, then you can tell Jude whereI’vegone.”
“Oh, Jesus.” She gave me a sharp look ofdisapproval.
But she letmego.
I snaked my way out through the throng of security guys; they were too focused on keeping people from entering backstage to care about me exiting. And within seconds, I was in another world: the frantic beating heart of the crowd, pumping with blood; roaring like it was hungering for blood. I melted into it and managed to slither my way up close to the front of thestage.
People were packed in tight, bodies pressed together and facing forward, waiting for the show to begin, screaming and shoving and laughing and wrangling for position, for the best vantage point. For the best spot to see Zane’s face, or to be seen by Zane. But if you knew how to wait for the small openings, to shift when the crowd shifted, to make your gains footbyfoot…
A guy stood back to let me in, and as I settled into the little notch of space in front of him, I heard him say to his friend, “Soon as the show starts, that ass’ll be wiggling all overmydick…”
He was talking about my ass, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t staying long anyway. Just long enough to see… tofeelthe show the way it was meant tobefelt.
From the midst of the crowd packed in so tight they could barely breathe, so ravenous for Dirty, they’d let themselves bleed if theyhadto.
* * *
Istayed out there,willing to bleed, a lot longer than Imeantto.
Once Dirty took the stage, I just couldn’t find the will to go. Zane was all gorgeous and spun of gold, like a sun god under the lights, or maybe a sex god, in his skin-tight white shirt with the sleeves cut off and his nipple piercing showing through, his smoldering, powerful voice ramming into every dark crevasse at the back of the bar. My brother was quite the god himself in his leather pants, wailing on his guitar. Ash, who’d joined the band just for the night to cover rhythm guitar, fit right in with his sexy tats and edgy vibe. Dylan, as usual, was a total powerhouse on drums, like an octopus with his arms flying around. And Elle, in her extremely short skirt and embroidered tights, her platinum-blonde hair in a killer fauxhawk, slamming on her bass, was a freakin’ idol to every girl who’d ever dreamed ofrockingout.
I was blown over by the sheer force of it. Not just the volume or the energy but the giant, pumping fist of it, battering at the crowd, pulling us up by our hair and slapping us allsilly.
I couldn’twalkaway.
I kept telling myself,Just one more song… but I wasaliar.
The power of the show, like I’d predicted, could barely be contained on that tiny stage. I kept wondering, as the floor shook beneath my feet, if we were all going to die in a massivecave-in.
But what a waytogo…
I just tried to be careful not to blow my voice by screamingtoomuch.
I kept my jacket zipped and my elbows at my sides so I wouldn’t get groped. I felt the guy behind me put his hands on my hips, but he let go when I glanced back at him and shookmyhead.
I saw three different girls get topless in the crowd and wondered at their bravery… orstupidity.
I saw someone throw up, right in the middle of thecrowd.
I saw peoplemakingout.
I almost got kicked in the head, five different times, once by a stiletto heel, as people crowd-surfed.
Halfway through the show, the guy next to me took out his dick. I was too shocked to believe what I was seeing; I couldn’t have gotten out of the way fast enough if I’d tried. For a split second I thought he was jerking off. Then I realized he was pissing in hisbeercup.
