Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Holy shit. My throat felt ready to close. I forced out the words. “I…don’t know what to say.”
“I can give you a day or so to think about it. Maybe take the time to go online and become familiar with the band? Just get back to me by tomorrow night. I can’t wait much longer than that, since we leave in two weeks.”
My eyes widened. “Two weeks? Wow.”
“Yeah. Take that into consideration, too.”
“How long is the tour? I never asked.”
“It’s four months. Again, this job only encompasses the North American leg. You wouldn’t be working in Europe. So it’s a temporary position.”
Four months.
I can handle four months, right?
Am I actually considering this?
“Okay, well, I appreciate the opportunity. I promise to get back to you tomorrow with an answer.”
“Call me back at this number.”
“Will do.”
I hung up in a daze. What the hell did I get myself into?
After taking a long, hot shower to clear my head, I was no closer to a decision.
I decided to call Leah. We’d grown up together in Shady Hills, Missouri, and she still lived there. Leah was the only person from home I still talked to regularly besides my mother.
Since no one knew the real reason I’d ventured out to the desert today, when I started my story I told Leah a white lie about hoping to meet the band after getting a tip about a hidden recording studio out there from our mutual friend Ryder.
“I can’t believe you lied to that manager guy,” she said. “But what’s the harm if he believed you, right? I mean, you have been looking for a job. Maybe this is fate. Besides, it’s only four months. Do you know how fast that will fly by?”
“Are you saying you think I should take it? Go on the road with them?”
“You have nothing better going on, right? Seriously, this is the best way to kill some time while you’re trying to figure your life out.”
“If I don’t get killed first.”
“You’ll be fine. You’ll be surrounded by people. Nothing is going to happen to you. Think of it as an adventure. Do you know how many people would die for this job?”
“I feel kind of guilty that I don’t appreciate it more. It should go to someone who does.”
“Like this girl, Stacia, I work with,” Leah agreed. “She has a tattoo of Tristan’s face on her side. But that’s not even the crazy thing. When he was in Missouri once, she found out he’d gone to a local salon for a trim. A woman who worked there knew how much Stacia loved him, and she swept up his hair and gave it to her. Stacia keeps it in a jar! Let that sink in.”
“Stacia sounds nuts.”
Actually, I might’ve been the nuts one. I was considering taking a job I’d been offered because of a gigantic lie.
As Leah chatted away about the girl she worked with and her nutty jar of Tristan’s hair, I decided to throw caution to the wind. It would either be the biggest mistake I’d ever made, or the opportunity of a lifetime. But deep down, I knew I had to take it—for the same reason I’d found myself in the desert earlier.
I interrupted her. “Leah?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna go on tour with Delirious Jones.”
CHAPTER 3
EMILY
No one told me just how exhausting working on a music tour would be.
Don’t get me wrong. It was the most exciting thing I’d ever done in my life. But there was no time to breathe. The action was so fast and constant that every day blended into the next. It had only been a week. Those seven days had gone by in a flash, yet it felt like I’d been here forever and had no concept of the world outside.
There were no set hours. I basically worked all day, with random breaks in between. And I was on call twenty-four hours a day for “emergencies”—like if someone needed something that catering or a delivery person couldn’t fulfill. Having things delivered was a challenge when trying to protect the privacy of the band and keep their location secret. So that’s where I came in, constantly running from place to place.
Delirious Jones had two buses. The main bus carried the band members and their management. The other band employees and I were on the second bus. Then there were additional buses for the crew employed by the tour company.
Sleeping in a bunk with no windows took some getting used to. At night, when we’d take off for the next city, I’d put my earbuds in and listen to a podcast or an audiobook until I eventually fell asleep. I’d drift in and out of slumber all night, often woken by the sound of the motor stopping. The mattress, though, was surprisingly comfortable.
Thus far, the band had done four back-to-back performances, starting in Boston and ending in New York. I hadn’t had many interactions with Tristan or the other guys in the band. Tristan Daltrey sang and played guitar, and Delirious Jones also included drummer Atticus Marchetti and bass player Ronan Barber. Their keyboardist apparently quit a few months back due to some personal problems, so a musician named Melvin Finkle was filling in for the tour. They’d apparently gone through a couple of temporary keyboardists before him.