Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Ryan downed the soda she’d ordered at the bar. They were in Hartford, Connecticut. She felt the stage fright creeping up but ignored it. Once they’d gotten through the first couple of shows, her anxiety had eased a lot, even if it hadn’t faded entirely. Word was getting around about the tour as well. Old fans and new were posting to the band’s Facebook page which was like free publicity as people reviewed past shows and noted upcoming ones. They’d all been surprised and excited to see links to some of their performances show up on the page as well. Most of the videos uploaded were lacking in either sound or video quality, but a few were crystal clear in sound and focus. Their manager, Jocelyn, was working hard to get them some attention. Ryan had no idea what would happen, but was enjoying the ride. “Hey, Ryan, you okay?” Lara slid onto the stool next to her. She touched edge of the bar and made a face. “Ew,” she said under her breath. “If my mom was here, she’d go at this place with bleach. And then a flamethrower.” Ryan tried to smother a laugh. “No kidding. So where were you?” “Stepped outside to call Trout.” “How is he?” “He’s good.” Lara smiled. “He’s been working on our website. I feel bad it got kind of lost in the shuffle with other things, but he’s got the time now.” “That’s great. Tell him we appreciate it.” “I will. How’s Brody?” “Good. I haven’t talked to him in a few days. Since the Scranton show, I guess. I think he’s playing tonight, I’ll have to check.” “Everything okay?” Lara asked. “Yeah, sure.” Ryan was puzzled. “Why?” “I don’t know. You guys were talking and all almost every day but it seems like it kind of fell off. You haven’t said anything but I just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.” “Yeah, everything’s fine.” Ryan blinked. “Wait, you think something’s wrong because we’re not talking every day?” “No, Ataşehir escort bayan no. I was just wondering.” “Well, I mean, it’s fine. I think. It’s just that we’ve been busy and so has he. With the games and the shows the same nights sometimes it’s hard to find time to talk. Plus we’re traveling during the day and he’s practicing and—” “Ryan, Ryan, relax.” Lara patted her friend’s shoulder. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. There’s no right or wrong time to talk to him. Why don’t you call him now?” Ryan checked the time. “He’s probably playing now.” She turned to Nate. “Hey, Nate, do the Caps play tonight?” “Nope. Tomorrow.” He looked up from his phone. “I was just checking baseball. The Nats are really hot right now.” “Good to know. Thanks,” Ryan said. “Do you want to call Brody now?” Lara asked. “We’re not going on for another half an hour or so.” “I’ll try later or tomorrow.” Ryan stood and stretched. “It’s late and if he’s not playing, he’s probably sleeping. I don’t want to bother him.” “Okay. I’ll be back in a few minutes, I just need to fix my hair and all.” “You look fine.” Ryan smiled. “Thanks, but you know I can’t go on without taking one last look and brushing my hair.” Ryan laughed as Lara walked away. It was true; Lara had her pre-show routine just as Ryan and the others did. Ryan always did a last-minute check on her computer and stuck two or three guitar picks to her mike stand. Lara insisted on checking herself in a mirror. Since she was the singer, and out front more than the others, Ryan couldn’t hold it against her. She was about to ask for another Coke but opted for a Sprite instead. The last thing she needed was more caffeine. The talk with Lara had her wondering: was everything okay with Brody? As far as Ryan knew it was. She did miss talking to him Escort Ümraniye but the last few days had been pretty hectic with all the traveling. Brody had sent a couple of texts, and she’d replied, but he was busy, too. She didn’t expect to talk to him every day. Wasn’t it a good sign, she thought, that they didn’t have to talk all the time? Or did it mean that instead of absence making the heart grow fonder, it just made things fade away? “Crap,” she said out loud. “I don’t need to be thinking about this before a show.” “Thinking about what?” Mitch asked. “Yeah, what?” Nate looked up from his sports scores. Ryan turned to them. “You really want to know?” Mitch shrugged. “Sure. We need everybody on the same page. If something’s bothering you, either let us know or put it away until after. So what is it?” What the hell, Ryan figured. They were guys; she’d throw it out to them. “I can’t decide if I’m calling Brody enough. What do you think? Should I be calling him every day? Or is it okay to go a few days between calls? I don’t want to drive him crazy, you know? But I’ve never done the long-distance thing. Is there a set number of days between calls or what? What do guys think about that?” Mitch stared at her, then scoffed. “You have got to be kidding. You’re asking me that before a show? And expecting an answer?” She laughed. “You said you wanted to know.” She hadn’t expected an answer—a useful one—from either of them. “It was rhetorical,” Nate said. “You know, like when people ask ‘how are you?’ We didn’t think you’d really tell us.” Ryan laughed. “Yes, well, my mistake. Come on, guys. Lara’s back; let’s get ready.” Nate nodded and scanned the club. “Yeah, let’s do this. I hate to say it, but I kind of want to get it over with.” Ryan agreed, although she said nothing as they went to get their Bostancı escort instruments. This club had a rougher feeling than the others they’d been to so far. While she wanted the show to be successful, she would be glad when they were done and back at the hotel. The show started well enough with “My Last Mistake” the first number—as usual—and they segued into the next song with no break. The crowd was polite, if not enthusiastic, but that was better than active booing, she thought. Two songs later, she changed her mind: she would have preferred booing. There was some drunk guy with a bunch of friends yelling out whatever came to mind, alcohol having removed any brain-to-mouth filter. She rolled her eyes as she heard him yell out “Free- biirrrrd!” As if no one had ever done that in the past forty years. Ryan wondered if it was the same group that went to every bar, or if there was some kind of franchise where clubs or bars could order the Annoying Drunk Customers. At last Freebird Guy managed to shout out something coherent. “Hey, babe! You with the mike! Let’s see your tits!” Lara and Ryan exchanged glances and Ryan knew what her friend was thinking. They’d had their share of this as they’d been learning the performing ropes at various college gigs. At first Ryan had been confrontational about it, which sometimes was the best course. This didn’t seem like one of those times. Lara grabbed the mike and smiled, waving a finger back and forth in the air. “Sorry, guys, no wardrobe malfunctions tonight. Janet Jackson is not in the house.” That got some laughter, whistles and applause and Ryan let out a quiet sigh of relief, but it wasn’t quite over. “Hey, you with the guitar! Come on, baby! Show us whatcha got!” Ryan smiled and decided to indulge herself. “You want to see what I got?” In response to the shouting and whistles, she stepped back and let loose with a short but searing guitar solo. She slammed into it and her fingers raced over the neck of the guitar, then finished with an abrupt chord. There was more cheering and she turned to Mitch and signaled him to count them into the next song. Nate stepped over to Ryan afterwards.