The Roadie and Me

And the tour is on.

I lean my head against the back of the couch and take deep breaths. This could be worse. We could be the most unknown band on the planet... but we're not, which makes this a bigger deal than Alex, my manager, is making it out to be. He keeps insisting that everything will be okay, but at this point, I doubt even he believes himself. This band is all I have and I can't afford to let anything bad happen. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath ou-

"Cancel the damn tour?!" I yell sitting back up in my seat. "You're fucking crazy." 

Alex sighs and stays quiet for a while, then finally adds, "Do you have any other ideas? Who else can fill in for Shane on such short notice?!" 

"That's your job," I remind him. "And it was also your job to make damn sure he didn't get into those drugs again, now look where he's at!" In a hospital because of overdose. 

"You're right," he says. Of course I'm right. 

Suddenly Stephen, our drummer busts through the doors of the small practice space, a furious look on his "Beautiful face" as he claims it to be. Conceited bastard. 

"He quit! The little fucker quit!" He rushes out.

"Who?" Alex says standing up. 

"Bob? Billy? Whatever his damn name was! Now who's going to take care of my drums?!"

Perfect. Whats next? Our bassist getting hit by a train?

A roadie having the nerve to quit touring with one of the most famous bands? Idiot. Though I do give the kid some credit for having the guts to tell Stephen he's quiting. 

"Hey, don't worry, a roadie is easy to replace. The real problem is how the fuck are we going to replace our guitarist?!" Alex yells, finally realizing the big deal this is, scaring Stephen a bit.

David, our bassist, walks in followed by our security, Ian, and the three other roadies, who I don't care to remember the names of. 

"So get this," Ian says throwing himself to lay on the couch across from mine. "I know a guy, who's an insane musician, and even better... he's in town!" 

Alex's eyes light up a bit. "Do you think he's willing to tour with us?" he asks sarcastically.

 "He would have to be out of his damn mind if he doesn't want to tour with The Summit!" Ian laughs. 

"Then apparently that asshole was out of his mind!" Stephen shouts. All of the guys who just walked in look confused.

"His little servant quit," I fill them in.

"Ahh," They all say simultaneously

"Any chance that friend of yours can work some magic and poop out a roadie crazy enough to put up with your royal highness," Alex says pointing at Stephen. 

"Actually, he mentioned something of his friend staying with him for the week, he's helping him look for a job. Let's see, a shitty job, or tour with The Summit," He says using his hands as balances, pretending our band is on one hand and the shitty job is on the other. He tosses the 'job' hand over the shoulder. "Ding ding ding! we have a winner!"

The whole room laughs except Stephen. 

"Is he trustworthy? Does he know how to care for instruments? You know I don't let just anyone near my baby," Stephen says referring to his drum kit.

"Relax Stephen!" Ian sighs, "I'm sure with a few minutes on the job you'll bitch at him enough and he'll get the idea of how you want things." 

Where would we be without this man? He does a better managing job than Alex. Maybe a promotion is around the corner.