Tonight

Chapter 4

"Baby, come on," Delilah's high-pitched whine sent a stab of pain right in between Dianne's eyes and she couldn't help but shoot her a frigid glare as she continued to yank Joe forward. The handcuffs were starting to dig into her wrist, and along with the flow of emotion she had just felt at the thought of being connected to Joe throughout their whole set, she was feeling a bit worse for wear. However, she thought to herself, Joe had somehow managed to calm her down enough to avoid a major panic attack - and she wasn't sure how. Whether it was his soft voice, soothing words, or that damn thumb rubbing up and down her hand...

No, Dianne thought to herself. Joe did nothing. Besides annoy her. And even if her hand felt curiously empty without his palm pressing against it, she was not going to give him credit for doing anything positive over the last two hours. Which is how long they'd been handcuffed - having spent the last 30 minutes wandering the festival grounds, trying to keep an eye out for this mysterious Mac with his walkie talkie.

"Baby!" Delilah screeched again, causing Dianne to physically recoil at the volume.

"What?" Joe snapped back. Dianne thought she could hear a bit of annoyance in his voice, which gave her some unusual pleasure.

"I want to go get drunk," the blonde whined, tugging on his free arm. "This handcuff shit is ruining everything."

Dianne heard him sigh - a deep and soulful sigh - before he responded quietly, "I know. I'm sorry."

Raising her eyebrows, she shot a look over her shoulder toward the man who she'd been dragging around for the last half hour, surprised by his change of tone. She was under the impression that Joe's relationship with Delilah was on the rocks - he had practically cringed at her arrival, and had done his best to avoid direct conversation with her. Yet, his current tone told a slightly different story - he sounded truly apologetic. While "in love" wouldn't be the adjectives she'd choose to describe them, she could tell that Joe was too much of a gentleman to treat Delilah disrespectfully. It was surprising - she'd had her fair share of run-ins with famous bands while touring, and "gentleman" wasn't the word she'd ever used to describe the lead singers.

She watched in amusement as Joe shot her a look back - and she swore she saw him shake his head - just the slightest bit - as if saying "don't say a word". Dianne wondered briefly if he could read her mind.

"I don't think we're going to find Mac," Oti groaned, "And we're already late for sound check."

"Fuck," Dianne muttered under her breath, checking the time on her phone for what felt like the fiftieth time.

"Maybe we can break the cuffs," Caspar chimed in.

"And where do you suppose we'd find a hammer?" Oti quipped, rolling her eyes.

"Someone has to have one," Amy threw up her hands in defeat. "Wait...Di...isn't James coming up here for the show? Maybe he can stop somewhere and buy a hammer."

Dianne stopped walking, causing Joe to bump in to her, cursing under his breath as his hands instinctively caught himself on her waist. Shooting him another glare, she stepped forward out of his grasp, turning toward her friends.

"How could I forget about James..." she mumbled, raising a hand to her forehead.

"And who, pray tell, is James," Joe asked, in an exasperated tone.

"Her boyfriend," Amy answered for Dianne, a smug smile on her lips. "Her rich boyfriend."

Dianne rolled her eyes. She still wasn't used to calling James her boyfriend - in fact, they hadn't technically defined their relationship that way. James was an investment banker, who spent most of his days slaving away over numbers in a stuffy office wearing a stuffy suit. Three things Dianne hated - numbers, offices, suits. But he was nice to her - when he had offered to buy her a drink after one of their shows, she had accepted. Two months later, he was still coming to their shows. And had made it very clear she was the only one he was seeing. Due to their busy schedule, Dianne hadn't been seeing anyone else either - which left them in the awkward place of defining the relationship.