Amsterdam, Luxembourg, Bonn... one concert after another but each one is different, the atmosphere changes, the band is more or less tired, people sing and scream louder sometimes, one day it was raining cats and dogs and the show got almost cancelled. The Hardcores sleep in the bus, they smoke during stops, Ruby writes new songs every time she has some minutes free in dressing rooms or hotels, we have lunch and dinner with the staff, they sign autographs and pose for pictures, hold orgies in their rooms after a show and I sneak out before things get serious. I've written two articles and sent them to Vanessa, I ran out of clichés about the excitement of shows, the girls' exhaustion, the tour routine, and I've started to write about sensitive issues like drugs and sex, trying not to judge and only provide information respectfully, remaining quiet about certain things not because I care about the reputation of HFDC members but because of their fans. Those your girls sing all the band songs and understand the Hardcores aren't angels but they've idealized them and don't understand how dark their souls can be.
At least now I know Ruby Rose and her friends don't read my articles because they've been stuck to my ass since the moment we set foot in Barcelona, taking advantage of my knowledge of the language to order food and go shopping. They'd think what I write is funny, probably, they wouldn't recognize themselves in my descriptions and would think my style is pompous with an unforgivable lack of curses and dirty words. This week's article will be interesting because I'll describe in detail how fans recognized them in a well-known department store while they were buying more biker jackets and black T-shirts, they surrounded the band asking for autographs and pictures till they became a little too aggressive shoving the others to get closer, and police officers had to cordon off the building and drag the Harcores out through a back entrance, they jumped in a van to go back to the hotel laughing their asses off.
The concert is about to end and 56,000 people sing with Ruby in Barcelona's Olympic Stadium, today was a good night and the girls are enjoying it to the fullest, the audience answers yelling and dancing like crazy and I can't stop smiling: I love to see them like this, doing what they really love, they're natural and funny far away from drugs and paparazzi. Zu starts her drum solo and hits the cymbals like her life depends on it while Lzzy jumps and claps along with the fans, one light blinds me and I take a step to one side, blinking. Suddenly, I realize that Ruby is in front of me, breathing heavily while sweat runs down her skin, her T-shirt with side cuts is drenched and her hair is stuck to her forehead.
"Water..." she mumbles and I rush to take a bottle for her from the small fridge behind me. The singer drinks like she'd spent a month in a desert before exchanging the bottle for a towel that I give her so she can rub her face and arms. "Thank you..." She turns around and takes one of her guitars, running towards the mic again, the audience screams enthusiastically while I turn to throw the towel to the pile in a corner.
"Iselen, I need your help." Vincent grabs my arm and drags me through the backstage despite the concert is still going on. "It's the guy in charge of the security, he comes from the city hall, there's also a police officer and a firefighter... I don't know what's happening, I don't understand a word of Spanish and their English is pretty basic"
"Don't worry, I'll take care of this," I answer while feeling my muscles getting tensed due to my concern when I spot a handful of police officers waiting in a corridor talking to the Hardcores' head of security, we're far away from the stage but music and the audience clapping make the floor vibrate under my feet. "What's wrong?" I ask in my language.
"One of the doors is stuck..." The firefighter smiles and starts explaining me the changes in the evacuation plan. According to him, one of the stadium doors can't be opened completely and they fear a stampede when part of the crowd will try to leave through it, they need to guide those people to side doors and all the security guards must help and cooperate with the police. After some minutes of debate, I manage to make everybody understand what's happening and what' they have to do and the guards head to their positions. I stay with Vincent in the control room holding a walkie in case I need to translate some instructions from Spanish to English and vice versa, but the evacuation plan is good and people leave the stadium slowly and in an orderly fashion after the concert. I relax finally when a police officer tells me the last fans are out of the building and I smile at the manager while walking down the corridor to backstage.
