See You at the Show (2 page)

Within a couple of years of Stevie joining them, Black Rock Diamond had become one of the hardest working and most successful bands around, and they’d deserved it.
 
Now, with all those years of hard work behind them, they were about to embark on their first ever stadium tour, and thanks to their loyal and extremely supportive following excitement and anticipation about the gigs was rife.
 
They’d made it big not only in the
U.K.
and Europe, but also in the
U.S.
too, which Stevie knew, more than anything, had been Johnny’s dream.
 
World domination was in progress and she was part of that ride.
 
And loving it.

They were here in
Ibiza
to play at a week long rock festival on the island, renting this amazing hilltop villa for the duration of their stay.
 
They’d been here for two days – they were due to play their set on the final day of the festival tomorrow - and all they’d done so far was party hard and sleep very little and she was starting to feel the effects of it all catching up with her as she opened the French doors that led into the open plan kitchen and living area.
 
She couldn’t help looking forward to her bed, or whoever’s bed it was that she eventually slept in, she didn’t care.
 
She was just looking forward to sleep.

Grabbing a beer from the counter top she took a long swig, nearly choking on it as somebody grabbed her from behind, their soft, low Californian drawl immediately giving away their identity.

“Hey, I wondered where you’d got to.”

Stevie turned round and smacked his arm.
 
“Jesus, Johnny!
 
You scared the fucking life out of me!”

Johnny started laughing and she smacked him again, laughing herself.

“Mark’s looking for you,” he said, grabbing the bottle from her hand and taking a drink.

“Is he now.”
 
It wasn’t a question.
 
And she’d stopped laughing.
 
She snatched the bottle back and leaned against the counter top.
 

Johnny put his hands in his pockets and looked at her.
 
“He’s sorry you know.”

Stevie took another swig of beer.
 
“He’s always sorry, Johnny.
 
So yeah, I know he is.”

She put the almost empty bottle down and pushed herself up to sit on the counter top, tucking her legs up underneath her.
 

“I know what he’s like, Johnny.
 
I’ve known what he’s been like for years so it’s ok.
 
Don’t apologise for him.
 
He’s big enough to do that for himself.”

“And I will.
 
If you’ll give me a chance.”

Stevie looked up at the sound of that unmistakeable deep, Californian accent.
 
Mark Cassidy.
 
Black Rock Diamond’s front man- and the drug Stevie Stone just couldn’t give up.

CHAPTER TWO

Johnny Jackson and Mark Cassidy had grown up together in the same neighbourhood in
Burbank
,
California
, and all they’d ever wanted to do was to be in a band.
 
Their
band.
 
A band that they’d put together themselves, and plans had been put into action almost as soon as they’d started High School.
 
They’d taught themselves to play guitar, and by the time they were in college they’d put together several line-ups, tried different roles, but there’d only ever been one style of music.
 
Rock was all it was ever going to be.
 

They both had parents who’d brought them up to the sounds of The Who and The Rolling Stones, Genesis, Fleetwood Mac, and Free, to name but a few, and they’d used all of those influences, combined with their own style of heavier guitar based rock, to create the sound that was to unmistakably become Black Rock Diamond.

After graduating college, neither of them had wanted to take that route to normality.
 
Jobs, wives, kids – it wasn’t in their futures.
 
Their parents had been - and still were - doctors and teachers and they’d expected their sons to forge out professional careers of their own.
 
They’d thought that the music, the band, that it had all been a phase.
 
At most they’d prayed it would stay nothing but a hobby.
 
But Johnny and Mark had had a dream, and they’d been more than determined to follow it through.

So, along with a couple of their college friends, they’d spent years setting up gigs and playing in towns and cities all across America, driving themselves in a beat-up old van with equipment they’d managed to put together through money saved from various jobs they’d worked throughout college.
 
But after too many nights of half empty bars and seedy nightclubs, combined with the odd wedding and birthday party, playing to people who’d just wanted music and didn’t care where it had come from, both Johnny and Mark had known it was time to re-think their plans.

When the other guys in the band had decided it wasn’t for them anymore, Johnny and Mark made the decision to try their luck over on the other side of the
Atlantic
.
 
Scouring bars and clubs in
London
over a period of months they’d finally come across Billy Fox, a Manchester-born drummer who’d been spending his time gigging with any band that had needed him.
 
He’d been – and still was - a quiet, unassuming man with a serious girlfriend and a love of gin and tonics and to look at him, with his short black hair and clean shaven face, nobody would have thought he was anywhere near rock star material.
 
But after a couple of drinks and around people he felt comfortable with he could let his hair down and party with the best of them.
 
Mark and Johnny had liked him immediately.
 
He was a calming influence.
 
They’d wanted him in their band and Billy had been desperate for a break.
 
They’d had ambition and he’d liked that.
 
Black Rock Diamond had their drummer.
 

Two weeks later they’d met Jack Warner at a post-gig party.
 
With his shoulder length dirty blonde hair, ever-present stubble and dark green, brooding eyes he’d looked far more like your stereotypical rock star.
 
A young Keith Richards almost.
 
But he was an amazing bass guitarist and he’d been looking for a new band, not to mention a new start in general.
 
After marrying his childhood sweetheart in his home town of Edinburgh, he’d soon realised that settling down wasn’t for him and after less than a year he’d made the escape to London to chase his rock star dream.
 
Divorced and living the life he’d always really wanted, Johnny and Mark had turned up at just the right time.
 
And so Black Rock Diamond had been well and truly born.

They’d spent years travelling around Europe and the
U.K.
getting their faces known and their music heard.
 
They’d been hard working and more than ambitious.
 
They’d known what they wanted and they weren’t going to settle until they’d got it and that hard work had finally paid off when a record label boss had seen them at a German music festival propping up the bottom end of the bill.
 
He’d asked them to send in some demo tracks, which they’d done with almost immediate haste, and less than a fortnight later they’d been signed up.
 
The journey to the top of rock royalty had at last begun.
 

It had meant more work, more gigs and hours in recording studios but they’d been on their way and their dream had finally started to come true.
 
And, of course, they’d made the most of all the perks that came with being up and coming rock stars.
 
There was never a shortage of women at the gigs they’d played, all of them eager to be the next rock star girlfriend, but for Mark, Johnny and Jack they were nothing more then an excuse for a good time.
 
Billy, in the meantime, had gone and got himself married and stayed well away from the majority of post-gig parties, but that was just the way he was.
 
Nobody minded because when he was on stage he was like the second coming of Keith Moon and that was all anyone cared about.

It had been a long time in the making, but now Black Rock Diamond were finally there.
 
They were at that stage where they could command a stadium full of people coming just to see them and it was no less than they deserved.
 
The rock world had waited for a band like them to arrive for a long time and they weren’t disappointing anyone, and as far as the fans were concerned, a lot of that had to do with Mark Cassidy.
 
Despite both he and Johnny trying the role of front man, it had become clear very early on that Mark was the only one who could really do it justice.
 
He had it all.
 
The looks, the sexy swagger, the strong, smooth vocals that had more than a nod to Bad Company and Free front man Paul Rodgers with just a touch of Sammy Hagar.
 
He made sure that Black Rock Diamond had the female following that any self-respecting rock band should have.
 

Thirty-five years old and getting sexier with age he was the ultimate rock star.
 
Six-feet one with messed up short, dark brown hair and amazing deep, almost black eyes, he was very rarely ever seen clean shaven.
 
He had smooth, tanned skin and a multitude of tattoos covering both perfectly toned arms from shoulder to wrists, including the sexiest forearms in the world of rock.
 
He was handsome in every sense of the word.
 
Fit and toned with a look of trouble about him that made him all the more sexy, a smile from him could send women wild and he knew that and he played on it.
 
They loved him, and he in turn loved the adoration.
 
He was never short of attention, and of course he indulged in the odd backstage groupie, who wouldn’t in his position?
 
That’s what he’d always told himself.

Johnny couldn’t argue with that either.
 
Neither of them could say that the women weren’t a massive perk of the job.
 
The best job in the world as far as they were concerned. Also thirty-five years old, Johnny Jackson was almost as good-looking as his best friend, but not quite.
 
Six-feet tall with incredible blue eyes, long-ish, always scruffy-looking black hair and beard, Black Rock Diamond’s lead guitarist was every inch the archetypal rock star.
 
Quite muscular in build and with tattoos covering his back, neck, chest and both arms, he loved the life he had.
 
He was living the rock star dream and making the most of every second.
 
He’d never wanted to settle down, and even now he still didn’t.
 
He’d never understood why Billy had chosen marriage over everything that came with being in a band but it worked for him so who was he to argue?

To have the life he had with his best friend beside him was the dream he’d had since being a child.
 
But he couldn’t help feeling sometimes that he was constantly looking out for Mark.
 
His friend was one hell of a guy but he wasn’t always on the ball and after a few drinks too many he had been known to get himself into a little bit of trouble.
 
Mark lived the rock star life almost to the letter, but Johnny was never far away, always there to pick up the pieces and sort it all out because Black Rock Diamond needed Mark Cassidy.
 
Mark Cassidy needed Black Rock Diamond.
 
And both of them needed Stevie Stone.

CHAPTER THREE

Stevie looked at Mark as he stubbed out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray.
 
“And what number chance are we up to now then, huh?”

He shrugged and walked over to her.
 
Johnny shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and looked down at the floor.
 
He more than anyone knew the way these two worked together.
 
And it wasn’t always pretty.

Mark Cassidy and Stevie Stone had a complicated and volatile relationship.
 
It was and always had been a relationship with no boundaries, no commitment.
 
Some had even described it as dangerous, with the shit they sometimes put each other through.
 
But neither of them could leave the other one alone for long.
 
That’s the way it always had been and nobody could see that changing any time soon.
 
Mark would do something stupid; he’d sleep with a groupie, he’d piss Stevie off - sometimes for no reason at all - and the arguments that nearly always followed were legendary.
 
The screaming and shouting, the throwing things at each other, it was never a surprise when it happened and when it did she’d always come running to him - to Johnny - and they’d sleep together, she’d get it out of her system, and before long she was back with Mark and the whole cycle would start up all over again.
 
Johnny knew it backwards now.
 
He knew the way they both worked, and as he watched Stevie’s face change the closer Mark got to her he knew it was happening again.