The Devil's Tattoo (7 page)

“Dark, dirty, face melting, wet dream,
sweaty
rock’n’roll
.”

"I think we
like you guys."

“Like?” I exclaimed.

"Okay, okay.
We bloody love you guys. We’ve
gotta
get you in the studio next time. I know
Robbo
would
love you guys on the breakfast show for Cover Wars.
"

My ears pricked up at the mention of this.
Cover Wars was a weekly segment where bands get to play one of their songs and
a cover version live on air. I'd love to do it.

"For sure," Frank said,
excited. "We've got some things up our sleeve. Hook us up."

"
Oh, I'm sure we'll make it
happen sooner rather than later, but the next thing everybody is dying to know
is when's the album out? And when are we 
gunna
 see
some more live shows?"

"We've had the album recorded for
some time. It’s going to be out in two weeks, to coincide with a little tour we
have planned, but you’ll have to wait for that to be announced properly,"
Frank said deviously.

"Hey, Frank. Are we even allowed
to tell ‘
em
about this yet?"

"Too late!"

Everyone laughed. This interview
business wasn't half as bad as I though it was going to be.

"
So much exciting news from the
camp! So, what’s the album called?"

"
Do Me A Favor
."

"
What’s the story behind
that?"

“It’s what Zoe says to Dee all the
time. Do me a favor and shut the hell up.”

“He’s really annoying.”

"Especially when he tunes his guitar."

"He takes forever."

"
Oh man. You guys sound like a
lot of fun to hang around
."

"We're like a family," Frank
agreed.

"
It's been great having you on
this
arvo
. Shame
its
been so
short.
"

"Thanks for having us," I
said.

"
Not a problem. Any time. Right
now, we've got a song that you guys have picked out for us. Tell us what it is
and why you chose that particular song
."

"This is
Future Starts Slow
by the Kills," I said. "We chose it because it's great and if there
was one tune out there that explained us as a whole and what we're about, it's
this one."

"
I agree and I
think Australia would as well. This is a killer track. Cheers,
guys. Thanks again for stopping by.
"

As the song came on and we're off air,
Hugo thanked us for hanging out with him again and the call ended.

A text came through on my phone,
vibrating in my pocket. I laughed when I saw
who
it was from and what it said.

Dee:
I thought I told you to say
nice things about me?
xxx

I text him
back
:
But you do take forever to tune your guitar.

"Do you
wanna
come over now?" Frank asked. "I know we've got two hours or
so until rehearsal, but I can give you a lift."

"Sure," I said. "Just
let me get my stuff."

I was on a high after that interview
and was dying to know what the details were for the tour. Where we were going,
how many shows, how we were getting around. I'd never really thought about how
bands toured and now that we were about to do
it,
I
was more than a little excited. It was going to be great to get out of town for
a while and to do it with another band would be even better. I had so much to
learn about everything and I was keen to see how things worked in bigger
venues. Even if it
wasn't
The Stabs, I'd still feel
the same way.

At the thought of touring with them for
five weeks side by side, my stomach fluttered and I knew that this crush I'd
developed on Will Strickland was going to be trouble. All caps, bold,
underline, strikethrough.

CHAPTER SIX

WILL

In a roundabout way you could probably
say that I'd done one over on our record label. We'd pushed so hard to get The
Devil's Tattoo on tour it was like a picket line of union workers at a stop
work at some factory somewhere. I swear I was that close to chucking a tantrum.
I'd driven our manager Dean to hell and back. It all depended on if the band
could commit or not, so when they'd agreed, I was suddenly anxious.

I didn't know anything about Zoe
Granger outside of music. I knew what she thought about things from her
interviews, but she never ever spoke about anything personal. She could be
anyone and the thought hadn't crossed my mind until now. And Pete had kept his
word about being hands off. He, and the others, didn't say a word about it and
I was thankful. I really was coming across like a crazy stalker.
That, I had to tone down.

We'd been away in New Zealand for the
past week and a half, so we hadn't had the opportunity to meet The Devil's
Tattoo. Tonight was the first gig of the tour and I swear I was more nervous
now than when we'd first started. Pete and I went ahead of Sticks and Louie and
got to the
Hi-Fi Bar
in record time. I was dying to hear the band sound
check and I was also dying to see Zoe Granger in the flesh again.

They were standing on stage when we
walked in, the harsh light of day flooding into the dark room and they all
looked up at us. I suddenly felt self-conscious, but my eyes latched onto Zoe
and any rational thought I'd had just flew out of the window.

She looked different somehow from the
last time I'd seen her. It was that gig back at
Cherry
and I wondered if
it was because of their success or just life. Something had happened and she
looked more beautiful than I remembered.

As soon as they started playing, I knew
I'd made the right decision. Not only for my selfish ass,
but
for the band. Zoe didn't open her eyes the whole time she sang and the way
she played was phenomenal. It was like it was second nature to her and I
wondered if she'd really been playing for three years like she'd said in
interviews. Maybe she
was
that talented.

It didn't register when the others
turned up and stood with us watching, nor did it when they tried to make jokes
at my expense. Pete dragged me side of stage, so we could get our gear as The
Devil's Tattoo finished up.

When they did come off stage, I don't
know what came over me, but before Pete, Louie or Sticks noticed, I ducked
backstage and hid in the band room. What the hell? Was I some scared little boy
now? I'd built up this image of her into something I wasn't prepared of letting
go if she turned out to be someone else.

"Uh, Will?" It was Dean.

"What?"

"Are you hiding?" he asked
with a chuckle.

"No."

"Uh, yeah. You're hiding."

Right now, Dean's most likeable trait
was pissing me off. He told it like it was and never in a nasty way. He had a full
beard and tattoos all over and was all the
more friendlier
for it.

I scoffed at his comment. Yes, I
was hiding.

I was saved from more of his commentary
when the others came in and started hauling our gear to the stage. I took the
opportunity to busy myself and try and still my shaking hands. I swear I was
about to die.

After we finished our sound check, I
saw Zoe and some of the guys from her band sitting along the stairs. Swallowing
my fear, I took a deep breath and walked over.

It was now or never.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

ZOE

The
Hi-Fi Bar
 was probably
one of my
favourite
venues in Melbourne. It has an
upstairs area with a bar, where people can view the stage from above and down
below there is a section set down into the mosh pit with four or five steps
leading outwards, so there's a better view of the stage from most angles. I've
seen so many shows here and it's a dark, but airy place with great acoustics.

Today is the first show of the
Walls
on Fire
tour. The label came up with the idea to merge the names of both
our current singles. Our song,
Walls
, and The Stabs' song,
Fire
.
To date we hadn't had the chance to meet any of the members of the band we'd be
spending the next five or so weeks with. It kind of annoyed us a little, since
we were going to be with them for so long, but Simone said they'd been in New
Zealand doing a few gigs. Pete, their singer and guitarist had sent us an email
saying how excited they were, so that was nice enough.

There was a support band as well as
us
and The Stabs and it was our turn to sound check. I
haven't a clue what I'm meant to do, so I enlisted the help of one of the tech
guys from the venue to help me out. A few more times and I think I'd have this
which cord in what plug scenario down pat.

So, I'm standing on stage all
rock’n’roll
like with my beloved black sexy as hell
Epiphone
slung over my shoulder playing the opening bars
of 
Walls,
 Frank singing ‘Why are we waiting, slowly
dehydrating’, Chris banging his head against his microphone, waiting for Dee to
hurry the hell up and tune his new Gibson when the side door opened, letting
the harsh daylight into the dark and dirty room. Of course we all look up at
that moment, because who wouldn't, and see two of the four members of The
Stabs walk in like they owned the joint.
I saw a shock
of curly hair and for whatever reason
,
I rolled my
eyes
. Chris winked at me and I flipped him off.

“When you’re ready, pansy boy!” Frank
yelled at Dee, oblivious as usual.

When he was finally good to go, we get
on with sound check and for whatever reason I’m nervous. I didn't open my eyes
the whole time, the chords so familiar my fingers just flew over the strings
and the words came out of my mouth. I'm on autopilot and when the song ended, I
could scarcely remember playing it at all.

"
Zo
Zo
," Frank called out to me, snapping me out of my
haze. “Get up here, sweetness,” he patted the top of the bass drum. “
Gotta
make sure it doesn’t fall over."

I jumped up on the step and stood on
top of the drum and gave it a little wobble. “Steady as she goes.” It had been
Dee's idea to amp our show up a little for this tour. Up until a few gigs ago,
I'd pretty much just stood on stage and played, hardly moving a
metre
away from the
mic.
We
closed our set with a fast and dirty
rock'n'roll
song
and there was the perfect lull, right before it ended, that he said would look
pretty sweet if I jumped up onto the kit and played the last few bars up there.
And he'd been right, of course. A photo had been published online and to my
surprise, I
kinda
looked
good.

One of the tech guys came along as I
wiggled the bass drum around and Dee eyeballed him. “Move this kit and you’re
dead. She falls off and breaks
somethin
’, you’re
mine.”

“Take a chill pill, Dee.” I smiled
apologetically at the guy and he shrugged. I handed him my guitar and jumped
back down onto the stage.

We unplugged all our effects peddles
and guitars as the drum kit was rolled off stage on it's little platform so The
Stabs could do their thing, but they didn't seem to be in any hurry as they
loitered in front of the stage. Two had become the complete set of four. I
could feel them watching us and I did my best to ignore them for now and
concentrate on what I'm doing. I kind of felt intimidated by them. They're on
album number three, so they've been around for a long time already and we've
just started.

When we wandered off stage, they came
up to us and introduced themselves and thankfully for now, Will Strickland was
absent. They all seemed very nice and welcoming and offered to give us some
pointers if we needed anything. Pete was their guitarist and vocalist. He was
tall and wiry, and his dirty blonde hair hung in his eyes, pushed forward by a
black hoodie that seemed to be perpetually over his head.
Sticks
was
their drummer and he reminded me a lot of Frank. He was just as
muscled and rough around the edges, but he smiled and was nice to talk with.
And Louie was their other guitarist. He had a slick haircut that was combed
back into a
quiff
, so he and Dee had a lot to talk
about and there were various tattoos on his arm and one that peeked out of his
v-neck
t-shirt on his chest. Where mine were Japanese style
dragons and flowers, his were traditional roses, pinup girls and what looked to
be an eagle on his front.

We made ourselves scarce from the
backstage area while they set up and sat together on the stairs towards
the back of the room. As they sound checked, I leant my chin against my hand,
letting my fringe fall into my eyes. As a complete set of four, they looked
quite good together. I watched them run through a few songs, just like we had
earlier, my eyes not missing a beat. As they adjusted their equipment on stage
and tested
mics
, I took everything in.

Dee elbowed me. "They're
quite efficient, that lot," he said as they finished up.

"They've been doing it for a
while."

"Do you still have a crush on
him?"

I almost choked on my own spit.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"I never said I did," I
hissed.

"Well you better figure it out,
Zo
Zo
."

"Why?"

"Cos he's coming this way."

Before I could do anything, Dee jumped
to his feet and walked away as fast as he could, leaving me in the lurch. I
swallowed hard and looked back toward the stage and Will was walking towards me
and I mean it's just me. Everyone else has bailed and I wondered if I was that
obvious.

I stood as he approached, determined to
get through this with my dignity intact, but he's just too good looking and the
way his hair was falling into his eyes…

“You’re…”

“Zoe,” I said abruptly, snapping out of
it and almost falling down the stairs. My back is to the stage now, and I hoped
the light is hiding the massive blush that's crept onto my face.

“Yeah, I know.” He hid a small smile,
signaling it didn't.

I’m kind of surprised he knew my name,
but I let it slide. “I would like to say I know your name, but I don’t.”
Total lie.

He laughed at my bluntness and said,
“I’m Will.”

“Nice to meet you, Will.” I looked him
up and down and he smiled in a way that would melt the knickers of any two-bit
groupie, but I tried to keep mine on.

He took my hand and shook it, even
though I didn't offer it to him. If this
was
one of
those soppy romance novels, I would think that he was trying to find an excuse
to touch me, but it's not and it's probably just weird.

Behind him, I caught Simone giving me
a vigorous thumbs
up from where she's been setting up the
merch
table. When he
realised
I
was looking at something over his shoulder, he looked back and she turned
around quickly, pretending to tape a shirt to the wall.

I bit my bottom lip and began to back
away awkwardly. Will looked back at me, a confused expression on his face and I
couldn't help but feel stupid. The last thing I wanted was for him to work out
I had an unobtainable crush on him. Rejection day one of the tour would be
painful and I'd have to live with it for five weeks straight.

"See you round," I stuttered
and pretty much fled the scene. See you round?
See you round?
 This
was like one of those teen movies where the popular boy deigns to speak to the
unpopular, slightly geeky girl.

It was strange how one encounter with
Will Strickland made me crash back down to earth. Like all the work I'd done in
the last few months had been nothing but a facade. I was awkward and shy again.
I hoped when the lights went down and I stood on that stage later, that the new
Zoe would come back out with a vengeance.

The rest of the night I managed, with
quite some skill, to avoid
Will
like the plague. I
stood side of stage and talked with the guys from the support band and to the
venue staff,
monopolising
on their knowledge. It was
amazing how far I'd come, even to me. Before Dee conned me into joining the
band, I wouldn't have been confident enough in myself to even approach anyone,
let alone talk to them.

Standing side of stage also afforded a
good glimpse at the crowd that had amassed and I hadn't really focused on
ticket sales, but Chris told me that it was a sell out. That meant almost eight
hundred people had crammed inside the venue and would see us play. And bloody
hell, did we play. We got such an overwhelming response it picked up my mood
from earlier significantly.

Glancing side of stage mid-set, I was
surprised to see Pete and Will watching
us and when they saw
me looking,
Pete smiled and Will gave me a little wave. All I could do
was grimace and look away as we went into another song. Don't get sucked in,
Zoe. Don't get sucked in.

When we're finished, I exited off the
opposite side and began to put away the gear as the change over began. As our
stuff came in, we packed it away into their hard cases ready for tomorrow. We
had to be up early for a flight to Brisbane and everything had to be secure and
ready to go.

The bar stayed open after most of the
punters had left - a few stragglers and the rest of the bands hung around
talking to fans and each other. I helped Simone clear the
merch
table and pack the remains of our stuff away.

"You guys killed it tonight,"
she said, bright and happy. "We made a bunch off
merch
,
too. Almost everything I brought in is gone."

"Really?" I said, surprised.
"That's awesome."

"There'll be like fifty hot
looking guys out there with Devil's Tattoo t-shirts tomorrow."

"Ha," I laughed.

"Oh, hey," Simone exclaimed
when a guy stepped behind the table. "This is Dean, the Stabs' manger and
merch
table bitch."

"Hey," he exclaimed with a
grin and held out his hand to me. "Zoe, right?"

"Yeah," I said and took his
hand and shook. Appropriately, he wore a Stabs shirt and scuffed up jeans and
he sported a full beard that made him look a little rough around the edges.

"You guys were fantastic," he
said. "You gave the boys a run for their money, I tell
ya
.
A girl like you
playin
' rock like that?" He let
out a slow whistle.

My default response was to blush.

"She doesn't see it," Simone
told him.

"Rule number one of owning that
stage, Zoe, is to work everything you've got. A girl like you in a boys club
like this is
dy
-
na
-mite."

I laughed and scratched my head.
"Okay. Advice noted." I pointed to the boxes of t-shirts. "Do
you need help with this?"

"Hell no," Dean nudged me
towards the bar. "Go and party a little. You
earn't
it tonight."

Instantly, I'm accosted by a couple of
guys who tell me how much they loved the gig and how much they like
Walls
.
I shied away a little, but they weren't over the top about it and it made me
feel a little warm inside that something I wrote spoke to them. I'm nervous
enough that I looked around while I listened politely and I couldn't help but
curl my lip up in disgust when I caught sight of Will Strickland in full
man-whore mode. He was leaning up against the bar, talking to a pretty girl.
She was tall and willowy with long brown hair and was wearing short shorts with
boots and a tiny little cut up t-shirt.
The kind of pretty
that I'm not.
He was standing too close and even though the music isn't
up very loud, he leant in to hear everything she was saying like it's an excuse
to press into her. When his hand settled on her hip, I bit back an annoyed hiss
that had been working its way up my trachea along with a pile of vomit.