Fifteen Cities

Chapter Six

(San Francisco II)


Author's Note: I've been pretty inspired to write on this story of late; so here is another chapter and hopefully it'll be more satisfactory than the filler chapter. And on a side note, I really like some of the lyrics for "Lady Stardust" by David Bowie; in a way it seems to describe Loki's character (or the evolution of him later on).

As always reviews are appreciated and inspire me to write further! :)


"Stay here,"

"Why? I want to be at center-stage again." Tony glowered at the brunette attached to his arm, somehow showing a great deal of restraint despite wanting to knock her over. "This a nosebleed spot; if someone taller gets in front of us, we're screwed."

"Thor doesn't like to see people he knows in the front row. It messes with his concentration; why do you think I stay back here?"

"I don't know because you've probably seen them play a hundred times and are just plain bored now."

"Calm down, daddy-o," Sif remained attached to his arm still. "I mean it; if he can see your face in the crowd, he has a tendency to get funny. Especially at big shows like this; although he wasn't a fan of seeing anyone he knew back in the minor leagues either."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard," Tony snapped, even though he reserved himself to her will.

It was a pain in the ass to be in someone else's debt. If he hadn't been, nothing would have stopped him from pushing through the building crowd and taking his rightful spot in front of the stage. But Tony knew better than to tempt fate, especially when things had been going in his favor; well, aside from missing Loki Odinson at every turn.

Fate seemed to get a jolly by ensuring that Tony wouldn't meet his idol anytime soon. It was pushing his patience to the brink, but he kept reminding himself that it would happen. They couldn't possibly cohabitate on a tiny old tour bus without running into one another eventually. And there was still the matter of an interview, which meant Loki had to be present whether he liked it or not.

Sif had promised, almost flippantly really, that he'd get his chance sometime tonight; albeit the probability of an interview would be nil. The band was apparently not in their best form, socially anyway, and it would be pushing it to attempt to interview them.

"You'll get the exact same impact from over here," Sif crossed her arms, observing the crowd nonchalantly. "The only difference is you won't have Loki's sweat on you. And I'm sure if you really wanted it, we could work out something with him. Maybe we can steal his shirt; snatch it right off his back."

Tony whipped around, shooting her a scandalized look. Normally he would have run with a joke like that; both his parents believed his greatest attribute to the Stark name had been his sarcasm. But the idea of doing that to Loki Odinson was almost on the verge sacrilegious; especially now that he witnessed his stage performance.

Sif only smirked in return; Tony was starting to suspect she really could read him like a well-worn book. Or maybe she just knew his type; as much as there was a type of groupie, there must have been a type of star-struck fan, who worshiped the band like a lunatic. And Tony wasn't that far away from being completely crazed either.

"Give it a rest, daddy-o," she said with a hint of amusement. "Loki isn't opposed to singing on the tour bus; he does it a lot. So you'll get plenty of mini concerts to the point where you'll be sick of them."

"So you really are sick of the concerts already?" Tony raised an eyebrow.

"I never said that," Sif stared straight ahead, looking far, far away. "I've seen what Odin's Sons was when they were playing drab pubs with only a dozen people, mostly sloshed, as their audience. And I've seen them play crowds like this; but it never gets boring. Not when Loki's singing; that is something that'll never get old. Not even when he hits eighty; so long as he keeps that voice."

There was raw honesty in that statement and for a split-second Tony saw something that made his stomach flip-flop. He swore that Sif wasn't enamored with Loki as he was, in the whole idolized business; nor was she on the same level as Natasha was either. No, for that moment she almost looked like a girl hit hard by love.

Tony didn't know why that struck a chord in him but it did. Maybe it was because she was a beautiful girl who'd been infinitely too kind to him. Or maybe it was because there was a connection she shared with Loki Odinson that he never would. Not romantically per se, since he was hot-blooded heterosexual male, but a connection he'd never be able to obtain.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to look at the semi-lit stage. More people had accumulated in the theater and were drawing close to its capacity. But they were lucky that no one too tall had settled into their line of vision, and they were still able to see the stage clearly.

Even as the opening act, the same avant-garde bullshitters, took the stage; Tony felt himself consumed by a slew of disjointed emotions. In all likelihood, Sif could have been Loki's girlfriend; it wasn't as if they had discussed why she was with the band. She was just there; she didn't really work for them for all intents and purposes, so it wouldn't be that farfetched to believe she was romantically entangled with his idol.

Tony bowed his head, taking several measured breaths in order to get a hold of his composure. Whatever he was feeling was utterly childish, and he was far from childish. He had to be more of an adult while dealing with an alcoholic mother and an absentee father (who had a predilection for whiskey); not to mention that whole genius spiel, made it difficult to be that immature.

And yet those feelings persisted; so long in fact, that the opening band was already wrapping up their set and Odin's Sons' roadies were teetering on the side of the stage. Sif appeared to be oblivious to his plight; or in the very least, she was kind enough to ignore it, which he was eternally grateful for.

"The opening band is god awful," Sif raised her voice and leaned towards him. "But they were the best of the cesspool."

"Tough luck," he returned half-heartedly, deciding that focusing all his might on the cacophony of noise on the stage was a better alternative than making eye contact with Sif.

It was hard not to feel stupid with such tumultuous feelings; none of which were justifiable in the slightest. He hadn't any right to feel whatever it was he felt; he was just an outsider with a tape recorder and a notepad, ready to get the gritty details on his favorite band. That was the extent of his involvement and Tony Stark did not get emotionally compromised.

He repeated that mantra in his head, only pausing when the roadies were dashing off the stage after prepping it for the band, and once the lights lowered until it was completely dark in the room. As it had happened the previous night, an explosion of rainbow lights went off, basking the stage in a red hue before four figures made their way into their respected positions.

Tony found he was already familiar with Volstagg, Thor, and Fandral to the point that their presence didn't mystify him at all. Loki's tall and thin figure however had him instantly enchanted; he was almost bowled over by the sound that bellowed out of the man, coinciding with the red light dissipating back to a normal shade.

Loki stood like a god amongst men, singing with such force and intensity that the whole crowd could only gap in awe, before the music crashed around the room like a thunderclap and caused everyone to holler in excitement.

Tony gaped, surveying Loki from head to toe; he was all long limbs and graceful movements, swaying with the music and pulling the microphone stand up close and personal to him then pushing it away when he would hit a particularly high note. But what was even more telling were his eyes; the same eyes that had been focused on Tony the previous night, which were wide and wondrous as if he really wasn't connected to the crowd at all but a place farther away.

Time ceased to even exist then. Everything boiled down to one thing and one thing only for Tony and that was Loki Odinson. The rest of the band could stop playing, march right off the stage, and so long as Loki was singing nothing else mattered. And he vaguely suspected everyone in the room would agree with him.

Loki was the epicenter of the universe; the way, in which he swayed dangerously backwards, belting out one of the highest notes Tony had ever heard in his life, and righting himself languidly as if to show off every muscle in his body through the thin forest green oxford he wore, which was partially opened to show his clavicles and the sheen of sweat that settled against his flesh.

Every inane detail was ingrained in Tony's brain, to the point where he thought he might short-circuit. Each movement, expression, and word assaulted his better judgment; he was completely oblivious to the outside world as the songs rolled off of Loki's tongue, and when he eventually took up his acoustic guitar to accompany Thor's masterful playing.

It was so much information to consume all at once; and it was ripped away from him just as quickly as it begun to flood his brain. Someone was yanking on his arm, even though Loki was still on stage and singing breathily into the microphone, haloed by the rainbow lights again. Tony tried to pull away but Sif's voice was in his ear, vainly attempting to break the trance he was in.

"We need to get on the bus, daddy-o," she explained still pulling on his arm. "Philly wants to get a move on it early for Seattle."

"Tell Philly to fuck off," Tony almost hissed, refusing to look away from the stage.

"Either you stand here and watch the last two songs, and get stranded in San Francisco; or you can get on the bus and eye-fuck Loki up close and personal."

"I am not eye-fucking him! I'm straight!" He yelled angrily, finally turning to her and shooting her the deadliest look that he could.

The look had very little effect on her though; Sif continued to pull on his arm, until he gave into her whim. But he did so mostly to contradict her words; in no way had he been eye-fucking Loki. Someone with his reputation of chasing skirts (although his success rate had very little to do with it), would not have been eye-fucking another guy. And the insinuation pissed him off more than he could describe.

Luckily he hadn't the opportunity to vocalize it, because that would have been a first-way ticket off the tour bus and onto public transport. Sif dragged him towards the left-side of the room where one of the roadies was standing with his arms crossed. He recognized Sif immediately, grabbing onto her hand, and working his way through the crowd with ease.

They created an unbreakable human chain, making it to the railing in no time flat; the roadie hopped over it, before reaching for Sif and lifting her over it, and roughly helping Tony over when he clamored over the edge.

A middle-aged guy in a brown suede suit met them out of nowhere, motioning towards the backstage area and towards the exit, which was propped open. The smell of cigarette and pot smoke was strong; the roadies were clearly relaxing before they had to get back to work.

"No wandering around, Amelia," the middle-aged guy said sternly, before turning to Tony. "Keep an eye on her; she has a penchant for holding up the band."

"Shut up, Philly," Sif scowled, latching onto Tony's arm again. "We're going to the bus now. Just make sure Fandral doesn't try and bring any whores along for the ride."

"Omit that from your article, please," the guy grinned mirthlessly. "Now go on, Loki's solo is coming up in two minutes; the others should be heading your way soon."

They were shooed away like a pair of misbehaving children, which Sif didn't take very well; but she still led the way outside past the roadies who grunted out hellos, the first that Tony had ever heard from them. Sif returned the greetings but didn't break stride as they hit the cool evening air, and were walking down a large cement slope.

The sound of Loki's voice trailed them as they made their way to the bus; Tony felt both anger and regret for having to leave so early, but knew his top priority was to be on the same bus as Loki instead of merely in the same room.

"Don't be so pissed off, daddy-o," Sif said, looking over her shoulder at him. "I was only making a joke about the eye-fucking thing."

"It wasn't funny," Tony snapped.

"It was a little funny,"

"It was not,"

"Okay, fine. It wasn't funny at all. You're a mega-hetero, who is so masculine that you just ooze testosterone." She offered, before greeting a gray-haired guy with a bushy mustache who was leaning against the bus. "That's Gary, the bus driver."

"You're just trying to pick a fight now,"

"I am not!" She paused in the midst of opening the bus's door. "Loki is gifted, so gifted people fall in love him by sight. But when he opens his mouth, all bets are off. He's something special and people know it. You, Tony, know it."

Tony knew it, all right. Even before he'd seen Loki in person, he knew the owner of that voice was something special. He couldn't put his finger on it precisely, but it was more than just Loki's vocal range; it was beyond comprehension, which frustrated the hell out of him since he was a genius.

Sif gazed at him one last time, then pulled open the door and disappeared into the bus. Tony peered at Gary who was pretending not be paying attention, but it was so obvious it wasn't even funny, before he too got onto the bus and chose to slide into the booth across from the kitchenette.

He didn't bother to look to where Sif went, and instead waited a good fifteen minutes before the three members of Odin's Sons mounted the steps and greeted him with mixed reception. Despite having a successful show under their belt, none of them looked too pleased especially Thor.

The big guy lumbered towards the back of the bus, leaving behind Fandral and Volstagg who collapsed into the booth across from him. Fandral already had a cigarette between his lips, which he lit with a stray match, while Volstagg cradled a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels to his chest.

"Shite show, man," Fandral openly scowled. "I swear Loki is going to skewer us."

"The bloke's been in a mood since Berlin," Volstagg shook his head. "And we won't hear the end of it anytime soon."

"I thought you guys were great," Tony lied, since he hadn't necessarily noticed anyone but Loki.

"If you thought that was great, you should see us when we aren't playing like shite," Fandral returned, pointing his cigarette at Tony, and swatting the air. "We can play a fucking show."

"London last autumn, that was a show," Volstagg affirmed.

"Brussels in February, that was a fucking show," Fandral added.

"San Francisco in June, bloody fucking awful," someone said, drawing the table's attention to them. "Los Angeles was no better either; why not give the Rolling Stone further ammunition to criticize us? I believe the term lackluster comes to mind."

Tony stilled, forgetting momentarily how to breathe. Standing only several feet away from him was Loki Odinson; his oxford was untucked and completely unbuttoned, revealing a lithe and pale torso still wet with perspiration. He walked leisurely towards the table, eyeing Volstagg and Fandral with a look that a schoolmarm would envy, while disregarding Tony entirely.

"I advise you to think about drinking the night before a gig," Loki snarled, before lifting both eyebrows almost innocently. "Or you lot will be on your own."

"Seattle isn't for three days," Fandral waved his cigarette wielding hand dismissively. "And we hear you loud and clear, crowned prince of Odin. No bloody drinks the night before a show."

Loki pressed both his hands onto the tabletop, leaning in to the point where Tony could smell some sort of cologne on his skin. Hell, he could have literally reached out and touched him; although the idea was both ludicrous and highly inappropriate, especially when it looked like Loki might actually attack either Fandral or Volstagg.

"You have more than a capable vocalist in Thor," Loki sneered, only to turn his attention onto the guy wearing the brown suede suit who suddenly appeared; he'd wrapped his arm around Loki's waist and urged him to right himself again.

"The show was great," the guy said with a smile. "You guys are just too critical that's all. But trust me; the crowd was eating out of your hands. They loved you."

Loki glowered at the guy who kept smiling as if this was typical. The guy's arm remained firmly around Loki's waist, as he graced everyone at the booth with a look that while was pleasant on the outside, could have very well been a warning of sorts underneath all its layers.

"Now why don't you catch a shower; Gary managed to fix the stall. Afterwards, we'll stop somewhere for something to eat, okay?" The guy directed to Loki, who still looked vaguely murderous, but conceded nonetheless.

Before he ventured further into the bus, Loki shot Tony a look that was veiled in mystery. Tony held his breath almost terrified by it; but the fear soon passed as Loki did, who yelled something unpleasant at Thor who returned the favor in turn.

The guy in the brown suede suit only shook his head, before leaning conspiratorially against the table. Fandral rolled his eyes, taking a long drag from his cigarette; Volstagg opened the Jack Daniels bottle and sniffed it, but didn't take a drink since his focus was on the guy in the brown suede suit.

"We can't have this going on,"

"When was it our job to make sure he's happy, Phil? We're a band not back-up musicians." Fandral scoffed. "Besides the bastard's been in a fit for weeks and you just keep coddling him."

"No, Fandral, I am not coddling him. As your manager, I'm protecting your business. And let's not kid ourselves when we say Loki is an integral part of why the band is successful."

"But he isn't the only reason," Volstagg supplied, before taking a sip from the bottle.

"I think you two could make a consensus with me. It was your fault and especially Thor's why he's been like this. And in the very least, you could not be piss-drunk the night before a show. Just to appease him for the time being; in between shows, go crazy." Phil, or Philly, said before glancing towards Tony. "I imagine you'll keep this off the record, won't you?"

"Hear no evil, see no evil," Tony returned numbly.

"Great then, I'll tell Gary we're ready to go. We'll find something to eat on the way out of town." Phil nodded. "And maybe you two can think about speaking with Tony sometime tomorrow."

"Hear you loud and clear, Phil," Fandral saluted and took the bottle out of Volstagg's hand.

Phil exited the tour bus, leaving behind an uncomfortable silence in his wake. Tony was assaulted by another series of emotions, but mostly confusion. The dynamics of the band were far more complex than he originally anticipated for; and his first meeting with Loki Odinson hadn't gone according to plan.

Well, it really hadn't been a meeting at all. Loki had ignored him for the most part, except when he pinned him with an uncomfortable gaze and disappeared into the back of the bus. Tony could only hope that he could be properly introduced to him and maybe they could even have a conversation; although he figured it was for the best that he had time to collect himself, since his emotions were unbalanced and he really didn't know what he felt towards Loki now.

But something twisted painfully in his gut, when his mind wandered back to the way Loki had leaned against the table and unwittingly showcased every muscle in his abdomen while doing so. Tony buried his face in his hands, ignoring the banter between Fandral and Volstagg, and willed his anatomy to get itself under control before he nose-dived into a full-blown identity crisis.