Three: You Never Know
My search for Roger yielded nothing. The door to the back room was locked, and no matter how loud I knocked on it, he always seemed to turn the music he was blasting back there up a notch louder. I sighed, deciding to nap on the rest of our journey to Providence.
As soon as we got there, Sal made it clear to me that Roger didn't want me at the show that night. I suppose they had some sort of conversation that I was out of earshot of, and Roger had made me out to be the bad guy. Fine. I told Sal that I had enough shots of the band anyway, from the New York and Boston shows, and as long as I could get a full reel of the final New Jersey show that all I'd need were single shots and interviews with the band. He assured me that he'd make Roger allow me to go to that one, and I nodded, picking up my camera and marching out onto the Providence streets.
Good old Providence. I had spent three years in this city when I went to Brown, and I knew it like the back of my hand. Of course some new places had sprung up, but I still knew what streets led where and what places were safe.
I ate dinner at some place called "Fire and Ice". It wasn't half bad and they actually cook the food right in front of you. It took a good chunk out of my wallet, though. I sighed, chalking it up as a gift to myself after that horrid display a few days ago, which, by the way, was still making me miserable.
I walked around for awhile, window shopping, getting shots of the rather eccentric people that roamed the streets, filming a few cars, and I actually got a really good shot of a minor accident, as morbid as it sounds. No one was hurt, but hey, it works well for slow-motion.
By the time I wandered back to the bus it was midnight, and the show was bound to be over. As soon as I reached the parking lot where the bus had made claim, I could hear the clamor. They had just done a show, of course they were riled up and excited. Well, maybe more than excited. I climbed into the bus to see probably one of the most scary scenes of my adult life.
Not only were the band members occupying the huge bus, but at least half a dozen groupies were there too. Hanging on Luke, moving in on Sal...and practically consuming Roger through phagocytosis. Poor Noah sat in the little kitchenette, playing solitaire while the rest of the band played around with the television and stereo in the back room.
"Good night?" I asked, sitting down beside him.
"We sold out..." He said in his shy, young voice, a little grin escaping. "500 seats."
"Wow...pretty cool..." I said, not really as excited as I wanted to be for them. Noah looked up at me, his brown eyes gleaming with caution.
"Wanna do me a favor?" He asked, leaning forward.
"I guess..." I raised my eyebrow, wary of what he might ask me to do.
"Wanna go supervise their little party? I would do it myself, but frankly, it creeps the hell out of me."
Right, because I'm exposed to sex and alcohol everyday.
Nonetheless I found myself striding to the back room and opening the door. I swear, I could smell the testosterone, and it made me woozy...or maybe the alcohol was in the air.
"MARK!" cried Luke's voice and a cheer went through the little crowd. I closed the door behind me.
"Are you guys breaking stuff?" I asked, trying to make light of the situation. Luke let out a drunken laugh. God, sometimes I really, really can't stand alcohol.
"Nah, just hanging out...Mark, you should meet Sarah, she's really cool." he motioned to a brunette sitting beside Roger. I shook my head in decline.
"Thanks but no thanks..." I said, backing away and into a chair. "I'm just here to make sure none of you die, or operate heavy machinery." Another roar of laughter.
The small party raged on, and I sat back and observed, finally deciding to get my camera and tape some of these odd happenings. Before I knew it, Roger was approaching me and insisting I shut it off.
"Cut it out, Mark, we're just having a good time..." He grinned stupidly. I knew Roger was usually a happy drunk, but when you got him mad...
I clicked off the camera and sat back down.
"Mark, I have to tell you something..." He slurred, sitting beside me as Sal wandered off, a girl on each arm. I didn't want to know what he had planned. I turned to Roger.
"What is it..." I asked, expecting another upbraiding for my antics the other day.
"You..." He began, pausing for a moment. "...are my best friend. Ever..."
"Roger..." I protested, not in the mood for a heart to heart.
"No, no no..." He insisted, swatting at the bothersome tugs on the arm by a pretty blonde. "You're my best friend, and I was a straight up punk to you the other day...I was a jerk."
Wait a minute. Was Roger apologizing? It may have been a drunk apology but drunk was better than nothing. I let him continue.
"I was just flat out mean. And I really shouldn't have hit you. You don't bruise well." He laughed for a moment and then continued. "And I just want to say, that...I've had a few drinks now, and I see the error of my ways." Why was Roger more articulate when intoxicated? Everything was always backwards with him. "I'm sorry, Mark. I was a jerk."
"Yes, I believe we established that." I teased. "Roger, you're crocked, why don't you go to bed and we'll talk about this in the morning."
"I am NOT crocked."
"Roger...you're sloshed out of your tree...I've seen you like this many a time, and I think I can tell. I'm your best friend, remember?" I teased more. This was just too easy.
"Oh...well...a nap does sound nice." He conceded, standing up and letting me guide him to his bunk. "Just make sure everyone gets home, or...out of here at least..." He climbed in awkwardly and I did all I could to keep from laughing. I pulled his blankets over him and he snuggled in like a 5-year old.
"Goodnight, Roger." I said, sighing.
"I don't get a good night kiss?" He teased, making kissy faces at me.
"You're lucky I don't give you a good night smack." I threatened. "Now...go to sleep so you can sober up by tomorrow night."
"Goodnight Maaaaark..." He giggled, letting my name drawl like some sort of twisted chant.
I prayed he'd remember our reconciliation in the morning.