“You met him in the gym already?” queried Rand. “Shit, does he know?”
“No, it’s fine. He doesn’t have a clue.”
“He doesn’t have a breath left in his body either. Must be asthma, poor guy.” Rand turned to eyeball her. “Be nice.”
She grinned. “Raised by wolves, remember.”
Rand groaned but not quite as audibly as Jake did when he stepped up beside them and slumped into a seat next to Rielle.
“Are you a smoker, Jake?” she said. “They’ll kill you, you know.”
Jake gave a feeble smile and shook his head. He had his eyes down on his feet, as though looking up was a death defying act. He was finding it hard to draw breath.
He coughed a couple of times and Rielle laughed. “Is that a piece of lung there, Jake?”
He mumbled, “Sorry, I’m scared of heights. I know it’s ridiculous. I know I’m ridiculous. I can’t stop it.”
“Shit man, why did you come up here?” Rand reached across Rielle and clapped Jake on the shoulder.
“‘Cause I’m incredibly stupid,” Jake said in a strangled voice, and then he started to laugh. He was a sweating, shaking mess, but he was laughing. When Rand chuckled too, Jake gave a weak grin.
Rielle looked out at the stage below and folded her arms. “Yeah, goddamn Godzilla.” They had a tour manager who couldn’t walk up a flight of stairs without cracking up. They were fucked.
Jake laughed harder. “I thought coming up here was a good idea. I forgot how bad it can be.”
“I thought you were going to cark it on us,” said Rand.
“Cark it!” Jake made a snorting sound, half gasp for breath, half laugh. Rielle was glad they were so amused. Not.
“Yeah, cark it,” repeated Rand, laughing too. “I thought you might keel over and die. I was getting ready to do mouth to mouth on you.”
That made Jake look up briefly. “I’m really sorry,” he spluttered. “I might have to stay up here now.” He wiped water from his eyes. “Maybe have bedding sent up. I’d be able to see everything from here if I wasn’t too scared to look up or out, anywhere but at my feet.” He groaned, hands on his stomach. “My mum would visit.”
Rand reached around and put a hand on Jake’s back. “We could have catering set up a food station here. Some of the crew could do with the extra exercise.”
Now Rielle saw the humour. “That might give Bodge a heart attack.”
“Bodge is a good man,” Jake choked out between breaths, making her smile, but this time with wonder at the depth of Jake’s vulnerability and his weird ability to laugh in its face.
“Does the crew know about this?” asked Rand.
“Oh, they know.” Jake grimaced. “I worked with Bodge and Glen when I was starting out. I was a sparky, but I used to melt down when I had to climb a scaffold, so yeah, they know. They don’t let me forget it either. We stay up here any longer they might call an ambulance.” His comment triggered a new wave of choking laughter—this time, in all three of them.
Amidst the laughter, Rielle’s curiosity got the better of her. Whatever Jake felt, it was real to him. You only had to see his shaking hands, how his shirt stuck to his skin, to know he was genuinely frightened of a back row, orange coloured plastic stadium seat. “What does it feel like?”
His eyes flickered her way. “Like I’m going to fall and die, but worse—like anyone with me is going to die too. It’s stupid I know, but right now I’m worried all of us are going to fall and die.”
She leaned forward to look at his face. “But you’re laughing?”
“Well, it is pretty funny.” His eyes shifted towards her again, and he was gripping the edge of the seat, the muscles in his arms rigid. “If I’m coping okay I have both feelings together. I feel like I’m going to die, but I also know how rock dumb that is. Unfortunately knowing it’s dumb doesn’t stop me feeling like I’m knocking on hell’s door.”
If this hot, wet mess was Jake coping, what was he like when he was truly freaked out?
He was a frigging idiot for coming up here, for showing such weakness. Even though there was something oddly poetic, even heroic about it. He was facing up to his greatest fear and losing. Big time. Once Rielle would’ve seen it as admirable, finding inspiration in it for lyrics, maybe a new song, but not now. Now all it made her feel was tired.
Jake was desperately trying to compose himself. He was all right. He wasn’t going to die. He was speaking in full sentences and even if his laughter was verging on hysteria, at least it was laughter. He might’ve been catatonic. It’d happened before. There was worse than this, way worse; it wasn’t a plane or a twenty foot ladder where he was more exposed. Still, he was trying to envisage himself being able to let go of the bottom of the seat and walk back down the stairs when his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen. Glen. “Yeah.”