Getting Real

She put the laptop down and nodded, and then was in his arms, her head tucking under his chin. He said softly, “Now I’m home,” as he pulled her against him and hugged her off her feet.

They were interrupted by a runner with a message from Jake for Rand to join them on stage.

“Have dinner with me,” Rand said, holding one of Harry’s hands. He waited for her nod and sprinted towards the stage where he could see Jake, Tim and Bodge heads tipped back, checking out a piece of rigging.

“Jake, it’s just not right. I don’t like it,” said Tim. “Jonas insisted this is the way he wanted the lighting rig, but it’s not safe. I want to change it back the way we had it.”

Rand joined them and they moved to the side of the stage and unrolled a set of plans with the rigging changes Jonas had specified marked on them. Rie, Ceedee and Jeremy were in a huddle on the stage front, directly below the piece of rigging under discussion.

Tim said, “See this bracket is holding too much—” and he was cut off by the screeching sound of a metal tearing, followed by the sudden shattering of glass and the thump and clang of scaffolding pieces pounding down onto the stage.

Jeremy grabbed a screaming Ceedee and dragged her out of the way, but Rie was farther from him and too far from Rand for him to do anything but gawp at her. She crouched down, wrapping her arms over her head as metal and glass rained down around her.

Bodge was closest and first to react, moving while the scaffolding and rigging were still self-destructing. He ran into the hail of flying debris, and scooped up Rie, carrying her to safety bundled in his arms, while pieces of wreckage bounced off his back, head and shoulders. Rie looked like a kid in the big man’s arms, curled against his chest. In some ways she still was a kid, stuck in the horror of what happened and why they’d never come home before now. Rand went to her. This was all she needed on top of the crap with Jonas, to convince her the tour was jinxed.

Tim and Jake had reacted as well, and the three of them converg

ed at the edge of the whirlpool of destruction.

Bodge said, “Take her,” and thrust Rie into Jake’s arms. He had blood streaming from a cut on his head, he swore and took off again to see Jeremy and Ceedee bellowing for the first aid kit. Rand wiped a hand over his face. Jonas. He wanted to reach back to LA and ring the dude’s neck til drugs didn’t help his pain. Jake had Rie. He went after Bodge to see what needed to be done to fix this.

Jake cradled Rielle. He looked her over. “Are you hurt?” There was blood, but he wasn’t sure if it was hers or Bodge’s.

“What the hell happened?” She breathed in, lifting her head to look up at him with wide violet eyes.

Jake exchanged a quick look with Tim. “Jonas wanted a rigging change, but we weren’t happy with it. We just didn’t figure it out quick enough.”

“Jonas did this?”

“Technically I did it,” said Tim, “but yeah, Jonas ordered it.”

The colour was back in Rielle’s cheeks. She let go of Jake’s neck and he lowered her feet to the floor. “Bastard!” she said, balling her fists.

Roley, How and Stu arrived on stage in time to hear Rielle’s exclamation, shock written on their faces. Stu immediately made his way to Ceedee, catching her in a hug and slapping Jeremy on the back. Rand stepped over shattered glass and walked through the tangle of metal, looking up at the place where it had all been suspended moments ago.

“I’ve never seen anything like that in my life,” thundered Bodge, now holding a piece of cloth to his forehead. He rounded on Tim. “You should’ve seen that. You should never have let that happen.”

“Bodge, we missed it by minutes,” said Jake. Now he’d shaken the faith of his own crew. And minutes might as well have been miles given the damage done. “It’s my fault. I should’ve thought to check any of Jonas’s last minute instructions. I will now.”

“TLTL,” growled Bodge and Jake knew it was.

“Jake,” called Rand. He came over to drape his arm around Rielle’s shoulders. “Look at everything Jonas has put his fingers on. Everything.” He turned to Rielle, touched her neck. “You’re bleeding.”

“Let me take care of it,” said Jake. It was the least he could do. He took the first aid kit from Lizard’s outstretched hand. Just brilliant. First day on the job as stage manager, half the set collapses, my lead singer is hurt and my crew think I’m incompetent. His one overriding thought was to get Rielle backstage so when she carved him up, it was at least in private.

Rielle took the wad of gauze Jake offered and pressed it to her neck. She followed him backstage without protest. She was fine. She didn’t want a fuss made over it. Going backstage with Jake was better than having half the crew staring at her, wondering if she was going to crack, better than having Rand not look at her for the same reason. In the dressing room, Jake pulled out a chair for her and knelt in front of it.

“TLTL?” she asked.

“Too little, too late,” he said with a grimace. “Bodge is right. I should’ve checked everything.”

“Goddamn right you should have.” She dabbed at her neck and looked down at him. His lips were clamped shut, the expression in his eyes grim.

“Sharon will have a list of possible replacement stage managers for you later this afternoon.”

“So you’re just going to give up? Walk away from it?”

He narrowed his eyes, poured fresh water on another cloth to clean her wound. “I’m giving you the option like you wanted.”