All I could do was hope that it was one of those quirky musician things. I went back to my friends, leading them to our special chairs beside the monitor tech’s mixing board.
Brynn, predictably, freaked out that we got to be so close to the band, and see the backstage area of such a historic venue.
By the time the opening band was through and Cat Badness took the stage, I was wired on adrenaline. Ethan’s music was great, and the crowd was primed.
The best thing that could possibly happen tonight would be for one of the record execs to call me after their set to arrange a meeting. But I’d settle for a great show, and deal with things in the morning.
14
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Ethan
I’d played some pretty big shows when I was a solo act, but everything seemed much easier with my band behind me.
At first, it seemed like Corina had been expecting a band name like “Ethan Cooper and The Other Guys in the Van,” or something to imply that I was the band leader.
I didn’t want that. Sure, I was the frontman, and the singer-songwriter, but each member brought a lot of punch to both the recordings and the live show. Once we were touring more regularly, we’d become even more of a team.
I’d heard of groups taking months to figure out their names, but with us, it quickly came down to two. Raspberry Diesel Fuel was a mash of so many in-jokes that nobody else would ever understand it. Yet even if people didn’t understand our pet frustrations, Cat Badness was punchy.
Now it was time to announce our new identity to the world.
Todd drained the last few drops of his energy drink, flinging the can in a high arc straight into the trash can. “One million points,” he announced triumphantly, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“We all good?” Skippy asked. “Packed house, new name, new last minute song. All of the elements we need, right?”
“Absolutely,” I said, straightening up.
Rob wound his arm back as if to punch me, then gave me a feather-light tap on the bicep. “Remember, the execs don’t matter. The media doesn’t matter. Only the fans.”
Skippy looked over his shoulder to make sure his mother had already gone out front before adding, “Especially the cute ones.”
We laughed as we walked down the hall and up into the side stage area. The opening band had cleared out, and our roadie had already switched out our gear.
Looking out into the hall, hundreds of faces were ready for us. The row of young ladies who were pressed to the front of the stage were definitely ready for us.
Glancing to the other side of the stage, Corina was sitting between her friends. Her timid smile was the only thing that made me a bit nervous. She couldn’t possibly think I was really looking at all those other girls, could she?
Looking around at my three bandmates, I grinned, starting the only stupid pre-show ritual we had.
“Three,” I announced in a deep, movie trailer narrator voice.
“Two,” Rob joined me.
“One,” Todd chuckled.
“Rock time!” Skippy squealed, racing to the drum kit as we followed him into the lights.
Strapping on my guitar, I quickly checked the tuning, then adjusted the microphone. “Hey folks,” I began. “Thanks so much for coming out to see our band tonight.”
“I thought people were here to see Ethan Cooper?” Rob asked.
“Nah, I think they’re here to see me,” Skippy said, standing up and flexing his arms to show off his tattoos while the girls in front shrieked in appreciation.
“They’re here to find out the new band name,” Todd said in his most serious tone.
“Indie rock aficionados,” I said, switching back to my dramatic, booming voice. “Welcome to the first show under our new band name...Cat Badness!”