Too Many Rock Stars: Violet's Story (Access All Areas 1)

Mark glanced around the table. He nodded his head but without commitment. He'd be gone the first chance he got.

"We need to save this place," I added.

"True," Carlie said, standing up, "so does that mean you'll agree to date one of those horny dudes fighting over you?"

I didn't reply. When I'd said I'd do anything, I hadn't meant that. I'd meant work hard and make this place more profitable. I hadn't meant becoming a stupid prize.

Carlie started setting up behind the bar. The rest of us followed her lead.

I had to go upstairs to check out the night's lineup. It was best to put some distance between myself and Carlie's pushy face for a while anyway. I had to grip the rail tight to take the weight off my ankle, and it took me a while but it beat the hell out of hopping.

The opening band set up. They were nice kids, not screwed up by this rock life yet. All fresh-faced and innocent. Nervous as hell about playing their first real gig.

The lead singer looked like she was still in high school. She wasn't. I was ultra-careful about checking stuff like that. You could get into a world of trouble with kids on licensed premises and all that. She was all pale-faced though, with blonde pigtails and glittery eyes.

The guitarist was her brother. You could tell that just by looking at them.

Kirin. That was their band name.

"You guys organized?" I called out. "The doors open soon."

"Sure." The girl smiled nervously. "I think so."

I nodded and sat at the door. I wanted to keep an eye on these guys. Despite the innocence and the nerves, they had something. Normally, I worked the door for these weeknight gigs. It saved paying someone else to do it and I got to check out the new bands to see if they were worth rebooking. On weekends, when the crowds came in, one of the other staff did it.

Like Chuck had said, the room was barely half full. He had to understand though, people just didn't go out to see bands on weeknights. Not unless they were diehard fans – and what band starting out has those? Otherwise, it was friends and family. Or the few faithful that were here almost every night no matter who played.

There was a method to this, a way things worked. You put a new band on as openers early in the week to give them a go. If that worked out, then they moved their way up to weeknight headliners. Weekends, of course, we had on the bands that could pull in a good crowd or bands that were touring from out of town.

You can't have the bigger bands play every night of the week. They'd wear out their welcome. I needed to spell that out to Chuck even though he should know it by now.

The punters, they want variety. They might say they will turn up to see their favorite bands play week after week but no one actually does that. You needed scarcity and a bit of buzz, otherwise people just figure they can stay home and do their laundry this week because there is always next week if they miss out.

One idea did strike me while I watched the band play. If we put more bands on for the weeknight gigs and gave each of them shorter slots, we'd get more punters in. You'd have to be the biggest loser band to not get at least twenty friends and family through the door for your first gig. By shoehorning in another slot, we'd have a lot more drinkers in the club. That wouldn't go far but it'd be a start.

While I watched the band, someone came over to sit beside me. Instinctively, I grabbed the cash box. You couldn't be too careful in a place like this.

Alex. God, could I do nothing without one of those men shadowing me? Between him and Razer, I was rarely alone. Still, when he gave me a half-grin and a sideways glance, I didn't discourage him from sitting down.

He raised his glass to me.

"They're not bad," he said, looking at the stage. "That tiny chick is a spitfire on stage."

She did have something. You'd think there was a crowd of thousands in the room. That's always a good sign. Start strong or you never get there. I'd definitely be booking them again.

"Want me to get you a drink?" Alex asked.

I was going to say no out of habit but that bar was a long way away and I had no desire to hobble make my way over there.

I nodded. Having him there beside me gave my brain a break from stressing about the club and all the problems. I'd let him distract me for a while.

He came back with the beers and sat down beside me again, sprawling in the chair as though he owned all the space. His leg was actually a bit too close to mine and I shuffled my chair back.

"What's going on with you and that meathead?" he asked.

"Razer? Nothing." Then wondered if that was the wrong thing to say. I mean, just because I had nothing with Razer didn't mean I wanted a thing with anyone. Guys never seem to get that, though.

"What the hell kind of name is that anyway? Razer? I bet it’s really Richard or something. Dick. That'd suit him. Only good things he’s done is loan me his drummer. He’s going to fill until this competition is done."