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“Where the fuck is he?”
Tora jogged down the hall of the stadium towards his brother's dressing room and pounded on the door.
“GOLIATH! GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OUT HERE WE’VE GOT 10 FUCKING MINUTES!”
Tora started to rub his hand through his hair before he remembered the effort the stylist had just gone through to tie his hair back so that it looked casually messy and not like he just didn’t fucking care, which was his usual look.
He rammed his fist against the door again feeling it shake on its hinges. Fuck what if he was passed out in his own fucking puke in there?
He spun to stare down the hall and felt a wave of relief pass through him to see Poppy running down the hall, looking fucking adorable in a white frilled shirt and red shorts, a maintenance guy hot on her heels, keys in hand.
“This one please,” she said, tucking her clipboard under her arm and pressing her fingers to a small earpiece she wore in her left ear. Tora heard her sweet voice speaking in his own ear. She had found a way for them to use the IEM’s they wore as radios so that she could talk to them during performances without interrupting the show, and right now they were functioning as a walkie talkie system as they all hunted the stadium for Goliath.
“Quincey, we're checking his dressing room now.”
“9 minutes Poppy,” came Quincey’s frantic voice in their ears, and Tora could practically hear him flapping his hands in panic.
Gyu’s voice followed from somewhere else in the facility, “Not outside, not in the greenroom, and Claude hasn’t seen him either.”
“FUCK!” Tora shouted, leaning forward to pound on the door again as the maintenance employee struggled to try different keys in the lock.
Finally, he found the right one and the door swung open revealing a disappointingly empty room. Tora had been worried that he was about to find his brother dead of a fucking overdose, so a small part of him relaxed while another clenched realizing that not only was his brother legitimately missing, but they needed to go on stage in a few minutes and they didn’t have a fucking drummer.
He stared down at Poppy hopelessly as she gazed down the hall at the stage door, spinning her pen between her fingers.
“We’re fucked sweetheart. There’s no time to get a replacement.”
He heard Quincey groan in his ear and speak as though his hands were pressed over his face, “Poppy honey you’ll have to let the facility manager know we’re scrubbing the show. Sooner the better.”
Poppy didn’t speak, but instead fixed her gaze on Tora, her eyes sliding down his torso.
It was a weird time for her to be eye-fucking him; normally he wouldn’t complain but right now was not the moment. She’d need to wait until they got back to the hotel.
“Pops….?” he began.
“Take off your shirt,” she said suddenly as she grabbed his arm, marching him towards the stage door.
“Wha…?” he began again, feeling totally caught off guard. They’d had sex that morning. What the fuck was she thinking?
“Your shirt, take it off.”
She reached into the bag that he had dropped on the couch next to the stage entrance, preferring to leave it with her backstage rather than in the dressing room he shared with Gyu. He saw her pull out the black button down shirt he’d packed for after the show, and held it out to him. “Put that on instead, give me the one you’re wearing. Hurry up! Trust me!”
He looked at her confused, but quickly pulled the tight graphic t-shirt over his head and handed it to her, taking the button down from her in exchange. It was a dark grey with a tiger printed on the back, and she quickly folded it and tucked it under her arm with her clipboard.
“You’re going on. Get that on and get ready. Quincey? Gyu? You’re going on. Get ready.”
“Pop’s?” came Gyu’s voice, “You found him?”
“No, but I’ve got a solution. You’re going on as normal. Normal set, except… Um… number 3, you’re doing that one first. Blow.”
“Poppy, what the fuck are ya planning? We need a fucking drummer!” Tora said, not knowing what she could possibly be thinking. Where the fuck did she think she was going to find a replacement in 6 minutes?”
“Trust me Tora. Please just trust me.” she reached up and grabbed the collar of his half buttoned shirt, pulling him down and pressing her lips to his quickly. “Trust me.”
He stared into her intense, determined eyes and nodded, ‘Tell me what you’re up to Sweetheart, what’s your plan?”
Quincey and Gyu came running down the hallway and skidded to a halt, looking between the two of them for answers.
Poppy held up her left hand, the pen still spinning in her right, silencing them all. “No time to explain. I’ve got to talk to AV. Do not go on a SECOND early, in fact stall as long as you can. Keep your ear pieces turned to radio, I’ll have AV flip them the second you start playing.”
Suddenly she turned on her heel and sprinted down the hall towards the AV booth access.
Tora stared at Quincey and Gyu and shrugged, reaching for his guitar and pulling the strap over his head.
“Fucking hell, I guess we trust her.”
“I trust that woman with my life, my entire wardrobe, and my hair, but I can’t imagine how this is not going to be a disaster.” Quincey said, staring at where Poppy had disappeared.
Gyu checked his cell phone and then moved to tuck it in the side of his bag.
“Well, Goliath fucked us, so if it bombs he’s buying dinner for the rest of the fucking tour.”
Tora checked his own phone, staring at the messages he’d sent to his little brother, none of them marked as “read”.
Shit where the fuck was he?
Three minutes left. Tora wrapped his fingers around the neck of his guitar and squeezed, breathing in and out trying to calm his heart. He was equal parts worried for for his dickhead drunk of a little brother, and furious that the asshole had let his drinking fuck up one of their shows.
Quince wrapped his arm around Tora’s shoulders as they normally did before they started a show, and Tora pushed the guitar onto his back so he could reach an arm out to Gyu. Usually Goliath was on his left, and they’d gotten used to having Poppy in the group hug as well, the whole thing felt off with just the three of them.
Tora reached for one of the waters Poppy had left on the small table by the stage door and quickly took a sip, feeling his throat relax a little bit.
“One minute” called out a stage hand and Tora heard a small sweet voice in his ear. “It’s okay guys, I’ve got you.”
He loved her, and he trusted her too, but fuck if this didn’t all still feel insane.
They set their waters down and stepped through the door into the darkness that surrounded the stage. The sound of the crowd thundered around them as they took their positions at their designated marks, still shielded by the large screens that would lift away to reveal them when the show actually began.
Something was different on the stage from when they’d done checks earlier in the day. He looked to his left to the centre of the stage where Goliath’s drums sat empty, and then the lights shifted and the set fell into darkness as white beams of lights streaked the smoke filled air and blinded him. The screens that shielded them from the crowd lit up with the Ares graphics, and the prerecorded intro of Quincey's voice rang out, opening the show and making the crowd scream.
“You guys got this.” Came Poppy’s voice in his ear, “Don’t panic when the lights are different, I spoke to AV. Tora. Song three. Blow. Before you start the main riff, play E flat three times, leave 2 bars between each one, the screens are going to raise on these cues. Your IEM will count you in, start properly at a normal tempo after the third one. Just go hard. You got this tiger.”
E flat? Main riff? How did she fucking know what the opening notes were?
He heard Quincey’s voice start to question Poppy again and then the IEM cut him off and Tora heard a small crackle as the channel switched from radio to his in-ear monitor. He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers as a small beeping sound began to count them down, giving him his tempo.
He hit the E flat hard, pausing and listening to the crowd scream as the screens began to lift in front of them.
… 2… 3… 4… 1… 2… 3… 4….
E flat, and the crowd screamed again louder. As the screens rose up the spots hit him and he peered to the side, seeing Quincey and Gyu still in silhouette but not yet lit by the stage lights.
… 2… 3… 4… 1… 2… 3… 4…
Once more, E flat, and he felt his heart thundering as he counted out the final beats before starting the riff. Two bars until the tom and the snare should kick in and Tora felt his body tense as he waited.
… 2… 3… 4… 1… 2… 3… 4…
He heard Quincey sing the first note as the spotlights hit the stage, and his whole body relaxed as the drums kicked in at the exact same moment. Poppy had fucking done it. He didn’t know what the fuck she had done but she had fucking done it. God damned amazing sexy brilliant fucking woman.
She must have somehow looped in pre-recorded drums and had the AV work a fucking miracle to black out the part of the stage where Goliath’s drums sat. The crowd would be dissapointed that they were playing a man down, but they still sounded fucking good, maybe even a tiny bit better, the drums were nice tight on the ghost notes, just like they should be. He always told Goliath he was too fucking sloppy in the intro.
He turned to see Quince looking equally relieved as he moved towards the mic.
“I’m feelin’ like a bullet
Jumpin’ out a gun
I’m feelin’ like a winner
I feel like the one…”
The lights were moving slowly across the stage in a pattern Tora wasn’t used to, but he did his best to not focus on the change. He had grown used to the cues and light patterns they’d had meticulously designed for the tour, but he felt himself settling in as Quince sang. He looked over to see Gyu staring at the drums in the shadows. Tora frowned and glanced back to see what he was looking at. The space was still dark, but he thought for a moment he saw a flash of light from movement on the high hat.
Wait, who the fuck?
The lights were moving back along the stage slowly lighting up more and more of the back section.
“You’re doin’ somethin’ to me
You’re doin’ somethin’ strange
Well, jump back talk to me woman,
You make me wanna make a baby, baby
Uh!”
The screens and pyrotechnics flashed on behind the stage and the spots shot up lighting the drum set fully making Tora's heart stop.
Poppy sat on the drum throne, her sticks in a matched grip, her hair flying as she bobbed her head to the music.
She had stripped off the top and shorts she’d been wearing and pulled on his t-shirt like a dress, knotting it at the side so that it hugged her curves and pulled tight across her breasts. She’d found lipstick and eyeliner somewhere and had smudged both on quickly, making her look wild, like she’d just had sex. Tora felt his entire body tighten as he watched her.
The crowd screamed at the reveal and Tora saw Quincey spin to stare at Poppy. He gaped at her as she played through the drum fill and Tora saw her smile and mouth something at him, making him shake his head and move back towards his mic, an equally bright smile on his own face.
Tora grinned. How the fuck had she hidden this from them? Holy fucking fuck.
Tora felt energy pulse through him and he struggled not to lose tempo, adrenaline making him want to play faster.
“ Supernatural woman, supernatural freak
Don't know what you're doin', got me feelin' weak”
Quincey pulled the mic from its stand and moved towards Poppy, singing to her, as she played.
Tora and Gyu leaned into their own mics on the harmony and Tora couldn’t resist staring straight at her as he sang.
“Oh, I wanna call you fever, baby, you can set a fire on me
Hot damn, pop it like a pistol, mama
You got me down on my knees, begging please”
He couldn’t take his eyes off her as Quincey began the course, and Poppy grinned at him, lifting her chin to get him to focus on the damn set and stop gawking at her.
“I'm comin', baby
I'm gunnin' for you, yeah
Locked, loaded, shoot my shot tonight
I'm comin', baby
I'm gunnin' for you
Pull my trigger, let me blow your mind”
The crowd was losing their fucking minds as they played, and Tora thought for a moment that his brother had maybe just lost his job if he ever showed up again. The screens shifted from band graphics to live images of each of them and the crowd screamed again as Poppy appeared on the 50 foot screen between himself and Quincey. The camera aimed at her was hand held, and whatever horny mother fucker was operating it knew exactly how to get the crowd going. It moved in close beside her, giving the crowd a shot of how she sat with her too short shirt dress riding high on her thighs, and then panned behind her to reveal the tiger across her back; his tiger.
The crowd roared and Tora noticed a camera zoomed in tighter on his own face as he played. He turned his back on Poppy not needing to be displayed as a desperate simp live in the middle of a show; he was, but he didn’t need to show it quite so openly.
“You red leather rocket, you little foxy queen
Everybody's watching, pretty little thing
Baby, tell me, what's your fantasy?
Come closer, let's talk about it
You want white lines in a limousine
Whipped cream, and everything in between, yeah.”
His solo was up and Tora moved towards the front of the stage, the spot bright on his face as he played. Poppy hit the stops on the floor tom, snare and kick, as hands reached for Tora from the crowd. He stood right at the edge for a moment before stepping back and letting himself be drawn towards Poppy.
Her eyes found his, and he dropped to his knees in front of her to play the last few riffs. Her sticks flew over the drums beating out the hectic fill with 32nd notes across the entire kit like a mother fucking boss; better than Goliath ever had.
Quince came over and hauled him to his feet, dragging him towards the central mic where Gyu was waiting and they sang the final chorus together,
“I'm comin', baby
I'm gunnin' for you, yeah
Locked, loaded, shoot my shot tonight
I'm comin', baby
I'm gunnin' for you
Pull my trigger, let me blow your mind.”
They hit the last notes and Poppy sat back, her sticks resting on her thighs and her chest heaving as she smiled at them while the crowd lost their fucking minds again.
Quincey ran around the kit and grabbed her hand, pulling her forward as he yelled into his mic.
“Boys, girls, gays and theys, let us proudly introduce our newest band member, Poppylan Wilkes!”
Poppy stumbled slightly as Quincey pulled her towards them and Tora reached out sliding an arm around her waist to steady her as she laughed up at him.
“Goliath was not able to join us, and may have to fight hard to get his sticks back. LET HER HEAR YOU ROCKPORT CITY!”
The crowd was chanting her name, and Tora couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He threw his guitar around his body and bent to kiss Poppy as the stadium exploded.
Tora smiled against her mouth, and thought that Goliath better brush up his fucking resume.
The camera that was on them panned back, as Poppy wrapped her arms around his neck, the sticks still clutched in her hands. The light flashed off, and the stadium fell into darkness as the screams slowly faded away.
**
Goliath opened his eyes, and squinted at the fluorescent light above his head. His head still ached and his heart was thumping. He could hear the heart monitor beeping in time with his own internal rhythm and Tora looked up from the chair where he sat idly flipping through his phone.
“You okay Bro?” he asked, looking concerned. He looked up at the monitor and frowned at the increased rhythm. “Bad dream?”
Goliath nodded, and his eyes shifted to where Poppy sat next to the window at a small table, earphones plugged into her ears as she scanned her laptop and made notes on a writing pad. Her pen tapped out the beat of her music as she read whatever was on her screen. He watched her spin the pen between her fingers before she went back to tapping the same rhythm on her pad.
Goliath closed his eyes and gave his head a tiny shake. He might still have a job if he could just get out of this fucking hospital. He was just thankful he’d woken up before he dreamt about his older brother fucking their tiny assistant in a stadium dressing room.
**