[You're so smooth and the world's so rough] You might have something to lose...
When she wrote, Rian was a firm believe in the use of the Writing Totem...the object that not only facilitated inspiration, but warded off those who would dare to impede upon the influence of the muse. There were her stylishly geeky black-framed reading glasses which hadn't held actual lenses since the tenth grade to make her feel scholarly and
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It was probably better that way. There was too much noise in his head otherwise. He was always concerned with so many things before the band went on: the set list, getting his guitar ready, getting his mind right, checking in with his cousin and his friend to make sure they had everything they needed. On top of that, then there was everything about the fact that this was a date. His wardrobe. How he was supposed to behave. What exactly they were supposed to do, because he did not think it was fair for a woman to spend the whole date sitting there while he was the center of attention. Even if he wasn't really the center, since there were, in fact, two other members of the band.
Brendan and Tara, who were also somewhere (because they never missed an open mic night, and Tara was filling in for Haley on backup vocals, but both had promised to stay out of sight and out of mind and he sort of believed them because he was Randy), had given him the usual pre-flight date check and run him through his paces. Without them he was sure he would have been scatterbrained already. In retrospect, maybe he was combining two things he liked too much. But it was too late now.
He had settled on his usual band wardrobe: a good pair of jeans, comfortable sneakers and one of his more interesting T-shirts. But because this was also a date, he'd also thrown on a blue dress shirt, which was slightly open at the collar so he could have room to breathe. He'd done his nails. And his hair. And he could not possibly be more neurotic about this.
"Randy," someone said from behind him and he nearly jumped.
"What?" he asked, sucking in a breath as he set his guitar down and turned to look over his shoulder at Brendan.
"Your date's here, mate." His friend gave him a knowing smile. "Don't worry. I told you I'm going to be practically invisible."
"Oh, my gosh." Randy's eyes widened. "This is not the way I want to start this..." But he carefully stood from where he was, and thanked Brendan, manuevering his way back through the club until he met Rian just inside the door. He was profusely apologetic. "I am so sorry," he said honestly. "I spaced. My bad. Can I get you anything?"
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She had about a second, maybe a second and a half in the doorway before Randy appeared in a rush of apologies, making her smile. Grinning, she reached up and poked his shoulder in a light, teasing fashion.
"Yes...you can let me get a look at that shirt." she declared, giving it an appraising look before nodding. "Yep, that? Is hot. I so need to see that movie...have you seen it yet?"
She paused, then, raising a hand as her smile turned a little sheepish, and just the tiniest bit shy. "Actually...tell me that after we get out of the doorway, because I'm a gigantic nerd. Let's try this again, hmm?"
Flashing him her biggest, cheesiest smile, she waved at him mechanically. "Hello, dately person." she singsonged, then giggled and opened her arms as her smile became more natural again. "Now hug me or die." she teased.
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However, relieved that she wasn't angry with him for momentarily forgetting her, he gave her a quick hug and led her out of the doorway toward the left side of the club where the stage was. After the redesign, the formerly open-air stage had now been put indoors, presumably because it was keeping people up, and it was also hard to see anything when playing guitar outside at ten o'clock at night. Randy wasn't going to complain; he lived down the block, after all.
"I just saw it last week," he said, answering her question as he held a chair out for her so she could settle at a decent table. "It's pretty good." He adjusted the collar of the dress shirt he was wearing over it for the sixteenth time, buttoning it up a little more just for the sake of trying to be on his best appearance.
He really could not coordinate a concert and a date at the same time. A business meeting and a filing system? Yes. But not two things that so obviously were important and in different directions. This would be fun.
"I'm just, um, in the back getting everything set up," he explains. "There's an open bar and everything, or if you want to sit around and watch me tune my guitar...which I don't know who would want to watch that." A glance at his watch. "We should be on in about fifteen minutes."
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He was nervous, just like she was. Rian found some comfort in that...not just in the camaraderie of momentary social ineptitude, but in the fact that she could try to put Randy at ease instead of working herself up into her own little tizzy.
"I think I'm gonna do bar, and watching...grab a drink, hit the stage, and watch the magic happen before the magic happens." she declared before taking the seat he'd pulled out for her, reaching down to pat his hand where it still rested on the chair. She paused, scrunching her nose and smiling hopefully as she did.
"Can I be all dately and groupie-like that way? Or would that spoil your pre-show rocker mojo?"
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He smiled gently at her, gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and disappeared backstage to find the rest of his band (and ignore their heckling). It was time to start setting everything up, and Randy was still always the responsible one, helping to move everything and get it properly organized. Then, in the couple of minutes while waiting to be introduced, he needed to take some time to himself. Nothing but him, his guitar, and a bottle of water.
And some time alone with his family. He called his mother, like he always did, and talked to her for a minute. Then he took a second and said a few words to his father, slinging his guitar over his shoulder and waiting for his cue. He would not mess this up. He always thought he would, but he never did.
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"Go for it, mighty rock god." she replied warmly, reaching up to pat his hand before he released her and headed backstage. Sighing lightly and feeling loads better, Rian headed over towards the bar, leaning against it and craning her neck as she sought out a bartender.
Fortunately, one was quick in arriving. Moving over to her, a young man nodded to her cordially. "Hi, what can I get you?"
"Hey, what's up? Can I get a Perfect Screw, please?"
"Coming right up...can I get you anything else, Miss Baxter?"
Rian blinked, then smiled. "Let me guess...card-carrying something? Or did my grandfather make the news again?"
"Just a fan of your column." the bartender admitted with a small smile. "I can't wait until you do another run...you published one of my gag letters. Psychotic in Switzerland?"
Grinning, Rian dissolved into giggles. "Oh my Lord...I remember that letter! That cracked my shit up to no end!"
The two chatted briefly as he mixed her drink. Gathering her glass afterwards, she bade the bartender farewell before heading back over towards the table Randy had shown her to before. It was her best vantage point to be had, and not super far from the stage.
Just about perfect to watch the show...so she took her seat, sipped her drink, and amused herself by taking stock of the stage setup as she waited to catch sight of Randy again.
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"I think everyone knows what I'm about to say and doesn't give a damn, so I'm just going to get out of the way," the emcee (a longtime friend of Randy's at this point) commented glibly. "Ladies and gentlemen, who you've all been waiting for, BINARY!"
There was actually a sizeable amount of applause, which Randy thankfully was deaf to as he and the other two members of his band took the stage. He looked considerably more relaxed, and definitely in a different headspace. His personality as a musician was a thousand times away from who he was as an ordinary guy. He owned that stage without even trying, and he knew it.
He also knew Rob Fleming's rules for creating the proper mix tape (or set list, as it were), one of which was to start off with a kicker. They led off with one of their original songs, "Satellites", which he always preferred. Then he'd see where they would go from there.
This was when he truly came alive.
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They started in on the first song right away...and as they did, Rian had to wonder just where the hell the cute little desk clerk had gone, because the guy onstage was...well, not. Sure, he was charismatic and looked good up there, and the way he moved was more than a little bit sexy...but it was the music that knocked her on her ass.
He had a great voice, and he could play like a dream...but more importantly, he felt every chord, every note...the man was a raw musician, and where he seemed otherwise uncomfortable in his own skin, this was a perfect fit.
By the time the song was done, Rian's mouth hung agape in a shocked, delighted smile, dimly aware that her body still wanted to move with the groove that was no longer there. Shaking it off a little, she applauded fiercely, letting out a shrill hoot of approval as she did.
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After that kind of opening he always slowed it down (if only to save his voice). He looked at his bandmates and smiled a little. While they all appreciated classic rock, none of them were Styx fans to the level that he was. Still, they let him do his fair share of Styx covers and that was next on the list.
That meant he needed Tara for backing vocals, who was the only person who hadn't exactly dressed for this, but he just grinned at his best friend. Normally, this was his sister's job, but Tara would do nicely.
And then he quietly, gently launched into "Best of Times."
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As the first strains of the next song touched the air, Rian recognized it and giggled to herself, reaching out to pick up her drink and take a sip as she sat back in her seat to listen.
She was leaning forward again midway through the song, though, just because it was so easy to get into...that, and Randy definitely had it in him to make Dennis proud. When it concluded, she applauded and whooped again, hoping for the same grin...and maybe a little more Styx. Silly squishy sexy rock star, he was giving her a taste for the damn stuff.
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Then out of nowhere: "Do some Billy Ocean!"
He knew where that had come from, and turned to look at Brendan. "Shush," he said, chuckling anyway. "Not in a million years."
A pause. "But there's another song I want to do now before my bandmates start protesting the immense amount of Styx..." he quipped. "I think you all know the song. This is for my sister, Haley, who's currently, sadly, studying for a chemistry test and couldn't be here tonight. I love you, baby sister."
He had memorized "Babe" by heart, and it was easily one of his best songs.
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"Babe" went over just as well as the rest of his songs so far, and as he sang, Rian was beside herself with glee. Few things delighted her more than a live show, especially a good one. And power ballads...and a good guitar lick.
And a guy who dedicated a song to his sister, and held open doors, and fumbled and blushed and liked kids...okay, she was getting a little squishy. She should probably attend to that...but she was too busy singing along to the course of "Babe," then when it was over, pumping her fist in the air and making a goofy attempt to start a "BI-NA-RY!" chant going in the crowd.
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After that, he led the entire room through a rendition of Twisted Sister's classic "We're Not Gonna Take It," and another couple of original songs, before Brendan set out to heckle him again and he just narrowed his eyes playfully.
"Why don't you get up here and sing something?" he retorted.
He really should have known better.
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The rest of the set went on, and Rian was completely engrossed in it. The heckler reared his head again, a guy Randy obviously knew. She had to wonder just who the guy was...that guy Brendan, maybe?
Unable to resist, Rian let out a whistle and a short clap of encouragement. "Whoot! Preach it, Brother Randy!"
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Because it actually was Brendan, who looked like a million dollars and had the enthusiasm of a thirteen-year-old. Randy's doe-eyed architect buddy with the Billy Ocean fetish would try anything once. Or in this case, a couple of times. He was like one of those kids who never seemed to learn when they pulled the TV on their head.
Randy was impressed that his friend actually wanted to do it, and so acquiesced. Which was how he ended up doing an Elton John duet that was most definitely not designed as a duet.
Thankfully, Brendan had to start it:
"I can't light no more of your darkness
All my pictures seem to fade to black and white..."
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It was a little goofball and it looked like way too much fun to be legal...and seeing Randy up there, working it without hesitation or a single moment's discomfort was definitely appealing.
When the song concluded, Rian clapped with a little extra enthusiasm.
"Bravo! Bravo! Encore, encore!" she called out teasingly.
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