Aubrey (Revolving With Axis)

070:

                 

            I'd been in my mother's green rooms, and my grandfather's for that matter. My mom was considered a diva in some venues, and her requests for her green room, the room where an artist waits to go onstage, and greets people afterwards, her requests were pretty tame. My grandfather on the other hand is sometimes considered demanding. He's vegan, and an animal rights activist. There can be no animal products of any kind in his rooms. He never eats in his rooms either, because he just can't trust that things won't be made with animal fats etc. I was impressed with Rafe's green room.

            Some headlining artists when they are really big like Axis, will want separate rooms, but not these guys. They had a main room and a couple of dressing rooms with a couple of bathrooms for showers. Yes, food was brought in and the entire crew would be fed, for some of them, their first and only meal of the day. I know they got some kind of per-diem--- like five dollars a day, not much. So they all took advantage of their employer's generosity. These things were negotiated in the contracts to play in any venue. Rafe made sure there were locked doors, there were bathrooms, nicely appointed, not junkie, and showers. The catering was healthy American food, and water bottles were plentiful. There was a humidifier, an iron and ironing board, towels, AC, wifi, a tea pot and warming stand, and special tea that he drank to keep his voice limber. There was no booze right now, and I wondered at that, since it seemed like the crew sort of expected there would be. I wondered if it had to do with me.

            All the main people I'd met, the tour manager, the publicist, the stage manager, the assistants were all there. I wasn't the only non-performer. But I went to take a shower and Rafe pushed the door open behind me, and brought his stage clothes in as well.

            "Go ahead, shower. I need to warm up."

            "Are you cold?"

            "No, my voice."

            "How am I supposed to shower with you right there?"

            "Aubrey, we go on in an hour. Please, just shower."

            He faced the wall and started warming up his voice to a prerecorded thing on his MP3 player, with his ear buds in. I closed my eyes, wondering at the familiarity this guy expected, the strange combination of respect and then informality. I got into the shower fully clothed and stripped and flung my clothes out. The water was clean and warm, I washed quickly, and used the shampoo somebody before me had left, as I'd forgotten mine. Rafe tossed a towel over the opaque shower door for me, and I dried off inside the wet walls, wrapped it around me, and got out. He was stripped to his shorts, and he was not--- well--- not flaccid. What other word is there? I felt his eyes on mine as I vacated to allow him to wash.

            I know I turned red.

            I got dressed as soon as the water went on. I wore jeans--- nice jeans as compared to his holey ones. I wore multi-colored canvas slip ons, not stupid heels like the other girls I'd seen. My jeans had very little bling as well, but my top was cool, colorful, and flowy. I figured I could look concert-y. I couldn't dry my hair, and so pulled it up to a messy bun, with stragglies. Make up came next. I loaded it on this time, feeling excited at the prospect of going to an Axis concert.

            Rafe got out as I was applying mascara. He was nude, drying off, still not—flaccid--- dang it, Rafe! He dried off, not looking at me as I turned away quickly. I shoved all my stuff into my backpack and would have left the room fast, but he dropped the towel and put on his underwear right in front of the door.

            "Rafe!"

            He looked up at my very red cheeks, tucking himself into his pants. The thoughts that were going on in my brain were electric. I was pretty sure I was making a fool of myself.

            "Is that what you're wearing?"

            "I'm going to a concert, right?"

            "Um hm." He pulled his shirt on--- a thin gray long sleeved one with snaps at the neck, and he pushed up the sleeves instantly. It showed off his lower arm tattoos to perfection. Even I wanted to examine them. Then he dried and messed up his hair.

            "I'm not sure I want you out there in a see through top."

            "It's not see through." I protested turning to the mirror quickly to check. It wasn't. But it was very flowy.... And when and if I jumped, it might ride up.

            "Should I put on a camisole?"

            "Hell no." He said and then dug in his pocket and flung a five dollar bill at me.

            He stepped to me and pressed his lips to mine. "We should just stay in here and not leave."

            "I agree." I said. "How long do you have to stay after?"

            "Um..." He was kissing me still. "It takes about two hours to take down and outload. Then we hit the road again. But I have the after meet and greet and party---- appearances. God, you're beautiful."

            "You're going to be broke." I said as he dug in his pocket for another five. I'd already told him not even the name of God.

            "I'm quitting." He announced. He kept kissing me though, kissing the neck line of the flowy top. My hands were along his jawline, trying to hold him off, but he was going lower and lower.

            "Rafe."

            "You smell better than dinner."

            "Rafe!" He'd slipped his tongue someplace it wasn't supposed to be.

            He grinned at me and came up to my lips again. "You're also built to entice a man's mouth, Aubrey. I want to mark you. Leave a piece of me with you tonight." He dipped once more to the tops of my breasts and I felt the oddest sensation ever, a kind of pulling, nipping, rolling sensation I'd never felt before. He had both hands on either side of my breasts, actually holding me there, way too familiar. I tried to pull away before I realized he had actually marked me. He came away with a big huge grin.

            "There. In case anybody wants to know." I looked down at the hickey.

            "Rafe!" It was visible right at the beginning of my cleavage. I turned brighter red than ever and he snorted as he finished drying his hair again.

            "You're mine."

            "I hadn't forgot." I stated, my hand covering the reddening suck mark.

            "No, but Dylan has."

            "Dylan?"

            "He's into you."

            "He is not. He doesn't even know me."

            "He wants to."

            "Rafe!"

            "I'm not implying that you, Miss Innocent, had anything to do with it, except you're so --- so lovely---."   He'd almost added a cuss word, but I guess he recalled he didn't have any more cash on him. He packed up his bag and put it in the locker by the door, then grabbed mine out of my hands and put it there too.

            He took my hand as we reentered the main dressing rooms, where Dylan, Ben, Jeff, and Mutt were listening to Holli's instructions, and drinking something that looked suspiciously like beer. Rafe went to the tea pot and poured his tea, a special throat blend. He stood near Holli, and motioned for me to come also. Holli was not a bit pleased that I was there.

            I didn't hear what all she said as Allen opened the adjoining doors and a roomful of people crowded close to see the band. Allen took my hand. "Come on. He belongs to them now. I'll find you a great seat. You have some friends here, I gather. I'll find good seats for all of you."

            I looked back, but Allen was right, Rafe was engrossed in Holli. I felt very alone. But I recalled Brother and Sister Alpatcha out there and hurried.

*******