Right Here Waiting-Book 2 Of The Mad Mad World Series

Part 3

The next thing I knew, Paul was gently shaking me, calling my name softly verbally and psychically. I blinked, confused, not knowing where I was; Paul smiled down at me and said, "Wake up sleepyhead, we're here."

"Where's here?" I mumbled, burying myself back into my blanket. Paul sighed and tugged it away, saying "The next tour stop, kiddo. Come on, you can sack out in the green room while we run through sound check. You must have been tired, Richard came to wake you up twice and you kept on sleeping. Plus you bit his fingers when he tried to poke you in the shoulder to get you to wake up."

"So you got elected to wake me up? You poor thing," I muttered, prying my eyes open and forcing my reluctant body into a sitting position. Paul only laughed and handed me a bottle of Coke, saying, "I bring presents. Please don't bite my fingers off, I need them."

"You've just saved your fingers," I said, returning Paul's infectious grin. After drinking half the bottle in one go, I felt awake enough to brave the rest of the world. I put my hair into a tail as I finished the soda and retrieved my sneakers from under my bunk, then with a deep sigh and a quick prayer to Whoever or Whatever took care of children and rock stars, went out to face the world.

By the time sound check was over, I was ready to lie down in front of the tour bus and let it roll over me. Everything that could go wrong went wrong, from amplifiers blowing out, to Richard's roadie forgetting which guitar he used for "Ich Will," to Schneider's snare drum head blowing out in the middle of "Links 2-3-4." The worst of it was one of the fire-waterfall effects, it wouldn't go off no matter what the pyro crew and Till did. To top all that joy and happiness off, Flake was developing a whopper of a head cold. Everyone was miserable, snappish and short with one another and I didn't blame any of them a bit. Instead, I kept off to the side of the stage, keeping an eye on everyone in the arena, trying to visualize a 'blanket' of calm over the place. I was doing the best I could do when Till snapped at Paul, who wasn't quick enough to move out of the way as he stomped across the stage. The harsh syllables of Till's cursing so loud he could be heard over Schneider's drumming broke my concentration; I peered around a girder to see Paul toe to toe with the irritated singer, both of them growing at each other, the air simmering with the impending fight. Any other time it would have been funny, seeing Paul glaring up at Till like a Corgi trying to take on a Great Dane.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I heard Schneider curse as he tumbled out from behind his drum kit, hitting the stage floor behind Paul in one mighty leap. Flake had come down from his keyboards the second the argument began and was behind Till, arms folded and waiting for the explosion. Ollie and Richard stood to the side, both of them looking shocked and unsure what to do, the argument had come on so quickly.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way," Till hissed, looming over Paul like a thunderhead. "You do that during a show and we'll both get torched. You know better, Paul."

"Fuck you sideways, Lindemann," Paul snapped back, guitar slung over his back and fists clenched so hard his knuckles were turning white. "I didn't mean it. And I know better. Don't take your anger out on us just because the pyro doesn't work. Let the pyro crew work on it; it'll be ready to go by show time."

Till said nothing for a very, very long and tense time. I shot a look at Ollie, who shook his head minutely as if to tell me to stay out of it. Every inch of my being wanted to reach down the link and settle their tempers, but I stopped myself. Influencing people's emotions was tempting, which would start me down a path I had no intention of going down. I bit my lip and resumed hiding, hoping that something, even a physical fight, would happen before the tension in the room grew too high.

Finally, I heard Till blow out an exasperated breath and say, "I'm sorry Paul. You're right, I shouldn't take being upset out on you."

"That's okay. Let's call it a day, huh, folks? I'm getting hungry and we need to clear the stage anyway," Paul replied. I stayed hidden until I knew the coast was clear and sneaked into a nearby unused room to give the band some time without anyone from the outside bothering them.