8 Chapter 8

Finally Mike sighs, turns away. “We practiced ‘Stairway.’ We do that one, Adam. That was the plan, remember?” He waits for an answer.

It’s long in coming. Finally Adam sighs. “Yeah.” He’s tired of arguing. Hell, right now he’s tired of being here, and he isn’t looking forward to performing tonight, even if this is the Lot.

“We decided on ‘Stairway,’” Mike says, as if to drive the point home.

“All right already,” Adam tells him. When Mike opens his mouth to speak again, Adam turns away. “You want to do a ballad? Fine, we’ll do a goddamn ballad. Just shut the fuck up about it, will you? I have to get in the zone.”

He turns away, retreating to the wings of the stage where he can stare out at the crowd and let the heavy riffs from the other band wash over him. They go on in less than a minute. It’s too late to change their set anyway, he tells himself. Everyone else is doing covers tonight. With a bitter laugh, he thinks, Why shouldn’t we?