The Beat of His Drum

“Caesar’s Flame will be performing here on New Year’s Day!”

I froze, completely losing count of the number of guitar cables we had in stock. No. Fucking. Way.I gaped at my business partner, Evan Harper, who’d just rushed into the stockroom where I was doing inventory. It couldn’t be, not after so many years.

“Are you shittin’ me?”

“I know, right?” He continued to babble, completely unaware of my inner turmoil. “I couldn’t believe it myself, but I was trying to decide what to do about music and bookings that weekend, then lo and behold, they drop into my lap—figuratively, of course! They’re back in town and wanted to do their last gig at our place, before taking a long break. You know, a ‘local boys made good’ kinda thing.”

“I see.” I cleared my throat, trying to buy some time and regain my equilibrium.

As much as I was pleased to have such a big name group performing in The Music Room—the venue that was attached to our store and set up for musical acts—Evan couldn’t have known how the path to fame for the act he’d just booked had impacted my erstwhile relationship with its drummer and band leader, Laramie Treble.

We’d met while the band was still doing the club circuit. Laramie had needed a new bass drum kick pedal, and he’d stopped by my store—Best Bargain Music—the business I’d just opened with Evan. The attraction had been instant on my part, and he wasn’t picky about who he slept with, which worked in my favor. We fucked around for a few years—the tall, sexy, dark-haired drummer, and me, the skinny, average-looking, and unpresuming music store co-owner.

I’d never expected him to notice me, someone so ordinary in every way, with no pretentions to anything except a well-run business. But he’d seemed to be okay with that. We never made anything official, but in my mind, this was it for me. I was blown away and head over heels. Laramie was the one, and I thought he must have felt the same way, too. Why else would he hang around with me all the time, yeah? I’d been so na?ve.

Then the band was discovered, and fame changed the nature of our relationship, such as it was. Laramie’s already sizeable ego grew bigger, and he developed a wandering eye. Soon, it was apparent that he’d been merely biding his time with me, the music geek, until something better came along. I’d been easy pickings and available, ready to drop into the hand of the first guy to notice me.

I wasn’t enough anymore for the ‘bad boy of alternative rock,’ as he was dubbed by everyone. He had to fuck everything that moved, since it was being handed to him on a platter anyway. When I would complain, his response was, “So what? It’s not like we’re marriedor anything.” And there it was. We weren’tmarried, we weren’tin a committed relationship, and I was a fool.

So, finally getting a clue, I broke it off and left him to all the better-looking and easy-to-get male and female wannabes that wandered in and out of his bedroom, searching for their ten-minute fuck with an up and coming rock star. I certainly didn’t need that kind of pain, and I was monogamous at heart. He was…not. I swallowed the bitter pill and moved on. Or so I’d thought.

Evan’s voice brought me back to the present. “You know how huge a draw they are, Dorian. Fuckin’ famous! And theycalled us. No waywas I turning that down.”

Did I mention that he was a total fanboy? And he had a huge crush on the lead singer, Chuck Whistler.

Something struck me as curious, though. “Wait. They called us?”

“Weren’t you listening? Yes! Laramie Treble himself asked for the gig. Oh, God, this is going to be awesome! I’ve got so much to do.” He gave me a quick hug and then left the room, practically floating on air.

It didn’t mean anything. Laramie was way out of my league and no longer a part of my life. Hell, I’d never even beenin his league. He’d been slumming it, and I’d been convenient. It was simply a coincidence that Caesar’s Flame was back in town and chose our place out of a myriad of others to perform. It had to be.

I decided not to waste my brainpower on something that had been over and done with years ago, no matter how my heart raced at the thought of seeing Laramie again. I finished the inventory, exited the stockroom, and walked by the sheet music display to the front of the store. I re-checked that the front door was locked, since it was after hours, and then wandered over to the cash register and sat on the stool behind the counter. I closed out the till and secured the money in the safe underneath.