fans lined up by the boardwalk entrance all the way down the beach past Julian’s line of sight. The sunny day had been marred by low clouds rolling in overhead, but Pat thought that everything would be fine for the show. Daniel sat back by his amp, tuning his bass for what seemed like the hundredth time.
“Where’s Asher?” Alex asked. “We were all supposed to be here by three.”
“I just texted him,” Daniel said. He looked worried. “No response.”
Julian looked around, scanning the back of the stage. There was no sign of Asher or of Shannon. Coincidence? Maybe. But he doubted it. A surge of anger welled up into his throat as he thought about the two of them.
“The doors open in ten minutes,” Daniel said.
Julian saw Pat running towards the stage. He walked down the stairs.
“Where’s Asher?”
“Yeah, we can’t play without a drummer.”
“He just called me, said he was running late.” Pat told them. “But don’t worry, he’ll be here. Even if we have to start a bit late.”
Julian seethed. First Asher fucked up his relationship, and now his band.
“The doors open soon,” Pat said. “Just be ready to go as soon as possible.” He seemed like he had other things on his mind. Probably dealing with the controversy around Alex being gay.
Walking down to the back of the stage, Alex and Daniel began to talk animatedly, but Julian turned away and went to help the road crew set up the lights. He didn’t want to hear anything about Asher. Not right now. Possibly never.
The crowd spilled through the doors onto the sand, the overhead spotlights illuminating them as they surged forward to the stage. Julian climbed up one of the back ladders and adjusted an off-kilter red spotlight. From this height he could barely see the ocean, the waves at high tide crashing against the shore. The lights from the stage and the audience lit the entire beach dimly, and the whitewash of the waves roiled. It was a choppy sea, definitely unlike the calm waves that he had seen that morning. The wind picked up and fluttered the overhang on the stage.
Julian climbed down and went to find Pat. He had his phone to his ear, and was nodding heartily as though the other person could see him.
“Can we still play if it rains?” he asked, interrupting.
“Sorry, one second.” Pat pressed the phone down to his shoulder. “It’s San Diego. It’s not going to rain.” He went back to his call.
“Yeah, but if it does,” Julian insisted. “It looks rough out there.” He pointed over towards the ocean.
“Christ, Julian!” Pat put the phone down again. “We’ll be fine, okay? Okay?”
“Sure,” Julian said, frowning. “Okay.”
Pat turned away, and as he left Julian saw Asher come through the back entrance to the back of the stage, as casually as if he didn’t have a show to play in five minutes. Shannon came in with him. They were both laughing.
He couldn’t help it. One second he was standing calmly with his guitar in one hand, and the next second he was shoving Asher as hard as he could. The drummer stumbled backwards, his hands raised in defense.
“What the FUCK?” Julian yelled. “You fucking asshole!”
“Easy, easy,” Asher said. “Calm down.”
“I’m not going to fucking calm down!” The crew gathered to watch, and Julian could hear the crowd at the front of the stage buzzing with noise. A black hatred rose up inside of him, and he strode forward, shoving Asher again hard. This time Asher tripped over a cable and landed hard on the ground.
“Chill, man!”
“What are you doing?” Shannon yelled
“Stand up and fight, you sorry piece of shit!” Julian reached forward and pulled Asher up bodily from the floor, smashing an open palm across his face. With so much adrenaline running through his veins, Julian couldn’t even feel the weight. Alex was trying to push through the back of the crew to get to them. Asher’s hand came up to his nose. Blood ran down one nostril over his