For the Band (a story)
Geoff was the roadie for a really cool band, that made him proud to belong to, when they were on stage. Or when they were giving interviews. Their name looked good on his resume and his friends had lots of questions for him when he was home. He was often asked for autographed pictures of them.
But he didn’t talk much about the band. He got kind of snarly when prodded.
His friends thought that was weird, cuzz the band seemed like such cool people. They had such charm when they gave interviews and their stories seemed so cool between sets. Their jokes were just the right tone between raunch and propriety. Just a bit on the off colour side of life.
Even people who didn’t like their music thought they seemed like good people to hang out with. Their parties were legendary.
And it was more than Geoff could take. He was looking for a new job. One where he didn’t feel so smarmy.
The odd thing was, there was no gossip out about the band. He figured their lawyer was really good at hushing things up, or the people they mistreated were so hurt they didn’t dare speak up. He wondered if it would make any difference if he offered to support any claims they made. But Geoff had signed a waiver and he knew he’d never work in the industry again if he spoke up.
Finally, he found a new band he wanted to work with and pulled the band leader aside to give his notice. He saw a really strange look in the leader’s eyes. And got a bit worried. Geoff made it clear that he just wanted a new challenge and nothing he knew would ever come out. He swore it up and down. And the leader’s eyes got weirder, not calmer.
So Geoff left. His attempts at reassurance didn’t seem to be working. So he stopped talking.
Geoff went to the liquor store and got some takeout and went back to the hotel he was staying in. He booked his flight home and sat down to watch a movie, while he ate and had a few drinks.
And he fell asleep….
Or did he?
He became aware again when he opened his eyes and looked around him. He saw a rocky cave and lights of many fires in the warren. He saw skulls and bones around as well. He tried hard to wake himself up, but couldn’t seem to. He was stuck in the cave. Screaming for help. Till he couldn’t scream anymore.
The band leader reported Geoff missing the next day. He must have felt he had to. For appearances sake. Because they weren’t even on friendly terms, let alone friends. And Geoff was leaving the group, the band. So why not just let him fade off into obscurity?
The last thing the cops found of Geoff was his fingerprints on the bottle of hooch he had drunk from and his pee in the toilet bowl he hadn’t flushed. And his clothes in the bag he had packed so he could go out to the airport in a rush the next morning.
Geiff never made his flight. Never picked up his rental car. Or checked out of the hotel. The room was paid for by the band. So it’s not like he was skipping out on the bill. There was no need.
Geoff’s credit cards were never used again. And it’s not like Geoff was rich. I mean roadies make a decent salary for a big named band, but they aren’t likely to have a lot of money, unless they’re embezzling. And nobody found evidence of that in the band’s books.
So he became a question that was asked now and then when a reporter had nothing else to ask. Or a fan had a fond memory of Geoff getting them an autograph or some piece of merch they wanted. And he was remembered kindly
for not asking for a blow job to do the favour. Geoff was always remembered as a good man.
So where did he go? Nobody knew… except maybe the band leader?