In the Absence of You by Sunniva Dee Read Free Book Online Page B

connection and forget about her.
    Right now, I feel good. I’ve got my growing worry under control. My brain is there, and my heart doesn’t feel the phantom pains of a future heartache. I like this feeling.
    We’ve all poured out of the buses and settled inside The Polka Dot, as the locals call it. Troll is running around yelling at staff, techs, and stagehands. The band chills in the green room, putting away sandwich meats without touching the bread and sipping the Mexican beer Elias got added to the hospitality rider.
    I swallow, peeking at Emil through a curtain of hair. I lean my butt against a broken monitor that serves as a makeshift table. He’s animated now, not paying attention to me. Talking about a song he’s got half done. “A dark one,” he says.
    That’s the thing about artists; if they’re thrown off emotionally, it doesn’t stop them from communicating in their chosen ways. And if you care for them, what they share can hurt. I want him to write songs like “The Entertainer” again.
    Nadia is here, eyes soft, leaning against her man. Entwined, their arms rest around her waist, the two of them facing a gesticulating Emil. Our lead singer is a burst of energy, himself, the only way I knew him in the beginning. His stare glitters with enthusiasm.
    Bo focuses on his friend, but at times during Emil’s monologue, his eyelids flutter shut before opening again. It hits me that it’s a profound sort of happiness that makes him do that. Cool and impenetrable, Bo’s irises usually remind me of the ice you find in millennium-old glaciers. But with Nadia in his arms, his gaze is anything but arctic.
    “Guys! Sound check,” Troll barks from the doorway.
    “Let’s test out ‘Bullshit’ on the system here,” Emil suggests to Bo as they walk past me, but Troll cuts him off before Bo can answer.
    “Right, great idea. It’s not like we’re already late for sound check because someone needed a McFlurry between the airport and The Polka Dot, so why don’t we noodle away on a couple of half-finished songs too, right?”
    Troll’s volume decreases on the way to the stage. “Remember your new opening act? Well, The Boings need the stage in twenty minutes flat, so here’s my humble suggestion: we do ‘Fuck You,’ we do ‘The Entertainer,’ and then you play—”
    “ Then we play ‘Bullshit?’” Emil snickers out.
    “Emil, dude. Give him a break.” There’s a warning in Bo’s pitch, but he’s entertained too. Nadia’s the only one left in the green room besides myself. I send her an amused glance. She’s got her arms folded over her chest, and she’s sucking her lips into her mouth, holding back mirth.
    “Always, huh?” I say, because in my experience, the band treats Troll like a cranky grandpa they can wind up.
    “Indeed.” Nadia lets out her chuckle, hands forming over her stomach like she’s already cramping with laughter. “Goodness knows what decides when that pack of hyenas pounces on him, but when they do, they have a ball.”
    I smile at her, Nadia, this girl from Buenos Aires. She has long, dark locks and golden skin like me. In the right outfit, she could have stepped out of the old wagons of my people. I don’t know her, don’t know her story, but the kinship is there. If she were one of us, I’d breathe a sigh of relief for her; Bo and she, they would have beaten the love fire.
    Her features sober, eyes dimming as her attention stills on me. “So… has Emil been okay since I was last out?”
    I nod. “No drinking binges. He talks about Zoe though. Or more, like, prods Bo for information. She rejects his phone calls, I guess?”
    Nadia pours herself more Diet Pepsi and tips a swallow into her mouth. “Zoe went through a lot with Emil. Has he told you what happened?”
    I shake my head and watch her fold her arms over her chest, uncomfortable. “It wasn’t good. I’m not going to throw blame around, but… anyway. Do you want to go out and watch the boys?”
    We