18
Remy
I couldn’t calm my nerves. It was Saturday, we were in Chicago, and we’d be playing in hours—mere hours—in front of a new crowd of listeners, a larger venue, pickier fans who were used to having bigger named bands in their club. And we were getting paid ten times the usual amount.
It was as if we were actually on our way to somewhere!
Asher had rented a van to take the four of us together plus all our equipment, my drum set taking up the most room. It was cramped, and stunk to high heaven—because Heath had a serious gas problem—when we alighted in the city, four hours after being trapped in one vehicle together. I gasped for air as soon as I pushed out the side-sliding back door. But God, as soon as I got into my room at the hotel where we were planning on staying the night bef
