Page 13 of Doc Rock
“We’ve got thirty minutes until showtime.”Donnie pulled Ford’s attention back to their show.“Let’s make it the best one yet.”
Ryan threw up again. The only response to his vomiting was Donnie rolling his eyes.
Ford sat down on a chair as far away from Ryan as hecouldand closed his eyes, trying to centre himself andgetready. He breathed deeply in and held his breath, then slowly released it,feelinghis racing heart gradually slow to its normal, steady beat.
As his mind relaxed, it veered straight to Sie again.
He pictured her hair, her eyes, her beautiful smile andheardher laugh. He tried to clear his thoughts, but she wouldn’t stay out. So he resigned himself to thinking about her rather than having to deal with Ryan, who had stopped vomiting and was now trying to justify his actions to Scotty and Joel.
His bandmates sounded tired of Ryan’s shit. The same shit Ford had grown tired of ten years ago when he left rehab with a new perspective on life and a determination not to fall foul of the twenty-seven club and become yet another musician who didn’t survive beyond that age.
“We’re on stage in ten minutes,”Donnie announced. He strode to the door and leaned out, saying,“We’re going on stage. Can you check Ryan out before we go?”
“I don’t need the help back,”Ryan yelled belligerently.
The doctor walked around the door, and even from his chair, Fordsawthe fire in her eyes that her large pink glasses couldn’t obscure.
Leaning down to Ryan, she got right into his face, not even flinching when what must have been vomit-smelling breath hit her.
“Why don’t you grow up?”she snarled.
Ryan blinked a couple of times, then slurred,“I don’t talk to the help.”
“To be fair, the‘help’isn’t keen on talking to you either, arsehole. Hold your hand out, and I’ll take the drip out.”
“Bitch. Be polite,”Ryan spat and leapt to his feet.
The sudden movement made his face go green, and he swallowed to keep the vomit in. Then he used his height to try and intimidate the doctor, who was, at most, five-foot-two.
Ford dived across the room, growling at his bandmate,“Sit down.”
Putting his hand on the guitarist’s shoulder, he pushed until Ryan slumped back into the seat.
“What’s wrong with you?”Ford demanded.“She’s trying to help you, and you’re acting like a dick. Sit down, shut up and let her take the drip out so we can play this show.”
The doctor didn’t say anything or even look at Ford. She reached over to Ryan and efficiently removed the drip from his arm, sticking a bandage over the top to stop it from bleeding. She picked her medical bag up and, keeping her head down and not speaking to any of them, walked out of the room.
Donniewatchedher go, and when the door shut behind her, he turned to Ford, a strange expression on his face.“She didn’t take any shit from Ryan,” he muttered.
Ford nodded in agreement.“It waslike she was trying hard to control herself at first, and then it slipped out.”
Donnie checked hiswatch.“Okay, lads. Let’s go and give them a show.”
Ford rolled his neck, squeezing his eyes closed, pulling on his‘rock god’persona like a familiar jacket.
When he opened them, he was ready for the show and strode out of the room.
Ford surveyed the audience in front of him.
He would miss the crowds, who hung on his every word and sang lyrics in time with him.
He wouldn’t miss Ryan, who he kept needing to cover for on guitar, as the other man couldn’t keep up with their songs.
“Thank you so much for your support tonight,”he said into the microphone.“We normally finish our show with the next song, but we decided to do something different. We’re going to slow it down for a few songs as, after twenty years, we’re now old men and need a break.”
Ford waited for the ripple of laughter to spread through the audience at his joke.
“Seriously, Ifeellike the luckiest man in the world that a band my three best friends and I formed when we were kids has gone on to become the band youseebefore you today.”
