Roadie In Love - 1. First Meeting

Eighteen-year-old Kevin Lewiston stood in his living room contemplating his future, which he expected to be extremely short at that moment. This required his reviewing the past six or so months.

The shitstorm started early New Year's Day with the death of his boyfriend Lenny Allen. Kevin had been seeing Lenny for a little under a year. Lenny moved into town in the middle of their junior year of high school, they met in Chemistry class and discovered they had some chemistry of their own. It took a few weeks before they each suspected, the other was gay. By then, they had become good friends. At a casual lunch at a local pizza joint, Lenny shared his deepest secret, believing he could trust Kevin not to abandon their friendship. Lenny was right, and they subsequently shared their first kiss after returning to Kevin’s house. Later, they shared more, but it took them until Christmas before they shared themselves with the other completely, having sex for the first time.

After an alcohol-free New Year’s Eve party, they parted ways. Lenny was killed by a drunk driver on his way home. Obviously, Kevin was devastated.

Things continued to go downhill two months later with his mother's diagnosis of ovarian cancer. The family hoped it was caught early, but alas, that was not meant to be. She was already in Stage IV.

The storm kept building six weeks after that, when his father, a high school teacher in a nearby town, was killed in a school shooting. As often happened, the shooter killed himself after killing seven and injuring twelve others.

The dirt was barely in place on his father’s grave when his mother died another week after that. The whole mess was compounded by the fact that Kevin’s parents had been preparing a big celebration for their twentieth wedding anniversary. Most of their relatives were in southwest Missouri, so a family vacation was planned in Branson. Until New Year’s Day, the family would have included Lenny. Just one more straw on Kevin’s back toward his breaking point.

Then, just over two weeks ago, Kevin came home from school, perused the mailbox as usual, and discovered that the dickhead landlord left a letter in there; he wasn't renewing the lease on the apartment. That gave Kevin a month, until the end of June. Kevin had enough money to keep paying rent thanks to life insurance, but him not having a job was all the dickhead could think about.

What he felt was the final straw, while not completely unexpected, was getting his final report card in the mail earlier today. Two recent trips to the mailbox, two shots to his psyche. Kevin was more depressed than he’d ever been before.

Kevin reacted poorly. ‘I knew, I did badly on a couple final exams, with all the shit that happened recently, how could I not? But completely failing four classes dictated, I'd have to repeat them next year.’

He could only have made up two of them in summer school. Another year of high school was not appetizing in the least. He was out, and most kids didn’t care, but the ones that did, well, he had absolutely no desire to spend another ten months in hell.

‘Fucking James Pittson and his cronies were going to annoy the hell out of me. Like I need shit like that from dirtbag like them. Too bad James couldn’t have graduated after three years.’

Kevin saw no reason to continue living. The prospect of being homeless and repeating twelfth grade was just too much for him to bear. He was pissed at the landlord, so he was originally planning on bleeding to death all over the living room.

‘Let that dickhead have a fucking mess on his hands. I don’t give a shit anymore.’

The television was on, tuned to one of the music choice channels, Kevin barely aware of it. He stood there, razor blade in hand, wondering why he should bother continuing. Through his fog, he recognized his current favorite song, "Is This All There Is?" by 'Deja Vu.' He felt the song kind of mirrored his own life. The main character had lost his girlfriend, his job, his home and was contemplating suicide. Granted, Kevin lost a boyfriend six months earlier, not a girlfriend, he didn't have a job, but he was losing his home—so, he figured, it was close enough.

The song was half over before he realized it and looked at the TV. Just then, the lead guitarist Eric Targon was on the screen. Kevin thought, he was gorgeous. Shirtless, long, black, almost Brian May-like curly hair. On the screen, Eric turned around to hand the solo over to the drummer. Tight, black jeans accented the curves of his ass. This caused him to drop the razor blade, pick up the remote, and rewind back to the beginning of the song.

He rewound and paused many times as he considered an action. He knew Deja Vu was touring this summer; he could follow them and go to as many concerts as he could; become a groupie. He'd have to figure out a way to get up front so Eric might notice him. What the fuck, he could dream. He didn't have much else at this point. Just meeting Eric would be enough. He had no aspersions of obtaining any further relationship. Returning to school wasn’t palatable. He’d have to live in his car anyway. Why not do it on the road?

What to do to the landlord, besides bleeding all over the room, consumed his thoughts. Finally, an idea hit him. There was still most of a six pack of beer in the refrigerator. He never drank; could he get drunk enough to be sick on five beers? It couldn't hurt to try.

After twenty or so replays of the video, the beer was gone, and he felt like shit. He sat down on the couch, leaned over, and vomited on the carpet. Since you can only rent beer, he emptied his bladder in the kitchen, pointing the stream anywhere and everywhere; even opening the oven door and squirting in there. For the Pièce de résistance, he shat in the dining room, and used an old pair of his father's shoes to grind it into the carpet. His anger toward the landlord far exceeded his concern for any thought of maturity.

He packed up about half his clothes, his laptop, PS5, Yamaha keyboard, and some games. He carried it all out to the Equinox; had another thought and went back in for a blanket. He was still drunk, so he didn't go far, just to the strip mall around the corner. It was already starting to get dark, so he decided he'd sleep there that night. It was located next to a wooded area, so nature’s bathroom was convenient to rid himself of the rest of the beer.

Kevin woke up the next morning feeling no better than before he vomited. 'Did I really do that?' he thought. A few drops of something greenish yellow on his sneakers told him, 'Yes you did. The landlord is gonna be pissed.'

'I need to disappear.' Kevin reached under the dashboard to remove the cover from the fuse box. He connected to a random free Wi-Fi hotspot, and a quick Google search told him which fuse was connected to the OnStar system. He pulled it. 'Try and find me now, dickhead.' Yeah, maturity had not yet reappeared. Fortunately for Kevin, the two-month security deposit his parents had provided upon moving in was sufficient to cover the damages he’d left behind. The landlord wouldn’t have to forcibly evict Kevin, as he suspected. With no legal fees thus expected, he cut his losses and passed on chasing down Kevin.

Kevin searched and found that Deja Vu's tour was starting in eight days in Boston. Kevin now had a direction to go, Northeast. Avoiding tolls, he was looking at seventeen and a half hours between O'Fallen, Illinois, where he lived; well, previously lived, and TD Garden in Boston. He'd never driven more than maybe two hours at a time. 'Shit, I could drive three hours a day and get there on time.' But with nothing else to really do, with multiple stops, he averaged a little under seven hours a day and got to Boston in three days.

Now that he knew he was there, he could buy a ticket. There were single seats available near the back of the floor, but he was hoping he could sneak up to the stage, or maybe bribe an usher to let him move up. 'Everybody in the first couple rows will be standing against the rail, so it's not like I'll need an actual seat.'

He was concerned if the landlord really wanted to chase him down, he'd go to the cops who could track his credit card use. 'Fuck it, I'll take my chances.' Ticket purchased, he did a few searches for Walmart and grocery stores outside the city. If he only slept one night in each place, he felt he could get away with it. Those places always had overnight workers; one more car wouldn't be noticed. Most of the rest of the tour dates were no more than two days apart. Plan in place, he chose his first overnight destination, got something to eat, and parked.

The next five days bored the shit out of him, but the possibility, however remote, of meeting Eric kept him going. On the day of the concert, he got to the arena early, and found a parking spot away from a light. He didn't need all his shit easily seen and then stolen; although he did cover as much as he could with the blanket. He then waited for the doors to open. With a handful of tens and twenties in his wallet, he hoped twenty would be enough to bribe an usher. He was willing to pay just about anything, though. A few nights later, just about anything would no longer be cash. But tonight, fifty dollars got him a place to stand near the right edge of the stage.

Deja Vu wasn't a headlining act; they were the opening act. Ten minutes after the scheduled start time, the drummer pounded out the beat to the first song. Kevin maneuvered his way to his left, knowing that Eric usually mostly stayed on that side of the stage. He'd found enough videos on-line to feel safe in that assumption. The lights came up, and there was Eric; fifteen feet almost directly in front of him. Kevin remained there for the entire fifty minutes the group played. Eric flipped guitar picks into the crowd after the final song. He looked at Kevin and flicked one directly at him. Without thinking, Kevin shouted, "I love you, Eric!" Eric smiled. He’d heard it from fans before and knew it was only fan-speak.

‘Fucking-A, Eric smiled at me.’ Being six-foot-three, very young-looking, lean one hundred and sixty-five pounds, with bright blond hair and bright blue eyes, he was easily noticed. The haters at school had called him ‘pretty-boy.’ Kevin didn't give a shit about the headliners, so he worked his way to an exit, practically walking on air all the way. He stopped at the concession stand and bought a Deja Vu T-shirt, planning on wearing it to the concert the next night in Providence, Rhode Island.

'He saw me. He really, really, saw me.' After getting to his car, he drove to his chosen overnight parking lot, curled up with his new T-shirt, and fell asleep with a huge smile on his face.

The next morning, he woke up happy, still finding it hard to believe, he not only stood just feet away from Eric, but was actually noticed. He shook himself fully awake and headed to an IHOP for breakfast. He hadn't showered for a few days, since he left home, so he resolved to get a motel room for that night. Tomorrow's concert is in Hartford. Maybe the third time would be a charm, and he could even shake Eric's hand. He wouldn't want to stink if he got that opportunity. He washed himself as best he could in the IHOP's bathroom and started his drive to Providence.

Once again, he got to the arena early, went through the same process as yesterday, got lucky and only needed to give the usher, who probably wasn't any older than Kevin, a twenty to get up close to the stage. No guitar pick tonight, but Eric did sort of look at him with a 'do I know you?' look. Same deal, he left after Deja Vu was done and tonight drove to the Super 8 to get a room and a shower.

Seeing Eric up close two days in a row helped along the boner he got while soaping himself up. He imagined Eric was in the shower with him, which led to an explosive orgasm. The shot was so hard, it almost reached the top of the shower curtain. Kevin considered wiping it off, but then thought, 'It ain't the fucking Hilton, I’ll just leave it there.' Then another thought arose: It would have been nice to leave the landlord a similar present. 'Oh well, too late for that. Maybe when they play St. Louis and if he hasn't changed the locks.' He rinsed his new T-shirt in the sink and hung it over the shower rod to dry for tomorrow.

Hartford didn't go as well as Boston and Providence. He initially looked for a younger usher to try to bribe but was unable to find anyone other than old men, none of whom would even consider taking money to let him move up. He was able to get a ticket halfway up the lower level, stage left, so he was still reasonably close to where Eric played. It pissed him off royally when Eric seemed disappointed when throwing the guitar picks. 'Was he actually looking for me? No, he couldn't be.'

Two nights later was the start of a two-night stay at Prudential Center in Newark. Kevin couldn't get a floor seat for the first night, so again, he had to settle for the lower bowl, stage left. This time he was only in the third row. Before the final song, he screamed out Eric's name one last time, hoping beyond hope that he would finally be heard, since he hadn’t been so far. Eric looked toward where he was standing. Kevin jumped around like a raving lunatic, but Eric saw him, giving him a thumbs’ up before striking the first chord to "Is This All There Is?" After the song finished, Kevin reminisced, 'No fucking way. He looked toward me three times during the song.' No motel room for that night, but Kevin did need to toss one pair of white-stained underpants into a nearby dumpster before he fell asleep. His adoration for Eric was quickly turning into a crush.

Kevin was extremely lucky for night two in Newark. He had gotten a second-row floor seat, again, stage left. As usual, the closest rows bolted for the barrier. Kevin was behind another guy, but since he was short, Kevin knew that if Eric looked this way, he would surely be seen. Eric looked. Eric smiled. During a drum solo, he came to the edge of the stage, pointed at Kevin and said "You must be one hell of a fan." Eric tossed a wristband to Kevin. The kid in front of him was astounded.

"Oh, my fucking God! Eric gave you a wristband."

"Yeah, my collection is growing, I got a pick in Boston."

"You were in Boston, too?"

"Every show so far."

"You're so lucky. I could barely scrape up enough dough to come tonight, but nothing was keeping me away. I love their music."

The kid turned back around to watch the rest of the show. Kevin didn't realize he said it out loud, but nobody heard him anyway.

"I think I love Eric."

With a night off for the band, it was a long day of masturbation fantasies for Kevin. Madison Square Garden was next. Once again, Eric got a floor seat, but it wasn't anywhere near the stage. With plenty of time before the concert started, he did find a younger usher to try to bribe; probably around twenty.

"No man, I can't do it. I don't want to lose my job."

"Come on. I'll do anything to get up close."

"Anything?"

"Yeah."

The usher thought for a moment, then said, "Follow me."

Kevin followed him to the family bathroom. A quick look around to make sure there were no other employees in sight and the guy led Kevin in.

"You want to get close; I get a blowjob."

Kevin contemplated this counteroffer. Eric had already noticed him multiple times. If he gave up trying to be recognized further, would his dream end? He’d given other guys blowjobs before; would it be so bad to give this dude one? Desperation won out over discretion.

"Okay."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Like I said, anything."

"Are you coming back tomorrow night?"

Kevin had already purchased a ticket that was nowhere near the stage.

"Yeah, I'll be here."

The guy dropped his pants and Kevin started sucking. It took less than two minutes before the guy was spurting into Kevin's mouth.

"Meet me outside gate three tomorrow at six, and I'll get you close again."

"Same deal?"

"No. You want to get close again, I'm fucking you."

"I'll have to think about that."

"Six o'clock. I come inside at five after and the deal's off. I tell my coworkers to look out for you, that you sneaked up front tonight. You do it again; you'll get kicked out."

"I got it."

The guy led Kevin to the front of stage-right. Kevin wasn't happy about that but wasn't pushing his luck. He was only able to move a little to his right.

When the band came on the stage, Eric looked into the crowd in front of him. 'Fuck. He's looking for me.' Unusual for him, although he’d done it in both Hartford and Newark, Eric roamed the stage a little for the first few songs. When he finally got to his far right, he saw Kevin, who was standing three rows deep, waving wildly. He looked at Kevin, smiled, and nodded. A few minutes later, he stopped a second to talk to his handler, roadie, whatever. He pointed toward Kevin and said something. Kevin didn’t read lips very well, so it was probably wishful thinking when he thought he saw ‘tall blond kid.’ The roadie nodded, frowning. At the start of the penultimate song, the roadie came down into the crowd, walked up to Kevin and grumbled "Come with me."

The roadie took Kevin around to the side of the stage, flashed some kind of credential to security and walked him up into the wings. He followed him around behind the stage and came out into the wings on Eric's side. The roadie picked up a guitar and handed it to Kevin, with a scowl on his face.

"When this song is over, bring this out to Eric."

"No way?"

"Yes way, shithead."

Kevin thought he was going to feint, walking onto the stage itself. The lights were dimmed, so he wasn't in the spotlight or anything, but he walked up to Eric, and held out the guitar. Eric disconnected the one he was using and swapped it with Kevin.

Pointing at the guy that got Kevin, Eric said, “Hang out with Chris after the show, he'll bring you to our dressing room."

Kevin was dumbfounded, could only nod, and hoped he didn't drop Eric's twelve string on the way off the stage.

Chris noticed his pallid look, "You okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

"No man, just so fucking happy."

Chris laughed. He thought to himself, 'You think, you're happy now, wait an hour or so, you lucky fuck.'

The final song ended, and the band walked off the stage, right past Kevin. They all nodded at him. Eric waited until the rest of the band passed.

"Just hang with Chris, do what he says, and I'll see you in a bit."

Once again speechless, Kevin could only nod.

"Hey. Snap out of it, asshole. You go get Eric's amp, bring it here, then help me with Pat's drum kit. Got it?"

"Yeah. Thanks man."

"Yeah, let's go, move your fucking ass."

Kevin didn't think Chris liked him much, but he brought the amp to the side of the stage then took each piece of the drum kit Chris handed him off-stage as well. After packing the drum kit away, Chris told Kevin to follow him. Chris knocked on a door, opened it, and said, "Have fun, jerkoff."

Kevin walked in and looked around. There was food, soft drinks, and booze everywhere. He wasn't about to touch anything until someone told him he could. It took a minute, but Eric noticed him and came over.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Eric....No, um Kevin Lewiston."

"Hey, don't be nervous, I'm just a regular guy like you. Grab some food and something to drink. Have a good time and I'll catch up with you later."

"Um. Okay."

"Hey, Eric. Who's the cutie?"

"This is Kevin, and keep your paws off of him Mike."

"Fuck that."

Mike, the bass player, grabbed Kevin and gave him a hug, whispering, "Be cool kid, nobody's gonna bother you. Have fun."

Kevin just stared at Mike for a second. Mike tussled Kevin's hair and headed toward the makeshift bar. Kevin grabbed some food and just people-watched. The singer and rhythm guitarist, Cary, came up to him too.

"Eric picked you, huh?"

"Yeah. Amazingly."

"Nah, not amazing. He likes guys like you. You're in for a great time tonight. There's a few hundred guys and thousands of girls wishing they were you right now."

"Huh. Why?"

"My brother's gay, you didn't know that?"

"No. I mean, God, I dreamed it, but…"

"Don't worry. He doesn't take advantage of anybody. And it's really not that often he invites someone backstage afterwards. You're one lucky kid."

Cary gave Kevin a playful punch in the arm.

"My brother hitting on you?"

Scared, Kevin stammered, "Huh? No."

"Kevin, chill. So, you've been to most of the shows so far, huh?"

"All of them. I couldn't get close in Hartford or the first night in Newark."

"Yeah, that's right, you acted like a maniac until I saw you. What's your favorite song of ours?"

"No doubt, 'Is This All There Is?' I love it. It's like it was written about me."

"I hope, you're kidding."

"No. It's not a whole lot different than what I've gone through the last six months or so."

"Shit. Wait here."

Eric went to talk to someone. A minute later, he and another guy followed Eric back over.

"You got a car here, Kevin?"

"Yeah."

"You remember where you parked?"

"Yeah, E4. E for Eric, 4 for letters in your name."

Eric laughed, "What are you driving?"

"A red Chevy Equinox."

"Give Jason here your keys, he'll bring it to the hotel after he drops us off."

"Hotel?"

"Yeah. You cool spending the night with me?"

"Oh. My. God. Are you kidding?"

"Nope. Ready to blow this Popsicle stand?"

"Oh, God. Yeah."

Next up - "From Groupie To Roadie/Lover?"