Candy Canes and Drumsticks

“Do we have to do this? You guys know how much I can’t stand these things.” Nathan shivered as the wind kicked up, throwing snow in his face.

“Brock already told Fran we’d attend, so suck it up for a few hours.” Ryan shot back.

“Who’s Fran again?” Seth asked, ringing the buzzer of a sky-high steel building.

“She’s the singer for the Cheshire Chicks.” Roger said.

“Who is it?” A female voice answered.

“The Silver Coffin Sound.” Seth replied.

“Come on in.”

Letting out a last exasperated sigh, Nathan went in with his bandmates, and they rode up to the twelfth floor. “Tiffany was upset she couldn’t come.” He smoothed his curly black hair as Roger knocked on the door numbered ‘6.’

“So was Dori but what could I do? Invite was for ‘musicians only.’” Seth brushed the flakes off his coat as the door opened, and a woman with long blue hair poked her head out.

“Evening, gentlemen. Come on in. Party’s only getting started.” She moved aside, and they entered the flat to see it decked out for Christmas. Everything from festive garland to a lit-up tree. “I’ll take your coats.” They handed them over. “Plenty of food, plenty of drinks, and enjoy yourselves.” She disappeared, and the guys were left looking around.

“Well, gentlemen. Shall we mingle?” Ryan asked.

Nathan shrugged. “Might as well. I guess it can’t hurt to make some connections. I need a drink first.” Without waiting for a reply, he went straight to the bar set up in the corner, and scanned the selections. ‘Hmm… she went all out for this. Everything from beer to pricey wines. Never thought the Cheshires were doing that well.’

“What’ll you have, honey?” The woman making drinks asked him with a cheery smile.

‘Ugh.’ He thought. ‘How can anyone enjoy these parties? Especially this one who has to serve everyone.’ He scanned the bottles again. ‘Make the most of it, Nate.’ “Newcastle. Bottled.”

“You got it, handsome.” She winked then turned to retrieve the beer from a cooler.

‘Did that just happen?’ He blinked. ‘Bloody hell, I’m glad Tiff’s not here. She’d be giving this lady the death glare.’ When she turned around, bottle in hand, he took note of how the bartender was dressed: red dress with fluffy white trim, matching hat, and red-and-green stockings. Full-on North Pole elf attire. ‘Some folks really get into the season.’ He didn’t think about it anymore as she smiled brighter, revealing pearled teeth.

“One Newcastle.” She passed it over, and when he grabbed the cold beer, he felt her lightly brush his fingers. “Come back for another.”

“Uh, right.” She was cute; he couldn’t deny that but he had a steady girlfriend and wasn’t about to get in trouble with her. Walking away as casually but as quickly as possible, he looked around at who was attending. He recognised musicians who’d played the Echo Club, like the bassist from Fallen Trees, and the drummer from Beowulf’s Knights.

Not seeing his own bandmates anywhere in sight, Nathan walked over to the Beowulf’s Knight’s drummer and said, “Evening, Henry. Don’t know if you remember me but I’m with the Silver Coffin Sound.”

The young man around the same age squinted green eyes at him for a moment then smiled. “Oh yeah! Nathan, right?” The other drummer nodded. “Think we’ve played the Echo Club with you mates a few times.” They shook hands. “How you been?”

“Can’t complain, save for this party. Can’t stand these things, but our manager told Fran we’d be here, so here I am.” He sipped his beer, letting the familiar flavor roll around on his palate.

“I know what you mean. I’d rather be practicing for the next gig than pretending I enjoy socialising.” Henry looked around and rolled his eyes. “Three-quarters of these blokes, I don’t even know, let alone, heard of. Be something if Mick Jagger or Geezer Butler were here, but that ain’t likely to happen.”

Nathan shrugged. “Who knows? One of ‘em may be here now. We just ain’t seen ‘em.”

“This place ain’t that big.” Henry gulped his beer. “You want another?”

“Not yet, tell ya the truth. Bartender was giving me the eye, if you get me.”

The other drummer raised a dark eyebrow. “She trying to get with ya?” He looked over. “She’s cute. Maybe you should.”

“And maybe I shouldn’t as my lady would murder me in the slowest way possible. Even if she wouldn’t, I’m not the type to do that.”

“Point taken. Those things have a way of getting out, too.”

“Don’t I know. The media’s always looking for dirt to throw on someone, even if it’s false.”

“Bloody tabloids.” The other drummer heard someone call his name from across the room. “’Scuse me a minute, Nate.”

“Right.” Realising he was standing alone, Nathan moved to one of the windows that looked over the city. Snow was falling thicker and faster, and he was grateful his group had opted not to drive. The walk home would be cold but it was less of a hassle. Taking a long drink, he thought about what he’d gotten Tiffany for Christmas and smiled as he imagined the look on her face when she unwrapped the gifts. ‘She’s gonna be surprised for certain.’ He polished off the beer with another gulp, and decided to get another, despite his better judgement telling him not to. ‘May as well attempt to enjoy myself.’

“You’re back soon.” The elf-dressed woman said, looking over the shoulder of someone else currently looking at the selections. “Be with you shortly.”

“No hurry.” Nate said, glancing around for Ryan, Seth, or Roger. Still nowhere to be found but he did see another musician he knew.

Before he could move, a cheery voice addressed him. “What’ll it be this time?”

“Just another Newcastle.”

“Sure you don’t want something stronger?” She asked with a sly look.

“Maybe later.” He replied quickly. ‘For the love of Saint Nick, I wish she’d stop that.’

She shrugged. “Suit yourself, handsome.”

“Thanks. I will.” He snatched the beer in the politest way possible and went to find someone else to talk to. He spotted the front man for Steel Horses and maneuvered his way to a circle of five people. Thankfully, Ryan was among them.

“Nate! There you are!” His bandmate welcomed him into the conversation.

“Haven’t gone anywhere else, Ryan.” Nathan smirked. “How you been lately, Jimmy?”

The shorter, dark-eyed man clapped him on the shoulder. “Never better, Nate. Never better.”

“Why’s that?” Another musician asked.

“Band just signed a three-album deal with EMI, and we start recording in February. I was beginning to wonder if we’d ever get noticed.”

“The Steel Horses don’t have one particular sound, so I think that’s what got you guys noticed.”

“All of it wouldn’t be possible without Alex, Zee.” Jimmy said, gesturing to the blond woman with glasses about ten feet away. “Not only can she play bass as good as Steve Harris but she can write music better than almost anyone I know.”

“Maybe she should teach Roger a thing or two.” Nathan said, looking at Ryan, who nodded. “He’s been trying so hard lately but can’t seem to come up with anything.” He shook his beer, seeing that he’d finished it quicker than he’d intended to. “Looks like I need another. You lads want anything?” They shook their heads, and he went back to the bar.

“Third time now? Guess you really enjoy what I’ve been serving you.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Too bad. Could be fun. What’ll it be this time?”

Nathan took his time, scanning the wine offerings. “Vermouth and Soda, made with red.”

“Coming up.” She turned to make his request while he looked around to see if he knew anyone else. He figured he’d go back to where Ryan was but the keyboardist had already moved on.

“Here you go!” The festively dressed blonde winked at him again, causing him to snatch the glass and roll his eyes.

“Hey, Nate! Was wondering where you went.” Henry called out.

“Just mingling about, looking for anyone else I know.”

“What’cha got there?” He asked, popping an hord’oeuvre.

“Vermouth and Soda. Tastes pretty strong but I’ve already had two beers though.”

“Never a good idea to mix but what do I know?” Henry licked his fingers. “So, what’s next for the Silver Coffin Sound?”

“Attempting to sign an album deal but our manager keeps coming up empty-handed. Seems like everyone wants to screw us out of money any way they can.” He gulped about half of his drink, noting the buzz was increasing. “Whatever. I’m happy as long as we’re getting paid and making the music we wanna make.”

“I heard about the Steel Horses getting signed to EMI. That’s a big step for them.”

“They’ve been at it longer than either of us have, so it’s about time something paid off for them.”

“True. Seen too many bands fall apart lately cuz they don’t have the right connections.” Nate saw Roger out his peripheral. “Can only hope that doesn’t happen to us.” He finished the Vermouth and Soda without thinking, and blinked rapidly as the alcohol punched him twice. “Whoa!” He grabbed Henry to keep from hitting the floor. “What the hell was in that?” He shook his head but the motion only made him dizzy. “Damn! I need to sit down.”

“Easy there, buddy.” The other musician helped him over to the window overlooking the street and carefully sat him down. “You just need to focus.

“My head’s pounding like a bass drum. I can’t see very well.” He looked at his friend and thought he was seeing double. At one point (he couldn’t recall how much time had passed), he thought he heard someone calling his name. Brown eyes squinted at the shape (shapes?) in front of him. ‘That looks like Roger.’

“Nate! Nate! Snap out of it, man!” The voice was Roger’s but Nathan barely processed that information before everything went black.

“Think he’s coming out of it now.”

“What happened to him?”

“Don’t know but he was out for at least an hour. Hey, mate. ‘Bout time you woke up.”

“My head’s killing me. What’s going on?” Nathan saw his friends hovering over him, concerned and relieved. “Thought we were supposed to be at a party.”

“We are but you passed out ‘bout an hour ago. We don’t know why.”

The drummer rubbed his eyes as things came into focus. “Think I know but can’t be certain.” He told his theory of how the bartender was making eyes at him every time he went to the bar because she most likely wanted to get with him. He recounted that she’d called him ‘handsome’ more than once and had purposely brushed his fingers whenever she’d hand him something. “She probably put something in that last one. I never actually saw her make it.”

The band members looked at each other. “That’s a pretty heavy accusation but not farfetched either. Some women will do anything to sleep with celebrities.” Seth said. “What’d you drink?”

“Vermouth and Soda, made with red wine, and I know wine never hits me this hard. Even when I’ve had two beers prior.” He rubbed his head. “You guys didn’t happen to find her with me, did you?” They all shook their heads.

“Roger found you by the window in the other room. Henry from Beowulf’s Knights was with you.” Ryan pointed out.

Nathan felt relief. “Thank goodness. Think I’d have some explaining to do otherwise.”

“We would’ve backed you up, and I’m sure Tiffany knows by now you wouldn’t do anything with another woman.” Roger said. “Feel like hanging around a bit longer?”

“Yeah, but I should probably tell our hostess to get a different bartender. Don’t want anyone else to deal with this.”

“Let’s go find her.” The group helped their friend stand up then they all went to find Fran, who was in a conversation with the members of The Elderberries.

“’Scuse us, Fran, but can we speak to you for a moment?” Ryan asked.

“Of course. Pardon me for a moment.” She excused herself then followed the Silver Coffin Sound to the hall so they wouldn’t be overheard. “What’s going on, gentlemen?” Nathan relayed what he felt happened to him in about five minutes but the woman’s reaction wasn’t what any of them expected. “Honestly, I can’t say I blame her.” All their eyes went wide. “Think about it: everyone here is either up and coming or already well-known, so that sort of stuff is almost expected to go on.” She looked at the stunned faces. “Don’t you guys know anything about being famous? Given who you’re descended from, figured that was a no-brainer.”

“You’re serious!?” Nathan practically yelled. She nodded. “I could’ve potentially died from too much booze or something else entirely and you shrug it off like it’s par for the course?” She shrugged. “Bloody unbelievable!”

“You can’t take it then break up the band. And personally,” she looked over each one of them slowly, “I wouldn’t mind jumping any one of your drumsticks. Any of you boys ever looking for a good time, the Cheshire Chicks are the sweetest pieces of candy you’ll ever get.”

“What the bloody hell are you on, woman?” Ryan asked. “Parading your own band as whores? Now, I see how you climbed to the top of the charts so fast.”

She winked at him. “Only way to do it in this industry, honey. Without working your arse off in the studio anyway. And by the way,” she looked Nate directly in the eyes, “the bartender: she’s my drummer.” And the hostess left them standing in the hallway.

“What just happened here?” Seth asked after a few moments of silence.

“Think we’ve been given a crash course in how the music business truly operates.” Nathan said, his head starting to pound again. “I can’t take this right now, mates. Can we go?”

“Gladly.” Roger said, heading to the lift. On the way down, Ryan phoned their manager and relayed the experience to him. The response he got was almost as astonishing. “What’d Brock have to say?” The bassist asked when they stepped outside.

The keyboard player shook his head. “He said he wasn’t surprised that it happened but he also wouldn’t accept any other invites that said ‘musicians only’ anymore.”

Seth shoved his hands into his pockets. “Wacked out shit, being an artist. And I thought nutty fan mail was bad.”

“Looks like we’re in for a ride, mates.” Nathan said as they turned a corner. “Question is: are we willing to take it?” They all stopped and looked at each other. If tonight’s party had taught them anything, it was that they’d have to look past the candy coating to see the truth.

“I’m in.” Seth said.

“Me too.” Ryan declared.

“Same here.” Roger said.

“All in it together.” Nate said as they resumed walking. “Hope Tiff’s still up when I get home.”

“If she’s anything like Trixie, she will be. That woman runs on three hours a night!” Ryan joked.

“Not Terry. She could sleep though a hurricane.”

“So could Dori.”

As they were laughing, Nathan messaged his lady, telling her he was on his way back. She responded, ‘Didn’t expect you so soon, but no matter. I’ve got a candy cane waiting for you.’ He smiled and pocketed his mobile. He couldn’t wait to see her now.