Rocked Forever Read Online Free Page A

duffel bag onto an empty table.
    Rick looked up and flipped them off. "Where you been, assholes?"
    "Trying to get every last minute of sleep possible," Joe said. "This schedule is brutal."
    Rick grunted. "You're the one who wanted to get serious about this shit. Hope you had sweet dreams."
    Joe opened the bathroom door and sighed with happiness. There was a shower, and it looked safe to be barefoot in. A small miracle.
    From behind him, Dex said, "Was dreaming about your mum, Ricky. She's a real hellcat in bed. Truly depraved."
    Joe turned in time to see the empty duffel bag smack Dex in the head.
    Everyone laughed.
    He shook his head and stepped into the bathroom. There were even clean towels. He pulled the door almost closed and turned on the water before stripping off and stepping into the tiny stall. He'd only been in for a few second when someone entered the room.
    "Sorry," Matthew called out. "Club guy said the other bathroom's busted and I really need to piss."
    Joe groaned. "It's fine. Don't worry, I won't peek."
    Matthew laughed. "Are you kidding? Who'd even notice? This last month I've seen your dick almost as often as my own."
    "You flirting with me, Daniels?"
    "We haven't been on the road that long. Yet."
    Joe heard the toilet flush and the water ran ice cold. "Shit." He just stood there waiting for it to warm up again, a half smile on his face. It was nice to see Matthew clearly happy. He was so quiet and thoughtful, sometimes Joe wondered if he even liked being in the band. But between Dex's constant drunken yammering and Rick's blunt dickishness, it was refreshing to have someone around who didn't feel the need to express their every thought and emotion to the entire world.
    Joe rinsed off in the now lukewarm water, wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower. He headed back into the dressing room, where Ryan was bringing in a big cardboard box.
    He set the box down, and the scent of fried heaven filled the room, managing to overcome the now familiar stench of stale booze and sweat from decades of bands.
    "Joseph, put some pants on and grab a burger. I need to talk to you alone."
    The other guys were already digging into the food like a pack of wild animals.
    "Uh-oh, you're in trouble, golden boy," Rick said, shoveling fries into his mouth.
    "Shut up, you big idiot." Joe dragged his jeans from the pile of clean-ish clothes, and pulled them on. He used the towel to swipe at his head and grabbed a bag of food. "Ready when you are, Ryan."
    *
    Joe paused and cocked his head to the side.
    I'd been so engrossed in his story that I almost forgot I was supposed to be involved. "Why'd you stop?"
    He smiled. "I was just remembering how crazy everything felt back then. We'd decided to really go for it, try to make the band into something, and it was amazing. Broke, always hungover, aching from sleeping in that stupid van most nights and lugging our own gear everywhere. Looking back, I usually remember the fun we had. Nostalgia, right? But it was stressful, too. Working constantly and playing for crowds that hated us or were indifferent, and we didn't even know what would come of it, if anything."
    "And if nothing had? If you hadn't ended up hugely successful, would it have been worth it?"
    Joe thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah. Absolutely. And in some ways, it would be easier. Still playing tiny clubs. Making enough to get by. I love where we are, but there's a whole other level of pressure I never imagined." He scratched his ear. "Did you know I have an assistant?"
    "No," I said, unsure where this was going.
    "Yeah. Like a person who works just for me. I pay his salary. A whole guy I support. I mean, I don't personally write the checks or whatever, but… yeah. It's really weird shit. He's a cool dude, really helps and I need him. But I still remember when having an actual manager felt like the coolest thing in the world. It was only a few years ago, and everything has changed so much."
    "I'm