Free Greasepaint by David C. Hayes Page B

dressing room.
    The pair are quiet for a few moments after the detective leaves. Skeezer manages to end the silence.
    â€œOh shit. Did we fuck up?”
    Ricky hangs his head back down. “Yeah. We did.”

Chapter Twelve
    The club is filled to capacity, borderline overflowing. The fans undulate, back and forth, waiting for Corpus Delicti. Their patience wears thin and the packs of rabid music fans begin to loudly voice their displeasure.
    A small group of Orzo fans, complete with masks, enter the club and huddle together in a small group, moving like a bullhead shark through the people. The other fans part and make way for the Orzo fans. Even the most vociferous, angry fans, displeased with the delay, quiet. These are a different breed of fan. The Orzites are a bit more than even the hardcore fan can stomach.
    Heads held high, the huddled mass of Orzo masks stop in the center of the dance floor and stare at the empty stage in front of them. They are given a wide berth, despite the crowded dance floor.
    Outside the club, Michael kicks a garbage can, sending the cheap metal bucket sailing down the alleyway. The trash strewn about the alley from the can advertises the current show and that just makes him angrier.
    Mona exits from the service entrance and scans the alley. She sees Michael and heads for him. Michael turns, ready to rage, but is caught in Mona’s hug. He relents.
    He sobs, the emotions taking over, into Mona’s ear.
    â€œI can’t believe those guys.”
    â€œI know. Remember, our future could be set here…those guys, I don’t know. We’ll manage.”
    Michael pulls away and leans against the alley wall. He slumps down to the ground, squatting above the filth of the alley. Mona, keeping her hand on his shoulder, stands next to him. Michael gets the feeling that she always would.
    â€œWhy the fuck would they do that?” he asks.
    â€œThe press. You know how important this show is.”
    â€œIt doesn’t give them the right.”
    â€œNo, it doesn’t.”
    A moment passes. Both of them contemplating various futures, running scenarios in their minds, desperately searching for an exit plan.
    Mona breaks the silence, addressing the 800 pound gorilla. “Do we do the show?”
    Michael stands. “We have to. This might be it.”
    Mona nods and sighs. She had come to the same conclusion. The other gorilla rears its ugly head. “And Ricky?”
    â€œAfter.”
    Mona nods again. Their hands find each other and Mona and Michael stand, staring into one another’s eyes, ready to take on the world.
    â€œMichael!” a voice calls out from the alley.
    The couple turns to find Orzo bursting from the inky darkness. Michael squeals, involuntarily, and steps back against the wall. Mona takes a step forward, ready to defend her lover when this particular Orzo steps into a pool of light to reveal it was just another one of the Orzites in the cheap Orzo mask.
    Breathless, the Orzo fan skids to halt in front of Michael and Mona with his hand outstretched. He holds a pen and paper. “I’m so lucky I went outside to smoke,” he manages to get out between heaving breaths. “I’ve got you all to myself!” The fan shoves the pen and paper at Michael. “Sign this, please?”
    Michael shrinks back trying to burrow into the wall while Mona slaps the paper and pen out of the fan’s hands.
    â€œWhat gives you the right, freak?” Mona spits out. It is less a question and more a declaration of disgust.
    The Orzo fan lifts the mask to reveal his face. It is Orzo39 from the Monty Reigns show and he is smiling from ear to ear. “Orzo was a genius and Michael was the last person to see him alive…it must be a great honor! We love you!” Orzo39 beams at Michael.
    Michael’s brow furrows, his anger overpowering the memories. He steps forward to get face to face with Orzo 39. “Honor? It’s an honor