"Guitar, stage left, go."

My name is Jei Evans.

"Gimme some more, Guitar left."

I am twenty-two years old.

"Alright, fabulous. Guitar right, please."

It is July 12th, 2009.

"Drums, go."

My birthday.

"Can you bring my snare up more?"

I am in Liverpool, England.

"Cool, bass now, please."

This is the exercise my therapist taught me to handle my anxiety.

"Bass."

And I am okay.

"Bass?"

And I am okay.

"BASS. YO."

And I am--

"BASS. JEI EVANS, BASS?"

"SHIT, uh, I'm sorry man, uh..."

And just like that, I snap back to reality. Startled, I start pounding out the 'Roundabout' bass line as hard as I can. It's nowhere in our setlist, or even close to our genre, but it's what my father always listened to when I was growing up, and the song he said I'd never be able to play.

"Great, thank you Jei. How are your levels?"

That's the sound guy. His name is.... Kyle...? Or something. I don't know. There's a thousand of them and most of them are tools who think they're the stars.

"They're good, thanks. Nailed it, dude."

"I think that's it, everyone else good?"

My bandmates respond one-by-one. First is Kev Slaley, our singer and frontman extraordinaire; too humble for his own good but doesn't show it when he's on stage. Short like me, skinny as a rail like me, swoopy hair like me, but his ass is waaaay better than mine (and my hair is purple, making it better my default, but who's keeping score?)

Rai Stevens calls back next, our crazy rhythm guitarist and my best friend. He stands a bit taller than me but one look at his arms will tell you what kind of weight class he's in. He'll carry me around on stage as a gag when the moment feels right and if the fans are into it. There's a lot of fanfiction about us.

Offering only a chuff through his monitor is Mikey Gibson, our lead guitarist. Not that "Gibson", but damned if he doesn't claim to be of the dynasty, and his backline would certainly have you fooled. I'm surprised he's able to be... minorly 'rounder' than us with all the heavy vintage shit he plays almost exclusively. I guess when you have the label and sponsor money to make it happen, anything is possible.

"HELL yeah! Let's DO this!"

Ah yes, the moment I've been waiting for; Thomas "Thor" Darron, drummer-god wizard of thunder. Shatterer of cymbals and splitter of sticks. This guy is a damn teddy bear but will destroy anyone who looks at me the wrong way. Six foot one of bear-y goodness.

Together, we are Fight The Good Fight, an emo, pop-punk, whatevercore band from Dayton, OH; the place where we all were born, raised, and left as soon as possible. We were signed to Equilibrium Records right out of high school and put on the road right after graduation. We've got two albums, some singles, a music video or two, a killer Myspace, and a diehard fan base that pays my bills and scares the hell out of me at the same time. Don't get me wrong, I love every single one of them, but if they knew what I was, my career would be over before we even got to the "Greatest Hits" stage of fame.

We file off the stage, making room for the openers to do their soundcheck as a large, warm hand gently grips my shoulder from behind. I flinch and get ready to swing around with the force of a damn comet when a familiar voice soothes my nerves.

"Hey, easy there. slugger! What's got you so tense?"

Oh thank goodness, it's just Kent, the best bass tech, roadie, and big brother I could have asked for. With the rest of the band out of sight, I allow myself to rest my head against his pecs and take a deep breath.

"Kent.... bro.... ughhhhh..."

"Yeah? Tell me more."

"KENT. UGHHHHH."

"That bad, huh? Wow, rough day, kiddo."

God, I love this boy. Six-four, 250 pounds of muscle, 27, beautiful dark Italian complexion, soft hair (don't ask me how I know… Lord…) AND, if my sources are correct, bi. I'm gay, myself, but there's no chance anyone other than Rai is going to be informed of that for a long while. Not at least until gay marriage is legalized in the States, which probably won't happen for a while considering Don't Ask Don't Tell is still sitting on Capitol Hill right now...

But, should that day come, Kent is going to be first on the list of people I tell, because this is a guy I cannot pass up on. He's been with us from the very start and will hopefully be sticking around until the very last tour. He's been an absolute mentor to me every step of the way, being a bassist from a punk band from Cleveland for a while when I was still in high school. I actually got a chance to see him play when they came through Dayton! He was the guy that inspired me to start playing and is largely the reason why I'm here today. Even though his band never took off, I'm glad I can help him travel the world through music now.

Grabbing my Fender by the neck, he slides it off my shoulders and stows it on my rack with the rest of my gear before ruffling my hair and walking with me back to the green room. It's stuff like this that makes me curse my anxiety. What I wouldn’t give to be able to just talk about my feelings with him... Rai has been up my ass for a month now, pushing me to make the first move. His words are echoing in my head even now...

"Jei, dude, just talk to him! Do it at the beginning of the tour so you two have three months of jet-setting around Europe before we go back home, rest for a while, and then do it all over again! I won't say anything if you two wanna share a bunk!"

I envy his type-A personality and bluntness.

________________________________________________________

"Hey, Jei! Took you long enough, come on, we need to hear how bad the local openers are tonight. I found their Myspace profiles!"

My name is Kent Dimarcio.

"Yeah, sorry guys, my uh... wireless was acting weird."

No, not like the brand of pickups; I'm a Seymour Duncan guy.

"Guys, shut up, they're starting!"

I'm 27, from Chicago, I live with my Ma when I'm home in the States.

"Holy shiiiiit, what is that TONE?"

And I love that scrawny little emo kid like my little brother.

"Ay, cool it boys, not everyone can afford Marshalls like you. Don't wanna be the d-bags no-one wants to book!" I sneer sarcastically.

If only he knew...

I've been with these guys since before they could drink, and I can't begin to say how far they have come as people and as musicians. Jei told me that he saw my old band when we played this seedy Dayton dive-bar not too far from the center of the University's campus. That's where his parents wanted to send him and a few of the other guys were thinking of attending, but obviously, their lives took a different path. I don't think Jei's parents will ever forgive him for not going to college, and I largely had to step in to show him the ropes of 'adulting' myself after they exited his life. Poor kid would have never stood a chance otherwise...

I cracked open a beer, figuring with four hours before their set it would be safe to take the edge off, and shifted my attention to the television across the room where Kev and Thomas were squaring off in a heated Guitar Hero match, with Jei sitting behind enjoying the show. I will always appreciate these kids and how simple their tour rider is. No girls, no expensive liquor, no drugs, just a PlayStation, pizza, a couple beers for the crew, couches to sleep on, and snacks. It’s almost adorable how innocent they are by comparison to their contemporaries in the genre.

The other techs and I worry like we're their damn parents. We're not that much older than the band, but there's so much nasty stuff in their scene... creepy rock stars, coke, free-flowing booze, shady label guys, crazed fans stealing gear... it really makes me appreciate their approach to music. If the worst thing us crew members need to do is make sure they wake up on damn time, then this is the easiest gig of our lives!

It's not just that I'm thankful for though; I'm beyond glad to get to spend so much time with Jei. Technically he is my boss, but he's also a cute little emo twink boy with femmy tendencies (exactly my type). Beyond the external appearance though, he's one of the most soft, gentle, genuine people I've ever met. So caring, so generous, but oh so painfully shy, poor thing. I've fallen for this boy and Rai told me the feeling is mutual, but I honestly think it would be better for him to make the first move. Maybe it's some fatherly instinct in me that wants to see him grow and face his fears, but the flip-side of that impulse makes me want to protect and guide him through life. I'm too young for this...

"CLIFF." I call across the room to Rai's tech, beckoning him over. We go back a loooong way; he's one of the first friends I made when I moved to Cleveland for college. It's fitting Jei and Rai are so close, given the longstanding bromance Cliff and I have going on.

"Sup buddy?" he responds, giving me our signature high-five handshake as he approaches.

In a hushed tone I mutter, "What the hell is that sound up there? What kind of rig are these openers running? Like, I don't want to set a bad example for the boys by gossiping, but shit dude..."

Cliff quickly stifled a harsh snort before covering his mouth before uttering two words.

"Solid States."

"No..." I object.

"Line 6 Spider heads." he shoots back.

"NO."

"Yeah. Not the combos at least?"

I bury my face in my hands and accept my tinny, harsh sounding fate.

"Just four more hours, you can survive this, Kent." Cliff says, patting me on the shoulder on his way back for a second beer.

I dig out my iPod and stuff the headphones in my ears after spending a minute untangling the wires and hit shuffle a couple of times, hoping to drown out the shenanigans going on around me. Four more hours indeed till I get to see my Jei play again...