'Nother Sip of Gin - Rhys Ford Page 0,2

worn the discreet earplugs Johnny tossed at him at the beginning of every show, but they dampened the sound of the crowd, and Miki wanted to hear every damned last bit of applause and every shrieking cheer.

Because he would never play that stage again. Or at least he would never have that first time ever again, and he wanted to bathe in the furious glee of the audience singing back at him and dancing to their songs.

The buzz was so fucking worth it.

Damien found a driver to take them, mostly by bribing the hotel’s concierge to find someone who would bring them to the depths of Tokyo’s underground after the band’s chauffeur refused. The car was dinky and battered, but the young Japanese man who’d popped out of the driver’s side door had been delighted to meet them, asking for their autographs while holding up a bootleg CD of their first album. They’d thankfully signed it, and Damien asked one of the bellhops to grab their driver a band shirt from their storage area, sealing their friendship with the improbably named Stan.

“Maru Tattoos?” Stan said in a heavily accented English when Damien showed him the address he’d gotten over the phone. “You are going to get a tattoo? Here?”

“That’s the plan,” Damien responded. “I’m supposed to be there in an hour. Think we can make it?”

“I can get you there,” Stan promised. “Hard to park in the area, but I will find a space after dropping you off and wait. You call when you’re done. I’ll give you my phone number.”

“It’s going to be hours,” the guitarist warned. “I don’t even know if it’s going to get finished today. It’s a back piece.”

“Then I will come to the place, and if you need something, I will get it.” Stan pulled into an insane stream of traffic, waving his arm out the open window as he merged. “You will need lots of caffeine. It will help with the pain.”

“Well, I was kinda hoping for whiskey,” Damien muttered across the back seat to Miki. “But I guess coffee is the next best thing.”

Stan hadn’t been joking. The streets got smaller and smaller until even the wee speck of a black car had a difficult time weaving in and out of the tight turns. They pulled up to what looked like a sidewalk and turned right, narrowly avoiding a placard with a dancing duck holding a pair of chopsticks on it. Miki grabbed at the strap dangling next to the window, gulping when it came off in his hand. Damien merely laughed, then hooked his arm around Miki’s waist, holding on tightly while Stan made another insane turn. They drove down into the narrow dark alleys for a dizzying twenty minutes, the car came to an abrupt screeching halt, and Stan twisted around, grinning maniacally.

“Can’t drive more. Too tight.” Stan punched a finger forward, pointing down a walkway to the left. “See the red sign with the circle on it? That is Maru. You go there and I will come find you. You want coffee? Iced? I’ll bring some ika too. You will want something to eat.”

“That’s cuttlefish,” Miki muttered to Damien under his breath.

“Did I like it?” Damien whispered back.

“I do. But I liked the hot one better.” Miki dug into his pocket and came up with a handful of yen. “Can you get the spicy one? Or the rolled sweet one? Those are good.”

“Can do.” Stan grabbed the money. “I’ll come find you.”

A few moments later, Damien and Miki stood under a dimly lit array of paper lanterns, watching Stan’s little car zoom away, screeching around a corner and disappearing from view. Clearing his throat, Damien chuckled, nudging Miki in the ribs with his elbow.

“Think we’ll ever see him again?” he asked through a laugh.

“God, I fucking hope so. Because if not, we’re going to have to call up Edie and beg her to send someone to come out and get us,” Miki grumbled. “And she does not like getting those kind of phone calls. Remember what she did to Dave when he got caught in that manatee tank in Florida?”

“Dude, I think that had more to do with the manatee tank then the call coming in at three in the morning,” Damien replied. “But yeah, she was not happy. Well, hopefully Stan comes back, and if not, we’ll just find someplace to drink. It’s almost ten right now; maybe we won’t even be done until breakfast time and it’ll be

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