Jacob: Is that so?
Dawn: Uh huh. I was wondering how you manage keeping the boys in Hybrid alive and well.
Jacob: I’m keeping them alive, for now, I suppose. Keeping them well…that’s another story.
Dawn: It must be challenging to let them have their freedom without compromising their performance.
Jacob: As a tour manager, your first job is to manage. If that means I have to find them the prettiest trollops in arse-crack Minnesota in order to keep them in line, then that’s what I’m going to do. If keeping them obedient means letting them snort a kilo of coke up their nose every now and then, then that’s fine with The Cobb. Managing is about keeping the balance. I keep the balance.
Dawn: You keep the balance? Care you elaborate on that?
Jacob: Now you’re just being nosy.
Dawn: I’m a journalist. It’s my job. Just as it’s your job to be evasive.
Jacob: Right. Well, every band, whether it’s Hybrid, Wishbone Ash or someone else, they all have a tendency to over indulge in the bad and ignore the good. It sounds like simple math and it is…I just know that you have to have equal amounts of good and bad in order to keep a band alive. Or, at least successful.
Dawn: So Robbie can go bang the chick around the corner as long as it doesn’t interfere with his singing the next day.
Jacob: Exactly. There’s nothing wrong with them gang-banging groupies in a bathtub full of baked beans if it helps their performance.
Dawn: Hold on…who gang-banged groupies in a bathtub full of baked beans?
Jacob: A good manager never tells. Now if you’ll pardon me, I’ve got some managing to do.
Dawn: Wait, one last thing. Throughout the tour I’ve noticed a sense of urgency and despair from Sage Knightly. He’s yet to open up to me in any way and definitely avoids my many attempts at an interview…I was wondering if you could shed some light on that.
Jacob: Sage? Sage has some issues he’s working on. They aren’t really mine to comment on.
Dawn: What kind of issues? I know that the last album was almost entirely influenced by him and wasn’t perceived as well as the others. Does he feel like he’s let the band down or does he feel like the band is holding him back?
Jacob: I guess you could say both. I wouldn’t go about getting your expectations high about him, though. Sage is always the quiet, mysterious guitarist and that’s the role he’ll play to the bitter end.
Dawn: Who says the end has to be bitter?
Jacob: Welcome to rock and roll, Dawn.
Target—A Dex & Perry Story
There’s nothing like waking up to having your toes licked. In fact, when done by the right pair of lips, it’s just as good as having your morning wood primed and pumped. Unfortunately, I knew my toes weren’t being licked by the girl in the room next door. It was the damn fucking dog. Again.
“Fuck off,” I mumbled into my pillow and shook my foot. Fat Rabbit had been sleeping with Perry for the last few nights, so my morning-addled brain couldn’t figure out why the bastard was in here anyway, munching away on my toes like they were doggy popsicles.
Then I heard a supressed giggle.
I slowly raised my head and looked over at the door. Perry was staring there like some heavenly wet dream. I mean, she was wet. Her hair was cascading down her face like inky trails, beads of water glistening on her shoulders and collarbones as she clutched my tiny towel to her chest. I’d never been so happy to have such woefully undersized towels in my life. It turns out she didn’t feel the same way.
“Dex,” she said, eying me with impatience, as if the fact that I was still in bed at 10a.m. was just the tip of the iceberg. “You need new towels.”
I sat up, not caring how close I was to being fully exposed by my duvet cover. Two could play at this barely concealing ourselves game and from the way her eyes were fighting to stay at my face and not drift down to the poke-your-eye-out zone, we were evenly matched.
“My towels are just fine,” I told her as Fat Rabbit made a futile attempt to jump on the bed. “Is this your not-so subtle attempt to seduce me, because I have to say it’s working.”
She rolled her eyes and tried to tighten the towel around her chest. Her chest argued back. “I can seduce you just by tying my shoes.”
“It’s because when you’re bending over, I get a great view no matter where I am,” I said with a wag of my eyebrow. Man, I loved annoying her.
Her eyes narrowed briefly, but I knew she was loving it. At least, I hoped she was. I could never be too sure these days, especially since I was still in the proverbial dog house. I guess it was fitting that Fatty Rab was in the same room as me, farting up a storm.
“Look,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. Oh, I was looking. “I’ve been living here for long enough and if I’m seriously going to be your roommate for the next little while, I have to make my influence felt.”
I had to admit, it stung a bit when she emphasised “little while.” There was nothing I wanted more than to Perry to just put her roots down here, in this apartment with me, where she belonged. But it seemed like less and less of a possibility as the days went on. My attempts to win her over, to win her back, were shoved away by whatever damage I had inflicted on her heart.
“Okay,” I said and decided to get serious. I pulled up the blanket around my waist and looked at her straight-on. “You know I’ll do whatever you want to make you more comfortable here. Is it just the towels?”
A small
