We pulled into Denver during the last rays of sunlight, and Chuck wandered over to the waiting fans for his special kind of entertainment. The rest of us went to the arena so Gabe could check out the space. Buck wandered through the seats while River, Gabe, and I went up on the stage. As we returned to the bus, Vaughan pulled Buck aside. "There's someone waiting for you."

Buck arched an eyebrow and folded his arms. "Who?"

"She says she's your wife. Jason told me to let her in, but I thought you should know." Buck dropped his head and groaned, clearly unhappy to see Danielle. This was the woman who broke his heart and was widely believed to have killed the band. And although I doubted she was wholly responsible for the band's demise, I still wasn't her biggest fan.

Then I realized something-I actually wanted to meet her. After all, I was here on the bus with the Fiery Boys, and Danielle was an essential element of this band. I might not be going home with any sexual conquests in my pocket, but I was collecting some incredible stories. Why not meet Danielle?

Reluctant to push myself into her face too quickly, I let the others board, then I waited a few minutes before climbing up. Danielle sat at the living room table next to Gabe, chatting and passing a joint between them. She looked exactly as she had ten years ago, cute and trim, with a full head of curly blonde hair. Chuck, River, and Buck were gone, probably hiding in their cubicles. I wondered if bad-tempered Buck had said anything to her.

When she saw me, Danielle smiled. "So you're the contest winner." She gave me an appraising once-over, nodding with what seemed like approval. Then she patted the seat next to her, so I sat down. "Are you enjoying tour hell?" I figured she should know.

Gabe sent the joint back to her, and she took a puff before offering to it me. Although I'd avoided getting high with Gabe up to this point, nothing was the same anymore. A little extra fun wouldn't be so bad. So I took a drag and got high with the closeted guitarist and the reclusive bass player's wife. Yeah, that sounded about right.

Danielle leaned close and whispered, "Heard you fucked Chuck." She gave me a throaty laugh, and I couldn't help but join in.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I haven't?"

Gabe finished the joint and left its remains in the ashtray. He leaned back with his eyes closed. Either he was more blissed out than normal, or, more likely, he was enjoying eavesdropping on this conversation. Danielle leaned closer to me and smiled. "According to the web, you got Chuck's name tattooed on your breast."




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