Chapter 2: Part 1a: Tyler
Off-stage, Tyler does not pause to listen to the audience's reaction. No encore on Earth could live up to that performance. Regardless of any comments by roadies or management, Tyler heads for the area reserved for VIPs/bands - specifically the most intoxicated/influenced section of said VIP lounge, and makes his presence felt to the collective inebriated conciousness with an impromptu display of Cossack dancing. "Call me Tyler, and give me a drink..."
The startled roadies and semi conscious band members part for Tyler with what can only be described as reverent respect. All eyes are upon him as he accosts the barman. It appears that the corporeal sounds on stage carried back this far, and had an effect here too.
Tyler waits for the rest of the world to catch up, drinking to fit in rather than to get drunk. He interjects loud non sequiturs ("I DON'T LIKE CHEESE - I THINK YOU DON'T EITHER, EH?") in various directions, simply as an excuse to watch for the inevitable approaches of groupies, friends and...others.
The weirdness of his pronouncements produces an effect, wether it be the desired one or not. People either try to be cool and go back to their business, or continue to stare at Tyler in amazement.
At the main entrance to the tent, Tyler can hear some raised voices that seem to be arguing about wether or not they can get into the VIP area. It seems that the bouncers are having their work cut out for them at the moment, something of a crowd wants in to the back stage area.
A few minutes pass, before Kyle (the synth player for ES) bursts into the bar, fire in his eyes, and Saul (the lead singer) follows shortly after him, clearly having failed to hold the other man back. Kyle scans the bar once, before making a bee line for Tyler.
He marches up to the overcoated figure and points his finger in Tyler's face. "What." He takes a breath. "The F@CK." He breathes in again. "Was THAT?" He finishes, waving his finger left to right from one of Tyler's eyes to the other.
Saul eyes Tyler apologetically with something akin to fear holding him back from awe at the moment. Many ears are pricked in the area around, listening to this exchange.
Outside the noise of the crowd outside the back stage area goes up a notch, but over the din can be heard Rudy's voice. "This is the best gig ever! You people rule! I wanna have sex with all of you!" The bouncer's job appears to have just gotten more difficult.
Tyler
meets Kyle's gaze, momentarily playing along by following the moving finger
with his eyes. His gaze intensifies, focusing on Kyle's angered expression. He
exhales softly, aware of the attention turning his way.
"I left some people's names at the door for the gig, man...one or two old
acquaintances, and some people who were keen on us from interviews. Nothing
unusual about that, eh?" says Tyler, ending on a faintly hopeful tone
before gauging that more needs to be said. "OK, so one of them used to
sing a bit and felt like joining in...I thought it worked. It was...tasteful.
Yeah, that's it. Tasteful. Not like those losers you invited on stage in St
Petersburg - the ones with the tinfoil helmets and the night-vision goggles.
That was just weird, and pathetic. But this," he speads his arms wide (a
little too wide, accidentally cuffing a fascinated groupie in the head),
"...worked."
"Those people out there are buzzing, and for once it's not just the drugs
doing that. It's something we created, just doing what we do. It was a
memorable show, we can move on and think about what we're gonna do next. And
you know it's gonna be good, whatever it is, am I right?" Tyler finishes
his speech with enthusiasm to get the audience involved and try to shut Kyle's
anger down, while glancing around to see if any of the acquaintances have appeared.
Tyler picks up a faint symphonic sound in the
distance, like the tickling of violin strings while a whole orchestra is in
overture. Tyler can only sense that the source of it was assuming celestial
form and nothing more.