One Last Verse

by N. N. Britt

His helplessness crept through the air between the three of us.

  I didn’t have the right to speak. This was their fight. Instead, I squeezed Frank’s hand. A reminder that today, he’d been given the benefit of the doubt and now it was his turn to give.

  He cleared his throat and stared at Dante. “You want to try? It’s an acoustic set.”

  “I thought you’d flaked out on us again!” Isabella shouted as guards ushered us into the dressing room. “We’re ten minutes behind.” She stared at Dante with frazzled eyes.

  “¿Cómo estas, mija?” Dante jerked his chin and gave everyone in the room a once-over.

  Andy and Kit looked mildly shocked. Story kept blinking.

  “Thank God!” Maria cried out.

  “You up for doing a Hall Affinity cover, Izzy?” Frank wrestled off his jacket.

  “I thought we weren’t doing any covers?” Her gaze flicked over to Dante. “Didn’t you just quit the band, dude?”

  “I did.” He nodded.

  “So is this like a mini-reunion?” Andy perked up.

  “I guess you could say that.” Frank grinned.

  “We don’t have time for this, guys!” Brooklyn flung her hands in the air and pointed at him. “You need to follow me.” She turned to Dante. “I don’t know what to do with you, so talk to Cassy.”

  My brain went into high gear. I pulled out my phone and shot out a quick group text to Ashton and Levi. Livestream. This was an unexpected turn of events. Six hours ago, I had no idea Frank would be here tonight to perform with Isabella. Now Dante was here too and the three of them were going to improvise.

  I took a spot at the side of the stage, trying to stay out of the way and let the crew get everyone ready. Levi seemed to enjoy the spotlight. He stretched his neck and rehearsed his speech. Frank stood next to the small opening between the curtains and peeked at the audience. The entire theater, quiet and at a standstill, was waiting.

  I heard a swarm of whispers when the lights finally dimmed. Isabella spun her chair to face me and I gave her a thumbs-up.

  She patted her knees and grinned. “Heard that break-a-leg saying?”

  I bit back my smile.

  “They better make me into a fucking meme after we hit Billboard’s top hundred.”

  Levi squeezed his way onto the stage and marched over to the microphone. Noise rolled through the crowd.

  “You’re good for him,” Dante’s voice said near my ear.

  I turned my head to look at him. Up close, he appeared worn out. “Are you okay?” I asked, studying the faint traces of damage that lined his face.

  “I’m good.”

  “Are you getting help?”

  He nodded.

  “You’ll tell me if you need anything, right?” I didn’t know why I said that, but I needed to make sure I let it out into the universe. In a sick way, I was worried about him.

  “You can’t keep trying to save everyone, darlin’,” he said with a smile. “Just save the ones who matter.” His gaze jumped over to Frank.

  Thunderous applause wiped out the questions that swelled in my head. Isabella and the band took the stage next. When she reached the microphone, the auditorium went still. It was the strangest kind of silence. The calm that usually came before the storm, and the name of that storm was Frankie Blade. At least to those who’d gathered here tonight for an evening of music. To me, he was Frank Wallace. The man I loved.

  The rumble of clapping hands and whistles swallowed me and my thoughts entirely when he finally walked out on stage. Story ran through a chord, and I recognized one of the original songs.

  “I think you’ve probably noticed we had a little change of plans tonight,” Frank said, adjusting the microphone.

  The audience laughed.

  “We wanted to surprise everyone,” he continued. “Guess what? I’ve got a friend of mine hiding backstage right now. He plays a guitar, so we thought…”

  I couldn’t make out the rest of the words. The noise inside the auditorium was hell on earth as Dante strode across the stage, waving at the crowd and smiling. A guitar was placed over his neck. Watching the three of them together was something out of this world. In a way, they were all beaten and broken by whatever life had thrown at them, but the music they made was just the opposite—healing and powerful, and I could feel each note, each pitch, and each harmony in my bones as the melody saturated the cool air with its rebellious bliss.

  Stunned, I held my breath for what seemed like an eternity. It was only hours later when we were finally ready to leave that I could finally let the cool air settle into my lungs.

  Frank and I were standing outside, near the idling truck that the crew was loading with gear, when he asked, “Do you want to go for a ride?”

  “Sure.”

  I didn’t know where the limo was taking us, nor did I care. The streets we passed were peaceful and void of nightlife, just what I needed after endless minutes of shaking hands, smiling, and occasional mini-panic attacks in the restroom.

  Remnants of adrenaline still rushed through my blood, but the high of the accomplishment had dissipated. I was crashing. And I was crashing hard. My emotions were like apples, pears, and celery sticks tossed into a blender. A juice cocktail the taste of which one wasn’t able to tell anymore. Too many ingredients.

  Frank stayed quiet. A light touch of exhaustion clouded his eyes. I could almost see it taking shape in the slack of his jaw, the flutter of his lashes, and the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath his layers of clothes. Tonight wasn’t easy for him. He hid his fears well, better than most, but I felt them. I recognized them in his every word and his every move.

  Spent and wrapped in the purr of the engine, we sat next to each other. Thigh to thigh. Dangerously close yet not close enough. The invisible line of unuttered questions that separated us grew thinner. Our hands lay on my lap, locked together. The privacy screen was up and no music played.

  I broke the silence first, needing to express some of the things that raced through my mind. “You did the right thing.” My eyes swept over the elegant shape of his face, admiring. “For Dante.”

  “Everyone deserves a second chance.” Frank chuckled softly. “Or a hundred and second in his case.”

  “I really do think he means well. He just doesn’t know the right way to do it.”

  “You did notice”—Frank dropped his voice to a whisper as if he was about to say a blasphemous thing—“he fucked up an acoustic solo.”

  “The crowd didn’t care.” I pulled out my phone and checked the livestream stats Levi had messaged me a while ago. “We hit over a hundred thousand views.”

  Frank took a deep, controlled breath and stared at the empty space in front of him. “He won’t be able to keep this a secret unless he doesn’t plan on picking up a guitar at all.”

  “You’re worried about him.” Biting back a smile, I spun to see him better and studied his expression.

  “In all of the twenty years I’ve known Dante, he’s never actually apologized for anything. Not even for…” His words faltered and remained unsaid. He shifted and rolled his shoulder. “Actually, I don’t think it matters anymore.” His gaze returned to me. “I think maybe he did me a solid by fucking my ex-wife.”

  “Is that so?” An inaudible laugh escaped my lungs.

  “Yes.” Frank’s hand reached for my cheek to cup it. “I met you, doll.”

  Blood surged to my cheeks. But I wasn’t blushing. I was burning. The entire world felt like it’d been lit on fire. “You were amazing today. It takes courage to do what you did for Isabella and for Dante.”

  “You never cease to amaze me, Cassy Evans.” A tired smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “You want to know what I like about you the most?”

  “Enlighten me.” I slipped my hand in his hair and raked my fingers through its thickness.

  “Your goodness,” he whispered, his lips near my ear. “Wanting to make this shitty world we live in a better place without asking for anything
in return.”

  My heart pounded. “Not quite accurate.” I brought my face to meet his. Our soft breaths mingled between our mouths and the gap separating us was suddenly filled with invisible energy. Supercharged. “I do want something in return.”

  His brow arched in silent question.

  “You,” I said. “And some sleep.”

  “You have me, doll. I’m here.” He paused. A twinkle lit his eyes. “I can’t guarantee any sleep just yet.”

  “What can you guarantee, Frank?” I brushed my lips against his.

  “I can guarantee an orgasm,” he teased back.

  “You think the promise of an orgasm is going to get you in my good graces?”

  “I hope so.”

  He was smiling. My eyes were closed and I didn’t see it, but I felt it in the slight lilt of his voice. His hands slipped down the curves of my body, slowly and carefully. A deft touch. A prelude. I shifted and pressed my body to his.

  “You’re still on probation, Frank Wallace,” I murmured.

  “As long as I have to report to you.”

  We drove in silence for a while longer, until the limo began a slow climb through a dark Hollywood Hills neighborhood.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, staring out at the sparsely spaced houses we passed on the way up.

  “Just wanted to show you something.”

  “Didn’t you take me here once before?”

  “Yes, I did.” He nodded.

  A few minutes later, the limo came to a stop in front of a vaguely familiar property sitting near the cliff overlooking the city.

  “This was our second dinner date spot,” I gasped, stepping outside. The house had been finished and gated.

  “Yes.” Frank slid from the car, grabbed my hand, and drew me toward the property. “It’s where I kissed you for the first time.”

  “Are you sure it’s okay we’re here? I don’t want to be arrested for trespassing.”

  “It’s totally fine.” Laughing, he punched in a code and the gate lock clicked open. “The place is mine.”

  Shocked, I tripped over my own feet, but Frank grabbed me before I fell.

  “I bought the property a few months ago.”

  “What for?”

  He shrugged. “Sentimental value. This was the site of our first kiss.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Come on.” He pushed the gate open and led me inside.

  We walked down the stone path to the opposite side of the house. The bench was still there and the city still shone bright.

  “What are we really doing here, Frank?” I looked up at him, my heart thundering.

  “I want to start over, Cassy,” he said, moving closer. His voice was sweet and low with a lick of fear. Was he afraid of rejection? “Clean slate?”

  “I don’t know if clean slate is possible. You’re aware we’re a GIF?”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “You hurt me.”

  “And I’m sorry.”

  “Multiple times.”

  “I did.”

  “You broke your promises. Multiple times too.”

  “Guilty.” He pulled me into his arms. “But I’ve had some time to reflect on things, and I know where I’m going now and I want you to go with me.”

  Everything about him at that moment, the impressive breadth of his chest, the silky touch of his hair, the faint scent of his cologne, felt right. Felt wonderful.

  My heart squeezed. I pulled back and gazed up at him through a curtain of tears. “We can give it a shot, but I’m not moving in with you tomorrow.”

  “No, not tomorrow.” He smiled. “Maybe next week?”

  “You really like to rush into things, don’t you?” I bit my lip and trailed the line of his jaw with my index finger.

  “I can’t help it. I don’t want you going around and kissing random guys.” A playful glint in his eyes told me he didn’t plan on holding a grudge against me for my unsuccessful attempt to move on.

  I grinned and ran my palms down his chest, needing to touch him, needing to feel his heartbeat, needing to know he was okay. “Hi. I’m Cassy. I interview rock stars and produce documentaries. What’s your superpower?”

  “Hi, Cassy. I’m Frank. I write music and set off metal detectors in airports.”

  There were no words, no warnings, and no explanations. There was only me and him and the raw cadence of our lips. The velocity of our gasps. The gentle flicks of our tongues. A covert, slightly indecent kiss with no hands and no hugs. Just our mouths and our pulses connected, driven by a maddening rhythm.

  “Now you have enough for an anthology, doll,” he whispered as we pulled apart to catch our breath.

  Epilogue

  Dreamcatchers (film)

  From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

  * * *

  Dreamcatchers is a 2019 American documentary film directed and produced by Levi Bernstein and co-produced by Cassandra Evans. The film follows the story of a nineteen-year-old singer from Northern California, Isabella Solana, whose debut record contract was terminated by the label after a car accident that resulted in a spinal cord injury left her paralyzed from the waist down.

  Dreamcatchers offers an unfiltered look at the state of the modern music business and features a number of notable guest speakers, including ex-front man of the two-time Grammy winner band Hall Affinity, Frankie Blade.

  Background

  The idea of doing a documentary came to Bernstein after seeing Solana perform with her band in a nightclub in Hollywood. Both Bernstein and Evans, who co-own Los Angeles-based music magazine Rewired, were impressed with Solana’s voice and approached her mother/manager about a possible collaboration.

  The film was produced on a limited budget through a number of donations. Bernstein, who graduated from UCLA with a Bachelor of Arts in Film and Television, shot and edited the film himself and with the help of several college friends and Evans’ younger brother. More than 300 hours of raw footage featuring rehearsals, studio recordings, interviews, and live performances was captured. Originally designed as an attempt to attract the attention of other labels and potential sponsors to help Solana finance and record her debut album, the film changed its direction upon the involvement of Frankie Blade. Blade’s initial interest in the project was originally credited to his assistant, who came across Solana’s cover of a Hall Affinity song via Twitter, but later, the singer himself confirmed that it was Evans’ idea. Sources close to the rock singer confirmed that he and Evans had been in a secret relationship long before Blade decided to collaborate with Solana and it was her idea.

  In January 2020, Blade’s publicist issued an announcement that Blade and Solana were recording a duet and industry veteran Gary Torino was producing and mixing the single. Burdened by legal issues, health problems, and the depression that his recent stage incident and firing from the band had caused, Blade unexpectedly exited the project.

  Solana recorded “Afterburn” without Blade and all footage of Blade was scrapped from the film. Several weeks later, Blade appeared intoxicated at his band’s latest album release party. His outburst, filmed by a number of attendees and press present at the event, was leaked online and was harshly criticized by fans and other artists.

  The following day, Blade’s PR representative issued a statement with an apology. Blade checked himself into a rehabilitation center and several weeks later reached out to Bernstein and Solana to record new footage.

  Release

  Dreamcatchers was screened on April 25, 2020 at Melrose Cinema in Los Angeles. It had a limited theatrical run and is scheduled to be released digitally and on DVD in October 2020.

  Reception

  The film received favorable reviews from critics and audiences. Adam McGraw from The Washington Post commended Bernstein and Evans for their creativity and their attempt to tackle a difficult subject most would shy away from.

  Libby Thornton from BlackBook called Dreamcatcher “an honest and probably one of
the most important documentaries about the music business that has been made in the past twenty years.”

  Charles Corbin, who writes for Film Nation, described Dreamcatchers as a “fascinating work of art that gives an outsider a frank yet not always pretty look at what’s going on behind closed doors.” He particularly praised Blade for his courage to come forward and closely examine substance and alcohol abuse among touring artists and the reasons behind it.

  Isabella Solana released her debut album South, Wait for Me on August 3, 2020. It charted at number 27 on the Billboard 200 and sold over 20,000 copies in its first week of release. Solana is Spotify’s most streamed artist of 2020.

  In September 2020, a source close to Solana confirmed that she and Frankie Blade are working on a new project.

  THE END…OR NOT QUITE.

  * * *

  If you want to get a little glance into Cassy and Frank’s future from Frank’s point of view, you can snag a bonus scene here.

  Thank you so so much for reading. If you have a spare minute, please consider leaving an honest review. It would mean a lot to me.

  * * *

  XOXO

  About the Author

  N. N. Britt is a Los Angeles-based music journalist and photographer whose photos have graced CD covers, promotional posters, t-shirts, and billboards. When she is not writing or drinking coffee, she is probably reading or attending a heavy metal show.

  * * *

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  Also by N. N. Britt

  SEVERANCE

  * * *

  They say first love doesn’t last.