The Bad Boys Of Molly Riot: The Complete Hard Rock Star Series

by Jade Allen

  “I think he’s probably got deeper issues than he wants to talk about, but that doesn’t excuse what he’s doing,” Alex said, sounding a lot like his counselor girlfriend. God save me from psychobabbling good influences, I thought to myself. Alex was happy; that much was obvious. But I didn’t like the Boy Scout version of himself he’d started to become.

  “I told him he was being an asshole about something petty, and he cut me off after that,” Nick admitted. I glanced at Jules.

  “I don’t really give a fuck why he’s being such a little shit,” Jules said with a shrug. He stood and plucked a piece of pizza out of one of the boxes. “If we can find a way to move this fucking album forward, we can deal with whatever else afterward.”

  “I don’t know if we’re going to be able to move this album forward until we deal with whatever-the-fuck Mark’s problem is,” Alex countered.

  “I propose we get Ron to talk him into doing sessions,” Nick said. He raised his hands up to keep Jules and Alex from talking over him. “If his main beef is with Dan, we’ll separate them. Mark can work a few hours during the day, lay a few tracks, get his shit done, and Dan can come in after he leaves. Or they can take turns or something.”

  “But he’s pissed at all of us,” Alex pointed out.

  “Dan’s the only one he’s got a concrete reason to be pissed at,” Nick countered. “Since he hasn’t exactly come clean about whatever it is he’s got against the rest of us, either he tells Ron about it and we negotiate further, or he sucks it the fuck up and gets to work.”

  “It’s not going to work on tour,” Alex insisted.

  “Worry about the tour when we fucking have the album done,” Jules told him. I nodded my agreement.

  “As long as we can get some fucking work done, and we’re not just sitting around waiting for Mark to be finished sulking, we’ve won half the battle,” I said. I took a deep breath. “Do you guys really think all this bullshit is just because I’m dating some girl he decided he liked?” Jules and Alex looked at me. Nick drank his beer without showing any signs of concern or guilt.

  “Of course not,” Alex said after a moment. “He wouldn’t throw a tantrum this epic over that. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Whatever the reason, we’ll drag it out of him,” Jules said. I didn’t let it show on my face, but I was relieved; deep down I’d been worried that the rest of the members of the band blamed me for the possibility that we’d soon be over and done.

  “Besides,” Nick said, rising to get his share of the pizza, “it’s not like we can tell you who to date or not date. That shit’s fucked.” He sat down again and took a bite.

  “So, we’re going to get Ron to convince him to go into the studio and work, but he and I are going to have to take it in shifts?” I looked around the room.

  “That sounds about like the only thing we can do,” Alex said after a few moments. “I mean, we could stake out his fucking house, but what the hell would that prove? What would it do? He’d either avoid us and we’d be sitting there in a hot car all day, or he’d be pissed we were stalking him, or something like that.”

  “Tell Ron to get to him through his sister,” Jules suggested. “Katie can make her brother see reason when the rest of the world can’t.”

  “Maybe we should have met with her first,” I said blandly. I knew all about Katie; after all, I was better friends with Mark than just about anyone else in the band. We all loved each other, but there were certain sub-friendships: Mark and I had been close until the thing with Sophie, while Jules and Alex were like peas in a pod. Nick had never been too tied to anyone else, but since Mark had started being an ass, I’d found myself talking to him more often.

  “Let’s set it to start in two days,” Alex suggested. “Give some time to get back in the mode.”

  “I’m game,” I said; everyone had been looking at me, and I realized they were waiting for me to either fully agree to the plan or be an ass because Mark was involved. “If he needs me to not be there, then it’s whatever, you know?” The rest of the guys slowly nodded.

  “We’ll have to have meetings with both of you there--think you can handle it without pissing him off more?” Nick smirked at me, and I rolled my eyes at him.

  “We’re both fucking professionals. We’ll figure it out. Once he’s in front of Ron he won’t be all that interested in being a bitchy little fuck, anyway.” I shook my head. The truth was that I was shocked--more than the other guys--a how hard Mark seemed to have taken everything going on in the band. He always seemed like the easy-going type, but he was proof that drummers were just as capable of petty, bullshit drama as anyone else in a band.

  “We need to get with Jack, too,” Alex said. Jules nodded.

  “Jack will be able to keep everything where it needs to be going,” Jules agreed. “And he’ll make sure that Mark can’t pull out any stupid, dumb-shit drama while he’s working.”

  “All hail Jack,” I said dryly. I didn’t like the solution to the problem in front of us, but the other guys were right that it was the best one. Mark didn’t want to work with me--that much was obvious. But we had decided to work on the live recordings first. Now that he was throwing such a hissy fit, we were going to have to completely reverse the schedule--and that was assuming we ever got to the point where Mark and I could be in the same room without him getting shitty.

  “Let’s finish this pizza and the beers,” Nick suggested. “And we’ll talk about other bullshit that doesn’t need to be going on in our lives.”

  “Amen to that,” I said, finishing off my beer. “I’m already tired of the melodrama we’ve got going on right now.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “You’re serious that you want to bring Sophie into the studio?” I shrugged off Nick’s question.

  “Why shouldn’t I?” I took a hit from the pipe Nick handed me; we’d decided to take a break outside, in the little courtyard behind the studio. It had been a month since we’d started over on the album, with Mark, Alex, and Jules working together with Jack during the day and Nick, Jules and me working nights. “She has the night off at Respects, and she wanted to see the studio.

  “We’re already struggling to get anything done,” Nick pointed out. He took the pipe from me and lit the bowl.

  “How is that my fault?” I leaned against the stucco wall. “If we could all work together, at the same time, the way we were supposed to, we’d be further along.”

  “Mark is being a bitch, fair enough,” Nick said. He passed me the pipe. “Just don’t want you to be distracted.” I rolled my eyes. I was starting to feel the dope; Nick always got good stuff.

  “You don’t want me to be distracted, but we’re smoking out?” I snickered.

  “We’re smoking out because it helps us get through the night,” Nick told me.

  “Do you have a problem with me bringing Sophie in?” Nick shrugged.

  “Not per se,” he replied. “Mark still isn’t talking about whatever the fuck his issue is.”

  “Word on the street is he’s going through Tinder dates like the world’s about to end,” I said. Nick snorted.

  “Whatever he’s got to prove to himself,” he said, shaking his head. “Anyway, bring her in if you want. Just don’t be surprised if there’s fallout.”

  “What fallout could there be?” I handed the pipe to Nick and he cleaned it out, slipped it into his pocket.

  “If it gets back to Mark,” Nick said.

  “It’s been a fucking month and a half almost,” I said. “How can he still be pulling this shit over her?” I shook my head. “It’s got to be something else.”

  “But what? None of us knows. Until we do…” Nick combed his fingers through his hair.

  “Until we do, we let Mark run shit in the band because he’s being a whiny asshole,” I said irritably. “Instead of actually dealing with whatever the hell his issue is.”

  “Hey--we’re getting the album done. That’s the important thing,” Nick said, raising
his hands helplessly.

  “Yeah, the crumbling structure of the band is just not important at all,” I pointed out sarcastically. “I agreed to do it this way as a short-term answer to Mark being a shit about things. How are we going to promote or tour this album if he can’t deal with me?”

  “So do something about it,” Nick said. He gave me a wry grin. “I mean, it’s slow going anyway. Instead of bringing Sophie in, find a way to get Mark to come to the studio and have it out with him.”

  “Sophie’s already coming by,” I said.

  “Well, if he’s got a problem with you dating her, what better way to get it all out into the open than to get him to confront the two of you together?” Nick patted his pocket, gave me another quick look. “Send Jules and Jack and me home when Mark gets here, and hash out whatever it is you need to hash out.”

  “You’re assuming I can get him to come in,” I countered. “He’s not answering any texts from me.”

  “Or me, or Alex, or Jules,” Nick said. “The only people he’s talking to outside of the studio are Jack, Ron, and his family--and whoever it is he’s hooking up with off Tinder. So figure out what to do to get him in here.”

  “Do you really think it’s going to fix anything? We don’t even know what the hell he’s pissed off about.” Nick laughed.

  “Man, all I know is that I want to keep being a part of this band,” Nick told me. “And the only way I can do that is if the band continues to exist. Stop being a baby and get Mark to talk to you about whatever is up his ass. If you feel like it, set up some cameras. Maybe he’ll throw a punch and we can get a decent video out of it.” I rolled my eyes, and Nick went back into the studio. I sat down at one of the tables and lit a cigarette, thinking of what he’d said. After a month of working as parts of a group instead of a whole, I knew I wasn’t the only one who was starting to feel irritable about the whole mess. But from what Jules, Alex, and Jack had to say about it, Mark did little more than come in, record, and take instructions from Jack. He didn’t chat with anyone, he didn’t offer any explanation for his behavior.

  When Ron had met with him, he’d told us afterwards that Mark had barely been convinced to even continue working at all; though Ron hadn’t been able to get out of our drummer whatever it was that had set him off. Mark had mostly agreed, Ron had told us, because he didn’t want to be kicked out of the band; that was the next move from the label, if the album didn’t move forward. I had to admit to myself that I didn’t want another drummer for the band either: I wanted our own drummer to stop being such a dick.

  Would it really solve anything if I had it out with Mark? I knew he was pissed at me--apparently, above and beyond the rest of the band, since he didn’t even want to be in the same room as me--but I couldn’t even convince myself that it had that much to do with Sophie. If it had been over Sophie, then hooking up with a handful of girls on Tinder would have taken his mind off it and he’d be over it by now. It had to be something more than that--at least, as best as I could figure.

  The real question is: what possible harm could it do to meet with him? As bad as things were in the band, I didn’t want to risk making them worse. But how much worse could they really get? We were already at a point where whether or not we managed to actually get the fucking album done, we weren’t going to be able to promote it properly, or tour it. If Mark didn’t want to have anything to do with us, and especially me, it was going to be impossible to keep the peace on a damned bus.

  I went back inside, and found Jack in the control room. Nick was in one of the side rooms, laying down a guitar track for one of the songs Mark had worked on earlier in the day; Jules was on the phone with Fran in the break room. “I need a favor,” I told Jack as soon as I sat down.

  “What kind of favor?” I pressed my lips together and considered whether I was really willing to go through with what Nick had suggested. If it came to a fight, it wasn’t like Mark and I were in any danger of actually killing or hurting each other seriously. But I was goddamned tired of having to meet with every other member of the band but him, and having to hear about him secondhand, or having to listen to the tracks he’d laid down hours before and figure out which one I agreed with the other guys on. We worked best when we worked together, and Mark was fucking that up for all of us.

  “I want you to call Mark,” I told Jack. “Have him come in--whatever pretext you want to give him.”

  “I thought you’d all agreed to split up the sessions,” Jack said, looking at me askance. I shrugged.

  “I’m tired of it,” I told him frankly. “I want to get whatever the hell the problem is out into the open, and deal with it. Are you having any fun doing the recordings this way?” Jack laughed.

  “It’s getting done, but it’s more work than fun,” he told me. He sighed, glanced at the panel and then looked at me again. “You want my input on the situation, whatever was going wrong between you guys was going wrong before you started dating some girl Mark had his eye on.” I shrugged.

  “That’s about what I’ve decided,” I said, nodding. “But until I get him to at least talk to be about whatever his malfunction is, it’s going to keep being like this.” I lit a cigarette and Jack shoved the ashtray towards me. “If something doesn’t change, we’re going to lose the band, and the record will never even see the light of day.”

  “Worse,” Jack said, glancing again at the meters on the boards. “It’ll get made, and the label will put it out, and it’ll go nowhere on the charts because none of you guys will be able to coordinate enough to make anything happen.”

  “So, you’ll do it?” Jack considered.

  “Give me thirty minutes and I’ll see if I can get his ass in here,” he said. “Maybe I can pull a fast one on him if I think of something good enough.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The whole time that I waited to hear that Mark was coming into the studio I was distracted; I didn’t even need for Sophie to be there. Nick came in from doing his play-through of the guitar parts, and I went into the bass room to do my own part. Jack had told me to give him thirty minutes, but between one thing and the other, more than an hour passed and I had next to nothing to show for it; I kept flubbing a particular part of the bassline, and I couldn’t seem to get my fingers to work right, in spite of the fact that I’d nailed it in practice earlier in the day.

  I took a break and ran into Jules, hanging around outside; he’d been chatting with Fran about something, to judge by the look on his face. “What’s on your mind tonight, Danny boy?” I shook my head.

  “I told Jack to call Mark into the studio,” I told him. Jules raised an eyebrow and took a drag from his cigarette.

  “Tired of all the bullshit?” I nodded.

  “Either we’re going to stick together as a band or we’re not,” I said. “Either Mark really is this pissed off about me dating some girl he was hot for, or he’s got some other issue, and I’m just fucking exhausted with recording this way.”

  “It’s shit,” Jules agreed. “What are you going to say to him?” I smiled bitterly.

  “It’s probably going to mostly be repeats of, ‘what the fuck, dude?’ until something happens,” I told him. Jules laughed, tilting his head back against the wall.

  “You want me or Nick to hang around when he comes in?” I thought about it. Nick had suggested that it should be just between me and Mark, and I’d pretty much been on board with that idea--but this was something affecting the whole band, not just me. Should I have the rest of the band be around for whatever was going to happen?

  “He’s not talking to any of us,” I mused. “Obviously, he’s not only pissed off at me, if that’s the case.”

  “Yeah, but he’s especially pissed at you,” Jules pointed out. “I’m not saying he’s got any reason for it, just that it’s a thing you need to keep in mind. But if you want me or Nick to be here, mediate or whatever…” I shook my head, coming to a decision.

  “Either he’ll talk or he won’t, and either it�
��ll get figured out or it won’t,” I said. “Whether you and Nick are here or not, the outcome will be whatever-the-fuck it’s supposed to be.”

  “Try not to get under his skin right away if you can help it,” Jules suggested. “He’s already going to be pissed that Jack got him here on false pretenses.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I told him. “I just want to get this over with. Whatever his fucking deal is, I want it out in the open and I want us to figure out where to go from here.” Jules thought about that for a moment and then nodded.

  “How’s Sophie?” I grinned.

  “She’s coming by in a little bit.”

  “You don’t think that’s trying your luck, with Mark supposed to come by too?” I shrugged.

  “It either will be or it won’t be,” I said. Jules exhaled a plume of smoke and pressed his lips together.

  “I want this cold war bullshit over as much as you do,” he said, stubbing his cigarette out. “Just make sure you don’t nuke the band.”

  I went inside after he’d gone to work on his own parts of the songs we were supposed to be recording that night, and found Jack and Nick in the control room. Jack looked up from his boards and nodded to me.

  “Mark said he’d come by at one,” he told me. “I couldn’t talk him into coming in any earlier than that.”

  “Jules and I will be out of the studio by then,” Nick pointed out. “Especially Jules. You got this?” I nodded.

  “Whatever is going to happen, it’ll all go down tonight,” I said.

  “When’s Sophie coming?” I checked my phone.

  “She’s on her way now.” It was 10:30, and I could count on a couple of hours of working, hanging out with her, and maybe a little break in one of the unused studios before Mark got there. It should have made me relax, but it was just more tension.

  I went back into the bass room and tried again on the parts I needed to nail it for us to move forward. Jack was a great producer--he had Jules working in one room and me in another, and somehow, he was able to keep track of us, to give us each individual instructions on how to fix whatever we were doing wrong, or direction on how to change our playing. Even still, though, it was fucking miserable--and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Even Mark had to be feeling like shit. None of us were playing with the same vibe we’d always had, and the early mixes of the songs we’d managed to finish in the first month and a half of recording weren’t what any of us wanted. Either we’ll still be a band at the end of this, or we won’t, I told myself.