Ashley just nodded, surprised that someone recognized her. It was just one more reminder that she never quite became the success that she’d always hoped to become.
Gayle slapped a hand against her thigh. “You’re on that monster show, Revelations.”
“Yes.”
“My little nephew, Ronnie, loves that show. He’s ten and shouldn’t be watching it, because I don’t think he’s old enough. But he’s got a major crush on you.”
“That’s so sweet,” Ashley said, a smile coming to her face as a good-natured mood rose up and took hold of her. “We can snap a picture to show him if you like.”
“I’d like to give him a little preview of the show. Have you got any spoilers?”
“I sure do. I die. So tell Ronnie not to watch that episode.”
“You die?”
“A horrible death, I’m sure. For all I know, a vampire could be biting my neck while a zombie gnaws on my leg.” She gave that some thought. “You’d think that would infect the vampire, right? But he’s dead, so he can’t turn into a zombie. It’s not like he has any brain cells or living organs.” She shook her head, annoyed. Over the past few months, she’d been working on fantasy/horror scripts for a television series of her own titled—Echoes of Eternity, and it tackled that very question. “I love horror movies. Always have. They’re tons of fun. But they make absolutely no sense.”
Gayle smiled at her with a chilling effect. Her friendly expression turned vengeful. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Ashley. It’s been a long time since you ruined my relationship with Scott. And I’m glad that I’ll be able to pay you back with the secret you just told me.”
Ashley’s stomach sank with the same anxiety with which she’d had upon first seeing her mother in the kitchen. “What? Who are you?”
“You don’t remember me? I’m not surprised. Maybe you’ll remember that I followed Scott around like a pathetic little groupie a couple years before you even noticed him. And then you stole him from me.”
“We were only together for a month. He wasn’t dating anyone at that time.”
Gayle chuckled without humor. “Keep telling yourself that… if it makes you feel better about yourself.” She turned to leave but swung back a second later with a snarl. “I’m looking forward to hearing what the producers of your show will think about my scoop: your character’s death.”
“Wait,” Ashley said, leaping towards her. She caught hold of Gayle’s arm, before the reporter shook it off. “Please don’t. It’s a secret. Only a handful of people know. It might hurt the show.”
“What do you care? You’re getting canned, aren’t you? What difference does it make?”
“It’ll give others the idea that I’m not reputable. It could ruin my career.”
Gayle crossed her arms on her chest and snorted. “Sort of like how you stole Scott from me?” She squinted at her. “No, you deserve what’s coming to you. And I’m really glad I could let everyone know… exactly what a bitch you are!” She whirled around and stalked away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
After performing his final cover song of the evening, having played seventeen songs rather than the twelve the crowd had expected, Scott Mettle smiled as he took in the five hundred spectators standing before him. If Kelsey Lawford hadn’t run into a streak of bad luck, he wouldn’t have agreed to the gig.
But if she knew Gayle’s true intentions in attempting to publicize her poor fortunes, she would no doubt blame Scott – even though he hadn’t seen the reporter in fifteen years. And he was certain that Gayle’s animosity stemmed from one source: Kelsey’s sister, Ashley.
Of course, Scott had seen Ashley in the crowd. How could he not? As his first girlfriend, and the only woman he’d ever loved, he would always reserve a special place in his heart for her. It was only during this past Valentine’s Day that he’d finally gotten over the idea that he would one day reunite with his soul mate.
Still, before he’d heard that Ashley would be in attendance, Scott had no interest in performing. Afterwards, however, his nerves jittered, his heart hammered, and his breath came much too quick. All signs that he shouldn’t get up on stage.
So what did he do a few seconds later? Reverse his decision. Despite having not rehearsed with the session musicians he’d met at Rax Trax Recording studio earlier that day), Scott had convinced them to play a set list of cover songs.
His desire to play tonight had nothing to do with trying to win Ashley back. He didn’t even want to talk to her. Not after how she’d ended things with him. Only after he’d watched her act on television and in movies did Scott understand how she could have been so… heartless.
Contrary to public opinion, Ashley Lawford was a good actress, far better than critics or viewers gave her credit for. Scott suspected they downplayed her talent because, having been rated as one of Maxim Magazine’s sexiest women a few times over the past decade, they couldn’t see her as anything but a beautiful face.
Then again, if she still suffered from poor self-esteem (as she had in high school), Ashley had probably accepted every acting opportunity that came her way, resulting in selecting poorly written scripts (the one exception being her current television show, which had plenty of action, suspense, mystery, and a surprising amount of sex and romance). And given those circumstances, after acting in one horrible movie or television show after another, people associated her talent with the wretched films and television shows she acted in.
Over the years, Scott had seen every single one of her movies and hadn’t missed one episode of any show she acted in. All because he needed to see Ashley. He figured psychiatrists would have plenty to dissect about such self-flagellation. But again, it had nothing to do with the stirrings of a love-struck loser who couldn’t let go of the past.
Just as Scott had to see Ashley in every piece of entertainment she’d acted in to face the truth that they would never again be a couple, he wanted to get up on stage tonight to actually feel that they weren’t going to get back together, rather than simply just knowing it. He needed to look at her and feel nothing. Only then could he move on without looking back.
He thought he’d recognized her earlier, but only when Gayle stepped away from Ashley before walking out of the restaurant did he spot her toward the stage while looking right at him. Her expression, full of frustration and sadness and regret, hit him with all the power of being on the receiving end of a piercing blow to his stomach.
Scott wanted to expose her cruelty and hurt her the way she’d tortured him. But he’d long since realized that punishing those who’d wronged him wouldn’t make the pain he’d endured disappear. And that included his first love, a woman who never explained why she’d abandoned him.
So he stared back at her. And it didn’t affect him. All of the confusion and anger that he’d tucked away in a part of his heart only slipped out from under its hiding place during songwriting sessions. And based on Ashley’s grief-stricken gaze, Scott still couldn’t drudge up the fury that racked him when she’d deserted him. Yet he had no idea why she looked so dispirited. Perhaps she regretted mistreating him all those years ago. Or maybe she recalled wistful memories from their past.
Nonetheless, Scott refused to let her affect his mood. He broke their connection and glanced at the crowd, watching them clap, whistle, and shout. Their enthusiasm almost persuaded him to smile. But he’d played songs by other musicians, not tunes that he’d written. And while he always came alive on stage, playing cover songs couldn’t compare to hearing the crowd sing the words he’d written.
But he had no intention of singing those songs live until he’d perfected the new songs he recorded in his home studio, one of which he’d briefly snuck into his performance. Until tonight, he didn’t know if he could play his own music without his brother, Gabe, by his side.
And although he’d only carried off songs written by others, he still counted the performance as a success in that he’d at least made it to the stage again. In a way,
he had Ashley to thank for getting him past such a major obstacle. Ever since he’d disbanded his group seven years ago, after Gabe had a meltdown before entering rehab for alcoholism, he’d never even contemplated the idea of walking onto another stage again.
Of course, playing for only five hundred people in attendance didn’t make for a trailblazing return. He would have preferred selling out an arena or a stadium. But he’d only given his listeners (he detested the word “fans” because the term separated him from those who listened to his music) a few hours’ notice that he’d be playing at a…restaurant.
Following that line of logic, Scott would have almost preferred to have never shown up tonight. He hadn’t achieved his goal of becoming one of the greatest singer/songwriters in history. While less than one-tenth of one percent of musicians ever reached that objective, as a teenager, he’d only wanted to sing and play the music he created all across the globe.
And given that Scott had shared these dreams with Ashley, he now sensed why she looked at him with that pained expression: she pitied him. He’d fallen far short of reaching his dreams.
Rock music had taken a back seat to rap, pop, and country music.
Which explained why Scott spent the last five years writing alongside everyone from Eminem and Rihanna to Katy Perry and Taylor Swift. He wanted to make a comeback, and he wanted to work with the best, so that he could produce a record with elements of those genres, while still remaining firmly entrenched in the rock ’n’ roll tradition. And he didn’t know if his determination and steadfast belief to achieve his goals were the delusional dreams of a washed up “almost-been” or if he had every reason to believe that he could obtain the type of career that had so far eluded him.
Those thoughts abounded as he looked in Ashley’s direction, only to realize that she’d vanished. He approached the microphone stand and said, “Thanks for all your support. I had a lot of fun tonight. I hope you did, too. Be safe out there.”
Not a very rock ’n’ roll conclusion to his performance. Ten years ago, while much younger and more immature, he would have thrown in some curse words to encourage the crowd to scream at the highest levels of the night. But he’d reached an age where he felt comfortable being himself, rather than what the world expected from a lead singer of a rock band. And he wanted his music to lift people up, not tear them down. If others didn’t like it, they could go to hell. Now that was a proper rock ’n’ roll attitude!
After leaving the stage to chat and take pictures with members of the audience, Scott paid close attention to how his music inspired a few listeners: one woman found the courage to leave an abusive relationship; a disabled war-veteran discovered the fortitude to disregard other people’s perceptions of his abilities and chase his dream of becoming a championship bowler; and one young parent finally obtained the resolve and resilience to end a horrifying cycle of substance abuse.
The self-assurance these individuals had gained from Scott’s music filled him with hope and gave him a shot of tenacity to continue on his path. It also improved his mood. Two hours later, he came upon someone he least wanted to see: Ashley’s father, Glenn Lawford.
The burly man, whose muscles had gotten swallowed up by a layer of fat, grunted at him as a greeting. Staring at him with an intense glare, Glenn released a pent-up breath, making it clear that it took a lot of self-control not to throttle Scott. “Don’t give a second thought to seeing my daughter again.”
“How do you know I had a first thought about seeing her?”
Glenn stepped up to him, leaving only six inches separating them. “Does it look like comedy hour right now? Because I’ll wipe that arrogant smirk off your face with my fist.”
That cocky threat reminded Scott of the way his own father talked to him (although his dad preferred to let his fists do the talking most of the time) and he felt a sliver of fear slice through him. For just a moment. A second later, anger replaced that sensation. “What do you know about me, huh? Other than that I’m a musician and that I was once in love with your daughter? Anything? Because a smart man gets the facts right before making assumptions.”
Glenn had always judged him without ever having a real conversation with him, without ever getting a firm grasp of what he hoped to accomplish with his life. Although he never cared for the man who had tried to keep him and Ashley apart, Scott respected him.
How could he not? Having been a police officer for decades, he’d once served a higher calling. In times of great uncertainty and stress, he put his life on the line for others. Scott couldn’t imagine a more selfless career. Besides, Glenn cared about the well-being of his family. And he took great measures to protect them, even if they were unjustified. No one could ask for more from a parent.
“Don’t play smart with me.” Glenn said.
“I’m not playing with you. It just comes naturally.”
“What have you done with your life? Do you even have a full-time job?”
“I’ve got two platinum records under my belt.”
“That was a long time ago,” said Glenn. “How about since then?”
Scott crushed a smile. “Have you heard of Justin Timberlake?” When Glenn looked back at him with a blank stare, he said, “How about Pink? Or Eminem? Or Carrie Underwood? Kelly Clarkson?”
Still no reaction.
This time, remembering a conversation they’d had when they first met, Scott smiled. “You know Aerosmith, right?”
Glenn blew out a breath, disgusted. “You’re not in Aerosmith.”
“You’re right, I’m not. I wrote songs with them back in the day. And right now, I don’t have a full-time job, but I’m concentrating on music at least twelve hours a day. Sometimes more than that. Because I don’t consider it work. But I’ll tell you this: I’ll reach my dreams.”
“To be a rock star?” said Glenn, shaking his head in disapproval. “Is that what you’ll do when you’re sixty? Hoping people will pay forty bucks to see you run around on stage?”
“That’s like saying you became a cop so you could shoot people. But here’s the thing: you don’t know the first thing about me. You think you do, but you don’t. So when you act arrogant, I do my best to ignore it. Because you’re Ashley’s father. And she loves you. So the next time you call me a failure, you better know what you’re talking about.”
Scott looked him in the eye, waiting for another remark. But he didn’t get one. So he spun around, planning to speak with Kelsey, but Glenn would no doubt watch his next steps, so he thought better of it and made his way toward the exit.
“Scott Mettle!”
Hearing a familiar voice, he stopped to discover the identity of the person calling him. And seeing Gayle Hart, Scott wished he’d left the building. He had no interest in seeing her ever again. He’d once considered her an acquaintance, only to find that she wanted more than he could give.
That sentiment hadn’t changed. Scott had the ability to forgive, but when it came to forgetting, he had a difficult time doing so. After all, everyone made mistakes, but after someone hurt or betrayed him, he’d always be on guard, prepared if that person turned on him again.
“What can I do for you?” Scott asked.
“An interview would be nice,” she said, beaming at him. “I’m a journalist.”
“Really? That’s great. Television or print?”
“Online, actually.” But she couldn’t hide her disappointment at admitting that truth. “It’s my small business start-up: the Bedford Falls-Vista Heights Times.”
“Congratulations. Good luck with that.” Having no interest in talking to the press, even if the person asking questions was a fellow student who had suffered through high school just as much as he did, Scott headed in the opposite direction.
“Word is that you and Ashley Lawford were quite the couple way back when,” said Gayle.
That stopped him in his tracks. He contemplated walking out, because any statement he made could easily be taken out of context. But when it came to his on
ly love, he often lost better judgment.
“You must have a statement. Ashley Lawford is an almost-famous actress, and well, you almost became a rock star… before performing at restaurants.”
That last remark made him clench his fingernails into his palms. Both of his albums had reached platinum status. Not many bands could claim the same track record. Nevertheless, Scott expected each album to go platinum at least three times over. Thus, he felt like he’d never reached his potential. Which explained why he’d worked with the best artists on the planet: he wanted to soak up whatever knowledge he could learn from them. Unfortunately, they didn’t have much to impart. Many of them left their overall sound to others.
And since Scott expected so much more from his first two records, he no longer trusted others to complete his vision. He wanted total control over his musical direction, only because he had a difficult time transcribing what he heard in his head into words. Besides, he wanted to bring rock music back in a major way, to persuade disc jockeys to play something other than rap, pop, and country music on popular radio stations across the country.
Scott wanted to touch others on a universal scale – from the U.S. to Brazil and from Russia to the Japan But such high expectations could only end in failure. So in the meantime, he tried to remain humble and appreciate the small successes that came his way.
His failure to match his ambition turned Scott’s attention back to Gayle. “What’s your article about?”
“The downfall of an almost-actress. A woman who almost made it big in Hollywood. And the incompetence of a musician who had all the talent in the world but not the willpower to become the success he always dreamed of.”
“Sounds like a movie. Did you write it?”
Momentarily confused, Gayle narrowed her eyebrows. “No.”
“Well, you’re a writer. What are you waiting for?”
“Come on, Scott. You owe me an exclusive.”
“And why is that?”
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