“What? An amateur recording on your social media pages?” scoffed Laughlan brusquely.
“Exactly that,” stated Jake, staring coldly at the Scotsman. “It shows the boys reaching out in a personal way, just when it matters most.”
“Let’s do it,” agreed Mikey. “Get one of the girls in here that deals with the fan stuff.”
It took a while for the remaining members of Weigh Station to agree on a suitably worded announcement, but eventually they came up with a short, heartfelt message. Nursing a cold cup of coffee, Jake stood back out of the way and watched as they recorded the short video then re-joined them to listen to the playback. It was perfect. Within minutes of it being recorded, the message announcing Dan’s sudden death to the Weigh Station fans was online. The band promised to honour and celebrate their front man’s life at the anniversary show, confirming that the show would still go ahead as planned.
The hotel foyer was empty as Jake walked wearily through towards the elevator. He had just pressed the call button when he became aware of his name being called from the cocktail bar to his left. Turning towards the voice, he saw Jethro and Rich waving at him. From the number of empty glasses and coffee cups in front of them, he guessed they’d been there all evening. With a sad smile, Jake headed over to break the news to them.
“Long day?” asked Rich, noting the drawn look on his friend’s face.
“Something like that,” sighed Jake as he sank down into the seat across from them. “Dan was found dead earlier today.”
“Dead?” echoed Jethro in disbelief. “How? When?”
Jake nodded, then added quietly so no one around them could overhear, “Yesterday broke him. He took his own life last night or early this morning.”
“Shit. Poor guy,” sympathised Rich shaking his head slowly. “He must’ve been in a hell of a bad way to resort to that.”
“He was. He was dying from lung cancer,” confessed Jake sadly. “However, he’s left written instructions that the show’s to go ahead. Tomorrow night is still on.”
“They’re not cancelling?” Jethro commented. “Can those boys hold it together to play?”
“Christ, I hope so,” prayed Jake, sub-consciously running his hands through his hair. “I hope I can hold it together!”
“Big ask of you, Mr Power,” agreed the Silver Lake manager. “Huge ask.”
“I owe it to him to give it my best shot,” Jake declared, getting to his feet. “I need to go and break the news to Lori. He’s left a note for her too. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“What time are you getting picked up at?” asked Rich as he reached out for his glass.
“Eleven. Are you both coming with us?”
“Yes,” said his band mate before Jethro could object. “We’ll meet you in the foyer just before eleven.”
“Fine,” agreed Jake. “Night, guys. Raise a glass for Dan.”
When he entered the hotel room, Lori was sitting at the desk, totally absorbed in her work. At the sound of the door closing, she looked up and laid her pencil down. One look at Jake was enough to tell her that something was wrong. Instinctively, she knew what it was.
“Dan?” she asked softly as Jake came over to put his arms around her.
He nodded, his eyes filled with unshed tears.
“Oh, Jake, I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching out to hug him.
“He just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go on.” Jake’s voice was husky and choked with his emotions. “He left you this. I haven’t read it.”
He brought the creased note out of the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to her. Slowly, Lori unfolded it and read it over to herself, a single tear gliding down her cheek.
“I got one too,” said Jake softly.
With tears almost blinding her, Lori began to read aloud, “Mz Hyde, Lori, thank you. You knew when we met at your home in New York that my end was coming sooner than the doctors were telling me. I saw it in your eyes, princess. Thank you for not saying anything. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me and the boys over the years. From the scrawny college kid begging me to be allowed to design for us to the stunning young star you became. We owe you a lot. Thank you for bringing the future to Weigh Station. I’m guessing that without you, we’d never have had the honour of meeting Mr Power that first time in the studio in New York. If Weigh Station still has a future, he is it. Look after him, princess. Wipe those tears away and celebrate life. Love and lingering lust, Dan.”
“Sense of humour to the end,” smiled Jake. “I always suspected he had a soft spot for you, li’l lady.”
Wiping away her tears, Lori smiled and revealed, “I knew he did.” She paused, then added, “So now what?”
“Now I’ve a show to front tomorrow night in front of twelve thousand Weigh Station fans mourning their idol.”
“He wouldn’t have offered it to you if he didn’t know you could do it for him.”
♫
As their car drew up outside the arena next day, Jake was consumed with self-doubt. He’d spent a restless night tossing and turning. When he did finally get to sleep, it was filled with nightmares of stage fright and forgotten lyrics. At five thirty, he had crept out of the hotel for a long, early morning run. The cool October morning air had cleared his head, but had done little to settle his growing nerves.
“Show time,” whispered Lori quietly as the driver opened the car door for them.
Their way into the arena was lined with sombre Weigh Station fans. Around a hundred fans were standing along the pavement, all either in black or with a black armband on. One group of girls were holding up homemade signs saying “R.I.P. Dan”. Keeping his head bowed, Jake walked towards the entrance. Behind him, the remaining members of Weigh Station were pausing to speak to their fans, taking the time to talk to each and every one of them, politely accepting all their condolences.
Before Jake and Lori reached the door, Jethro stopped them and indicated that Jake should go back to be with Weigh Station.
“No,” he said calmly. “I’m the outsider here today. I’m just the hired voice. Those guys need this moment alone with those kids.”
“I agree,” added Rich solemnly as he looked around at the shrine of flowers and T-shirts that was spreading along the wall behind him.
In her hand, Lori had a small drawing, hastily completed over breakfast, but her own silent tribute to her old friend. Squeezing Jake’s hand, she said she’d be back in a moment and headed over to the shrine, leaning heavily on her cane. The cold, damp weather was disagreeing with the lingering pain in her leg. With tears stinging at her eyes, she read the messages of sympathy and sorrow; smiled at the fan photos that had been left among the flowers. There was a space beside a faded Weigh Station T-shirt that looked like the perfect spot for her own small tribute. The design on the shirt was the first album cover she had created for Dan and his boys.
“Rest easy,” she whispered as she propped her drawing up beside the T-shirt. “Dan, if you’re listening, guide the boys and Jake through this.”
Tears were gliding down her cheeks as she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Jethro.
“Time to go in, princess,” he said warmly. “Jake’s already inside.”
Silently, she nodded and allowed the Silver Lake manager to put a supporting arm around her waist and guide her into the building.
Once inside the venue, everything felt like the normal pre-show energy. The mood of the crew and the venue staff was possibly a little more subdued than usual, but everyone seemed to be putting a brave face on their grief. In the back stage communal lounge, the itinerary was posted on the door – lunch, press, sound check, VIP Meet and Greet, dinner, show. Someone had scored out “after show” but when he saw this, Mikey wrote it back on with a pen he borrowed from Lori.
It had been arranged for the band plus Jake to meet with the press inside the arena itself, using the stage as the backdrop. At Jake’s insistence, both Rich and Lori had followed the band through, then discr
etely took a seat in the stand.
“Glad it’s not me standing down there,” confessed Rich as they watched the barrage of photography flashes. “I’ve no idea how he’s doing this.”
“He has to,” stated Lori simply. “No choice. Show must go on and all that.”
Standing beside Mikey during the press event, Jake struggled to keep his nerves and emotions in check. Seeing the vast concert hall again, empty, reminded him of his last appearance here with Weigh Station- his famous shirtless appearances.
“Jake, you’ve stepped up tonight to lead these guys out. Tell us how that came about?” asked one journalist, bringing his attention back to the moment.
“About a month ago Dan asked if I’d come along and sing a few songs with him. It was as simple as that,” explained Jake, forcing a smile. “Originally, we planned just a couple of numbers, but that wasn’t to be.”
“We’ve already heard that tonight’s going ahead at Dan’s personal request. Was it also his personal request that you take his place?” enquired another journalist. “Or was it always the plan to have you on standby?”
Before Jake could formulate an answer, Mikey butted in sharply, “Dan knew he was sick when he first spoke to Jake. My guess is that he knew there was a chance he’d be too sick to do the whole set. The deal with Jake was always that he’d sing what he had to. We never quantified how few or how many songs that would be.”
“And have you shortened the set for tonight?”
“On the contrary,” said Jake with a nod to Mikey. “We’ve actually added in two songs. I’m not trying to fill Dan’s shoes here. No one can do that. I’m here to lend my voice to support Weigh Station celebrate Dan’s life as he wanted them to.”
“Do you know all the lyrics?” asked one female reporter with a wink at him. “You’ve not had long to learn the whole set.”
“Most of them,” laughed Jake, fidgeting nervously. “I’ve been a huge fan of these guys for a long time. I’ve got all their records. We’ve had a couple of days of rehearsal. All I can promise everyone, Dan included if he’s listening, is that I’ll give it my best shot.”
Laughlan, closely followed by Jethro, chose that moment to call a halt to the interview, much to Weigh Station and Jake’s relief. There was just time for a few more photos then they were ushered back stage to prepare for sound check.
Sensing they would be in the way if they returned back stage, Rich and Lori remained seated in the stand, chatting quietly as they watched the Weigh Station crew finish off setting up the stage. They were treated to a run through of some of the lighting, as the rig was tested. Before the band were due out on stage, the arena doors opened and the two hundred VIP fans entered the hall. Like everyone else, they too seemed more subdued than usual as a member of the arena’s staff shepherded them towards the stage.
In the dressing room, Jake was pacing restlessly as he waited on the three members of Weigh Station joining him. Their manager had spirited them away for a “band meeting”, leaving him to do a short warm up ahead of the sound check. There were a few invited media personnel and photographers milling about and he got caught up in a conversation about NASCAR with a young American photographer. While they debated the pros and cons of the sport animatedly, Weigh Station re-entered the room. The three older musicians looked strained, but were putting on a brave face that mirrored his own.
“Mr Power,” called out Mikey abruptly. “You ready?”
“Always,” called back Jake, sounding calmer than he felt.
As they walked through the maze of corridors to the side of the stage, the four of them discussed their approach for the sound check. Jake requested a full run through of a couple of the songs on the set list plus one of the numbers that they had slotted in. The others nodded in agreement as Mikey added that he had a few solos he wanted to try. His guitar technician had been rebuilding one of his original guitars and he wanted the chance to try it out. With their plan of attack agreed, they stepped out onto the stage to a polite cheer from the VIP fans.
“Afternoon,” shouted Mikey with a forced smile. “We’ll be with you shortly, folks. Bear with us while we work a few things out up here.”
Behind him, Jake was flicking through the book of lyric sheets, his hands trembling as he sought out the first song they were to run through. Eventually he found the right page, laid the book on the stage at his feet and adjusted the mic stand to his preferred level. A few moments later, after a nod from Mikey, Weigh Station started to play. They made it through the first couple of songs with no issues, much to everyone’s relief. While the drummer ran through part of his solo, Mikey and Steve huddled together with Jake. Once the drummer was happy with his set up, it was Jake’s turn to test his guitar skills. There were a few tweaks needed to the amp he had been allocated but he was soon satisfied with the sound and stood casually playing the riff from Weigh Station’s most famous anthem, Battle Scars. He was aware of the eyes of the Weigh Station fans boring into him.
“Want to run through that one?” asked Steve. “We don’t want to balls it up later.”
Jake nodded his agreement, then stepped forward to address the small group of fans.
“Thanks for your patience, folks,” he said warmly. “It would be a huge help to me if you sang along on this one. You all know the words to Battle Scars, right?”
“Yes, but do you?” called back one fan with a wink up at him.
“Most of them,” joked Jake with a smile. “It’s been a lot to learn in a short space of time. Be gentle with me, please.”
Without further ado, Mikey and Steve launched straight into their famous rock anthem and were quickly joined by Phil’s thunderous drum beat. Clutching the mic in his sweating hands, Jake began the vocal, praying that he would remember the words. If it all fell apart at this point, he was terrified that his nerves would seize control.
From their seats in the stand, Rich and Lori recognised the anxious look on Jake’s face. As soon as he had reached the end of the first verse, they saw his shoulders drop a little as he began to relax. With Battle Scars safely under his belt, they watched Jake and Weigh Station work their way through the sound check. There was little engagement with their fans, but, under the circumstances, no one seemed to mind. After a while, they took a short break and the fans were herded back out of the arena, towards the conference room that was set up for the meet and greet session. This left the fragile musicians in peace to finish up. Just as they were about done, Mikey stepped over to Jake’s microphone and called out across the void, “Mr Santiago, care to join us?”
Looking surprised, Rich got to his feet and made his way down from the tiered seating. Not wanting to be left behind, Lori carefully followed him down the steps to the arena floor.
As Rich reached the stage, Mikey asked, “Feel up to a guest slot up here tonight?”
“Sure, if you think it’ll work,” agreed Rich, clambering up onto the stage. “What did you have in mind?”
“How about guesting on Sunset After The Storm?”
“Fine by me.”
Quietly, Lori slipped out of the arena and headed backstage to find Jethro and a cup of coffee. She was sitting reading her book when Jake and the others returned to the lounge area an hour or so later. They were all talking animatedly about the meet and greet session. All of them touched by how understanding the fans had been. Spotting his fiancée sitting on her own, Jake came over to join her.
“Hey, li’l lady,” he said with a relaxed smile. “You ok over here?”
“I’m fine, rock star,” she replied softly. “More to the point, though, are you?”
“More or less,” replied Jake as he sat beside her. Stretching his long legs out in front of him and his arms up over his head, he added, “It all feels a bit surreal. I keep expecting to wake up in bed beside you and realise this was all a nightmare. I can’t quite get my head round the fact I’m fronting Weigh Station in a few hours’ time in front of a sell-out London crowd. Or round the fact that D
an’s gone.”
“You’re not dreaming,” assured Lori, putting her hand on his thigh. “And you’ll be incredible out there tonight. Dan placed his faith in you.”
“I just don’t want to let these guys down,” sighed Jake, looking over at the three Weigh Station guys, who were huddled together again in the far corner with their manager.
“How are they holding up?”
“Better than I thought they would,” he replied, keeping his voice quiet. “Laughlan’s keeping a close eye on them. There’s been a few pep talks. I don’t honestly think it’s hit home yet.”
“Perhaps,” agreed Lori sadly. “It can’t be easy for them, or for you, in the circumstances.”
“All I can do is give it my best shot,” conceded Jake, running his hands through his hair.
A few short hours later, Jake was alone in a small dressing room, finishing his vocal warm up routine. Both Rich and Lori had gone up to the side of the stage to watch the two support acts over an hour earlier. Left on his own, he had taken time to warm up properly and to focus his mind on the set. The lyrics folder lay open on a chair in front of him. As he reached down to close it over, he said quietly, “Dan, I hope you knew what you were doing when you set this up.”
A knock at the door brought him back to reality with a start.
“Jake,” called Mikey, poking his head into the small room. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” declared Jake, picking up the folder.
“Laughlan wants us all together before we head out there.”
When the two musicians entered the backstage lounge, the other members of Weigh Station and assorted personnel were all gathered, each holding a shot glass. A young female assistant handed Mikey and Jake a glass. One sniff informed Jake it was tequila.
“Thanks, everyone,” began Laughlan, glancing round the room. “I’ve been given a short note to read out tonight. Before he left us, Dan wrote to a few folk. You know who you are. He left me a note with this one sealed inside it and instructions to only open it now. He said you all had to have a shot of tequila in your hand when I read it.”
Impossible Depths (Silver Lake series Book 2) Page 44