Lucky Break

by Liliana Rhodes

  “Ok, ok, relax. I’ll tag along.”

  The photo shoot was in an old warehouse in Santa Monica. The drab grey exterior contrasted the stark white interior. A faint smell of bleach filled the air of the spacious open area. Large rectangular windows let the sun stream in rays onto the shiny tile floor.

  Ian Taylor, a renown rock n roll photographer, converted the first floor into a studio with lighting and sets. The saltwater smell of the nearby ocean drifted in through the windows, masking the bleach and making the room feel less clinical. The large space echoed with their footsteps as they entered the building.

  “Lucky! Back here!” Richard Black called from a corner towards the back of the large studio.

  As they approached, Lucky noticed a couple of guys talking to each other. They were in their early twenties like her and each wore a plain black tee shirt with their jeans. She wondered if that was planned or coincidence.

  “Did you put on more weight? I really was hoping you’d lose,” Richard said.

  Lucky shot him a dirty look then scanned the room looking for Kat, figuring she’d get all her insecurities out as quickly as possible.

  “I don’t see Kat,” she whispered to Jordan. “Think maybe they changed their minds?”

  “Even you aren’t that lucky.”

  A loud bang, then the sound of a sliding metal door echoed through the room, making everyone turn and look. Behind a tall, slim, older man, Kat came stumbling out of the door, looking disheveled and giggling. Wearing a pair of dark grey slacks, a white pinstriped buttoned shirt, and a devilish grin, Ian made his way over to Richard, Lucky and Jordan.

  “Ahh you must be Lucky,” he said in a crisp British accent that immediately charmed her. “I’ve been looking forward to this shoot.” His tousled, salt and pepper hair fell onto his forehead as he put his hand out to greet her.

  As she placed her hand in his, he lifted her fingers to his lips and softly kissed them. She felt heat burn her cheeks and understood why Kat acted as foolishly as she did. There was something sensual about Ian many women couldn’t resist.

  “You’re in good hands with Ian. He’s photographed some of the best known artists out there. I’m sure you’re familiar with his pictures,” Richard said.

  “Yes, I will get the best you there is. The world will see not only how lovely you are, but the true artist within. Don’t worry about what this man says,” he pointed to Richard. “Its my eye, my art, not his.”

  Lucky thought he was full of bullshit, but she was willing to give him a chance. Kat walked over still a little flushed and held her hand out to her.

  “I’ve been dying to meet you, I’m Kat Krave. I play keys and sing backup. I’ve heard some of your tape and I think we’ll sound great together.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said Lucky, surprised with how genuine Kat seemed.

  “Lucky, let me introduce you to the rest of your band,” Richard said. “This is Dylan Young. He’s on bass.” A man with shoulder length light brown hair and a thin, but muscular build, nodded hello. “Paul Ryder is on drums.”

  The last of the band, Paul Ryder, stepped forward and smiled. His black hair was buzzed short except for the top which hung longer and down into his eyes. He looked younger than all of them.

  “Its great to be here Lucky. I think I speak for everyone when I say that,” Paul said.

  “I’m happy to have you guys. I hope you love playing my music as much as I do.”

  A flashbulb popped and Ian grinned. “Just ignore me, love. Trust me when I say the more this camera goes off, the more you’ll get used to it and the better my photos will be.”

  Lucky tried to forget the camera but Ian was everywhere. She and the band continued to talk for a few minutes as Ian took candids. Eventually they did forget he was around and ignored the flashes. When they appeared the most relaxed, Ian put his camera down and tested the bulbs at the plain white set he created.

  He lined the band up, with Lucky in the middle, turned towards the side with her foot facing forward, and Kat at one of the ends and began shooting.

  “Ian, maybe we should do one with Kat more centered,” Richard suggested.

  “Fuck off Richard, I’m the artist here, not you. The camera loves Lucky, I’m not going to put Rock Star Barbie next to her.”

  “Hey!” Kat complained.

  “Who are you kidding, darling?” Ian said as he continued to take pictures of the band, repositioning them slightly every few minutes.

  Kat didn’t reply and Lucky felt bad for her. She knew the reason Ian positioned her the way he did was to make her look thinner to the camera. Of course she was grateful he didn’t say the words out loud. She was getting used to people picking on her size, she never realized that someone as perfect looking as Kat might get picked on too.

  While Lucky was lost in thought, Ian stepped back and snapped a few more photos then stopped. “Lucky darling, I’d like to take some of just you. After all this isn’t the Lucky Saldano Band, it’s just Lucky Saldano.”

  “Huh? Wha– just me?”

  “Yes. Would you mind changing?”

  “Changing? I didn’t bring any other clothes.”

  “Clear the set! Everyone go! I’m done with all of you. I need Lucky to be comfortable.” He looked around the room as the band left and spotted Jordan texting in the corner. “You! Pixie girl! My car is around back, inside you’ll find a shopping bag. Bring it here.”

  Jordan looked confused and shot Ian a nasty look but still went to the car like he asked. Lucky and Ian were seated talking quietly when Jordan returned.

  “I just don’t like having my picture taken. Do you realize the label wanted me to lose weight? Kat was hired because I’m not pretty enough.”

  Lucky couldn’t believe she opened up to Ian this way. He was a complete stranger, yet something about him made her feel at ease with him.

  “Richard is an asshole. He only sees dollar signs. Yes, sex sells, Kat’s appearance sells, but that’s not what you’re about. I can see that. You, love, are a rare girl.” He grabbed the bag from Jordan and handed it to Lucky. “In here are some things I bought for this shoot. I guessed your size but I know its right, if its one thing I know is a woman’s body. Put those on. I had your label send me your record before I agreed to do this shoot. As soon as I heard it I got an image of what your album cover will look like. We’re going to shoot that now.”

  Lucky listened to what Ian said and didn’t question it. The thought of her album cover hadn’t even entered her head. She recorded it just weeks ago, but it still wasn’t real to her until Ian mentioned it. She took the bag and headed into the bathroom and changed.

  Ian selected a pair of white jeans with a peach belt, and a white midriff baring long sleeved top. Lucky had on a peach and brown stone bracelet she pulled over the sleeve since the sleeves were so long. She felt uncomfortable showing her soft stomach and walked back to the set with her arms wrapped around herself.

  “Perfect. Just relax. Pixie girl, bring Lucky the guitar!”

  Jordan grabbed an electric guitar that was in the corner next to her and handed it to Ian. He held the guitar upright and handed it to Lucky with the bottom resting on the ground and her holding onto the headstock. Next he slid her hips to one side and went back to his camera.

  “Perfect!” He snapped a few shots, pulled his laptop over to him, and brought up the photo shoot on the screen. “Come here Lucky. You too Pixie.”

  Lucky held onto the guitar like a security blanket and brought it over to Ian and his laptop. As he began scrolling through the photos she was speechless. In the white outfit, with the way he had her stand, he accentuated the curve of her waist and hips, making her look sexy and not big like she feared.

  “You look amazing girl!” Jordan exclaimed. “And how good are those shots of just you!”

  “See, I was right. Listen to the pixie, Lucky.”

  “Ok, they’re great. I just have one complaint. I really don’t want to have to look at
myself every time I look at my album.”

  “Ahh that’s a first. Usually everyone wants to see themselves staring back,” Ian said.

  “Its not about me though, its about the music. That’s what’s important. This isn’t some vanity project.”

  “Yes, yes, the serious artiste. I should know better right?” He quickly cropped the photo, bringing her body closer and showing only the neck of the guitar but cutting it so everything from the shoulders up wasn’t visible. “There. Guitar up front and center. What do you think?”

  “Its perfect Ian, absolutely perfect. Thank you!”

  PHILADELPHIA FREEDOM

  Chapter Three

  The label had things on a tight schedule. Lucky wanted to head home to see her parents before hitting the road, but with practice there wasn’t enough time. After the photo shoot, Black Dog flew the band to SIR studios in New York where they rehearsed almost non-stop for two days before heading over to Philadelphia for their first show–opening for Patchwork Quilt, a mid-level band on the rise.

  In the past month that she had been signed, the label “leaked” a song she recorded as a demo to radio stations. The song did well enough to book a tencity tour of mostly small clubs or opening for bigger acts. She didn’t have a problem knowing most of the audience wasn’t there for her, that only meant she needed to win them over.

  The old bus groaned as people boarded. It had the distinct scent of disinfectant and lemon the band couldn’t get away from since the windows didn’t open. In a sea of grey and teal seats, Lucky sat in the middle of the bus with her acoustic guitar resting in the seat beside her.

  She smoothed out the skirt of her long black and white paisley print sundress, then swept the top part of her light brown hair off her face and clipped it back. Wearing a dress on stage was the only way she felt comfortable performing.

  Lucky hated airplane and bus seats. The metal arms always hugged her hips as she sat, making her feel larger than she really was. Sliding the arm in between the seats up, she grabbed her guitar and began strumming a few of the songs they were performing that night before turning to Jordan across the aisle.

  “I hate this, Jord. That feeling of impending doom I always get when I have to perform in front of people. Maybe I should’ve just stuck to songwriting.”

  “Listen to yourself, you always get this way and then what happens? You pull through. I swear you become another person on stage. Relax, you’ll be great.” Jordan leaned across the aisle. “I probably shouldn’t say this but I’m worried about the rest of your band,” she whispered.

  “Please don’t say that. Oh geez. I didn’t want to say anything but yeah. Kat seems great, but out of the guys only Dylan has been on tour before. Paul needs to get it together on drums tonight or we’re screwed.”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry. I’m sure everything will be fine, they wouldn’t have hired them if they weren’t good, right?”

  “You’re right, I’m probably worried about nothing.”

  Lucky turned around and looked towards the back of the bus where everyone was asleep except for Kat who listened to music with her feet up on the seat beside her. She had a feeling of dread and decided to focus on her guitar to move her past it. She had to believe everything would work out.

  ***

  As the bus turned off the highway, Lucky slid over to the tinted window and looked out. Until the past week she had never left the Boston area. She was disappointed she didn’t get to see anything in New York, but that was to be expected. From everything she heard about touring, each city would blend into the next since all she would see was the interior of the bus and each venue.

  Lucky watched the city slip past the window. In the distance she saw tall modern buildings, but the streets around her were old. The bus turned underneath a train overpass and pulled up along an old brick building that dominated the block. Posters were plastered along the side of the building.

  Stepping onto the crumbling sidewalk, Lucky noticed a poster with her name in red over a white-on-white image of her with the electric guitar from the photo shoot. Ice shot through her veins as her nerves got the better of her.

  She entered the building with her guitar from the bus, while the roadies grabbed the rest of the equipment. The building was old but still retained some of its original glamour. Lucky walked onto the stage as the gear was set up and marveled at the ornate gothic accents along the walls and ceiling of the 3500 seat venue.

  Taking a deep breath she headed back stage where she found Jordan and the rest of the band filling their plates with food. She entered a dressing room with her name on it and put down her guitar as she thought about how surreal it all was. When she entered the main area again, she saw Richard Black in his usual suit and headed over to him.

  “I didn’t think you’d be here Mr. Black.”

  “Call me Richard. I try to attend every first show. I need to know how the tour is going to turn out. I’ve been in this business long enough that I can tell just from one show.” He looked at Lucky and patted her on the back. “Relax. You’ll do great. Have something to eat, it’ll settle your nerves.”

  Lucky nodded and headed over to the buffet. The variety of food was tempting but she didn’t think she could eat. As she walked along the table, she added a few things to her plate, barely paying attention to what the food was, then sat down at a long table with everyone else.

  “Ready for the show Lucky?” Asked Dylan as he ran his hand through his long, brown hair.

  “No, not at all. I’m really nervous. I know the songs like the back of my hand, but every time I have to get on stage I just, I don’t know.”

  “You doubt yourself.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s it. Once I’m up there its great, but everything leading up to that, forget about it.” She laughed.

  “You’ll do fine. I was the same way. I’ve been on the road for two years now playing bass, a year before that on guitar. Trust me, by the end of this tour you’ll forget to be nervous. It becomes part of you.”

  “I sure as hell hope so,” Paul, the drummer interjected. “I hope I don’t let you guys down.”

  Lucky looked down the table to Paul. He was the youngest of them and during rehearsals seemed to really take it personally when his mistakes were called out.

  “You gotta get out of your head man,” Dylan said.

  “I’m sure once you’re up there you’ll feel better,” Lucky said as she began to worry again.

  Unfortunately as the drummer everyone would hear his mistakes. One little mistake on the drummer’s part and if the rest of the band wasn’t careful, they’d lose their timing and have have sonic mud. She had to trust the label and Chuck her producer wouldn’t give her someone who would flake on stage.

  After the stage was set up, the band did a sound check and ran through a couple of songs which turned out perfectly, setting Lucky’s mind at ease. She and Jordan peeked out the curtain from the side of the stage as the crowd entered and took their seats.

  “Its time Lucky, are you ready?” Richard seemed energized as he quickly looked out the curtain. “Those people out there will love you. Now knock ‘em dead!”

  She didn’t expect a pep-talk from him, but it did help her confidence. Jordan stayed off stage as the curtains opened and Lucky and the band took their places, waving to the crowd. Paul was the last to take his place, running to his drums. Lucky thought he looked a little sweaty but attributed it to his nerves. As the first boom of the drum hit her, all her nerves left.

  The band went through five songs and the crowd cheered and clapped along with each of them. Paul made a few minor errors, but they were able to keep going without any problems until he remembered the song again. The next song, “All My Stars” started with a complicated drum groove and Lucky stood at the mic waiting to hear it.

  When nothing happened she turned around and caught Paul’s eye. He looked dazed and pale as he stared out in front of him. She snapped her fingers as she co
unted out the beat, but he didn’t play. Unsure what to do, she turned back to the audience and smiled.

  “I’m sorry, we’re having a little technical issue right now.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a furious Richard off stage. He commanded a stage hand to close the curtain and got to Paul as the band surrounded his drum kit.

  “What the hell! Why aren’t you playing?” Richard barked.

  “I…I can’t. I just can’t.” Paul said.

  “What do you mean you can’t?” Lucky asked.

  “Its too much! I know I’m going to mess up that groove. I’ll let everyone down like I did in practice. I can’t do it. I suck!”

  “Paul, breathe. Get it together! This isn’t the time for–”

  “Listen to me right now,” Richard said. “You will either play this song right now or I swear you will never play on stage again. Do you hear me?”

  Paul got up and walked off stage, leaving his drum sticks behind.

  “Wait, Paul!” Lucky called out to him.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him.” Dylan set his bass down and left the stage.

  “This is what is going to happen.” Richard said. “You’re going to do a signing. I’ll get CD’s and posters set up now in the lobby. I’ll explain one of your band members got sick and you can’t finish the show.”

  Lucky was speechless. Performing on stage was one thing, but the possibility of having to meet people and possibly sign stuff seemed crazy to her. She walked over to Jordan knowing only her oldest friend would understand what she was going through.

  “I can’t believe I have to do a signing. People aren’t going to want my autograph. Who would want to meet me?”

  “That crowd was into it Lucky. You have no idea but I saw them, they loved you.”

  “Really?” Lucky shook her head in disbelief.

  When she played it was like nothing else mattered in the world. She belonged on stage singing and playing guitar, it was the only place she felt at ease.