Broken Strings (A Rock Star Novel)

by Brynn O'Connor

  He looks down at his watch. “I got a couple errands to run first. How about we meet at Zebra’s at eight?”

  The Dancing Zebra is a trendy Mediterranean eatery in Berkeley. You nearly always have to have a reservation well in advance so I can’t help but wonder, was he planning on asking someone else and just decided to ask me instead, or does he know someone there? When I don’t respond right away he guesses my thoughts.

  “I know the owners and they owe me a couple favors. See you at eight?”

  “Sure, I'll be there at eight sharp. I'm bringing the couple behind us too.”

  He laughs at my lame joke and gets up to leave. “Bye for now June.”

  “Later Brand.”

  ~~~

  Three minutes past seven…

  I’m standing half naked in front of my closet looking for something appropriately trendy that doesn’t scream fuck me. I’m looking for more of a, feel me up dress; sexy but not too sexy. I really don’t want anything to happen between us at this stage in the game ‘cause it always wrecks things for me the moment things get really intimate.

  After spending way too much time deciding I finally settle on a little white body hugging number that flairs sexily at the hips and is short, but not so short I have to worry the whole night about exposing my booty. It definitely says lets fool around without saying I’m easy.

  Twenty minutes later I’m working my way through traffic in my Prius and listening to Fringe’s new CD Straight Jacket. The song Bound is making my mirrors vibrate with the drums and base.

  "...Gagged and bound

  You got me where you want me

  So put down your rifle, call off your hound.

  You got me where you want me

  Gagged and bound..."

  I decide to crack the windows and let the wind play with my long black tresses. It won’t hurt to look a little windblown tonight. The traffic is worse than I anticipated and by the time I pull into the parking lot it’s a twenty past eight. I really hope he isn’t mad.

  I hate it when people are late to meet me and I really didn’t want to be late to meet him tonight. I walk in just as U2’s Walk On is getting underway. I love the song, and they’re definitely in my top ten when it comes to bands; especially their older stuff. They’ve kinda gotten soft over the years, but they’re still hot.

  The maître de approaches as I walk in. I can’t help but notice the way his eyes roam my body. Most nights I’d be offended, but tonight it feels more like a compliment. I smile and tell him I’m looking for Brand. I’m just about to launch into a description of him when the guy stops me.

  “Ah yes, you must be June. He said a very pretty young lady would be joining him tonight and he wasn’t mistaken.”

  I smile warmly and let the man take my arm and lead me to one of the best tables in the restaurant. Color me impressed. He must have saved the owner’s life or something to rate this kind of respect.

  When I repeat my thoughts to Brand he just smiles mysteriously and says, it’s a long story.

  “I hope you didn’t think I wasn’t coming,” I say as I sat down.

  “Oh no, I just figured the couple from the booth were coming instead and just couldn’t find the place.”

  Brand looks pretty darn handsome this evening. He cleans up well. He’s got on a trendy, expensive pair of designer blue jeans and a nice white button down shirt sans tie, and a dark blazer; very classy.

  “You look amazing,” Brand says as he hands me a menu. “If you’re not familiar with this place I can tell you what’s good. Well, it’s all good, but there are things that are exceptional.”

  “Okay…give me exceptional.”

  “If you’re a red meat kinda girl I recommend their fillet mignon. It’s like, three inches thick and tender all the way through. And, if you happen to like your meat cooked through and through, they do it without drying it out or making the top and bottom too crispy. There’s a definite science to cooking a 3 inch steak like that and they have it down to a 'T'.”

  “Sold.”

  “Great, what size?”

  “You know what, give me a twelve ounce and if I need to I’ll take it in a doggie bag to go.”

  “Wise choice, I’m going with the same. How do you like yours cooked?”

  “Hmmm medium I guess. I like to see a little pink in the very middle, but not much.”

  After placing our orders we share a bottle of wine while waiting and chit chat about Fringe and the upcoming concerts in San Jose.

  “So you’re going to Friday’s show?” I ask.

  “Yeah, and I managed to snag a GA ticket so I’ll probably show up pretty early.”

  “Me too! It’s my turn to hold our spots; Gabby’s and mine, so I’ll probably be there around five. Hey, I can hold a spot for you too if you like.”

  “I was actually thinking of coming in earlier, like lunch or something like that.”

  I have to laugh. He thinks I’m talking about 5pm, not 5 in the morning. When I clarify my position he agrees to let me hold his place as well. It’s gonna be one long ass day. I'll have to leave the house around three because of the nearly two hour commute to Silicon Valley.

  Dinner is excellent. He’s right about the meat, it is superb. I don’t know how they cook a piece of meat that thick in such a short amount of time and have it cooked all the way through without burning the outside.

  We end up talking about pretty much everything under the sun. Turns out Brand is quite the comedian. There’s not much he can’t turn into something witty. He’s got a very quick wit and has to be very smart. I really should check out his articles on the web; I bet they’re pretty good.

  It’s a quarter to ten when we finally decide to call it a night. For a first date, it rates pretty high on my scale. Although that's not saying much; I’ve had some pretty horrible first dates…and second and third dates… I don’t know if he did this on purpose or not, but us arriving in separate cars eliminates the, at the door, should I kiss him or not drama.

  We’ll just say bye and wave to each other as we walk away. At least that’s how it was supposed to go in my head. Instead he walks me to my car putting the, should I kiss him or not, drama right back into the equation. Damn him.

  “Look,” I say, leaning up against my car door. “I had a pretty great night. Thanks.”

  “Me too,” he replies. “Hey uh…I know it’s kind of forward, but do you think I could come up for a drink?” He asks, pointing to the interior of my car.

  “Always with the jokes...” I say, but I can’t help but smile. See you Friday Brand.”

  “Bye June, drive safe.”

  He watches me as I take off. As I make my way through Berkeley I feel like I’m in this cocoon of warmth and peace. Good food, good wine, and especially good company has put me in my happy place.

  When I get home I turn on some light music and sit on the couch to read. I have no desire to break the mood just yet. I pick up my favorite comedy, The Accidental Therapist. This one is guaranteed to at least put a smile on my face if not make me laugh out loud. I read until my eyes are half- mast and I can’t help from nodding off. I look at the clock on the wall, it’s well past midnight. Reluctantly I turn in. I’m asleep the minute my head hits my pillow.

  Chapter Five

  Backstage Again

  The air is crisp and cool when I take my place in line at HP Pavilion. It’s exactly five in the morning and if my count is correct, I am number 34 in line. Of course that doesn’t account for the people like me who are holding places for friends.

  Lunatic etiquette says I can only hold one additional spot. I’m well aware of the fact that I am fudging a little here, but I know the people on either side of me and they assure me it’s cool to save a spot for Brand, especially after I tell them how cute he is.

  Gabby finally arrives at ten and it’s a good thing too ‘cause I really gotta pee. The second she arrives I know what’s on her mind, it’s written all over her face; in neon letters.
>
  “So how was the date?” She asks in an annoying, singsong voice.

  “Fine…” I purposely deadpan my reaction because I know it’ll bug her to death.

  “Just fine, that’s all? You go to Zebra’s with a totally hot guy and all you can say is fine?” Her face screws up in frustration until she realizes I’m just jerking her chain.

  “It was nice, actually. He was the perfect gentlemen, dressed classy, and the wait staff catered to him like he was a celebrity or something. He says he knows the owners and they owe him favors, but I think it’s more than that. I think he must have done something really great for them or something.”

  “Keep going.”

  “So we talked about everything and we also just sat and enjoyed the food in silence. It was nice, not like an uncomfortable silence. It was like we’ve known each other for a long time or something.”

  “So…you think he’s hot?”

  “Huh, a little off subject, but yeah, I guess.”

  “What do you like best about him?” She asks.

  “He’s got a great person-”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she interrupts.

  “Oh, you mean like body parts?”

  She nods.

  “Fine, his ass, I like his ass.” I admit.

  Her eyes bug out. “And…”

  “What do you mean and? Isn’t that enough that I like his butt. He’s got nice lips too, full, kissable lips…” I trail off. “You’re looking at me weird. What’s going on Gabby?

  Then it hits me.

  “Brand, how long have you been standing behind me?” I ask, turning my head slowly.

  “My ass huh?” He says as he walks around in front of me.

  I cover my face. I can feel the heat burning through my fingers. I must be bright red now.

  “It’s okay,” he says, “I like yours too.”

  Please go away please just disappear, I plead in my head. Damn Gabby, she’s gonna pay.

  I turn to Gabby, giving her my most vicious look. “I gotta pee. I may not be back for a while; I have to wait for my homicidal urge to die down before I can be around you again.”

  Without waiting for her to respond I start walking towards the outhouses. I’m not really all that mad, but I feel like I had to kinda put on a show for Brand less he thinks me easy. I end up wandering around for ten or fifteen minutes before returning.

  Brand has the good grace to not bring it up again, and neither does Gabby. After a few awkward moments we fall into our normal routine of gushing about Fringe and comparing them to all the other metal bands in the known universe. It turns out it's very nice having Brand with us.

  He's a good conversationalist and well educated, so he’s not always making dumb uneducated statements about things. It’s also nice that he has more behind his model good looks than empty space. If I had to guess, I’d say he has a pretty high IQ. Maybe not Mensa high, but high nonetheless.

  Lunchtime rolls around and passes without incidence. Soon I begin watching my clock again. The six o ‘clock hour approaches. That’s when the doors are supposed to open tonight. After everyone else’s friends show up I do a head count. We have fallen from 34 to 56 in line; not too bad I guess.

  We’ve been worse, and we’ve been better. Depending on the set up of the Arena, sometimes it’s better to be ten feet back from the stage. We’re still within the first 300 in line so we’ll get to be in the designated area closest to the stage. While I’m lost in thought I suddenly notice something strange. There’s a guy way up towards the front of the line and he’s working his way down the line towards us. He’s talking to people and holding something in his hands. When he gets a little closer I notice two things. First of all the man is the band’s manager, Stewart, and in his hand he’s holding what looks to be a picture or something.

  I point him out to Gabby and we wait anxiously for him to get to us. Someone must have lost a friend or something and if the band’s manager is in helping it must have to do with a lost kid. This is not a good place to bring a kid and I can’t help but wonder what kind of lunatic would bring their kid to a metal show? When he finally reaches us he looks at me and actually seems relieved.

  “Are you June?” He asks.

  Bewildered, I nod my head. “What's going on here?”

  He looks at me and he looks at the picture in his hands. “You really don’t look much like this photo. No wonder why no one recognized you?”

  “Okay…and the reason you’re looking for me is?”

  “You’ve been invited backstage after the show tonight.”

  I just about fall over in shock. “Could you repeat that, ‘cause it sounded like I’m being invited backstage again after the show?”

  “Oh you’re invited alright. Silas wants to see you.”

  “Really? Silas Mann requested me?”

  “June,” Gabby pleads, “shut up and take the pass!”

  I think for a minute. “Sure, I’ll come, but my two friends have to come with me,” I say, pointing to Brand and Gabby.

  “He only said your name June…” He trails off uncertainly.

  “Me and my friends or I don’t go at all.” I stand my ground firmly. I’m not going to grovel at some rock star’s feet, not even if they're Silas's.

  “He only said your name,” he persists.

  “Do you really want to tell him the reason I didn’t come is because you refused to allow my two friends to come?”

  He thinks for a minute before answering. “Fine. Here’s your pass. I’ll tell the door guards to expect three.”

  “Does he do this often?” I ask. “Inviting girls backstage? Oh, guess you can’t answer that, his first gig was last week.”

  “Actually I can. He’s my nephew, and no, he doesn’t do this at all. I don’t know what bug bit him but he wants to see you so…”

  “Thanks!” I holler as he walks away.

  “OMG!” Gabby screams, literally jumping up and down. “I can’t believe it. I get to go back stage and meet Fringe! I cannot believe it.”

  She gives me the biggest bear hug I have ever felt and I swear my ribs are in danger of breaking before she turns me loose.

  I laugh. “You’re welcome Gabbs.”

  “Really appreciate you sticking up for us June,” says a much more subdued Brand.

  “You guys are my friends, how could I not invite you.”

  “Oh my God, I need to change.” Gabby is getting paranoid now. “I can’t let the band see me wearing this,” she says. She points to her very short skirt. “They’re going to think I’m Amish when they see how long my skirt is,” she complains loudly.

  I look at my own skirt self- consciously. It’s still pretty damn short, just not micro mini short like what Gabby likes to wear.

  “If only we were closer,” she complains bitterly. “Maybe there’s a store open in San Jose?”

  “Uh, hello Gabby, the doors are gonna open any minute. And besides, no store is open anyway at this time. You’re gonna have to burry your face in shame and just go backstage wearing what you’ve got on.”

  She’s just about to launch into yet another tirade when the line suddenly surges forward. Finally they open the doors. In no time we’re inside and hurrying over to the stage. This one is a lot bigger than the one in Arco arena which means even as far back as we were, we’re still going to be up against the stage.

  The three of us end up on the Bassist side of the stage right in front of Lance. Oh well, I don’t need to see Silas right now. I’ll see enough of him backstage. Then a thought occurs to me. Do I really want to see him again?

  What’s the point? It’s not like we want to get to know each other. No way am I ever dating a rock star, no matter what he looks like. And besides, I kinda like where things are going with Brand and I. Don’t really need a third wheel in the equation right now.

  As usual, they play a mix of different metal songs from different bands to keep us entertained until the show is ready to begin. I’ve got Gab
by on my right and Brand on my left, what more could I ask for.

  In between songs we chit chat about different things that come to mind. We have about another hour to kill before the show begins. Now that it's official for Silas, maybe they’ll showcase his talent; give him an extra-long guitar solo or something. At about a quarter after eight the lights are suddenly extinguished and the other music disappears as well. It’s show time.

  I’m so excited I can barely stand still. There’s no energy like the energy in a metal show and I can’t wait for the shot of adrenaline I’m gonna feel the second Silas hits that first chord on Straight Jacket.

  They always open with the song. It’s the fan favorite and the intense energy of the guitars in the beginning really charges everybody up and sets the tone of the whole show. I look around at the eerie glow from the light sticks they hand out at the doors and the various cell phones all raised to capture the band the moment the lights come back on. I add my phone to the mix and look over to my right where Gabby is holding up a light stick in each hand. Her face has been transformed into a rapturous look as she waits to be taken away by Fringe.

  The darkness lasts even longer this time, probably to catch us off guard. They try to do something different in every show so that Lunatics like us always have something new to look forward to.

  Suddenly Silas lays into the first riff and Lance and Marcus follow shortly behind. The effect on the crowd is energizing. We’re all one frenetic mass of moving, gyrating bodies, dancing to the beat of Straight Jacket.

  Instantly I can feel the heavy grind of Silas’s guitar grating in my chest. The feeling is amplified tenfold when Marcus on the drums joins in along with Lance on the bass. When the spotlight finally lights up Sam I can't take my eyes off him. His mastery of his guitar is mesmerizing.

  I remember back when I was taking guitar lessons and how difficult it was. I remember my fingers were raw and aching as I tried to press those tiny little stings down on the fret board enough to make something that at least partially resembles music. I’m sure if I’d have kept at it all I would have to show for it would be callused fingers and not much else.