Another Miserable Love Song

by Brooke Carter

  We ate the last of our pancakes with gusto, inspired by Jamie’s courage and newfound excitement for the future. I didn’t tell him about the ring in my dad’s note, but I figured there was a time for everything.

  Chapter Four

  At our next gig we took pity on the band that opened for us, an all-boy emo group named SOFTFOCUS, and we shared our beer. A couple of them were kind of cute, and Dolly went a little nuts for their singer, Damien. She started drawing intersecting Ds on her arm in black lipstick. He seemed into her too, and they disappeared into the gear room together several times over the course of the night.

  After our show, I wanted to blow off steam and do some more drinking, so we all lingered at the bar after hours with Damien and the drummer from SOFTFOCUS, a shaggy-haired guy named Adam.

  Adam had this sweet way of peeking at me from under his bangs. He didn’t exactly try to hide his admiring glances, which I found endearing, but he was still pretty shy. He made me feel like some sort of exotic creature that he was coveting.

  Dolly and Damien were sucking face, Jelly was sleeping in the van outside, LeeLee was hanging with me and Adam, and Jamie was going over the set list from the show we had just done. He was noting mistakes and changes he wanted to make later on. I knew that after everyone else was asleep, he’d want to go over it all again. I smiled to myself. He was so passionate.

  Jamie looked up from across the room and saw me smiling at him. He seemed surprised, and then he cracked his usual disarming grin. That was my Jamie, slaying everyone.

  “What?” he mouthed at me, drowned out by the music.

  I just shook my head and smiled.

  I saw him get up and go to the bathroom, taking his leather hip pack with him. He always had it, and even though we didn’t talk about it, I knew why. It contained his medication, the stuff he was using during his transition. He seemed so much happier, so much more like himself now.

  After a while I was alone with Adam, and somehow his hand was up my shirt and his mouth was all over me. I found myself daydreaming while he touched me, and I couldn’t get Jamie’s smile out of my head. Every time I pictured him, I’d get a little rush of excitement. It was hot—and confusing.

  Later that night Jamie was nowhere to be found, and the other girls had crashed out in the van. I tried to wait up for him but fell into a deep sleep.

  I dreamed about my mother. I had told my friends she left when I was a baby, but that wasn’t true. She left when I was a kid. I think she had some better idea for her life. Dad told me she had a lot of problems, but I didn’t care. She still left. I couldn’t forgive that.

  Chapter Five

  Over breakfast at our next stop, Jamie wouldn’t meet my gaze. I raised my eyebrows at Dolly, who just shrugged.

  Dolly wasn’t her usual upbeat self. She just picked at her sausage.

  “You okay?” I asked her.

  She nodded. “Just not hungry. Hung over, I guess.”

  “So what’s next?” I asked, expecting Jamie to chime in with our itinerary. He remained silent.

  “Uh,” said LeeLee, filling in the silence, “we have a pretty big gig at the university tonight. Big crowd. Sold out. Should be awesome.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Jamie, do you want to go over the set list?”

  Jamie gave me a withering stare. “Why?” he asked. “You seem to have everything figured out just fine.” He pushed his plate away and got up to leave.

  “What the hell?” I asked after he was gone.

  I looked at Dolly and LeeLee and Jelly, who just stared at me.

  “You know,” LeeLee said gently, “for a sensitive person, you don’t have a lot of insight.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Hello? He’s in love with you. Always has been, always will be.”

  It was like someone stopped the great big turntable in the sky at that exact moment and the world stood still. Jamie in love with me?

  “Um, excuse me, guys,” I said and got up from the table.

  As I walked outside toward Jamie, who was leaning against the van reading, I started to get kind of mad. It was just like Jamie to be angry with me for something I didn’t even know about.

  I walked up to him expecting a fight, but when I got closer I could see that he was crying. His eyes looked bluer than I had ever seen before, and the sight stopped me in my tracks.

  He hastily wiped his eyes.

  “Kallie,” he said, “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t have any right to think you were mine. But when I saw you with that drummer, Adam, the other night, I just flipped out. I even went around punching things.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I just wish you had chosen maybe a bass player or something,” he said. “Not another drummer. Not one who’s better than me. Not one who has a…you know.”

  “Oh,” I said quietly. This was making a lot more sense. I took a step forward, and he leaned back against the van, wary of what I might say.

  “First of all,” I said, “Adam is not the better drummer. You are. Second, he was nice, but I was drunk that night. One-time thing.”

  I reached over and took his hand and brought it up to my lips. I kissed his knuckles, and he gasped.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered.

  “Finding out for sure,” I said.

  I stepped forward, pressing my body against his. I felt him tense up and then relax as I took his face in my hands. I lifted my lips to his and kissed him.

  It wasn’t amazing. It wasn’t fireworks. It wasn’t like the movies. But it was right. Kissing Jamie felt so, so right.

  When I pulled away, his eyes were still closed. “Wow,” he whispered.

  “How do you like me now?” I asked.

  He smiled. “I love you, Kallie.”

  “You know this is a bad idea, right?” I asked. “The drummer and the lead singer hooking up?”

  “Whatever,” he said. “Maybe it’s the best thing we ever did.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, maybe it is.”

  I slipped my hand into his and pulled him back toward the restaurant. I was hungry.

  After we ate, Jamie and I sat nestled in the booth, nursing a couple of coffees. He kept one hand on my knee while he checked his phone for social-media updates or other news about our band.

  Truthfully, I was kind of blissed out on my new boyfriend.

  “Oh no,” I said, realizing something.

  “What?” asked Jamie.

  “What if I can’t write any good songs now?”

  “What do you mean?” He frowned.

  “I’m happy, so maybe I can’t write rock songs now. Our music is about pain, right?”

  Jamie laughed. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

  Jamie was a really sweet boyfriend. He was always holding doors open for me and giving me the pickles off his burger and stuff like that. After I confessed to him that I’d never received a valentine from a boy, he went out to a dollar store late at night, scored several of those kids’ packs of valentines and addressed each and every one of them to me. There must have been a hundred of those things. He hid them in my backpack, in my clothes, around the van, in my gear. It was like his own sweet version of an echo. Every time I opened something, I would find one, or it would flutter out of nowhere, a sweet little card with teddy bears and hearts drawn on it.

  For a little while everything seemed right with the world.

  Chapter Six

  “I’ve got some great news,” said Jamie. “A manager named Mike Michaelson contacted us and wants to meet up. He secured us a gig at the Ballroom, no finder’s fee. This could be it, Kallie.”

  “Wow,” I said. This was crazy timing. “That’s great.”

  “The booker fronted us fifty percent of our fee. A thousand bucks. That’s the biggest payout yet. I think we should get ourselves into a hotel. And make it a nice one. Maybe order room service. It’s been a long time since we had a decent meal, and you are all getting too skin
ny.”

  We laughed.

  “Sounds good,” I said. Honestly, I needed a rest. I had been burning out for a while, and with all the drama I was starting to crash. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. The new big gig and interest from a manager was exciting, but it was also a lot of pressure.

  As soon as we signed with Mike, Jamie had us in the van and on the way to a studio to record. Our band pulled up to a large brick building, and we tumbled out. We had started to unload our gear when Mike popped his head out of the heavy metal door on the side of the building.

  “Hey!” he called. “We’ve got all that in here. Dolly, LeeLee, just bring your guitars. Jamie, bring your snare and your sticks if you want. Anj, Misery, we’ve got everything you need.”

  I kind of liked how Mike insisted on calling me Misery, but I could tell that it kind of bugged Jamie. He rolled his eyes at me.

  “Come on, Misery,” said Jamie. “Destiny awaits.”

  The girls grabbed their guitars and Jamie his sticks, and we went in through the heavy door.

  It was like walking into a musician’s wet dream. There was a soundproof studio, set up with every instrument we could need, and a full control panel and editing station that we couldn’t possibly hope to understand. The place was decorated with endless posters, autographs, handbills and vintage vinyl records. My dad would have loved it there. I felt a pang of loneliness for him but decided it was best to just suck it up and get the most out of the experience, for his sake. After all, he had said I should live loud.

  Mike motioned to a shabby-looking couch, and we all plopped down and waited.

  A few seconds later a short fellow with a receding hairline came out of a side room and hurried toward us.

  “Hey,” he said. “I’m Johnny Pop. Nice to meet you. Why don’t you guys go get set up and we’ll get some levels, okay?”

  I nodded, pretending I understood what the hell he was talking about, and went to follow the band into the main room.

  “Misery. You’re in there,” he said, pointing to a small soundproof booth next to the main studio. “The singer’s closet,” he said.

  That was weird. I had never sung separately from the band before. I wasn’t sure I could do it without them.

  “But,” I said, feeling the nerves kick in, “we play live. I mean, I always sing with them. How will I hear?” As soon as I said it, I knew it was a rookie’s question.

  Johnny, to his credit, did not try to make me feel like an amateur. He simply held up a pair of headphones for me to take. I was liking him more and more.

  “You’ll be able to hear them, and me and yourself, with these,” he said. “Don’t worry—it will feel strange at first, but you’ll get the hang of it.”

  “Oh,” I said, taking the headphones.

  I opened the booth and stepped inside. I was expecting it to feel like a shower or something, but it was actually really cozy and calming.

  Johnny opened the door and adjusted the mic for me so that it was level with my face.

  “Here,” he said, producing a silver flask. “This will warm you up. Just don’t make it a habit, okay? Not good for the throat.”

  I grinned and took a swallow. It was good. I went to give it back to him, but he motioned for me to keep it. So I did.

  He shut the door, and a few seconds later the lights inside dimmed. I placed the headphones on and heard a faint crackle, then the sound of Johnny’s voice.

  “How you doing, Misery?”

  “Good,” I said, leaning toward the mic.

  “Don’t lean in—don’t strain. Just be natural, and the booth will capture it. All right now, Misery. The band is ready. In a moment you’ll hear me count them in, and then they’ll start the track. You come in on your cue.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  After a moment I heard Johnny count down from five, and then I heard the sharp crack of Jamie’s sticks against the snare. A second later I heard Dolly and LeeLee join in. After that Jelly began her melody. Wow, it sounded incredible. So incredible that I got wrapped up in listening and missed my cue.

  “Cut!” Johnny’s voice came in and the music stopped. “Misery, you okay?”

  “Y-yeah, sorry,” I said. I took another drink. “I’m good now. Let’s go.”

  Another take kicked off, followed by another screwup by Yours Truly.

  After yet another failed attempt, I heard Jamie’s voice. “Hey, can we try something?” he asked.

  “Sure,” said Johnny.

  “Hey, Kallie,” said Jamie. “Let’s do ‘The Way Things Used to Be.’ What do you say?”

  “The Way Things Used to Be” was a new song Jamie and I had been working on. It was about my mom, and even though the band had been tinkering with it, I hadn’t fully opened up and sung the whole thing through yet.

  “Okay,” I said.

  Then I understood why Jamie thought it was a great idea. The song started and ended with me. The band came in after I sang the first line. Clever Jamie, always looking out for me.

  “Um, Johnny, I start on this one,” I said into the mic.

  “Great, Misery. I’ll count you down and then you start.”

  “Okay,” I said and took a deep breath. I needed full lungs for this one. It was epic in volume, and it was a song that took a lot out of me, both vocally and emotionally.

  I heard Johnny count down, and then I opened my mouth and sang. After I finished, there was a moment of silence, and then I heard a quiet “wow” come through the headset. It was Johnny.

  “Okay?” I asked, breathless.

  “Goose bumps, baby,” said Johnny. “Now I’ve got to get the parts from the other players and put it together. We might need to come back and loop over some spots later, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said. “Can I come out?”

  “You bet. Come watch the magic.”

  I exited the booth and saw Mike staring at me with dollar signs in his eyes.

  I watched through the studio window as Jamie adjusted the drum kit. He looked up and gave me a thumbs-up and his dazzling smile.

  I smiled back and blew him a kiss of luck. He pretended to grab it and placed it on his cheek. He was so cute, it was disgusting.

  “Ah, I see,” said Johnny, not unkindly. “Romeo and Juliet.”

  “More like Sid and Nancy, minus the heroin,” said Dolly as she exited the room.

  “Neither,” I said. “Dallas Winston and Cherry Valance.”

  Mike raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know them.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Johnny. “Outsiders! Patrick Swayze’s my jam,” he explained.

  It was official—I really, really liked Johnny. I sat down next to him in the booth.

  “What’s next?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m going to get Jamie to play that same track again, and I’m going to lay down the drum track. He’ll have to play to a click so we can get a tight base to work from.”

  “A click?” I asked.

  “Like a metronome,” explained Mike. “As the drummer, he needs to be perfectly in time or else it will be impossible to mix together the other tracks properly. It won’t sound right.”

  “Ah,” I said. “Is that hard?”

  Johnny nodded, fiddling with controls. “It can be very challenging,” he said. “Especially for drummers who are not classically trained and who are used to playing live.”

  Uh-oh, I thought. That sounded like Jamie. He was totally self-taught.

  “Well, couldn’t we just record our live sound?” asked Dolly.

  “Yes, you could,” said Johnny. “But it’s better to do a studio album. It’s the difference between Nirvana Unplugged and In Utero.”

  I watched as Jamie adjusted his headphones and got ready. Johnny counted him down and Jamie had no sooner gotten started than Johnny yelled, “Cut,” and he had to start again. That happened at least five times in a row.

  I cringed. I could tell Jamie was getting frustrated. He was a perfectionist. There wasn’t anything I could d
o to help him, so I just had to watch and wait. After what seemed like an eternity, Jamie managed to get midway through the song. Then he got three-quarters of the way through. By the time he managed to play through to the ending, the other girls were asleep on the couch and I was ready to find a new profession.

  “Is it usually like this?” I asked Johnny.

  He laughed. “Not as glamorous as you thought, hey? Well, that’s the gig. It’s a long process, but it’s worth it. Wait until you guys hear the completed track. Don’t worry—the rest will go quicker now that we have the drums down.”

  “Okay, guys, why don’t you go grab some food and take a break. I’ll have an early mix for you soon. It won’t be fully mastered, but at least you’ll have something to think about.”

  “Thanks, Johnny,” I said.

  “Yeah, thanks,” said Jamie. “It has been a real honor to work with you. I really learned a lot.”

  “Hey, no problem, kid. Watch out, or you’ll give me a fat head.” Johnny reached out and shook Jamie’s hand.

  “Mike, you coming?” Dolly called as we filed out to the van.

  “No, sweetheart, I’m going to stay and work on this with Johnny.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “We’ll bring you back a doggie bag,” said LeeLee.

  As we walked to the van, I felt like I was floating on air. That was intense. It was awesome. I could tell everyone else was feeling it too, because no one could stop grinning. “Where to?” Jamie asked.

  “Steak,” said Jelly.

  “Japanese,” said Dolly.

  “Salad,” said LeeLee.

  “Whatever,” I said. “Food. And something to drink.” And then I remembered I still had Johnny’s flask.

  “Hang on a sec,” I said to Jamie as I popped out of the van. “I have to return this.”

  I ran back to the studio, a chorus of groans and complaints floating after me.

  I opened the door and walked in. Mike and Johnny were at the controls, having a heated discussion.

  “Look, Mike, I think you’re being rash. Yes, the kid had trouble with the click track, but he’s got talent. Don’t ruin it by getting greedy.”