I was going round and round on the city streets hoping to park close to the coffee shop, but luck was not on my side for parking. I finally managed to take a spot as someone was leaving but several streets over, so my afternoon arrival time was delayed by about fifteen minutes. When I arrived I walked in and was greeted by the employee behind the counter in a very friendly manner. Before I could tell him I was meeting someone he told me that Max was upstairs already. Upward I went and smiled at the idea that Max already alerted the coffee staff of my impending arrival.
Max was deep in thought and writing in a journal as I approached. He wore cool looking silver rimmed reading glasses that he had not worn on stage and a hat that snuggled down covering his ears. He looked so everyday, average, but still very breathtaking in his normalcy. I was surprised as he seemed reserved and not exposed as when he was up the stage last evening with screaming girls surrounding him. He looked simple, still drop dead good looking but he camouflaged it this afternoon with not having a tight tee, tight jeans or the cuff bracelet. He had worn a leather cuff bracelet last evening that he had kissed before raising his hand to the crowd at the end of the show. I wanted to ask him about that gesture but figured I would in time if I saw him do it again in concert. Today, if I didn’t know I was meeting him, the same Max Rand from last night, I would have passed this guy by on a street. His attire was toned down, plain loose black tee with an open buttoned shirt over top, loose and worn and torn jeans and it appeared work boots. I pulled out the chair across from him as he looked up; he was really lost in thought there for the moment.
He paused and then complimented the color of my shirt. I felt the heat as he was staring at my chest. “Madison, wow, you look so warm.”
“I’m not warm, I feel fine.”
“No, I mean your shirt color highlights your dark hair and sends a warm glow. I guess I am stumbling here for something nice to say. But you look good. You’re good looking and you remind me of the warmer days coming.” He also sniffed in the air and said, “You smell good, really good.”
“I guess thank you and thank you, you may make me blush.”
Wow, did he just floor me with a compliment, and he actually smelled my Light Blue fragrance, even though I only applied a trace of it. I felt shifted in my thoughts. I had to gain composure and so I blurted out nervously, “Glad you could meet me so soon.” I spoke in a professional manner trying to sound more and more confident.
He smirked and simply replied “Yeah, sure absolutely.” Sounding just like me last night. He asked how I liked my coffee and took the liberty of ordering some lunch selections since if this went well, he wanted me to head to meet the band so there wasn’t time for food until much later.
We began talking and I explained to him that I was following my dream of writing and had certain pieces that I wanted to complete and put together in a collection. One was to get in depth with a band. Why his band? Well I had heard them play a tune months back called Missing Ash and during the lowest time in my life, I had downloaded it and played it too often as I wrote at home in my writing room. I dared not tell him that, all I said was, “I have heard great chatter about the Rolling Isaac’s.” Also, since they were a local band from Philly. I could easily attend a lot of their shows and perhaps get stories from them to write about.
I drifted in thought for a moment; here I was trying to start a conversation and hearing Thomas in my head telling me that my writings were good, although he never really cared to read them. They weren’t making him the big bucks in the corporate world so he just seemed to pass me over. But I had been so in love with him, perhaps I should have ignored my passion of writing and been more in tune with him.
“Madison, hey come back”…Max was seeking my reply. I jumped as he lightly touched my hand as it lay near my untouched coffee. It felt comfortable, safe and he kept fingers on top of my hand.
“You zoned on me, where did you just go?” He asked. I apologized to him as I slid my hand out and took a sip of coffee. I told him that I drift often into thoughts that take me away for a moment but not thoughts I want to stay in.
I started the conversation explaining that if I wasn’t going to be an intrusion or bother tagging along with them, I wanted to cover them and get some real raw, natural experiences of the band. The talent, their hopes, and what they gave up to have their dreams. I told him it could be for a few months or longer but that would depend on if it became bothersome for me to be with them. I knew they played in Philly often but knew they traveled about as well. I told him the travel wouldn’t be a problem and would be at my own expense. In between my speaking with him I managed to take in some bites of food, but I was still nervous. I felt like I was on a first date. I was trying to settle myself and continued to tell him some of my story.
My husband Thomas made a lot of money and he thought to leave me a nice divorce settlement. He did this despite saying that we would never be over. I guess his leaving me for someone else helped him to not have the guilt of carrying on an affair and staying married. I think he felt that he could try out this new woman and if it didn’t work then he would have me in the wings. I lived a simple life so the monetary agreement would surely carry me far. But I didn’t tell Max any of this, I just looked into the dark blue eyes that I had dreamt of and was stunned that they were the same blue as in my dream. I told him I was in a position to do my own travel and would not be any burden to them. I did then produce for him several pieces of writing that I published in the past from being a column writer for years at the city paper and then to a few books that were out on the shelves of several bookstores. None were best sellers, but to me, humble accomplishments. I had so many confidence steps to climb in my life now but I think I was feeling like I was on the second step.
Max glanced at the portfolio of items I brought supporting my occupation and smiled. He said, “I know exactly who you are, I followed your weekly column. You wrote the editorial piece a few years ago supporting bands. It highlighted a new, up and coming band, our band the Rolling Isaac’s.” Max continues “I still have the clipped article someplace back on The Wall. That’s what we call it where we rehearse and where the band tacks up our memorabilia. You should see this wall it’s freaking awesome!” He flashed me a devilish smile and said. “Slapped all over are new items about us, photos of our loved ones, and many we have loved and left the next day.”
I shook at that last statement; I had been drawn in by his keepsake of the article, but then stunned by the morning after thought. Thomas had left me the morning after, left me after ten years. I had been so caught up in him that I lost me.
I could feel his eyes, warmth focused in on me and I moved around in my seat. As we talked I couldn’t help thinking about the other girls. I was trying to convince him to let me follow the band, but I knew I was different from them. I knew that I was about eight years older than Max Rand. Nothing that he said or did made me feel old, but that was just one way I was different than the rest of his followers.
“What the hell, a pretty, smart lady asks to write about me and the band, I say yes, and you can start by calling me Rand. I’m done with hearing the girls scream “Max”. I tune them out. You though Madison I would listen to. It also gets confusing with me being Max and my Uncle Maxwell. Rand makes it easier. So I say, it’s a go,” Max said.
“Then Rand it is, thank you.” I cheerfully sounded, and I nodded to agree.
After a few more bites of food from Rand’s lunch selections, I started to ramble a bit. I paused only when he would eat as I followed the food to the edges of his lips. I was getting easily distracted, but then I calmed myself and told Rand a little about why I was pursuing this project now. I explained that I’d been through a painful divorce and I was beginning a new chapter in my life. I offered little in the way of details, hoping to make it clear I didn’t want to revisit this subject. I needed to take a moment in my life to recapture my dream and goals and was hopeful that he could help me with that. I talked innocently to
him about losing love and wanting to fill my days now with work and keep busy – that love wasn’t something for me anymore. Rand looked and closed his eyes for a moment and there was something else that appeared in the blue when he reopened them, something in his thoughts but I didn’t press. He knew I sought out approval for this venture with them, so he again said it was no problem.
Rand said, “Madison, all of us hurt and have been cut deep. We look for a new start, if we can ever find it.” I wasn’t sure where that part of our conversation was heading but he smiled warmly at me.
“Ready? Let’s go” he said and grabbed my hand and tucked his journal under his other arm. I felt his fingers just hold the edges of my first three fingers lightly. He never paid a tab, but left a large bill under my unfinished coffee cup. He led me down the steps, waved goodbye to the staff, and we walked out to the black Hummer parked in the very front space. He released my fingers very slowly, in a way that made me shiver. I reached in my portfolio case and pulled out my voice recorder and hit record. I began to say with excitement in my voice, “This is the start of my writing Rock Notes.” He opened the door for me, as he walked to the other side, in my whisper voice that began to shake on my recorder; I added “OMG!”
We drove about forty five minutes to where they had their space to rehearse. It was out in the suburbs of the city, in Bucks County. As we pulled up onto the location I stared at the oversized, completely redone barn. It was a sight to take in. I had seen many old barns, but this has a modern twist to its exterior. The architecture was beautifully done, not where I expected a band would rehearse. There were several acres of cleared, rolling green property that surrounded it and there was a custom built home off in the corner. It was such an awesome home; it looked like something from that television show on HGTV would have built. I wondered if their rehearsals were a nuisance to the neighbors. When I questioned him on it, he simply replied that he knows the owner and the owner never complains. We had exchanged brief conversation in the car, mostly about how much mileage does the Hummer get, weather and stupid, yes stupid, conversation topics from me. I had blundered through the conversation, but most of the unspoken communication came from Rand. He often glanced over at me and smiled, just simply smiled. I put music on and when it was their music on his playlist I said stupidly, “This is a great tune.” Again, Rand flashed me his simple smile, not telling me how dumb I was coming across.
When we pulled into the open area to park in front of the barn, he told me to wait. He came around and opened the Hummer door for me. Thomas had not done this in years; I always let myself out of my side. It was such a nice gesture from Rand and the start of our business together and I hoped that the band would be as comfortable and welcoming to me.
Where do I begin? The band, all too charming, and hot looking, not as charming as Rand, and definitely not the heat of Rand’s looks, but they were like a band of brothers to one another. Don’t get me wrong, they talked up their stories of the girls they won and tossed. Yes tossed, and their words pitted in my stomach but I knew I had to suppress that and be calm. Rand even said, “Madison, good luck with us, you may not like us, other days you may, but don’t fall for any of us, we’re dysfunctional.”
“Who’s not functional?” was shouted by one of the band members from behind us. That gave us all cause to laugh and then I then began to meet each of the band members.
Introductions began with none other than Isaac; the person the band was named after. He was a local to the Philly area, and from what I had seen one incredible guitar player. I was introduced to him as my front row.
I asked, “Why was I named that?”
“Rand saw you in the front row of our show and he never took his eyes off you.” Isaac’s answer tugged at my heart.
Isaac seemed to be the loudest of the members and oh so ready to party. He already had a few girls waiting for him. Hoping for a kiss and that he might stay with them. I’m not sure if he needed this attention as he was a confident guy. My first take on Isaac was he was the life of any party.
I was talking with him about what I do for a living, and Rand came and tugged at him for a moment. Rand said something to him and then Isaac replied, “Hell yes, to the front row chick.” Just like that, I was approved to follow along with them.
The other members then came over and were introduced to me. Next I spoke with Raeford who played the drums. He was from the Midwest, Decatur, Illinois. He was the silent one of the band I was told, and he looked so much like Usher. Rand had filled me in that Raeford brought the funk and soul to some of their songs. To me, he seemed mysterious, quiet but when I saw him on the drums the evening before he went off, so I knew he had another side.
I was introduced to Ron and Kent last. Ron was their keyboard player, wearing sunglasses indoors – in the evening. I wasn’t sure what that was about but he was very friendly. Ron welcomed me aboard and told me he was from the south. He had a slight southern drawl and was very kind. Kent was from upstate in Pennsylvania, from a small town called Clarkes Summit and he was the bass player. He was the most muscular, or should I say overly muscular, he would intimidate any person at a gym. He was very solid and fit and had a shaved head and a few piercings. He said he was destined for the military until he met up with these guys and music took over. As Kent approached me, he did not hesitate to pick me up and twirl me about and then he planted, yes planted, solidly a kiss right on my lips. I was shocked for the moment and they all laughed and he released me. The only one who seemed annoyed was Rand. He shook his head “no” to Kent and then Kent smirked at him as he simmered in his joyous greeting.
Rand told the rest of the band that I was going to write about them and to be themselves and pretend I wasn’t there so I could capture them raw and real as much as possible. Rand then took me over to an area that was the loft of the barn, completely furnished with sofas and chairs and a bar that overlooked their practice stage area. As he left to head down to practice he said “Madison there’s beer, help yourself and get writing. I believe it will be very interesting.”
I pulled out my voice recorder and spoke into it a lot of my initial thoughts. I also pulled out my portfolio and laptop and began to type and type. The title read alone on a full page – Rock Notes. The band practiced for several hours, I periodically got up and stretched. I turned away and decided to help myself to a beer, well a few in the timeframe and then I walked over behind the sofa area to see The Wall up close and personal. This was amazing; it was huge and had a backdrop on it like a brick wall. I scanned over all the contents and in the center was the band’s name, Rolling Isaac’s and in each area of the wall a band member had a large area of their name and keepsakes. I saw Rand’s area and there were photos of him with many, many young girls. So many photos of him with his microphone, on his knees singing and it looked like he was on the verge of crying. Next to one of these photos was a beautiful photo of a girl, so model like in looks. She had dark hair similar to his in color and shoulder length like his. She also had the most beautiful blue eyes. Next to this picture, were words signed by Rand, it read, I will forever love you Ashley. It took my breath away for a moment and I thought that perhaps this was the love of his life. Maybe it went bad, or perhaps they were still together, although I wasn’t about to ask.
I saw many newspaper clippings and articles about all of them posted all over The Wall. I searched to see if my column was there and it was. I reread what I had written several years ago and I was surprised at the end of the article to see a circle around my name. Yes, just below my column photo, there was a definite circle around just my name, Freelance Columnist – Madison Tierney.
It was a good piece of writing if I say myself and it brought the band a lot of attention. I had done research on different bands in the city and had listened to their earlier music and critiqued it and wrote a piece about their sound and their following, although I never met them. So here I was now after meeting them, and I smiled that here I was a piece of their famous W
all.
Throughout their rehearsal I caught many moments of Rand staring at me. He was singing and it felt as if he was driving his voice right through me. I was always a fan of Rock music and when Rand began to sing a slow ballad, I was unable to move, I felt weak as it tore me up. It was about love lost and the emptiness you undergo and time spent on love that was gone in a moment. I wasn’t sure if he had glanced my way then to see the tears in my eyes but I hoped he hadn’t because I didn’t want him to think I was that pathetic. Love lost was definitely where I was. He glanced up to me in the loft as soon as he finished the final melody, adding another verse without anyone playing the music. It was then that I turned away with tear filled eyes and I walked over to choke down another beer hoping to dissolve the lump in my throat.
As their evening rehearsal, or should I say early morning rehearsal came to a close, he headed up to me in the loft area. Some of the band guys had earlier invited some of their friends which were girls, to come hang out near the stage during their rehearsal. I stayed up in the loft the entire time away from them putting some of my thoughts to notes. I was watching Rand as he had stopped, yet again, to kiss another pretty young girl and patted her on the ass.
When he reached me I said, “So are you spreading the love?”
He replied, “Madison, I have no love, I just make them feel good. Actually, I feel nothing.” He said, “I lost love for anything long ago.” I felt bad for starting this conversation and told him I was sorry for the intrusion into his personal life. I had a few too many beers and I know I tend to get all curious and weepy when I drink. I gathered my belongings and then he pulled my hand toward him but I wasn’t certain where we were going. I thought we’d go back to get my car in the city, but then he said, “Madison, come with me,” in a serious, sexy tone. A few girls were hooking up with some of the band members. Isaac was loud in shouting out to two girls that they were both for him this morning. Rand never said goodbye to them, he just waved a hand up and we walked from the loft to outside into the morning darkness and then down the path toward the house just beyond.
Rock Notes (Book One of the Heartbeat Series) Page 2