by Claire Adams
Talon was especially pumped. He was a good kid, and one of the best drummers in the business, but he had gotten into some bad stuff for a while. He had a nature that was easily tempted.
I nodded at Talon, smiling. “Yeah, man; let’s do it.”
Nate started on the bass, strumming the first few measures as we all took in the beat, then Jay and Jeremiah came in on guitar before my brother hit it on the drums. I couldn't help but beam out an ear-to-ear grin. Hearing my newest creation coming to life with the guys I’d always been close to, despite the time and distance away from each other, was a sensation words truly couldn't describe.
When I came in on the vocals, all the pieces finally came together as one, and it sounded as good as it felt. Granted, it was different from our old stuff, but despite this, it still remained true to the heart of our sound. I could feel everyone’s energy merging, and the song started coming together even better than when I had imagined as I was writing it. Some people have different views on what heaven might be like, but at that moment, right there, playing with the band is what it felt like for me.
I looked back at my brother during one of the guitar solos. He had a wild grin on his face as he slammed on the drums, his hair flipping around. He winked at me and nodded. This is some good shit right here, that look said.
My smile widened as I went into the next verse and my energy rose. Playing was such an adrenaline rush for all of us, not just me, and it had been since we had started the band as teenagers. We'd always been in it for the thrill of the music, for the intensity of it, for our shared devotion to the beauty and power of what music could do for the soul. You could just see it in the movements and in the strumming of guitars, in the booming of the bass, in the pounding of the drums. Yes, this was it. We really were back together—maybe even for good this time.
“Hell yeah! Owen, you need to write more new stuff. That was sick as shit!” Talon announced after the last few thumps and the final cymbal crashes on the drums.
“Yeah, well, you make a good muse on occasion, little bro,” I winked at him.
“Well, I can be a bit a…musing.” He flashed me a sly, cheesy grin and followed it up with a quick drum roll and a cymbal crash.
“Jackass,” Jay snorted, chuckling. Aside from being one of the guitarists, Jay and Talon were best friends, always on each other’s asses with snarky and idiotic jokes flying back and forth.
“Whatever, man, you love my ass. Just like the ladies.” Talon flipped sweaty strands of hair out of his face, his green eyes glowing with mischief. “Speaking of ladies, when are we going to get this tour on the road? You said you had our first gig set up in a month, right?”
“Yep, Tal. One month exactly. Then it's on.”
“Hell yeah, man. I’m pumped as shit, seriously pumped!” He was practically bouncing on his stool with excitement. “Open road, tour bus, shows…and chicks, oh yeah, chicks. Can’t forget about that, no, no, no, we cannot forget about them girls.”
There was a collective eye roll amongst the rest of us. Sometimes it seemed as if my brother seriously had a one-track mind. “Just as long as you don’t forget we are in this to play music. You're not on this tour for the sole purpose of fucking your way from coast to coast,” I said. “This is about the music and our fans.”
“Why not both? I can’t help it if ladies love the ‘D.’”
“And there he goes about his dick. I was wondering how soon it would be before that would come up,” Jay shook his head, laughing.
Talon’s eyes narrowed into mischievous slits. “That’s exactly what she said, man.”
“Damn it, Tal,” Jeremiah choked on his beer as the rest of us broke into laughter.
My brother and I were complete opposites. He was outspoken, loud, crude, and ridiculous, while I was more of the stereotypical quiet type, only a bit more intense and definitely a lot more focused. I was the one always keeping the business in mind in addition to the music. It was probably why he got laid more often than any of us on tour the first go around, though. All he cared about was banging the drums, then banging chicks. As long as it kept him happy and off the drugs, we were okay with it. After all, it could have been worse. Indeed, there had been many times when it had been worse...a lot worse.
“So, speaking of touring, and leaving the topic of groupies alone for a bit,” I gave my brother a sideways glance that told him we needed to get down to business. “We have a lot to do before we kick off the tour. I mean, first and foremost, we have to rehearse our asses off. We have a reputation as a band to uphold, and our fans will not be satisfied with second rate, sloppy performances. We have to be tight as shit. We didn't get to the top by messing around and being lazy, so this is no time to start with that shit.
“We have to practice more of the newer songs as well as our old stuff, of course, but there’s also bookings, accommodations, updated gear for the road, promotion, travel plans, sponsors. I mean, we have a few people on that stuff, but we need to go over all those details ourselves as well, just to make sure everything is perfect.”
The others nodded, but not one of the assholes was taking notes. Before, they had relied on me to take care of most of those things, if not all of them. And, I hadn't minded so much, seeing as I had always been a bit of a workaholic. But, unlike before, I now had a Titanic-size business to run on top of everything else. I just couldn’t afford to do it all by myself again, not if I wanted to sleep more than an hour every night. That was part of the reason I’d gotten burnt out on touring the last time.
“How about we do this? Each one of you takes responsibility for a couple of the tasks I've just mentioned, and we can all get that stuff knocked out together,” I suggested. “It'll just be easier, more streamlined, and more efficient like that, and everyone is pulling their weight equally. That's fair, right?”
Grumbles of dissent circled the group along with flimsy excuses. I sighed and couldn't help the sting of anger and frustration bubbling in my core. They surely knew I couldn’t do all of it by myself again. Didn’t they?
“That’s funny, Owe. You think the rest of us are responsible enough to help manage a tour?” Talon cocked his eyebrow, then hit a “da dum tiss” on the drums and hi-hat.
I gave him, and the rest of them, a stone-cold look. “Seriously? You wanna joke about this? You guys all know I can’t handle all of that planning on top of running the record company while we’re touring. It's just physically impossible. Not to mention mentally. I’d lose it. There aren't enough hours in the day. Literally.”
“I know, Mr. Young CEO Slash Rock Star. Sounds like you need another solution aside from depending on us slackers, huh? C'mon, bro, you know us. We're, uh...well, we're just not cut out for that type of shit, you know? I'm good at banging—chicks and drums, mind you—but that's about all I’ve got to bring to the table,” Tal said.
I sighed again, always wary of any solution he came up with. “What exactly do you have in mind, there, little brother?”
“They are called assistants. Ever heard of 'em? Seriously, dude, they not only do all the grunt work, but they also bring you coffee and snacks, and, oh yeah, they generally have really nice asses to look at as they are running off to get your shit done.”
Of course, his solution had to do with bringing a woman into the mix. I wasn't even the least bit surprised. Still, it was a solution worth considering. “I don’t know, man. And why do you just assume I would have to hire a woman? Why can’t we get a male assistant?”
“Um, first off, total sausage fest. There are enough swinging dicks in this room already. I think some feminine company on the road could help keep things in line. Secondly, they just smell better. Plus, they’re just more fun to look at.”
I frowned at him, but I had to admit that he did have a point in terms of getting an assistant. Not necessarily the other stuff, of course. It didn't have to be a woman, and even if it was, it didn't have to be an attractive one. No, efficiency and reliability were my top priorities in
that regard. But yeah, getting an assistant in on the mix really could help to make things go a lot more smoothly for sure.
But at the same time, I hated bringing a stranger into the mix, and a woman at that. There was already the possibility that complications could arise with the band, as they had in times past, and I certainly didn’t want any sort of tension to get between us by adding a new element.
However, there was absolutely no way I could handle managing the tour all by myself. Not even a chance. And with these bozos not being able to do pretty much anything aside from play their instruments and rock out, it was quickly beginning to look like I'd have no other option but to hire somebody, as much as I wasn’t sold on the idea of someone outside our circle handling some of the load. Sometimes, the only solution was the uncomfortable one, and it really didn't seem like there'd be any other way to do this.
I sighed and shrugged my shoulders, conceding to the idea. “Screw it; I guess I’ll make a few calls, see what’s out there. I have a business contact that has a staffing services agency that can probably hook us up,” I said.
“Why don’t you give him a call this afternoon, before we start partying at your place tonight?” Jeremiah suggested.
I supposed there was no time like the present to get the ball rolling.
“Yeah, I think I’ll do that. And no, Tal, we are not getting some groupie-wannabe tour manager just for you to play with. I’m finding someone professional, reliable, organized, and detail-oriented. And if she happens to look like the rear end of a donkey, so be it.
“And before you ask why... It’s so that, as you said in your own words, she can keep you assholes in line. I’m not playing road mom, not again, not this time. Without someone focused and disciplined to hold everything together, this whole thing is gonna fall apart. I refuse to let that happen. Not on my watch. We are not going to disappoint millions of fans out there, not if we can help it. And you guys better remember that.”
“Road mom,” Talon snorted. “You were kinda like that last time. I remember you having to hold Jay’s hair more than a few times while he puked his guts out. My apologies for being too busy puking in the shower to help.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “You two together are like drunken Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb.”
Both of their grins only widened at my comparison. Those two had way too many stories from the road before and would no doubt get their asses into some more trouble this go around. I just hoped, for our sake, this time it wouldn't require any bail money. I'd had enough of postponing gigs because of having to haul those two out of jail cells.
“All right, enough goofing off. Let’s work through a few more songs before we break. We can start with the one Jeremiah wrote.” I tried to bring things back to order.
The others grumbled, albeit jokingly, and we all got back to business mode. We worked through five more songs before calling it quits, then I excused myself and headed to my home office to make that call regarding a tour manager. The phone only rang a few times before a familiar voice picked up.
“Hey, Mike,” I greeted him. “I need your help with something.”
“Owen, good to hear from you, man! Hit me – what do you need?” he asked from the other end of the receiver.
“I need an assistant. Preferably female,” I explained, rattling off the long list of my own qualifications and even a couple Jeremiah had suggested.
I tended to be picky when it came to hiring people to work with in any capacity. I liked to think that was one of the main reasons I’d become so successful. My high expectations made me careful in choosing who to do business with and who I hired to help me run my record company.
“I think I can help you out. I have a few ladies in mind who'd fit your bill. When did you want to set up interviews?” Mike asked after taking in my laundry list of needs.
“How does Monday afternoon sound? Think you can get some candidates together over the weekend?” It was a lot to ask, but I was confident Mike could do it. He’d found me some great talent to work at the record label before on short notice. I’d never worried about him delivering.
“Of course, man. Don’t even sweat it.”
“Perfect. Thanks so much,” I told him. “I’m so ready to get back on tour, but not quite willing to deal with every single aspect of it by myself again. I mean, I really just can't, there is simply way too much to do. And, as usual, the others are not the planning, organized types,” I said just as a belch and laughter came from the other room with perfect timing. I shook my head.
Mike laughed on the other end. “Totally understand. And, you gotta keep those assholes in line, too. Especially that brother of yours and his sidekick. Instigators—that’s what the two of them are. But don't you worry about the admin side of things. I'll find you the perfect person to keep everything under control while you guys do what you do best: rock people's socks off.”
“Exactly. Thanks again, Mike. I really appreciate it. I’ll talk to you later,” I laughed and hung up the phone. He had heard most of the stories from the road during our first stint and knew exactly what I was talking about. And I’m sure having done this before, finding touring assistants for other bands, he knew exactly what to look for.
Still, I couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive. While touring with just dudes sometimes stunk, quite literally, I didn’t want to find myself feeling self-conscious or distracted by a woman during the whole tour. And I certainly didn't want anyone else getting distracted for that matter. Things had to be damn near close to perfect this time around. This was our big comeback tour, and I didn't want anyone to blow it.
Chapter Two
Nalia
“Hey, Nalia, could you pass me a wine cooler?” Grace, my best friend, asked while reaching out a hand and looking over her sunglasses at me with a smile. It was a beautiful day at the beach, and we were there to just lounge and enjoy it—a rare day of just taking in the relaxing atmosphere. I loved San Diego enough to live there, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards. You need more money than I made to be able to afford it. Still, they had the best beaches.
Grace and I had driven down for the day just to relax on the sand, catch a few rays, and listen to the waves. The whole day had been organized and paid for by Grace, since I was currently out of a job. Did I mention she’s my absolute best friend in the world? Without her offering to take care of it, I wouldn’t have been able to come with her today, and I was more than thankful for her generosity.
“Here, you lush,” I teased, handing her a cold bottle. Money had, unfortunately, been scarce since I had been laid off from my position as a personal assistant for a powerful CEO. I suppose when a company is going under, the assistants are the first to go. And, in my case, they let go of me pretty quickly. I didn’t necessarily miss the stressful job and crazy hours, but I was sure missing my paycheck.
I'd been hunting for another job for quite some time, and Grace knew I needed a break from the stress of finding another job. According to her, I was turning into a grouchy bitch and needed a little fun in my life–and she was probably pretty spot on about that. My severance pay had finally dried up, and that meant it was time to get super serious about another job or start panicking, whichever kicked in first. If you asked Grace about which was hitting me at the moment, she’d have said panic for sure.
“You okay?” she glanced at me over her sunglasses again, giving me a look that just dared me to lie.
“Just…wish my music would take off or something. I’m completely broke. Like seriously, I've barely got two pennies to rub together.”
“What you need is a job. Like, ASAP, girl.” She took a sip of her wine cooler and nodded for me to pick up one. I grabbed a bottle and popped it open, taking a sip.
“I don’t want another job like the last one. I swear, my hair started thinning from the stress…and my waist did the opposite. Hell, I have only just managed to get back into my skinny jeans after all the Häagen-Dazs therapy I went through whil
e working for that asshole. I honestly don't think I can do that again. Not like last time. It'll kill me for sure.”
This time, Grace took off her sunglasses, looking me in the eyes. She meant business. Crap.
“Look, I know you’re an amazing musician and you seriously have the voice of an angel, but it’s still really hard to get noticed, even with how exceptional you are. There's just so much competition out there, it's honestly more a matter of blind luck than anything else. And I know...I KNOW you have been trying with open mic and booking small, crappy-paying gigs, but you need to seriously consider a regular job for now.
“I know it breaks your heart to think about it, but we have to be realistic about this. I don't wanna see my best friend lose everything she’s worked so hard for and have to sell off all her possessions on eBay just to put food on the table and keep a roof over her head. Because we both know you won’t let me help you out in the money department like that.”
My head fell back against my rolled up towel. I knew she was right, unfortunately. Breaking into the music business was not for the faint of heart. It was a lot of work with very little payoff, unless you got very lucky, and luck was certainly not something I could count on. It would happen if it happened, but there was a far greater chance of that not being the case. I would probably have had better luck gambling with slot machines in Vegas, to be honest. As it stood, I was desperately lacking in the luck department.
“I just don’t know what to look for. I’ve always done the personal assistant thing, but it just gets so stressful, and I want to do something that will actually help my music career, not take me farther and farther away from my music like the last job did. It kills me to do stuff that forces me to put my music on the backburner.”
Grace emitted a thoughtful “hmm” before taking another sip from her wine cooler. “You know, you could maybe try to find a job at a record label. I mean, they hire office people. Or find a job as a roadie or tour assistant for a band or something, since you love music. There are ways to have a real job while keeping music in the foreground, and that way you might actually meet some people and make some connections who could help you get a foot in the door.”