Best Of Everything

by R. E. Blake

  Chapter 18

  Melody hits town with the force of a hurricane making landfall. She arrives at the apartment in hooker heels and a cloud of cheap floral perfume. Her youthful exuberance gives the straining fabric of her white jeans a run for their money. We hug, and she drops her carry-on next to the sofa and plops down with an expectant look.

  “Where are the chocolates?” she asks.

  “Oh. Crap. I’ve been so busy…”

  “I come to town and you don’t have chocolates? Girl, what is going on in that head of yours?”

  “Come on. We’ll go to the store right now. It’s only a block away.” I eye her shoes. “Assuming you can make it in those.”

  “Aren’t they bitchin’? I got them yesterday. I won’t even tell you what they cost.”

  “They charge by the inch?”

  “Don’t be hating on me when I just land, baby. But you have a good point. Let me change into some shorts and flip-flops.”

  She goes to the bedroom and emerges a minute later in a pair of cutoffs guaranteed to stop traffic. Her warm brown skin and endless legs are stunning even in a town filled with spectacular females.

  “Why is it that no matter what you wear, you look awesome? Do you practice?” I ask in a kind of awed hush.

  “Genetics. But don’t worry. Some boys go for that skinny white chick thing. Like what’s-his-name.”

  “Suddenly you can’t remember Derek’s name?”

  “Right. He’s off the market, so he’s dead to me.”

  “I thought you were off the market, too.”

  “I guess we’ll see about that. It’s one of the reasons I’m in town. I want to spend some time with Sebastian and see where his head’s at.”

  “I have a feeling I know where it’ll be at about ten seconds after he sees you in that outfit.”

  “Such a dirty mind for such an impressionable young girl. You absolutely need a balancing influence once you go on tour. Have you considered how much you’ll pay me to keep you out of trouble?”

  “I’m still running the numbers,” I say. The last couple of calls she’s been not-so-subtly hinting that she’d like to go on the road with me. While it would undoubtedly be a blast, I’m not sure the West Coast is ready for the Melody Effect on the road, much less the label’s insurance rider.

  “Well, I’m a hot property, so don’t wait too long or I’ll have other obligations.”

  “Save that line for Sebastian.”

  She sits across from me. “Have you seen him lately?”

  “No. He’s cutting a record. And I’ve been super busy.”

  “We should stop by.”

  “That’s probably not a hot idea. He doesn’t like distractions when he’s working. Besides, aren’t you going to see him tonight?”

  Her eyes dart to the side. “Probably.”

  “Have you talked to him? Does he even know you’re here?”

  She brightens. “Oh, yeah, of course. It’s just…it’s like you said. He’s not sure about his schedule.”

  My heart sinks for her. I don’t know what’s happened, but Melody’s mood is completely different than the love-struck girl who was here just a few weeks ago. I want to dig more, but she doesn’t seem like she wants to talk about it, so instead I stand. “Let’s go get candy.”

  “Always a good idea.”

  It’s late afternoon and a balmy late fall day in Southern California. An uninterrupted parade of luxury cars glides by as we walk down the street in the fading sun, the air dry from the Santa Ana winds.

  Our trek turns into a slow amble through the neighborhood, window-shopping as we eye expensive junk. We come to a boutique that specializes in retro garb. Melody squeals when she sees the display and insists we go in.

  Half an hour later she’s tried on half the store, but reality intrudes every time she considers the price tags, and we wind up leaving a frustrated saleswoman with a pile of clothes. On the way out Melody stops at a rack with a dozen hats on it. She selects a formless black felt one and insists I give it a go. I reluctantly pull it onto my head – if a fedora had sex with a ski cap, this is what its offspring would look like – but Melody insists it’s exactly what I need. At sixty bucks it’s about six of what I need, but she won’t listen and practically drags me to the register as I fish for the folded wad of twenties in my jeans.

  We eventually return to the apartment with a half-eaten bag of Reese’s, me sporting my new hat and my gangsta shades, and I consider my reflection in the entry mirror as we wait for the elevator to arrive. The hat looks funky, like I belong in an old Zig-Zag cigarette paper ad from the sixties, and I decide Melody might not be completely blind when it comes to fashion. I like it a lot more than the garbage the label fashion designer came up with, although that’s not saying a lot.

  “So you’re coming to rehearsal tonight, right?”

  “Yeah. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she says, but sounds distracted as she checks her phone.

  “You’ll probably want to wear some actual clothes, though. It’s all dudes except for me. If you show up like that, they won’t remember what song we’re playing.”

  She issues an exaggerated sigh. “Sometimes it’s a curse being me.”

  “Yes. A shy example of budding womanhood, wasn’t that what you said?”

  “If I didn’t, I meant to.”

  “Any word from Sebastian?”

  “No. You know how he is when he’s in the studio. I expect I’ll hear from him later.”

  I let that go and get ready for rehearsal – which in this case means use the bathroom to make sure I don’t have chocolate smeared all over my face – and grab my jacket. Melody’s lying on her bed trying to get her jeans zipped, and I watch the struggle with amusement. She eventually wins the contest, and I wonder at how she can wear clothes that look painted on every day and not feel self-conscious.

  She twirls around with her arms to the side like she’s doing a personal fashion show, and I shake my head.

  “Very nice. The boys are sure to be impressed.”

  “It’s always nice to be admired,” she says with a wink. “Even if I am saving myself for Sebastian.”

  I can’t help it. I snort and we both laugh at the innocent expression on her face.

  “That’s right. I keep forgetting you just escaped from the convent,” I say.

  “I read an article in one of my magazines about the new virginity.”

  “Was it science fiction?”

  “See? That’s the kind of negative attitude that’s hurting you in life. You have to embrace new experiences and be open to new ideas.”

  “I’m as open-minded as the next person, but if you can sell that one, you missed your calling. You could make millions in real estate or something.”

  “The article said it’s all mental.”

  “Did it mention levitation or unicorns?”

  We both crack up and I glance at my watch. “Come on. It’s about a ten-minute ride to the studio.”

  I call the cab company, which is by now used to my nightly taxi request, and the dispatcher assures me that a car will arrive within five minutes. Melody squirts another few gallons of her perfume on for good measure, and we descend in the elevator and watch the sun set as we wait for our ride.

  “You totally need to get a car, Sage.” She shakes her head. “You live in the land of car worship. I can’t believe you’re still taking taxis.”

  “I know, but I usually walk everywhere.”

  “What? Come on. Even the homeless people have cars in L.A.,” she teases, and then her face freezes when she remembers that not too long ago I was one of them.

  “Don’t worry. We don’t have a union or anything. I know I’m a big loser. I’ve been meaning to go in and get my license, but I haven’t made it yet. And I’ll be off on tour pretty soon, so it hasn’t been a big priority…”

  “I suppose I could get used to having limos drive me around. That’s so going to be your life soon. Princess Sage, rock
goddess. I can see why you wouldn’t want to trouble yourself with automobiles.”

  I roll my eyes. “I wish. More like I’ll be taking the bus again if this doesn’t work out.”

  She smirks. “At least you’ve got a bitchin’ hat. Which you wouldn’t have bought if I hadn’t guilted you into it. I know what a cheapskate you are.”

  “I do like it. Maybe it’ll bring me luck.”

  “Like you need any more.”

  I think of Derek all the way in New York and give her a sad smile.

  “Never hurts to hope, right?”

  Chapter 19

  Rehearsal goes well, and Melody’s clearly impressed, although she’s checking her phone compulsively, which makes me feel sorry for her. Whatever is – or rather, isn’t – going on with Sebastian has her flustered, although nobody else would notice. The band’s suitably impressed in turn by her, and it’s clear by the end of the set that if she wants some new friends, she’s come to the right place.

  During a break we go outside, and she glances at her phone for the fiftieth time in as many minutes. I ignore it and take a drink from my water bottle.

  “So what do you honestly think?” I ask.

  “It’s got a nice, raw vibe. I like it.”

  Something in her tone stops me. “But…?”

  “Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I mean, your band’s cool and all, but the only one that’s ever actually lived the life is you. So you are totally into it and convincing, but I kind of feel like they’re not on the same wavelength, you know?”

  I sigh. I’ve been feeling the same way, but I don’t know what to do about it. “Yeah, I hear you.”

  “You should have them go down somewhere and do the street thing for a couple of days. It’s not like you can learn all that over a week, but maybe some of it will rub off?”

  I stare at her for several long beats. “Melody, you’re a genius.”

  “And don’t forget a virgin, too.”

  “Right. But that’s a brilliant idea. It really is.”

  “What? Oh, you mean hitting the street?” She considers it for a moment and then nods. “Can you find somewhere to do it where you wouldn’t be mobbed by adoring fans?”

  “If I go, I’ll have to wear a disguise. Maybe I can fit into some of your clothes and go as a virgin?”

  “Ha, ha. But seriously. If you have your hat on, and your shades, and you use some of my base so you’re not so pale…although you don’t really need the practice. It’s them. Maybe they could stake out someplace and sort of rotate throughout the day? It could be a real attitude adjuster.”

  “I’ll suggest it when we go back in. We only have a week, but it can’t hurt.”

  “Let’s see how they do playing for eight hours. I remember how you used to pull it off, every day, all day. You think that’ll do the trick?”

  “We need to do something. Might as well be that.”

  “Oh, I hope they don’t hate me for it. They’re totally going to know it was my idea.”

  “What do you care, anyway?”

  “Well, your guitar player is all kinds of cute. And I like how your drummer keeps a beat, you know?”

  “Spoken like a true newborn virgin.”

  “Let’s hope Sebastian thinks so.”

  “What’s up with that, anyway?”

  “What?”

  “You know what.”

  She exhales. “He’s been acting weird lately. I mean, he was all, you know, into it, and then about a week ago he started getting distant. I’m a little worried.”

  “Maybe it’s your virginity that’s thrown him. Wants to protect your virtue?”

  “Mmm, pretty sure that’s not it.”

  “Then what? Statutory rape laws? The prospect of ten years in the joint can put a damper in even the most innocent night, I’d think.”

  “No, I think it’s more serious.”

  “Than being arrested for taking advantage of a newly minted virgin?”

  As with all points Melody dislikes, she ignores this. “I thought he’d be stoked that I was coming down to visit, but he hasn’t called…”

  “Melody, he’s in the studio. He gets pretty intense when he’s in a project. That’s just who he is. You kind of knew that going in.”

  “Yeah, but he made time when I was down here last time. You were there. He can do whatever he wants. For some reason he’s sending me the ‘I’m not interested’ signals.”

  I study her. I’ve never seen her like this. She’s really worried. And…something else.

  “You really care about him, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, and now I feel stupid. I mean, if he doesn’t, that’s cool, but I want to know, not guess.”

  “That would be the first male who’s ever been able to resist the Melody magic.”

  She smiles. “I know! Now you see why I’m confused? This does not compute.”

  “So what’s your plan?”

  She bats her eyes. “Who says I have a plan?”

  “Melody. Look who you’re talking to.”

  “Well, first I need to see him face to face. It’s easy to be all cold over the phone. But it’s a whole ’nother thing to be offered eternal happiness in person and turn it down.”

  This is the Melody I know. “Okay. Then after rehearsal, call him.”

  She shakes her head. “Totally desperate and clingy.”

  “Um, well, then, what?”

  “You call him. Or we stop by the studio.”

  “He probably won’t pick up if he’s in the middle of a session.”

  “Which is why we drop by and say hello.”

  My stomach does a little flip. “I don’t know…” I say doubtfully.

  “Come on. I’d so do it for you.”

  She would. I feel guilty for having any better judgment than she does. As I’m wavering, she goes in for the kill. “We’ll tell him we’re going to Dan Tana’s and want to hijack him. There’s no way he’ll be able to resist. Men dream of being hijacked by…new virgins.”

  “I’m obviously not reading the right magazines.”

  Melody nods. “Then it’s decided. I just saved your musical career. There’s no way you can refuse. Bad karma.”

  “So no call?”

  She shakes her head. “Go straight for the throat.”

  “Atta girl.”

  “Remember rule number one.”

  “What’s that?”

  “There are no rules. And rule number two, of course.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  “Mama gets what she wants.”

  Chapter 20

  The band’s not terribly enthusiastic about my idea of busking so they can soak up the experience, but this isn’t a democracy, and it’s my ass on the line when we start doing live shows. I spell it out for them as diplomatically as I can, but make it clear that if they want to be part of the team, they need to do what it takes. We agree we’ll hit an area downtown by the train station tomorrow at 10:00, and work three-hour shifts. I’ll take the first one with Jay, and then Simon and Doug will take over, and after them, Bruce and me again.

  I don’t mind putting in the time, though I can see how they might. They’re professionals, and they do this for a living, even if they enjoy their job. But that’s the problem. That attitude. It’s not deliberate, but when you’re really good at something and are used to being on stage, kind of worshipped in a way, it’s easy to get a superiority complex.

  Busking on the street will knock that right out of you. I tell them we’ll measure our success by how much money we bring in. It’s purely symbolic, but it’s a good way of deciding what works and what doesn’t.

  Jay agrees to give Melody and me a lift to Sebastian’s studio, and we pack into his Mitsubishi for the short ride over. I take the backseat and Melody’s in the front, and for a few blocks I’m worried he might run off the road from distraction.

  When we get to the studio, the security guard recognizes me and lets us into the pa
rking lot. I press the intercom button, as I have a hundred times before by now, but this time I’m as nervous as the first day I ever saw the place. I know I’m overstepping, but I owe it to Melody. And that’s what friends are for.

  John, Sebastian’s lead engineer, is surprised to see us, and I can’t help but notice his eyes are glued to Melody as he talks to me at the studio entry.

  “Sage, nice to see you. Can I help you with something?”

  “Oh, no, we just stopped by to see Sebastian. We spotted his Porsche in the lot. What are you guys up to?”

  “Just working on tracks. You know the drill.”

  “Yeah. Won’t be long before the album breaks. So…you going to invite us in? You remember my friend Melody, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Hi, Melody,” he says.

  “Well, hello there. Nice to see you again,” she says, holding out a hand like royalty greeting the court.

  He shakes it and steps aside. “Come on in. I’ll see if Sebastian’s got some time.”

  “Let us surprise him,” Melody says, and before he can protest, she’s sashaying down the hall, leaving a trail of fragrance. John eyes me as he closes the door, but he doesn’t say anything. His look conveys it all.

  “How’s the tracking going?” I ask, mainly to buy Melody time alone with Sebastian.

  “Oh, you know. Nothing’s ever easy. But these guys are old pros, so it’s coming together.”

  “You’re still on basics, right?”

  “Will be for a while. The boss is after a certain performance. You know how he gets.”

  “All too well,” I agree. “Is there any coffee on?”

  “Oh, um, yeah. You know where it is,” he says.

  “Is it fresh?”

  He frowns. “Not really. Come on. I’ll make some more.”

  By the time the coffee is brewed and I’ve poured a cup, Melody’s had five minutes with Sebastian, which is four more than she’s ever needed. We’re walking toward the control room when she appears in the hall. I take in her expression in a blink and my heart sinks – she looks like she’s about to burst into tears.