Back To The Viper

by Antara Mann

  Chapter 11

  The following two days seemed to go by like paper in the wind to Ashley, Wayne, Craig, and Chad. On the following day, Mark Harris called them to announce the good news: Sony had shown interest in them. However, the company wanted a whole album to be recorded in a studio. He had them sign a contract with him and then offered to record the album in his recording studio in Los Angeles. Harris proposed for the royalties to be split fifty-fifty. Wayne didn’t know what to do – he’d never had to deal with the legal side of music business before. Craig was more knowledgeable in that matter.

  “That’s a very responsible and important thing to do. We need to read the whole contract very carefully, down to the smallest details. I’ve signed many contracts at Cisco Systems, and I know that each violation of the contract or each failure to adhere to its terms will cost us a fortune.”

  “All right, then, Mr. White Collar, are you ready to read it and explain it to us so that we can decide whether to sign it or not?”

  Craig nodded. On the following day, Harris sent them a copy of the contract. They read it carefully several times. The producer was offering to financially cover the recording of their studio albums for the following five years in exchange for half of the royalties negotiated with the label.

  “This means that if the label offers us, let’s say, twelve percent of the royalties, we’ll be left with just six. And then, when we split that six percent among us, each of us will be left with one and a half percent,” Craig explained.

  “What?” Wayne cried.

  Craig smiled at him in empathy.

  “Yes, things are not as rose colored as movies and TV shows make us believe they are. Bands, as a whole, don’t earn much. I’m talking about the middle ranks.”

  “But that’s highway robbery! Why only twelve percent royalties for us and half of that share going to the producer?” Ashley exclaimed.

  “Well, if you think you can find the money to record a whole studio album, be my guest! Besides, don’t forget that Mark knows that guy from Sony, and without him, our chances to sign a contract with a music label are close to none. Especially with one of Sony’s caliber.”

  All of them were silent. Chad, who had been only listening to his friends, suddenly spoke up. “Guys, wait a minute! Why are you taking everything so seriously? Have you forgotten that this is not real and that we’re here in this space for a short time? We wanted to get rid of the feeling of failure and guilt and now here we are chewing over that music contract offer as if we were staying here forever.”

  “Yes, Chad’s right. Actually, how much longer are we planning to stay in this reality?” Craig inserted. “It’s been a few days. In reality, that’s several hours. Don’t you think we should go back?”

  “Relax, pal, you’ll see your family. I just want us to sign and to know we’ve made it,” Wayne replied.

  “Just make sure that won’t take us several more days,” Craig said dryly.

  “We’ll stay as long as we must!” Wayne snapped.

  Craig looked at him without uttering a word.

  The next day, the band met the producer at the office of a law firm called Saches, Stone and Mitchell, whose services Harris used. Craig slowly read the contract one more time and finally signed it. The rest followed him. Going out of the office, Mark Harris was visibly pleased.

  “A good decision, guys.” He looked at Ashley. “We’ll record the album in a few months, and I’ll call Brian Owens from Sony so that we know for sure what their offer is. When can you start recording at my studio?”

  “As early as tomorrow,” Wayne said firmly.

  “I like your enthusiasm; it makes me feel young again,” Mark replied, his eyes sparkling. Ashley was examining him with interest, wondering how old he was; he looked forty-five at the most.

  They agreed to meet in front of Harris’s studio in Los Angeles at nine in the morning.

  While walking down the boulevard and discussing the favorable turn of events, Craig suddenly cried, “I think that was all. Let’s go back!”

  “Wait a second, what about the album?” Wayne asked.

  “Man, Monique is home alone, and I have some work to do!”

  “Didn’t you say you warned her? I took a day off,” Ashley interrupted him.

  “What else do we need to do? This isn’t real. Am I the only one here who can think clearly?” Craig raised his voice.

  “You know what, let’s go to a restaurant and celebrate it. What do you think?” Wayne broke the awkward silence.

  “Great idea!” Chad and Ashley answered simultaneously.

  They all fixed their eyes on Craig.

  “All right, if I must,” he sighed and joined the others reluctantly. He didn’t want to stay here even a second longer. If it had been up to him, he’d have immediately gone back to the present where his family was.

  ***

  “Well done; good job, guys!” The sound engineer took off his headphones and raised his thumb approvingly from the control room.

  Wayne, Ashley, Chad, and Craig had been recording for a few hours at Mark Harris’s home studio. Before they had begun, Wayne and Mark had discussed at length how to bring the songs to be included in the album to perfection.

  By the early afternoon, they had already recorded half the album when Mark entered the recording room wearing a wide smile on his face.

  “Good job, boys! You’re doing great.”

  Ashley turned to him, insulted. “Mark, I guess you’ve forgotten there’s also a woman in the band?”

  “You’re right, Ashley. I apologize. You’re an important member of the band, and I value you greatly. I came by just to tell you we’re doing pretty well. We’ve recorded more than I had planned, and you deserve a break. I can see you’re tired, so let’s call it a day, shall we?” Harris left the room and Craig put the drumsticks down with a bored expression. He looked exhausted, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He had apparently had no sleep the previous night.

  “Are you happy now? When are we going back?” he asked impatiently.

  “I think we did what we wanted, and there’s no need for us to spend another day recording; Wayne, what do you think?” Ashley turned at him.

  Wayne was playing a melody and didn’t realize somebody was talking to him. Only after Ashley shouted his name again did he start and lift his eyes.

  “What? Did you say something?” He stopped playing.

  “We’re suggesting it’s time to go back; what do you think?” Ashley came closer to him.

  Wayne sighed and set the guitar aside.

  “Okay, we did do what we came here for. Before we go back, however, I have a surprise for you.”

  “A surprise?” Chad exclaimed.

  Wayne nodded.

  “What is it?” Ashley asked, puzzled.

  “It won’t be a surprise if I tell you.”

  ***

  “Beach Ball in Orange County?” Ashley looked at Wayne, who was parking the car in front of the bar, right by the coast.

  “Do we have time for this? Didn’t we decide to go back…” she objected, but Wayne interrupted her.

  “Oh, come on, don’t be such a Debbie Downer! Of course we can afford it. It won’t take too long. Come on, it will be fun!”

  Wayne got out of the car; Ashley and Chad followed him. Craig had remained in his hotel room. Harris had covered their hotel expenses, of course. It was past eight in the evening, and the bar was almost full. Wayne ordered tequila for each of them.

  “To the bottom,” he said and downed his tequila in one sip. Almost an hour had passed when Craig joined them. They could tell from afar that he wasn’t in a good mood. He almost collapsed into his chair and held his head in his hands.

  “Dude, what’s with the long face?” Wayne gave him a hug and pushed a glass of tequila under his nose.

  “Leave me alone!” Craig pushed him back angrily.

  “Why don’t you just have fun? When are we going to be twenty again? Look
at all those cool chicks around.” Wayne’s eyes drifted over the bodies of all the women nearby. “I don’t understand you married people; how can you eat the same meal over and over again? Don’t you get sick of it?”

  “You little asshole, shut your mouth!” Craig took Wayne by the collar and shoved him back; Wayne fell down on the chair next to him. The others in the bar averted their eyes from the scene. Chad rushed to part them.

  “What’s wrong with you, Craig? Are you crazy? And you, Wayne, why are you teasing him? You’re both acting like teenagers!” he scolded them.

  “I don’t need help!” Wayne pushed Chad and began smoothing his clothes. “For Christ’s sake, why do you always have to be so sentimental, Craig? If you want us to go home so much, then fine! We can do it right now, can’t we, Ash? Ash, where are you?” Wayne called her name, but she was gone. Where could she have gone?

  When Craig and Wayne locked horns, Ashley thought that that was too much for her. She went out of the club and aimed for the beach. It was the end of June, and the weather was wonderful. The cool sand under her feet sent chills up her body. She stood in front of the lapping waves and stared into the dark indistinct horizon. Why had she wished for them to go back in time? To get rid of the feelings of failure, guilt, and dissatisfaction that had been haunting them like ghosts. The waves touched her bare feet and drew back into the sea. Yes, playing “Where is Your Lover” had won the producer, but to what use when the boys were now arguing? She suddenly realized that even if they had broken through, their fate wouldn’t have been any different than the fate of most of the other bands: they would have recorded a hit album or two at the most, and then they would have begun to fight and would have eventually separated. The waves caressed her feet again and she took a few steps deeper into the sea. She liked the feeling of the seawater caressing her skin. She wondered whether what had happened before wasn’t actually for their good. She smiled and then remembered Harry and his discovery. She wondered what he was doing now and how they looked like, lying down in his lab.

  “Ash!” She heard Chad’s voice behind her. He ran to her and asked, out of breath:

  “Where have you been? We were worried about you.”

  She looked out at the dark waters of the sea.

  “I was thinking that maybe fate did us a favor when we failed to become famous.”

  He didn’t say anything, just looked at her.

  “So, where are Wayne and Craig?”

  “In the club, burying the hatchet.” Chad smiled. They had been arguing like a married couple.

  “Did Craig calm down?”

  “For the moment yes, but Ash…” His voice shivered. “When are we going back? Craig is right – this here isn’t real.”

  “So it’s time, isn’t it?” she asked quietly. Only the distant sound of music coming from the club was disturbing the silence around them.

  He nodded.

  “Sometimes you just have to let go and be impulsive,” Ashley added. “When I watch Briana, I feel like I want to be like her; not to think about the past or the future, but to just live in the now. I miss her.”

  Chad touched her hand. Although he didn’t have children, he could understand. Their eyes met and suddenly the space in front of them faded away.

  “What’s going on?” Ashley asked, but it was too late – the white light enveloped them. For a few seconds, they were beyond time and space. Then all of them realized they were back in Harry’s lab. Despite the fact they had been in different places, they had come back simultaneously.

  “We’re back!” Craig, still lying on the floor, cried, beyond himself with joy. “God, I have to call Monique! How much time has passed?”

  “How did we go back without doing anything? I thought we had to move a body part first?” Wayne asked. He remembered Harry’s instructions clearly and was puzzled.

  “Yes, that’s a good question,” Harry answered, fixing his glasses. “The duration of UTST’s effect lasts between four and five days. You spent four very intensive days in the past.”

  “So what’s the time now?” Craig repeated his question.

  “Half past eleven.”

  That had made seven hours since the start of their trip.

  “Oh my God, I should have been home already! Monique is going to kill me!”

  “Wait a second, I need to tell you all something very important.” Harry approached them with a serious look on his face. “I wasn’t sure what influence a change of a past event would have on the present and was eager to test it. Now I know: every change of the past causes a chain reaction of changes further in time. Your case has proven it.”

  “Damn it, man, can’t you use any clearer words?” Wayne complained. He’d always hated the exact sciences, especially physics and mathematics.

  “Okay, let me put it this way: now each of you has a completely different life.”

  “What?” they said in one voice.

  “Harry, you joker!” Wayne laughed.

  “You don’t believe me? Read this, then.” He pushed his smartphone into Wayne’s hands, who paused while reading.

  “Punk’d host on MTV? Engaged to the model Olivia Hamilton? Producer of The Razor’s Blades and The Devil’s Pouch?” he read aloud. A pop-rock band producer? That had been his long-standing dream. Wayne lifted his surprised eyes from the cell phone and asked, with a change in his voice, “But how? Have you done any magic on us?”

  “I told you already – the change in your past has led to a change of the other aspects of your life.”

  There was silence. Suddenly Craig said, “So what’s the fate of the rest of us?”

  Harry handed him his phone. He looked up his name on Wikipedia and read the following: Craig Bloomingdale, one of the most influential entrepreneurs of the decade, among Forbes’ Top 100 Millionaires… “God, is that me?” He couldn’t believe it. His eyes spotted the words “former drummer of the pop-rock band The Jackal… angel investor at Twitter, Evernote, Dropbox, Buffer…” There were a few more company names he hadn’t even heard of. Further down, he saw the number “$35 million.” He could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears. Did he really own so much money? The birth date under the photo matched his; he saw Monique’s name under “wife” and his daughter’s name under “children.”

  “What, for God’s sake, is going on here?” he asked, sinking in a chair next to Chad. Wayne was walking nervously to and fro and seemed to have forgotten about the others’ existence.

  “That’s nothing,” Chad laughed. “Look what it says about me!” He typed his name in the search box and soon after that, Wikipedia loaded his page. “Chad Keeney, a singer of contemporary pop and rock with electronic elements, (former) lead singer of the band The Jackal.” His eyes slid down along the category “Discography.” His last album from 2014 was at the top of Billboard’s chart and his song “Your Boyfriend” had a platinum status – it had sold over two million copies around the world. Under the category “Personal life,” it was written that he lived in Malibu, Los Angeles County. Craig stole a glance at Chad – he, just like everyone else, had a perplexed look on his face and was trying to assimilate all this new information.

  “Ashley, do you know you own a fashion and perfume company based in New York and are worth 12 million dollars?” Craig said. He tried to read as much information as he could about their band The Jackal, as well as about each of them separately. Wikipedia said their first album had been extremely successful, had sold two million copies, and had turned them into music stars. It had been followed by another two albums before the band had broken apart. Each of them, however, had managed to start a successful business after that.

  She nodded at him – she’d already looked this up on her smartphone.

  “That was your goal after all, wasn’t it?” Harry asked.

  “I guess so,” Chad mumbled. “I can’t deny we did get what we wanted.”

  “You are wrong, buddy. I didn’t sign up for this! You told me, ‘Let’s go and
fix our failed showcase.’ Well, nobody warned me it would come to this!” Wayne exclaimed.

  “Oh, come on, wasn’t it why we embarked on this trip? Each of us was dissatisfied with our current life and wanted something more. Well, now we are successful, whatever it means.”

  “That’s it! Chad’s right.” Ashley grinned. “We even got more than we expected. Why worry, then?”

  “Then we struck gold with this experiment!” Craig exclaimed joyfully.

  Wayne laughed and sank in a chair next to him. His laughter, however, sounded more unnatural than happy.

  “I still can’t believe it – this seems unreal.”

  “Better get used to it, buddy, because that’s our new life,” Craig answered. “Never mind, I really have to go now.”

  Before they left, Harry gave each of them a sheet of paper with addresses typed on them.

  Craig took his and gasped.

  “Whoo-hoo, all of us except for Chad live in LA. I’m in Beverley Hills. Ash, you’ve got a house in the Big Apple.”

  “Okay, but how are we going to get back then? It’s a five or six-hour ride to LA,” Ashley said.

  “Good point. I think we should stay in a hotel and leave tomorrow morning,” Chad suggested. The rest of them nodded approvingly.

  They came out of Harry’s lab and went toward their cars. They were flabbergasted when, instead of their slightly worn lesser models, they saw brand new and expensive cars. Even Craig’s corporate Ford Mustang had been replaced.

  “Jesus, it’s like Christmas!” Wayne exclaimed, going around the cars with a gaping mouth.

  “How do we know which is whose?” Ashley asked. “And more importantly, where are our keys?”

  “Why don’t you check your pockets?” Harry suggested.

  “You’re damn right!” Craig exclaimed, taking out his key ring; a single push made his Ferrari beep. “Not bad. I’ve always wanted a baby like this.” He slid his fingers along the door and then jumped in.