LUCAS BLADE: Radical Rock Stars: Next Generation Duet Book 1

by Jenna Galicki

  “Everyone just calm down.” Papi’s voice rose above everyone else’s. “Give my boy a minute. I know you mean well, but you’re badgering him. You’re putting too much pressure on him. Can’t you see he’s upset?”

  Lucas wiped his palms on his jeans. “Is 10 days really that big of a deal?”

  Tessa spoke up right away. “Yes. It is. When you’re waiting for something your whole life, and it’s finally right in front of you and then snatched away, yes, 10 days is a big deal. Why don’t you see that?”

  “What’s your plan, Lucas?” Mason asked. “Do you want to go to another label to see what we’re worth? To see if we’re marketable?”

  It was a smart suggestion, one Lucas hadn’t thought of. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  Lucas’ dad leaned against the mahogany desk to face him. “I think that’s foolish. It seems like a waste of time. You have a generous offer in front of you right now. Falcon Records has been waiting to sign Prodigy for years.” He paused. “Let’s talk in private.”

  “No, Dad. I’m sorry.”

  Lucas’ dad shrunk back, hurt at the rejection, and it fucking killed him. He couldn’t tell his father that he was tired of always being compared to the man and never living up to his reputation. He blinked several times as realization hit him hard, as if someone just slapped him across the face. He didn’t know he was bitter because he wasn’t as good as his father, and he felt ugly for it. He needed to work through his shit – shit that he didn’t even know was gnawing at the back of his mind – and he wanted out of Mr. Abelman’s office. “Let’s just go home.”

  Mason stood first. “You’re killing me, man. But I hear ya. There’s no reason to hash this out here.”

  The awkward silence in the car on the way home left a knot in Lucas’ stomach, and he wished he and Tessa didn’t grab a ride into the City with their parents. Tessa stared out the window, not making eye contact. Lucas’ parents were bewildered and probably didn’t know what to say at this point, so they didn’t say anything. Not even to each other.

  As the road glided by, Lucas had time to sort through some of the troubled thoughts clouding his head. He realized that he started doubting himself after his break up with Holly. The way it went down left him questioning how people viewed him. Did they look at him and see a young musician on the rise, or did they see Tommy Blade’s clone, a second coming of one of the greatest guitarists in the world? And what happened when he didn’t live up to his father’s legendary reputation? Lucas knew he was a gifted guitar player, but he’d never be as good as his dad. People put so much pressure on him with their preconceived expectations, and sometimes it was overwhelming.

  When he got home, he disappeared into his suite and texted Mason. Less than a half hour later, his best friend paced in front of him.

  “What the hell was all that about?” Mason asked.

  Lucas stared at his best friend as he prepared to voice his innermost thoughts. Thoughts that gnawed at him, but also left him guilt-ridden. “Sometimes I feel like I’m living in my father’s shadow. Like everyone expects me to be just like the great Tommy Blade. It’s a lot of pressure sometimes. I just want to be recognized for me.”

  Mason clapped his hand on Lucas’ shoulder and gave him a little shake. “Relax, man. You’re thinking too much. It’s not like that.”

  “Didn’t you ever feel like you’re living in your father’s shadow?”

  “Not at all. My father mentored me. I inherited my talent from him. Just like he inherited his talent from his father.”

  There was one key difference. Mason was a better drummer than his father. And Jimmy Wilder was a better drummer than his father. They were three generations of excellence, one better than the other, and Lucas knew the world expected the same from him. He honestly didn’t know if he could live up to the expectations.

  Tessa knocked and stuck her head in the room. “Am I included in this discussion or is it guys only?”

  “I texted you, remember?” Lucas waved her inside and waited for her to sit down. “How do you feel about Falcon Records trying to sell us off as another Immortal Angel?”

  “I don’t see it that way at all. I see it as capitalizing on an already lucrative commodity.”

  Frustrated, Lucas pushed his fingers through his hair. “They want to change your name to Blade Garcia, for Christ’s sake!”

  “I think it’s awesome.” Her shoulders straightened and her face lit up. “My middle name is badass!”

  “You’re really going to use that name?” Lucas questioned. He hated that his sister wasn’t supporting him and that she was enamored by Mr. Abelman’s suggestions, even though he had to admit that Blade Garcia was a great stage name.

  Mason picked up a length of Tessa’s long hair. “What about your hair? You’re not really going to dye it hot pink, are you? It’s too beautiful. I love how dark it is. Almost black, but not quite.”

  She smiled at Mason. “I’m not dying my hair. And I’m not changing my name either. I thought about it, but I’m Tessa.”

  “Mr. Abelman wants to make us into our parents.” Lucas rubbed his forehead, still frustrated that Tessa wasn’t upset by Falcon Records’ expectations. “Why doesn’t that bother you?”

  “Because I’m proud to be like them,” she answered.

  “So am I.” Lucas jumped to his feet. “But I don’t want to mirror them. I just want to be regarded as Lucas Blade, not Tommy Blade’s son.”

  “What if Mr. Abelman pulls the offer off the table?” Tessa asked. “Then we have nothing.”

  It was a valid question and the reality of it frightened Lucas as much as it intrigued him. “I think we should see what another label has to offer. Why are we bound to Falcon? Because our families have been signed with them forever?”

  “He’s right,” Mason agreed, much to Lucas’ surprise. “We’re not obligated to Falcon. There are a half dozen major labels we can sign with.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean!” Lucas exclaimed. Finally, one of them got it. “Our entire lives have been planned since we were kids. Me and Tessa had to go to college before we could embark on a career in music. Then we were supposed to sign a contract with Falcon Records and do our first tour opening for Immortal Angel. We’re adults. We can make our own decisions.”

  “Do you really feel that way?” Tessa’s brows furrowed over her dark eyes, making them more expressive. “You sound like you resent our parents when they’re only trying to help us.”

  “I know that. I get it. They’re passing on their wisdom and their decades of experience. I know that we’re lucky to have so much valuable advice from them. I’m grateful for it. I love them for it. But don’t you think that it’s too damn easy sometimes?”

  “I don’t think it’s easy,” Mason said. “I’ve been on tour, performing in a different city every night. Some tours have lasted almost a year. They’re rough. It’s going to be all work when we’re out on our own, trying to prove ourselves to a new set of fans.”

  Lucas tugged on the roots of his hair. His head spun in a million different directions and his stomach felt as if he swallowed a brick. Everything he’s done in his life has been leading up to this moment. It couldn’t have come fast enough. This decision would change their lives, and it was too important to rush into. He just wished he would have questioned it sooner.

  Tessa rubbed his arm. “Stop stressing out. This is a lot of pressure, and I know it’s getting to you. We’ll figure it out.”

  Lucas looked at his sister, comforted by her reassuring words. He couldn’t understand how siblings didn’t get along. Yeah, she’d been a big pain in the ass when she was 13. But, by the time she turned 17 she had become the woman she is today – smart, sassy, remarkably sane and reassuring, and ready to take on the world. “I just don’t want to conform to any kind of mold, and I have a bad feeling that Mr. Abelman is going to try to manipulate us into doing a lot of things we don’t want to do,” he continued. “I know the man has experience and s
ome great suggestions, but the decisions have to be ours. It’s our band. Our music. Our image.”

  “But it’s his money on the line,” Tessa pointed out. “Not to mention the trust issue. Whoever signs us stands to make a lot of money. I don’t want to get ripped off. I trust Mr. Abelman.”

  She had some valid points, but it didn’t change the fact that Ron Abelman looked at Prodigy and saw Immortal Angel. More specifically, looked at him and saw Tommy Blade.

  Mason tapped his foot on the floor while the tips of his fingers strummed on the side table, breaking the quiet in the room. “I have a suggestion. What if we started our own label? I’ve never worked for anyone. I’ve never been attached to a label. My dad has always been my agent and my manager. And your papi has always managed Prodigy. I know it sounds a little crazy since none of us know how to run a business, but our parents do. And they know all the right people.”

  It was as if a fog lifted and revealed exactly what Lucas was struggling to see. The future of the band had never been more clearer. Why should they make millions of dollars for someone else? They didn’t need to share their wealth. They could reap all the profits.

  “You’re really quiet, Lucas,” Mason said, cautiously. “Is that good or bad?”

  “It’s fucking awesome!” Lucas exclaimed. “Why didn’t we think about this before? The answer was right in front of us. Why should we make some corporation rich? We don’t need them. We have our own money!”

  Tessa ran to Mason and wrapped her arms around him. “What a fantastic idea! We’re gonna have our own label! We can call it Blade-Garcia-Wilder Records. BGW for short.”

  Mason smiled and nodded at her. “I like it.”

  “BGW Records.” Lucas nodded as he listened to the name of their new company as he said it aloud for the first time. It sounded right.

  Today was one of those days where Sindy hustled tables as if the place was on fire. The faster she got orders out, the bigger tip she received, and she needed every penny. She started at six this morning and standing on her feet for almost 12 hours left her in need of a relaxing soak in the hot tub. Freedom was imminent, as table 16 was her last customer. She put on a smile and placed a menu on the table. “Welcome to Justine’s. Can I get—” It was the singer from the coffee shop. The girl with the incredible voice, responsible for the most lucrative day Sindy had seen in a long time. “Tessa. Hi.”

  “You remembered me.”

  “Sure. You were awesome. I was hoping I’d run into you again. I owe you pie. We have peach, blueberry, apple, and my favorite, banana cream.”

  “Sold. I’ll have a slice of banana cream pie and coffee.”

  Sindy scribbled on her pad. “Great. I’ll give you a minute to look at the menu.”

  “No. I’ll just have the pie and coffee.”

  “Oh. OK. I’ll be back with it in a sec.” Sindy hurried to slice the pie while a busboy poured Tessa’s coffee. She watched Tessa making small talk with the busboy, always a smile on her face and never at a loss for words. Sindy had hoped Tessa would come to the diner, not only to cash in on the free pie but as an excuse to see her again. Maybe start up a friendship, or, a collaboration. She took a deep breath and headed back to table 16. “Here’s your pie. Do you mind if I sit for a second?”

  “Of course not.” Tessa pointed to the other side of the booth with her fork. “Please, sit.”

  “I still play at the coffee shop once a week. I’d love it if you’d join me. I can play the axe until my fingers bleed, but I can’t sing, and you have an amazing voice.”

  Tessa stopped eating her pie in order to give Sindy her full attention.

  “I thought we played really well together,” Sindy continued. “And it was fun. Don’t you think so?”

  “Yes. I do. You know music. Your timing is perfect. I can’t believe you never played with a band. Solo artists usually don’t fall into a groove while performing with someone else as quickly as you did.”

  Sindy hadn’t done anything special or different. She had just played the song. “Maybe because I’ve played that song a million times, and I’m sure you’ve sang it just as many.”

  “Actually, no. I mean, I know the lyrics, but that was the first time I’ve ever sang it while a guitarist played the song.”

  “But, you didn’t miss a word or a beat.”

  “That’s because you played it with perfect timing. Just like the original. You threw in your own rendition of the solo, which still blows my mind by the way, but the rest of the song was note for note.”

  Sindy’s spirits soared. This girl was pleasant and friendly, and equally enamored about the song they shared. “So you’ll come sing while I play again? You don’t have to commit to anything. Just join me for a few songs. I’ll split the money fifty-fifty.”

  “That’s not really my thing. I appreciate the offer. I really do. I’m flattered. But I have a band, and I put all my free time and energy into it.”

  Deflated by disappointment, Sindy sunk lower into the booth. The extra money she envisioned coming her way disappeared with the shake of a head. “It’s OK. I understand. It would have been nice though.”

  “Maybe we can get together sometime and do something else.”

  Sindy had zero free time but she really liked Tessa, and she needed to make some friends. “I’d like that.”

  “Great.” Tessa finished the last of the pie. “Leave your number on the check.”

  Sindy jotted down the digits to her cell and ripped the paper off her pad. “If I don’t answer, just leave a message. I work long hours so sometimes I’m hard to reach. I’ll call you back, though. And no charge for the pie. I gotta get back to work. Thanks for stopping in. I’m really glad you did.”

  “Me too.”

  Sindy grabbed a check wallet from table 12 and made her way to the cash register. When she returned with the change, she glanced at table 16. Tessa was gone. They only had a few minutes to talk, but it was a nice break in Sindy’s hectic schedule and probably the only personal conversation she’d have all day. She noticed money sitting under the coffee cup and sighed. She didn’t want Tessa to leave a tip, but she needed the extra few bucks. She picked up the empty pie plate and coffee cup and eagerly reached for the . . . twenty-dollar bill? Sindy stared at it with confusion, than at the front door. Who the hell left a twenty-dollar tip for a cup of coffee and pie? Who was this girl?

  Now that the decision to create their own label was in the works, Prodigy was moving forward with putting together their first album, which meant they had to come up with 16 tracks and then narrow it down to 12. They had a large catalog to choose from, and some songs were a perfect fit for their debut and already favorites among the local music scene. Others were fun pieces that could be gems if polished, and those were the songs they were working on today in the full recording studio located in the basement of their parents’ mansion.

  Tessa, usually on point with her bassline and vocal timing, missed a few cues. “What’s up?” Lucas asked her “You seem off on this song.”

  She pinched her brows together, deep in thought. “I keep imagining something different.” She paused, as if holding back her thoughts, which was totally unlike her. “Let’s record it and play it back before I tell you what I’m thinking.”

  Mason, a master at the video and audio equipment, jumped off his stool. “I’m on it.” After he set everything to his liking, they ran through the song again and watched it on the enormous flat screen.

  Lucas watched Tessa’s face as she scrutinized the video. She never held back, especially when it came to herself. She always received the harshest critique.

  “We look good as a band.” Tessa continued to study the screen while Lucas watched alongside her, trying to see what had her so captivated. “But, I’m starting to think that maybe you were right, Lucas.”

  Lucas almost fell off the arm of the couch. “What did you say?” Independent and headstrong, his sister never conceded without a long drawn out argument. “Did yo
u just say I was right?” His face lit up with an animated smile. “Did you hear that, Mason? My sister said I was right. I hope to God you were recording this.”

  Mason shook his head. “Sorry, man. I wasn’t ready for that shocker.” He held up his phone in front of Tessa. “Would you mind repeating that? Because I think me and Lucas just shared the same hallucination.”

  “Knock it off.” Tessa chuckled and shook her head at them. “I’m serious. Let’s listen to it again.” She picked up the remote, hit rewind and replayed the song, pausing after the first chorus. “You know what would sound really cool?” She waited, but neither Lucas nor Mason answered. “The addition of a rhythm guitarist.”

  Lucas blinked and leaned closer, sure he misheard her. “Did you just say you wanted to add a rhythm guitarist to the band? Are you finally letting up on the issue?”

  “Well . . . we look fine here in the basement studio, but once we’re on a big stage it might look a little sparse with only the three of us, and this song really calls out for the depth of dueling guitar chords. What do you think, Mason?”

  “To be honest, I think a rhythm guitarist is a great idea. But only if we can get someone who can play on the same level as Lucas, otherwise he’s going to leave them in the dust. Then the addition of a rhythm guitarist won’t enhance our music. It’ll bring it down a notch.”

  “I agree,” Lucas replied. “But, there has to be someone out there. What changed your mind, Tessa?”

  “I’m trying to be open-minded. We have this new venture creating our own label. Why not push it to the limit? Plus, I met this girl at a coffee shop. She’s really cool. She couldn’t sing, but, damn, she played the guitar like her life depended on it.”