**
Amy couldn’t get the texts out of her mind. The implications, and more than that, the almost confession that Denny had been the one that broke into Amy’s car. The police told her that it looked like someone had been digging around for money. Maybe someone hungry for a meal, maybe someone looking for their next drug score. Amy didn’t say anything at the time, but there was a small change console right next to the steering wheel. Granted, it was just change, but there had to be maybe ten dollars or more in coins in there. Not to mention the emergency twenty she kept in the middle console. All that remained in the car, yet the person who broke in dumped everything from the glovebox, spread her CD’s all around the car, and did nothing else except the broken window.
Uncle Tom didn’t bring the situation up again during normal business hours. The evening rush came and the line to get into Tommy Two’s was out the door. Someone announced that there was a ninety minute wait and only three people had walked out because of the wait. People wanted to eat at the restaurant and were willing to wait to do so. It meant that Amy had to make sure the kitchen was on its game and that she was the same. She couldn’t think about Denny. She couldn't think about her car. She couldn’t think about anything. She had to focus on the tickets pouring into the kitchen, the kitchen staff around her, and the waitresses who were under duress. These were the moments when the normal restaurant spats would break out.
Standing right where she belonged, Amy managed the kitchen with her eyes intent on perfection. It was the only thing that kept her worry and pain at bay. She felt as though she had to prove to herself that she could live life on her own, without facing any old demons that were waiting. She wished Denny would just disappear forever, but Amy knew that wasn’t possible. Not with what was owed to him.
An hour into the dinner rush, Amy looked around the kitchen.
“Steve, Craig, and Madison,” she called out and pointing. “You three, outside, take a five minute breather. Just five.”
“Sure it’s not two?” Madison asked and giggled.
Amy smiled. Everyone loved to pick on Uncle Tom but it was all out of love.
Amy then began a cycle of making sure everyone got a break in the kitchen. It was a trick that took a long time to master. Any slip ups in the kitchen could easily multiply and shut everything down. By sending everyone three by three for five minute breaks it kept the kitchen moving along and it gave everyone a chance to step away. It was easy to get annoyed and frustrated, it was a job after all, Amy knew that. For her, this was her life. She wanted the restaurant to be hers… and in some ways, she wanted the restaurant to be Uncle Tom’s too. He didn’t know that and if he did, he wouldn’t understand what that meant.
Everyone had their break and then Jeff elbowed Amy.
“What?”
“Take your break,” he said. “We’re slowing now.”
“No, I’m good.”
“You need a break,” Jeff said. “You look like something’s wrong.”
“My mind is thinking too much at once,” Amy said.
“Which a break could help, right?”
Amy looked at Jeff. The tip of his tongue played with his lip ring as he smiled. He was a good looking guy, but Amy wasn’t sure about Jeff. The last thing Amy needed was a relationship, especially one with someone who had an implications of a bad boy. Tattoos, piercings, the fact that he was her employee. That didn’t work out so well the first time.
It was no secret that Jeff had eyes for Amy. Everyone teased Amy about it when Jeff wasn’t around, but never in front of Uncle Tom. He wouldn’t approve.
“I’ll step out then,” Amy said.
“I think everyone’s seated now,” Jeff said. “It’s good. Take ten minutes.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No, I just don’t like that look on your face.”
Amy smiled and walked away. She opened the back door and walked out into the cold darkness of the night. She had a coat in the office but it seemed like too much trouble to go back in and get it for a break. She didn’t smoke so she didn’t really plan on being outside that long at all. She hugged herself and looked up to the stars. She could see her breath as she breathed.
Jeff’s words played in her mind.
I just don’t like that look on your face…
Amy closed her eyes.
What look? The look of worry and fear… the look of a secret debt coming to collect?
“Shit,” Amy whispered.
She would have to call Denny. And maybe settle everything. Somehow.
(4)
The limo pulled around to the back of the hotel. It made it barely ten feet into the parking lot when a crowd of people appeared, cheering and screaming for Fallen Tuesday.
“Holy hell,” Trent said.
“What is this?” Jake asked.
“This is being famous,” Mack said.
“There’s a hundred people out there,” Gray said.
“At least,” Luke said.
“How? How the hell?” Mack asked.
“Technology,” Luke said. “How many people saw us on the side of the road? How many people took a picture and tagged the location? The radio station probably said something by now. Christ, and Frank sends a limo for us. It’s no secret then, I guess.”
“What do we do?” Trent asked.
Mack clapped his hands together. “We get our shit and get to the hotel.”
“How?” Gray asked.
“We’ve wanted this since we were kids,” Luke said. “We were once these crazy fans, weren’t we? Sneaking around shows and hotels and buses, desperate for an autograph. Now we’re the rockstars.”
“Rockstars.” Mack leaned forward and grabbed a guitar.
Luke opened the door and stepped out with a guitar. Everyone followed and they took a few steps before the crowd erupted even more. The fans were fun. They were screaming because the band was okay. They screamed questions about the accident. Fallen Tuesday stuck close and walked through the crowd. The fans were blocking the way to the hotel. It worried Luke for a second, but then he saw the security guards open the door. Four large men were on their way to help.
“What’s happening?” Luke called out.
His voice hurt but the crowd loved it.
Soon there looked like a million hands shaking right in Luke’s face. There were pictures, posters, papers, and shirts. Markers and pens. Then came the cell phones. The clicks of pictures, flashes of cameras, and then people holding their phones out taping the entire scene.
Luke looked at the band and nodded.
They all started to sign autographs.
This was the moment they all had been waiting for. Their first gig was in their high school auditorium at a talent show. The audience count had been twelve people, including three teachers and the principal. Not even a minute into their first song, the principal pulled the plug because he didn’t like the music. That’s where Fallen Tuesday had started. The first real gig was at a local college, opening for a college band. The audience count was seven, five of those being the band members of the other band. When they first arrived in Los Angeles, every dive bar and club turned them down twice before giving them a shot to play.
Luke’s wrist hurt and he had been kissed by two dozen women. Many had proposed to him and more had offered to join him in the hotel for a little fun. The same women made their way to the rest of band, offering the same. Luke learned how to field those offers with laughs and nothing more. Jake and Trent were a little gun shy of it all still. They were the baby faces in the band, the ones who could probably get more women than the rest of the band, but they were always in shock of the sudden fame. As for Gray and Mack, they loved the attention. Gray hugged all the women he could, took pictures, and wiggled around the questions and offers of love and one night stands. Mack didn’t care. He never cared. He pushed back at the women, asking them questions.
What would you do? How long could you keep up? What abo
ut your friends?
He was brutal and Frank hated it. Frank warned them that someday someone could come forward and start trouble.
The security guards started to break up the crowd. Luke hurried to sign more autographs. He hated the idea of someone going home without a picture, autograph, or even a handshake. He knew that feeling, but he also knew that when the limo pulled into the parking lot there was about a hundred people. Now, there was twice that, maybe more. It wouldn’t be possible to sign all the autographs for the fans waiting. Fallen Tuesday would be outside all night and even then it wouldn’t stop. Everyone was already posting the pictures of the band on social networks and texting their friends, thus creating the buzz for a larger crowd.
“Sorry,” Luke said as put his hands up.
The rest of the band followed his lead. They picked up their guitars and huddled together between all four of the bodyguards and made their way into the hotel. When the door shut, Luke let out a long sigh.
“That was intense,” Jake said.
“That was great,” Mack said. “I want to go back out there and pick a few of them.”
“I’ll second that,” Gray said.
The bodyguards remained, waiting to know if that was something they were serious about.
“Call it a night,” Luke said. “We have to get upstairs and call Frank. We still have to get on the radio station for the interview.”
“He’s right,” Trent said.
“I’m always right, let’s go.”
Luke took a step and one of the bodyguards jumped in front of him. This part, Luke wasn’t used to just yet. He hated being led around like an animal, but he understood why, considering the scene outside. The band was escorted up the stairs to an elevator. The doors opened and it was empty. Everyone climbed inside, including the bodyguards. They all remained quiet and the bodyguards led the way to the rooms. The entire floor was theirs.
The band piled into the last room down the hall.
When the door shut, Luke felt relieved.
“I hate that feeling,” he said.
“What feeling?” Gray asked.
“That feeling like I’m being babysat,” Luke said. “Can’t stand it.”
“The price of fame,” Gray said as he wrapped his arm around Luke. “The paycheck is nice though, isn’t it?”
Luke smiled.
Yeah, the paycheck was nice. Very nice. Luke’s paycheck had been even nicer thanks to his shows with Chasing Cross. He hadn’t expected to get a dime for it, but the band made sure he was paid as though he were the drummer for Chasing Cross. It was a lot of extra money. It was almost guilt ridden money because Luke never wanted to play music to become rich and he hated the idea of everything not being equal in Fallen Tuesday, so the extra money sat in his bank account and he told himself he’d do something special with it.
The band tore through the large hotel room, looking for glasses and bottles. There was a liquor cabinet in the room with full size bottles of booze instead of the mini ones.
“I love Frank,” Mack called.
He twisted the top off a bottle and drank.
“Speaking of…,” Luke said.
He grabbed his phone and called Frank.
Frank picked up on the second ring. “You boys settled?”
Luke looked as Mack handed the bottle of whiskey to Gray. “Yeah, we’re settled. Had a little scene in the parking lot.”
“Scene? What kind of scene?”
“Thanks to your limo,” Luke said, “we have a swarm waiting for us.”
“Lots of fans?”
Luke respected it. Frank sounded excited. Fans meant money and Frank loved money.
“There were a couple hundred people,” Luke said.
“Damn, that’s nice. Too bad we didn’t have that here right now. Could have sold a ton of shirts.”
“Next time,” Luke said. “Are we set for the interview?”
“Yeah, I think so. It’s basic stuff. Put the phone on speaker and just let everyone talk. There’s going to be questions about the accident.”
“Accident?” Luke asked. “It wasn’t really an accident, Frank. A tire blew on the bus. Tim kept the bus standing and got us to the side of the road. I think it was more dangerous waiting on the side of the road than the actual tire blowing out.”
“Well, whatever,” Frank said. “Accident has a better sound to it.”
Luke rolled his eyes. Mack caught him doing so and lifted his hands in question. Luke shook his head. “What else are they asking?”
“The tour,” Frank said. “Playing with Chasing Cross. Taking over for Chasing Cross. The new album.”
“The new album?” Luke asked. “You said that so comfortably. As though an album has been recorded.”
“Well… you know… you guys have been writing some stuff. Right?”
“That’s a thin line there,” Luke said.
“Listen, give them what they want here, okay? You’re supposed to be in studio and you’re not. Everyone’s worried about you guys right now. Tell them you’re fine. Tell them you’re writing music.”
“You got it,” Luke said.
He walked with the phone in his hand, away from his ear, as Frank kept talking. Luke didn’t care about what Frank had to say. He was annoyed, tired, his throat felt off, and every time he looked at his band he felt like he was letting them down by not confessing his throat issue.
Luke put the phone on the counter in the kitchen area and pressed a button to bring Frank’s voice to life for everyone to hear.
He was still rambling about numbers and recording.
“Who the hell is he talking to?” Mack asked.
“He thinks me,” Luke said.
“Wait, what?” Frank called out. “Hello? Guys?”
Everyone stood silent for a few seconds before they all started laughing at once.
“Yeah, that’s funny,” Frank said. “Real funny.”
"Frank, we're all here," Luke said.
"Okay. I'm going to walk to the studio in a second. First, I have to ask a serious question. No dumb answers."
"Only dumb questions," Gray said.
Mack lifted the bottle of whiskey and said, "Here, here!"
"Guys, I'm serious," Frank said. "Just for my knowledge... two things. First, is everyone okay?"
"Okay how?" Luke asked.
"I've got this thing with my left big toe," Mack said. "It's all crusted..."
"Oh, come on, man," Trent said.
"What?" Mack asked.
"I'm talking about the accident," Frank said.
"It wasn't a damn accident," Luke said.
"Whatever the hell you want to call it," Frank said. "Are you guys okay? I mean, you're on a tour bus. You're not strapped in by seat belts. Something like that happens and it gets your heart racing, you don't realize you're hurt until later. I'm asking a serious question."
"I'm fine," Luke said. "Guys?"
Everyone else nodded and agreed. There were no injuries from the blown tire on the tour bus.
"Okay, good. Now, for my next question. I know you guys like Tim... but I have to know. Was he drinking or anything?"
"Wait a second," Mack said. "You think Tim did this?"
"No."
"You do. Frank, it was a blown out tire. Drunk or not, Tim had nothing to do with it."
"Tim saved our lives," Luke said. "He kept the damn bus straight and on the road. You should call and thank him for what he did. Any other driver would have been swerving and then we would have had some injuries."
"Okay," Frank said. "I wasn't there, okay? I'm just checking. That's all. I need you guys safe and in one piece."
"So you can cash in on us," Jake said.
"So we all can cash in on this," Frank said.
Luke snarled his lip and shook his head. He hated when Frank talked like everything was about money and how to make more. Luke respected that only in the sense that the more Fallen Tuesday made, the more they got to do. They got
to meet more fans, play bigger shows, and create a huge budget for their next album. Sure, the money was nice, but Fallen Tuesday would always write their own music, record it how they wanted it to sound, and they would always make sure their fans were happy with everything about the band.
Luke touched his neck and swallowed. How bad could it get? How bad was it? What would the resting and rehab be like? Worse yet, how long would the fans wait? It was no secret how fast Fallen Tuesday had broken big and taken over where Chasing Cross left off. What if some no name band was right there, waiting for their shot?
"Okay," Frank shouted. "We're all set guys. I'm with John right now. He's the host for the radio station and the interview."
"Hey guys," John said. "Everyone alive out there?"
"We're fine," Luke said. "Just a little detour."
"Hell of a detour guys," John said. "We're on air in ten seconds. Standby."
An intro to the show sounded and Luke looked at the rest of the band. They didn't seem very excited or impressed. Luke understood it. He would have rather been there in person. At least this way, he didn't have to sing.
"Ladies, gentlemen, rockstars, and ramblers," John said in a professional voice. "This is John taking you home, bringing the party alive, and right now on the line I've got five survivors of a tour bus accident... that's right, they were supposed to be in studio, but instead they're calling from a hotel where they're recovering. Fallen Tuesday is on the line. Guys, how are you feeling?"
"We're good," Luke said. "Really good. I mean..."
"It was harrowing for a few seconds," Mack cut in. He winked at Luke. Luke didn't like this. They were playing into something that wasn't true. "We have a hell of a tour bus driver who kept the bus on the road and got us to safety."
"Wow," John said. "So they tell me a tire blew out?"
"Yeah," Luke said. "Unexpected, of course."
"Sure," John said. "Well, I really wish we had you guys right here in the studio with us. A ton of fans were waiting. Plenty are still here... hey, can everyone say hello to Fallen Tuesday?"
An explosion of cheers tore through the small speakers of Luke's phone. It made Luke smile. Some fans were just so damn dedicated.
"Listen to that," John said. "Guys, does it ever get old?"
"Never," Luke said. "It's almost unreal still."
"You had a major rise in fame," John said. "Sharing the stage with Chasing Cross and then taking over. How does it feel to tour?"
Luke nodded to Gray.
"It feels amazing," Gray said. "To get out there and get up on stage and see all those fans. Every night we play for thousands of new people waiting to hear our songs and join in on the fun. Our goal at each show isn’t just to play, it’s to bring everyone together."
"It's like a jam session," Luke added. "With twenty thousand people."
“A jam session with twenty thousand people,” John said. “I love it. Okay, guys, everyone wants to know about the upcoming album. I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want some new music.”
Luke laughed. Frank was lucky that they weren’t all together. If they were, Frank would have been well deserving of a punch in the face.
“I can’t say much to that,” Luke said. “We’re writing. We’re touring. We’re enjoying everything around us.”
“We were even writing a song on the bus before the crash,” Mack said.
Luke looked at Mack and mouthed, the crash?
Mack shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
“Sounds like you have some material right there,” John said. “Is that where you get your songs from? The road? Life?”
“Our first album was songs we’ve had for years,” Luke said. “This one is a different animal though. The fans are going to love it.”
“I wish we could have had a sample,” John said.
A sample?
That implied that if they were in the studio, John would have pressured them into playing new material. There was no new material.
“I wish we could have been there,” Gray said. “Next time.”
“Next time,” Luke repeated.
John asked a few more questions about the road, life, and women. The band answered all questions and the interview wrapped up with John letting the band hear the cheering fans again. The call ended and Luke stared at his phone for a second, taking it all in.
“That was good,” Trent said. “I can’t believe all those people showed up.”
“I know,” Luke said. “I feel guilty.”
“Why do you feel guilty?” Gray asked.
Luke looked up and opened his mouth. On the surface, there was no reason to feel guilty. Luke hadn’t made the tire on the bus blow out. Luke hadn’t caused the delay that caused the cancellation of the radio show. But Luke did have plenty to be guilty about. Fielding questions about new material and thinking about tomorrow and the days the would hopefully follow left him even more nervous.
“Nothing,” Luke said. “Just hate the idea of fans waiting for us and we’re not there.”
“I agree,” Mack said. “But we’re right here. In a hotel room. We’ve got booze and we’ve got each other. Let’s grab some guitars and get some work done.”
The band agreed and they all split up. Luke figured he was in the clear because he didn’t have his notebook with him. He could jot down some ideas on paper and talk along as the band played. That would be the extent of his participation.
Luke watched the guys set up their guitars. Mack opened a hard shell guitar case and pulled out a beautiful black acoustic guitar. He had it custom made a few months ago, after getting his custom drum kit, of course. Mack had been playing guitar for about a year and enjoyed just strumming chords rather than learning how to play any lead parts like Gray and Jake.
“Hey, Luke, I have something for you,” Mack said.
Luke pushed from the counter and walked in to the main room of the hotel to join the band. Mack lifted a notebook from the guitar case and smiled.
“What’s that?”
“Your notebook. Figured you’d need it, right?”
Luke half smiled. He took the notebook and opened it to a random page. He hadn’t expected to see his notebook until he was back on the tour bus.
“Thanks,” Luke said.
“Now we can keep working on that song,” Mack said. “Everyone remember it?”
Gray started playing the song. Jake joined in, along with Trent, giving the song its full sound. Mack watched the way they played the chords and slowly tried joining in. Luke paged through the notebook trying to find the page he had been singing from. He considered just going back and forth and making up an excuse, but the song was really good and the lyrics in the notebook were really good too. Luke found the page and he started listening to words in his head as the song continued.
He licked his lips and swallowed. He waited for the right time to enter the song and began to sing. The first few words sounded like hell, which they always did. The next few were better and by the end of what would be the first verse, Luke was into the song. His foot tapping on the floor, he found the rhythm of the song. The louder he sang, the better it sounded. He could feel his throat growing annoyed, his vocal chords stretching, wanting to protest, but the song was really good. Luke stayed with it until the song switched into what would be the chorus. There he stopped and nodded along, trying to find the words to the chorus. That was sometimes the hardest part. Luke had plenty in his notebook and had plenty in his mind to sing about, but it was all about finding the right words that would connect with the fans and stick in their minds.
Luke waved until the song came to an end.
“What’s wrong?” Mack asked.
“I need a chorus,” Luke said. “That sounds really good. I like the verse and everything. I have enough here for two more. I just need… a chorus.”
“Then find one,” Gray said.
“Keep playing it then,” Luke said. “Let me see what happens.”
Gray nodd
ed and counted off a four count. They went back into the song, to the chorus, and played it over and over and over. Luke walked his way to the kitchen and stared into his notebook. A few minutes later, like pieces of a puzzle coming together, Luke managed to do it.
He stopped everyone again.
“I think I got it,” Luke said. “Let’s do a run through, okay? Intro, verse, chorus, break, verse, chorus, break, bridge, solo, verse, chorus, outro.”
“Is that all?” Mack asked and laughed.
“We need eleven more of these after this,” Luke said and smiled.
It was a real smile, but definitely a nervous one.
The song started again, Gray taking the lead with the same intro he played back on the bus. Right on cue as if they had been playing the song for twenty years, Jake knew just when to come in. Trent came next with his acoustic bass, the thick strings giving the deep tone and heart of the song. Mack added a few strums of his guitar as Luke prepared to start singing again.
With one more breath, he jumped right into the song.
It was smooth but had plenty of flaws. The lyrics were solid, but Luke needed to make some minor changes, which he could do in a studio. Some of the guitar parts needed tightening and there was a need for fills and riffs, but Gray and Jake could handle them after they record the song and play it back.
During the guitar solo, Luke touched his neck and stretched. Gray improvised a solo that wasn’t bad at all. Luke saw the look on Gray’s face though, it wasn’t good enough.
The song went into the last verse and the last set of choruses before ending with an outro. When it was done, Mack jumped up and held his guitar in the air.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”
“I like it,” Luke said. “I really like it.”
“The only thing…,” Gray said. He put his guitar down.
“What’s wrong?” Mack asked.
“I don’t want this to be some sappy acoustic album though,” Gray said. “We’re built on sound, man. Loud guitars. Pounding drums. Lyrics that are catchy but have a deep meaning to the fans.”
“We’ll get there,” Luke said. “Anything we write now we can always work on in the studio. We can jam at the next venue if you guys want. What the hell, right?”
“I don’t want to lose our sound,” Gray said.
Luke closed his notebook and tossed it toward the kitchen counter. He stepped up on the coffee table and looked around at the band.
“We will never lose our sound,” Luke said. “I don’t care about contracts. About money. About touring even. I care about our music. Our fans love us and our music. Keep it that way.”
The band agreed and celebrated with a stiff drink. Luke jumped from the table to the floor. Mack lifted his guitar and started strumming some chords. Luke smiled as he recognized it as one of their hit songs.
“Come on,” Mack said. “Let’s have a little show for ourselves.”
That’s all the convincing Jake and Trent needed. They had a guitar and bass lifted, ready to go. Gray took another drink from the whiskey bottle and sat on the arm of the couch, his fingers already moving up the neck of the guitar, playing the lead riff to the song Mack still strummed. It was so good. Luke loved the sound and when it came time to sing, he thought about his voice. The bus tire blow out was supposed to be a benefit. Luke had planned on relaxing, calling his doctor, and looking for some remedies online. He had planned on doing nothing to strain his voice.
Then came the chorus to the song. The fire and passion within Luke was too strong. He couldn't help himself. He was born to be a rockstar. He was born to write music and share his emotions through songs.
Luke closed his eyes and sang.
A Voice to Love (Fallen Tuesday Book One) (A Brothers of Rock Novel) Page 4