Yeah, I’m speechless. And that has only happened once or twice in my lifetime. Breathing deep, I try to calm my erratic heartbeat. How the hell am I supposed to perform in front of these icons in the music industry? No idea. I feel so small and insignificant as we take it all in. The crew takes notice of the awe pasted on our faces before storming over.
“Hey, this is a private audition, I sure as hell hope you have an invitation to this gig.” The tall dude with the bald head and tats calls us out as all eyes swing our way. I love the exposure!
Jet steps up and reaches out his hand. “We sure do. Caleb approached us after our concert and the rest is history.” I need to hide the smile that touches my lips. I know he threw that name out nonchalantly, but I get where he’s headed with this one. He wants everyone on and off this stage to know we were invited by the man himself.
“Okay, great. So I’m sure you all know that because of our time restrictions, you need to use our equipment and not your own. There’s no way in hell we can set up and take down equipment for all these bands in a brief span. Guitars are the only instruments that we allow in this building. No amps, mics, or kits. Too much for us to deal with. Got it?”
Of course, we knew all this shit the day the call came through, but we all mumble a yep so he knows we’re good. We tell him we’re The Sinful Seven and he digs through a bunch of name tags. Once he finds ours, he hands them to us with the number thirty-seven scrawled across each one. Apparently, that’s our number for the audition. Then he mumbles something about playing three songs or only ten minutes, whichever comes first? Fuck, that’s not enough time to leave a lasting impression. Our eyes lock and he knows exactly what I’m thinking. I bet all the others feel a bit cheated, too.
“We have eighty-seven bands trying out in two days. That’s the reason we had to cut down on the time. And make sure you check the packet. One of these songs needs to be a cover from another band.”
Seriously? That wasn’t mentioned before. Wonderful!
***
Abby
Turns out I had a great time catching up with Joel the other day. I knew he looked familiar at Distractions the other night, but the lighting wasn’t the greatest and he’s changed so much since college. I remember him being tall and lanky back then, but now, well, let me just say he’s filled out quite nicely. He wore that t-shirt like a GQ model, stretched tight across an eight pack. And after talking to him, I learned that not only is he smart, he’s interesting and has a great sense of humor. Joel is the real deal in my book.
No, I didn’t sleep with him, but I invited him back to my apartment and found out something else about him. He’s a real good kisser. Yeah, so we have an actual date tomorrow night and I’m super stoked on a whole new level.
It solidified the fact that I need to forget about a certain musician who has me all tied up in knots. Lucas is no good for me. Sexually, hell yes, but emotionally, not so much. I’m not searching for a long-term commitment, but it would be nice if someone could return my messages. Joel fits the bill, so I’m going for it.
Hence the reason I decided to send Lucas his clothes instead of trying to drop them off again. I’ve given up trying since he doesn’t even have the decency to answer my texts. After work, I’ll pop by the post office to drop off the package. Good riddance. Right? Yeah, out with the old and in with the new.
I used to love coming to work, not so much anymore. Everyone here is miserable. We’re all walking on eggshells since we found out the shop’s been sold. There’s no more joking around. It’s so damn quiet, you could hear a pin drop. It breaks my heart, since I consider everyone I work with like family. It’s hard to believe that in a few short weeks, I’ll be saying goodbye to all of them. The insecure side of me can’t help but wonder if their silence is because of me. Do they blame me? Do they think I knew about the sale but was sworn to secrecy? Maybe I’m grasping for answers when there are none to be had. There’s no use trying to convince them otherwise. It’s best to let it go and that’s what I decided to do. If the high school bullies taught me anything at all, it’s that everyone’s going to believe what they want. Nothing will change their minds or convince them otherwise.
We all promised to keep in touch, but I know how it will all play out. Life will get in the way and our schedules will be all different, which will make it really hard for us to get together. At first, we’ll give it our best shot, but little by little it will dwindle down to a text here and there, and then nothing. I’ll miss every one of them, but that’s what adulting is all about. By the way, kids, adulting sucks.
Our regulars are also bummed that the new owners are changing over to a small bakery and deli. I’ve no doubt some of our customers will continue coming here when they realize Theresa is staying. The new management would have been crazy not to offer her a permanent position since she’s the best pastry chef around.
Apparently the rest of us are expendable. Proving what I already knew—you can easily be replaced in a heartbeat. I still have no idea what I’m going to do, but I’ve proved time and time again that I’m resilient. I’ve no doubt I’ll land on my feet. Whatever new career path I choose, it will need to be something that fulfills me. And I seriously need to find a hobby because up until now, my life has revolved around work. And that’s not healthy. With the exception of going out shopping or clubbing with the girls now and again, my life is pretty boring. I’m too young to sit around at home and let my life pass me by.
I’m just about to close up for the night when there’s a knock on the front door. Crap, I know the door’s locked but I still need to walk across the parking lot to get to my car. Do they know I’m alone? Did they see Sal leaving around twenty minutes ago? Shit, I’ve closed a million times before and this has never happened to me. Ever. What do I do?
“Abby, it’s me. Cheryl. I texted but when you didn’t answer I figured you were working.” Dammit, she’s going to give me a freaking heart attack! I click the lock and let Cheryl in.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I say. “I was debating whether to call 911.” It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know something is wrong. “You okay, babe? You look like you lost your best friend.” Sobs suddenly wrack her tiny frame and I instantly wrap her in my arms. Holding her. I soothe her the best I can, but she’s crying so hard she can’t talk. “Shh, I got you.”
Once the dam dries up and she’s able to talk, she stutters, “Mom called to tell me B-b-Betsy d-d-died and I just didn’t w-w-w-want to be alone.” Oh no, Betsy was her chocolate lab that she’s had since she was a little girl.
“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry. I was right, you did lose your best friend.” Well, that was the wrong thing to say since the waterworks begin again. “C’mon. You’re coming home with me. We can pick up your car in the morning. I’m going to throw some pillows on the floor so we can have a campout. Pig out on sushi, wine, chocolate, and finish our Netflix series.”
“You’re the best, Abby Cadabby.” Yeah, I don’t say anything since she’s sniffling so loud she wouldn’t hear me anyway.
23
Lucas
Sitting through all thirty-six bands is excruciating. Why? Some of them were fucking amazing and now that doubt I’ve been carrying around with me forever is niggling in the back of my mind. I know what you’re thinking. I sound like a broken record and all I talk about is not being good enough. Well, I have news for all of you. There would be no doubt in my mind if my sexual skills were under the microscope. That’s how confident I am about pleasing women. What can I say? I’m gifted. But when it comes to music and writing lyrics, I’m just a drop in the bucket. Millions of musicians can do it better than I can. True, there is some that suck at it, but I’m hoping I’m not one of them.
We hurry onto the stage, knowing we have little time. And to make matters worse, Jet and I are the only ones who are playing with our own instruments. Trevor and Willow are at the mercy of the venue. With that said, I’m confident they will pull it off. After all, the
y are professionals.
“Next up is, The Sinful Seven. Number thirty-seven. We’re ready when you are.” All the judges sit there with their notebooks open and their pens at the ready. Geared up to pick us apart or build us up, whichever the case may be. I know we’ll give it our best shot. When Arisha smiles and Caleb winks, it’s the reassurance I need to put me at ease. So, on the count of three, we’re belting out our number one song on YouTube. Stop the Rain.
We save the cover song for last, and we did this on purpose. Just because we love the songs we’ve written, the judges might not be familiar with them. Yeah, they could have heard some of them on YouTube, but it’s not the same as up-close and personal. This one will be the one they remember and I think we sound amazing if I say so myself. The music is on point and the vocal range of the song is perfect for my tone. We’re almost finished with the song when Caleb raises his hand. Stopping us from finishing. What the hell!
“Sorry about that, but we really need to keep this moving along. Great job!” Deflated, we thank everyone before leaving the stage. Now that our time is over, we don’t stick around to listen to any other bands. We head out in the same direction we came in.
It’s pitch dark when we walk outside, and somehow that puts everything into perspective. Our future is precariously teetering between the darkness and the light, and for the life of me, I can’t call this one. No idea how it’s going to play out, and I subconsciously reach for my phone. Abby has been blowing it up for a few days, and like an ass, I’ve ignored her. Yeah, dick move, but I have nothing to give her right now. No promises or words of wisdom will escape these lips until we find out tomorrow what our future holds.
“Just send her a text or call her for fuck’s sake.” Trevor shakes his head while giving me a shove. I’d love to hear her voice, but what do I say? “We can’t fuck tonight baby since I’m out of town and waiting for the results.” Nah, no can do. Abby doesn’t even know about the damn audition. No use telling too many people in case it all falls through. Slipping my phone back in my pocket without opening her messages is my only option. It’s for the best.
“We timed those damn songs a million times, and we were spot on!” Trevor says in frustration. He slides into the driver’s seat and just before he slams the door, adds, “Fuck ‘em! They didn’t give us the full ten minutes we deserved.”
Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed him this pissed off in all the time I’ve known him. He’s still ranting as he buckles up. “Why bother staying in a hotel for the night when we know we didn’t win the fucking thing? Let’s just go home and figure out our next move.”
Jet and I slide into the backseat and we gladly let Willow take the front. She gives us both a dirty look as she climbs in. Everyone’s afraid to speak, since we don’t want to poke the bear. Something needs to be said, however, before Trevor drives off all bent out of shape. When no one steps up to the plate, I take the high road.
“Look, I get you’re frustrated, we all are, but it’s over. Personally, I think we kicked some ass. Now, we go to the hotel as planned, rest up, and tonight we are going to party like we won that fucking record deal. Got it? Good, now let’s get this show on the road.”
I can’t help smiling when the cat calls begin. Speaking all at once, they start in on how they felt about being up on that stage with ten pairs of eyes scrutinizing them. Yeah, I felt it too, but I won’t put in my two cents. In a little over twenty-six hours, it’ll all be over. Just the thought has my stomach tied up in knots. Oh well, there’s no use worrying about it. It’s over and we gave it everything we had. Hey, if this music gig doesn’t work out, I suppose I could always become a private escort. No audition necessary.
A few hours later, we’re ready to party like champions. “It’s suffocating in here,” I say. “Let’s get the hell out and go paint the fucking town red! We just auditioned in front of the best, so let’s celebrate.” I love it when I can be the one to lift them up instead of Jet. Frowns turn into smiles and we get the fuck out.
***
Abby
Last night Cheryl reminisced about Betsy until the wee hours of the morning. We browsed hundreds of pics on her phone from the time the pretty lab was six weeks old until the bitter end. I’ve never had pets of my own, so I can only relate to some degree, but I know that Betsy was truly her best friend. Hell, I remember when she had to leave the dog with her parents during college, she was so distraught she’d cry every night. So, yeah, she’s hurting but grateful she had thirteen years with her faithful companion.
Beth felt terrible that she wasn’t available to join our campout, but she had to deal with her mom again. This time around she admitted her for a thirty-day period. It’s for the best, but it just goes to prove that everyone deals with their own demons. Lucas not returning my texts seems so trivial compared to what they’re both dealing with.
Luckily, I was able to sleep in for a bit longer since Maria opened today. Her shift was cut short last week when her son was hurt at school and needed medical attention. Turns out the poor little guy broke his arm and had to have it cast. Benjie didn’t think it was too cool until all of us signed it, then he was proud as a peacock. Strutting around showing it off to everyone.
So after a very trying week, we’re all going to the comedy club because, let’s face it, laughter is the best medicine. And God knows it’s been in short supply lately. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the comedians are going to be funny, because sometimes they just can’t relate to the crowd. Either way, it will be a twofer for me since I have my date with Joel tomorrow night. Gah, every time I think about it I get butterflies in the pit of my stomach. It’s been too damn long since I’ve had an actual date!
I’m nervous, but excited.
Three hours later, I’m showered, dressed, and waiting for my girls to come pick me up. The show isn’t until nine so we’re going to start off with a causal dinner at a nice restaurant before heading to the club. We have plenty of time to spare so we’re going to take our sweet time. It will be a welcome change from having to rush around all the time.
I chuckle when I hear the horn beep. Apparently they don’t want to waste time by coming in, so I grab my coat, phone, and keys before heading out the door. “You guys must be excited if you didn’t want to come in and bust on me.”
“Well, we were afraid you might still be in the shower, so we were doing a drive-by. Five minutes and we were outta here.” Yep, Beth is in rare form.
“Geez, it happened one time and you’ll never let me forget it.” Cheryl winks in the rearview mirror. I know she’s got my back after we bonded last night. Nothing like a death to solidify a friendship. She really is a very sweet girl.
“Where to?” Beth asks. “We have three hours to kill, so we could go to the Bistro since they don’t rush you out the door the second you finish your last bite. Or would you rather grab sushi and browse the shops on Main?”
Both Cheryl and I say, “Bistro” in unison since we had sushi last night. Beth’s none the wiser since she agrees immediately. Phew, not that it really matters since I could eat the damn thing three meals a day seven days a week. Love the stuff!
The parking lot at Bistro is jam-packed and we’re lucky to find a spot just as someone’s pulling out. We might not be able to go window shopping after all if we have a long wait time. “Are you sure you guys want to stay?” Beth asks.
“I can run in and check to see how long and then we can decide.” When they both agree, I go in alone. I walk up to the hostess desk and deflate when I see all the people lining the walls. Wow, I don’t recall ever seeing it this busy before.
“Good evening, do you have reservations?”
“Unfortunately, we don’t. How long is the wait time?” She glances at her board, erases a few things while a few names are being announced over the intercom system.
“Without reservations it would be approximately ninety minutes.”
“That won’t be necessary,” a familiar male voice ann
ounces. “Abby and her friends are joining us for dinner.” I’m stunned when Joel appears behind me and invites us to sit at his table. I’m sure the girls are going to love it since he has two of his friends in tow. Gorgeous men dressed in suits. A winning combination.
“I don’t want to impose on your business meeting.”
“Just finished, and we’re celebrating. We’d love it if you and your friends would join us.” I don’t wait any longer, I group text the girls to get their asses in here now. The night just got a bit brighter.
Once the girls come inside, the hostess seats us as several of the waitresses rush around to add more chairs and place settings. It kind of makes me wonder if Joel or one of his friends is a regular here since they’re fussing over them. After we’re seated, the introductions begin.
“I’m Joel, and that’s Craig and Barry. Both friends from back in college.” He casually points to each one, so I do the same.
“That’s crazy since Beth and Cheryl are friends from college, too.” Beth (being Beth) asks, “Why did you guys get seated right away while we had to wait for ninety minutes?”
I swear I want to fall through the freaking floor. Joel chuckles, leans in, and states, “I own this joint so I can invite as many guests as I want.”
Well, shit. He never told me about that little tidbit in passing.
24
Lucas
I wake to a pounding in my head that’s beyond anything I’ve ever experienced before. Hurts like a motherfucker. It’s even worse than the day I got wasted after finding out the illustrious Mrs. Knight wasn’t my legit mother. Today, I’m asking myself if it was worth it. Damn right, because we closed several clubs, and even if we don’t win this competition, they’ll still remember our names for years to come.
Lucas: A Rockstar Romance (The Sinful Seven Series Book 1) Page 14