Page 32 of Lucas
Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome winks and slides in across from me. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you look so familiar I just had to find out where I know you from.”
Another pick-up line. Why can’t they come up with something new? “I’m a barista at Java Joe’s. Have you been there before?”
“Nope, can’t say I have. Might be because I hate coffee. I know, right? Not too many people can say that, but I’m one of them. Now that I know you work there, though, I’m sure there’s a bunch of other things you could interest me in.”
Oh, he’s slick, I’ll give him that one. Did I mention he’s hot too? Yeah, I’m a sucker for guys with dark hair and day-old stubble. Very sexy and mysterious.
“It’s Abby, right? I’m Joel, your dance partner fromDistractionsthe other night. And I do believe your last name is Lewis and you were in my business class at NYU. So, you’re a barista now? Is that your part-time job?”
22
Lucas
After a hectic morning,we all climbed into the SUV and headed to the audition. I’d like to think I’m the kinda guy who doesn’t sweat the small things, but this is fucking huge. I know everyone is stuck in their own head with the what-ifs; hell, even I’ve been doing it for the last twenty-four hours. Just to prove it, I haven’t masturbated in two days! Two fucking days! That’s some crazy shit right there. Never in my life have I ever been so preoccupied with something that I don’t make time to quench my sexual desires. But, if I’m being really honest, I’ve been so focused on practicing I haven’t had time for sex of any kind. Could it be I’m a changed man? Fuck no, it’s just that I have more important things to focus on right now.
“Well, like it or not, we’re here,” Travis belts out like he’s on the stage. I inwardly cringe and a part of me just wishes it was over and done. I should be excited, but fear has me by the throat. And I think it’s safe to say it’s the same for everyone else.
“Okay, you guys. Let’s focus and have some fun,” Jet says. “This is what dreams are made of.” Of course, Jet, the oldest one of the bunch, is the one to give us the pep talk. Understandable. Maybe it should have been me, but I’ve been so damn moody lately that my glass is half empty. That’s about to change.
An hour later, we’re heading to the venue. It’s still early, but we’re all hoping to get a listen and a feel for the competition. There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you’re up against. It might give us that little extra push to be the best we can be.
Walking through the doors is so surreal.Gateway Centeris one of the biggest venues in the city, and we are in awe as we try to drink it all in. Behind me, I can hear Willow and Travis whispering about how they’ve always dreamed of being on this stage one day. I want to turn around and tell them today is that day, but I’m rudely interrupted when Jet grabs my arm. Stopping me. I glare in his direction, but when I follow his gaze, I’m dumbfounded. Standing directly in front of Caleb are several big-name music reps. “Holy shit,” escapes Willows lips and we stop in our tracks.
“Lucas, you’re early,” Caleb says. “Why don’t you all head down the hall and take the second left? The crew will fill you in on everything. I’m looking forward to hearing you play.” Caleb ushers his cronies in the opposite direction. Damn, what I wouldn’t do to be introduced to the top dogs, but we’re not here to rub elbows with the rich and famous, we have a gig to do.
My stomach bottoms out as we round the corner. And it hits me square between the eyes. Nothing could have prepared us for this moment. We’re just a bunch of guys like everyone else who wants to make it big. And once we step off that stage, we’ll still just be guys following our dream.
I stop dead in my tracks when Trevor says, “Look over there. Those must be the judges for the competition. Holy shit, I might be a bit fanning right now.” Standing by the stage is a line of famous singers and songwriters. Pop sensationArisha,Ace Hansen—lead singer forTheRiff—singer-songwriterQuincy Adams, and, last but not least,Carter Pagewith S&B Records. Of course the fifth wheel to make up this famous cog isCaleb Morris. Our head man.
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’reThe Sinful Sevenand 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
Turnsout I had a great time catching up with Joel the other day. I knew he looked familiar atDistractionsthe 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.