Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story
- Автор: Lister Ann
- Серия: Sheet Music #1
- Год: 2011
- Язык: голландский
- Год: Lulu.com
- ISBN: 9781105173578
- Жанр: Прочая древняя литература
Электронная книга - «Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story». Краткое содержание книги:
“Sounds great, guys,” Michael praised them from the empty first row. “Take a break. I need to make a phone call.”
Buzz quickly grabbed Annie by the arm and dragged her and Ivory out the back door. “Look, this is getting way out of hand. We need to have a band meeting immediately or I get the feeling Gary is going to quit.”
“I know, I know. I’m getting the same feeling too,” Annie replied. “And it’s all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” Buzz replied, leaning up against a tree.
“I’m the one that entered us into that contest!” Annie shouted.
Suddenly Gary appeared on the back steps, rubbing his forehead as if he had a splitting headache. “That guy is an asshole,” he announced. “I don’t know how much more of his crap I can take before I walk. I don’t need this shit. This is supposed to be fun!”
“I agree,” Ivory added. “Just because he had a drug problem doesn’t mean I do.”
“I don’t think you’re giving him a chance to prove his point,” Sammy said from the doorway. The four of them turned around, startled by his deep, Lou Rawls voice.
“Of course you’d say that, you’re his fucking friend,” Gary shot back.
“True. But I’ve seen Mike in action and witnessed some of the miracles he’s produced out of shit. Unfortunately, I have also been on the sidelines when he and Brian have gone toe to toe over creative differences. They’re both good, but most often, Mike’s ear is better.” Sammy came down the stairs to stand at their level. “I think you need to hear the end results, with the changes, before you go pissing into the wind.”
All four exchanged glances, muttering beneath their breath.
“Give the changes a week, and I guarantee you’ll agree it sounds better,” Sammy added, then headed back inside.
Michael was still on his cell phone when Annie and the others hit the stage. Gary grabbed Annie by the elbow and stopped her. “He’s got one week to prove his point,” Gary spat.
“Fine!” Annie answered, yanking her arm free of his grasp.
“And don’t say I never did you any favors,” Gary barked.
“I don’t want any favors from you, Gary! If this works out and we win, it benefits you too, not just me!”
“Oh really? Well the way I see it, you've got a lot more to gain than just a record contract! Don't think for a second I don't know what's really going on here.”
“You don’t see shit,” Annie screamed back, strapping on her guitar for the second time. Suddenly she could hear her voice echo and realized how loud they had gotten. Her eyes nervously darted around the stage and observed the stunned faces of her band-mates. Then her eyes settled on Michael. He had stopped talking into his cell phone mid-sentence. The receiver hung loosely by his face.
“I’ll talk to you later, Brian.” Michael finally said, never taking his eyes off Annie. Then he approached the stage. “Is everything all right here?” he asked.
“Yeah fine,” Gary growled.
Annie darted off stage and headed straight for the bathroom. A few seconds later they heard the slam of the bathroom door.
It was obvious Michael was at a loss of words. He started to speak several times and then stopped as if trying to select just the right words to convey his point. It was hard for him to believe things could have gotten this bad, and so quickly. In less than two weeks, he had managed to transform a successful club band into a bunch of ranting lunatics, ready to rip out the others’ jugular veins. Quietly, he entertained the thought of walking out the back door, never to be heard from again. He didn’t need this headache and neither did they. But, there was Annie to consider. If he left, he would also be leaving her and the thought of that made his heart ache.
“Ah, listen,” Michael said, clearing this throat, and pacing aimlessly in front of the stage. “I just got off the phone with Brian. We’ve scheduled some time for you in the studio at his house next Monday night. I figured you might want to hear for yourselves how much better you sound with the new changes in place.”
“You mean a recording studio?” Buzz asked.
Michael nodded. His right hand rubbed contemplatively at his lips.
“You want us to record a demo?” Gary asked, with a hint of skepticism.
“Yeah, I guess you could call it that. Are you interested, or not?”
“Shit, yeah!” Buzz answered with excitement.
“Okay, how about the rest of you?” Michael asked, scanning the others on the stage.
Ivory nodded and Gary shrugged indifferently.
“Sammy, can you make it?”
“Sure Mike. Name the time and I’m there.”
Michael grabbed a piece of paper and began scribbling. “I’m going to give you Brian’s address and trust you won’t be giving this to anyone outside this room. For obvious reasons, he doesn’t want the general public knowing where he lives.” He folded it in half and placed it on the edge of the stage. “Bring all your equipment and be there by six o’clock. I want you to practice here first before you head to Brian’s. Okay?”
“Sounds good,” they answered.
“Annie has tickets and back stage passes for Thrust’s concert this weekend at the FleetCenter. I expect you’ll all be there. The other sponsored bands will be there too. The promoters want to do some publicity shit and officially announce the contest.” Michael sighed heavily and skewed his face in mock disgust. “Not particularly my favorite thing, but it is mandatory for Thrust as well as you. We’ll all have to grin and bear it together.”
Michael slid his cell phone into the back pocket of his jeans. “I’ll be practicing with Thrust for the rest of the week in preparation for the concert. If you need me, I can be reached at the phone number I wrote on that paper. Work through the changes I made and I’ll see you Friday night.”
Michael gave a slight wave and turned to walk toward the back of the hall. Suddenly he stopped and turned around to face them. “Oh, and I trust you won’t kill each other between now and then,” he smiled and headed for the door.
Inside the bathroom, Annie fell against the door. Her face was red from anger and embarrassment. Several times she cursed to relieve the stress but it didn’t help. Then she splashed cold water onto her face to try and extinguish the fire beneath her cheeks but even that didn’t work. The metal trash canister beside her feet then became the unwilling victim of her rage. Several times she kicked at it, muttering every expletive she knew. Ten minutes passed, maybe more, as she paced the tiny room in search of a reason to go back out and finish practicing with her band. Finally, she jerked open the door of the restroom and stepped into the foyer of the theater.
Michael was waiting.
“Michael, you scared the hell out of me!”
Michael approached her slowly, his eyes scanning her face. “I was leaving but you seemed pretty upset; and I wanted to make sure you were okay before I left.”
Annie forced a smile onto her reddened face. “Upset doesn’t even begin to describe it,” she joked. “How long have you been standing out here?”
He laughed. “Long enough to know that the trash can in there won’t survive the beating you just gave it.”