****
“Aiden,” Delilah poked her head into my room with a sheepish look on her face. She was holding an envelope but she looked hesitant to give it to me.
I understand why. For the last three months, I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with. I know it. But I can’t help it.
Sell My Soul was just released last month, to some rather harsh reviews. Even after redoing most of the songs, the damn critics are still tearing it apart. I don’t get it. It’s not bad. In fact, it’s selling really well. I just don’t understand the problem.
“What’s that?” I asked my sister.
“A letter,” Dee-Lee mumbled. “From Sunny.”
“Toss it,” I told her. There’s nothing that Sunny can say to me, especially in a letter. I’ve been calling her for weeks and she hasn’t returned a single call. If she has something to say, then she can call me. Fuck her letter.
“You want me to throw it away?”
“I didn’t stutter,” I replied, looking out the window through the partially drawn drapes.
“What is wrong with you?” Delilah snapped. “You’ve been moping around here for a month! You only leave this house to do a show or hang out with Liam and Cody. Why are you so depressed? This better not be about your CD!"
“It’s garbage.”
“It’s number two on Billboard!” she argued.
“I don’t care,” I argued back. “The critics hate it, Joey hates it...I hate it.”
I picked up last month’s copy of Rolling Stone and read.
“While the fans may love it, the collaborations with the large number of pop artists leaves a disconnected feeling in this reviewer’s mind. Sell My Soul is a separation from the soulfulness that made Aiden Tyler a guitar sensation, an anomaly that music hasn’t seen since John Mayer stepped on the scene.”
“So what,” Delilah said. “She’s a critic. What she writes doesn’t matter to your fans. You put out a damn good CD and people still love you. You have nothing to worry about.”
I don't care if everyone in the world loves the album. I don't. Nothing is going to change the fact that I didn't do my best on this album and that bums me out. I need a change of scenery. I need to do something that won't have me on stage every night playing songs that I hate.
“I’m thinking about going on tour with Joey,” I told her.
“What? That’s in a week! You said you were going to pass on that.”
I sighed. When Joey asked me if I wanted to go to Europe with him, I turned it down. That was before Sell My Soul was released and before I realized that my creative writing process has been destroyed. Now, a small European tour with him sounds like a pretty good idea.
“It’s only for two months,” I said. “I think it’s what I need, Dee-Lee.”
“Whatever,” she stated. “I’m going to the gym. You tell your damn manager what you plan to do. I’m not calling her.”
****
One week later, Delilah and I were on a plane to Madrid to meet up with Joey and his band. I settled back in my seat, planning to sleep for the entire eighteen hour flight. Delilah had other plans.
She opened her laptop and began sending emails. Despite her protests in the beginning, my little sister is extremely excited about going to Europe.
“You have email,” Delilah mumbled.
I looked away from the screen. I know who’s been emailing me. But Sunny doesn’t get that I’m not communicating with her through letters and email. She won’t answer my phone calls so I’m not answering her emails. Two can play this dumb ass game.
“You know, Aiden, I’m thoroughly confused by this thing with you and Sunny,” Delilah said. “What exactly happened?”
“You know what happened.” I closed my eyes.
“So that’s all you’re going to tell me, huh? I’m your sister. Who else can you trust to keep your secrets?”
“Dee-Lee, don’t start.”
“I’m just worried about you,” Delilah said softly. “There’s something different about you.”
“Nothing’s changed,” I insisted sleepily. “Now leave me alone. I want to go to sleep.”
“Whatever you say...boss,” she snapped.
She was quiet, but I know this isn’t the end of this conversation.
Chapter 34
This tour is not a large venue tour. We’ve been playing in bars, nightclubs, small outdoor amphitheaters. It’s nothing like the arena tour that we did last year.
It feels so much better.
I feel better. This time I’m not some youngster who lucked up having caught Joey’s ear. I have two albums and a dedicated fan base. Plus, I have Grammys. The band’s level of respect for me has grown.
I’m one of them.
It’s the greatest feeling in the world. As we play one or two shows each night, I feel a weight slowly being lifted off my shoulders. Joey’s music is exactly what I need to be playing, a vibrant melodic mix of jazz, blues, and soul. I need this and everyone is starting to notice.
Delilah sat in the folding chair next to me as I sipped a rum and Coke and listened to Joey play his solo set. Our show was just about to be over. Two more full band songs and the encore. Then it’s off to enjoy the rest of our first night in Amsterdam.
“You look happy,” Delilah commented as she sat down. “Haven’t seen you look like that in months. What’s going on with you?”
“I thought you weren’t speaking to me,” I told her.
“How can I not?” she replied and swung her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “You’re my big brother. Obviously you’re going through something. I just wish you’d tell me.”
“I’m okay.”
Delilah sighed. “Have it your way, Aiden. But you can trust me.”
Later, while sitting at a bar in the Red Light District, I decided to put it all out there and get the shit that’s really been bothering me off my chest. For some reason I can’t write it down to get it out. This may be one of those times that talking about my problems may be more therapeutic than singing about it.
“So,” I started when I caught Delilah staring at me again. She just read what I’m sure to be another message from Sunny on her phone and was shaking her head at me.
“So what?”
“Do you really want to know what happened between me and Sunny?”
Delilah sipped her beer. “I already know.”
I chuckled. “You don’t know shit.”
“I know what Sunny told me and Sara that night she found out that you had changed your number.”
“She told you?” I shouldn’t have been surprised. Throughout the years, Sunny has always maintained a close relationship with Sara and Delilah even though she hasn’t spoken to me.
“Of course. She called Sara in tears. That was scary. Sunny never cries. She’s not the crying type.”
“Bullshit,” I replied. “She is the crying, dramatic, fly off the handle over nothing type. What did she tell you?” I wanted to know.
“You don’t need to worry about what she said,” was Delilah’s response. “What are you going to tell me?”
I gulped down the rest of my drink and signaled the waitress to bring another round. I waited until she sat the drinks on the table while Delilah shifted impatiently in her chair.
“The night of my album release party, me and Sunny had sex.”
Delilah rolled her eyes. “Come on man! Everyone knows that!”
“Yeah, but no one, not even Sunny, knows why I did what I did.”
“So, what was it? Did you fall in love or something?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know if it was that,” I admitted. “But being with her like that...it did something to me. I don’t know what it was but it scared the shit out of me. I wanted to be with her in ways that I know I shouldn’t have.”
“So, it was all about sex? That’s just wrong, Aiden. She was your friend.”
I grimaced, frustrated by her assumption.
“No, it wasn’t just t
hat. I wanted her. I wanted to fall asleep with her head on my chest and wake up staring into her eyes. I wanted to constantly be with her, just me and her...all the time.”
“So why didn’t you?” Delilah’s tone was not sympathetic. “Why wouldn’t you be with her when she made it very clear that’s what she wanted to be with you?”
Again, I sighed. This is harder than I thought it would be.
“Because...” I paused. “You know how I am. I’m not good enough for Sunny. I knew that I would only hurt her.”
“What do you mean, you’re not good enough?” Delilah asked, obviously stunned by my explanation.
“You’re Aiden Tyler! Any girl would be lucky to be with you!”
“That’s right,” I said. “I’m Aiden Tyler, a single, rich musician. Do you really think I can be in relationship with anyone, especially Sunny?”
Delilah thought about it for a second before shaking her head.
“If you felt so strongly about her, then you could have made it work.”
“You’re not listening,” I snapped. I took a big swallow of my third drink. “I didn’t want it to work. I like being single. I didn’t want Sunny to fall in love with me and I didn’t want to be in love with her.”
“What about now?” Delilah asked softly. She stared at me, her big brother, waiting on an answer that I know in my heart I cannot honestly give her.
I don’t know how I feel about her. I just know that I miss her. I need her back in my life.
“I just want my friend back,” I finally admitted. “That’s all. I really miss her.”
I figured that would be enough for my sister, and it was...for the time being. The look on her face did not suggest that she was done.
Will I ever be completely honest with anyone over this? Including myself?
Probably not.
****
Waves crashed against the dark rocks.
The night was lit up from the bright moon and stars.
I was walking alone on the dark beach.
In the water I could see the silhouette of a beautiful woman standing in the shallow water.
I approached her.
But with every step I took towards her, she took two steps away from me.
“Wait!” I called.
“I can’t wait for you anymore.”
I woke up. The hotel room seemed like it was closing in on me. Sunny’s voice rang in my ears.
I can’t wait for you anymore.
What the hell does that mean? Why am I dreaming about Sunny?
I sat up. Something about the dream was jarring...yet inspiring. For the first time in months, I pulled out my guitar and my notebook, compelled to write. The lyrics flowed easily, like I had been thinking of them for months. Who knows? Maybe I have been. I heard a soft knock at the door of my bedroom. It could only be Delilah.
“Come in.”
The door opened and my sister walked in, looking as sleepy and innocent as she had when we both lived in Mt. Vernon and she used to wander in my room whenever she had a bad dream.
“I heard you playing,” she said softly. “You’re writing?”
I knew that she’d been asleep in the other room of the small suite. I didn’t think that my playing was loud enough to wake her.
“Are you writing about Sunny?” she asked.
“Why would you think that?”
She sat on the bed. “Because, you’ve been saying her name in your sleep for the last two days. I just figured that you’d be writing about her soon.”
I can’t argue with her logic. My gut is telling me that I have to get this out...these feelings, these frustrations that I have over this situation with my former friend. Why not write about it? It’s what I do, right?
I carefully and intentionally avoided the topic when I was working on Sell My Soul. Maybe that’s the reason I wasn’t writing well. I probably should have channeled these feelings and wrote them down instead of trying to write around them.
Just by writing the first verse of this song I felt like my mind and heart were beginning to cleanse. This is what I need. To clear my mind.
“What’s the name of the song?” Delilah asked.
“It’s untitled for now,” I answered. “I’ll think of something later.”
“I’m glad you’re writing again,” Delilah yawned. “I guess Joey was right when he said you needed to get away. This was actually a good idea, I guess.”
I nodded. I believed him when he said it because, as my mentor, Joey has never steered me wrong.
“I want to leave Power,” I announced out of the clear blue. Delilah’s sleepy eyes popped open.
“What?”
“I want to sign with Joey’s label.”
“Aiden, that’s such a rash move...so sudden. You have one more album to put out for them. Do you really want to leave the label that has made you a star?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “I’ve talked to Joey. My contract says three albums. When I go on tour this summer, I’ll record a live album like Mayer did. That’s album number three. Then I can leave before my next studio album comes out.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
I’m always going to be looked at by Dre and Rayshawn as their way to turn their hip hop label into a mainstream label. No matter what they say, they don’t understand me or my music. If they did, they would have never accepted Sell My Soul, knowing it’s not good.
I’ve already made the decision. I’m taking control of my career. Joey has been saying this for years. I really need to start listening to him more often.
It starts here, tonight in Amsterdam.
Chapter 35
“What the hell do you mean, you want to leave Power?” Roxy half whispered, half screeched at me from across the table.
Roxy, Delilah, and I are in New York for two reasons. While I was with Joey in Europe, Roxy had been busy. She’d been approached by Calvin Klein. They want me. When she told me, I laughed until tears ran down my face.
Me, a Calvin Klein model? Yeah right.
But they weren’t the only ones who were interested in having Aiden Tyler as a product endorser. That’s why Roxy’s here; to further my career.
Delilah and I are here for a different reason and for once, it doesn’t have a thing to do with my career. My older sister is finally graduating from medical school. It’s taken so long because she went to Botswana to work with Malaria No More. She’s been back for over a year and is graduating. Thank God. I never thought she’d finish school and my parents would be bitching about it forever.
Of course Roxy wants me to extend my visit so we can meet with these companies and talk endorsements. My only hesitation about staying in New York for an extended amount of time is the possibility of running into Sunny. I’m in her city. She’s bound to pop up anywhere.
“Aiden!” Roxy barked to get my attention. “Why do you want to leave Power?”
“Because I don’t want to be the pop artist they want me to be,” I answered.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Think about me and my music,” I told her. “So what if Sell My Soul is doing well. We all know it’s not as good as it should be. They don’t care if my integrity was compromised on that album. If they did, they would have never let me turn that shit in.”
Roxy laughed but it was a smart ass cackle, not that she found what I said to be funny.
“You’re talking about integrity? Didn’t you make the decision to work with rappers and pop singers instead of your band? Wasn’t it you who wrote every song on the album? Power Music didn’t compromise your integrity, you did. If you weren’t happy with the damn music, why’d you give it to them? You weren’t thinking about compromising your integrity four months ago and you know it.”
I signaled for the waitress to bring me another gin and tonic. Roxy shook her head at me when the drink arrived.
“Are we going to talk about that-” she pointed to my drink- “too?”
>
“No,” I answered. “You’re my manager, not my mother. You want to lecture me about my drinking, give up the twenty percent I’m paying you.”
“Where are we on the tour preparations? Almost finished, right?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Dre doesn’t think you should tour until the fall,” she answered.
I took a big swallow of my drink. It burned nicely as it slid down my throat. I looked around the restaurant filled with New York City’s high society and celebrities.
“I’m going on tour in July,” I replied. “I always tour in the summer.”
“I really don’t feel like justifying that with a response,” Roxy said, “but you’re going to make me. Listen, Aiden, one summer tour does not constitute always. Besides, they want Autumn to open for you and she’s not free until the fall.”
“Hell no! I’m not touring with Autumn ever again! That shit is out of the question!”
“Why? What’s wrong with Autumn?” Delilah finally put her phone down and asked. “She’s pretty cool.”
“She’s pretty damn annoying,” I replied. “Did you forget how awful she was on the Power Jam tour? No, I’ll tour by myself before I let that girl open for me.”
“Fine,” Roxy pouted. “I’ll talk to Dre.”
“Tell that I want to tape the first show for my live album so the sound people have to be damn good.”
“The first show? Why the first show?”
I hesitated. We’d successfully moved the conversation past my desire to leave my record label. If I answer her question, then we’re right back at square one.
“So we can get it over with. And if it can’t be the first show, it needs to be the Atlanta show.”
“Atlanta isn’t on the schedule this time,” Roxy stated. I stared at her as if she’d really lost her mind.
“If we tour in the summer, we can’t play Lakewood because it’s already booked all summer,” Roxy tried to explain. “Unless you want to play somewhere small, like Chastain, Atlanta is out.”
I groaned. “This is bullshit. First, you all don’t want me to tour in the summer, now you’re telling me if I do, I can’t play Atlanta?”
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