Diary of a Rocker's Kid (D.O.R.K #1)

by Haley Allison

  She clings to me for a long time, and all the while my thoughts are racing in my worry. What’s going to happen to her now? If her parents somehow find out what she’s doing with Jerica, it could mean the worst for her. What if I screwed her over by bringing her here, giving her a taste of this amazing life only for it all to be ripped away at the end of the summer?

  After a while, she wants to return to the others on the beach, and I keep my arm around her as we walk back. When her tears have completely subsided, I ask, “Ana-love, are you sure you want to do this?”

  Ana sighs. “I know it’s risky, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for me. I can’t imagine saying no to Jerica Valrey.”

  I nod. I get that. I couldn’t imagine saying no to Gio, either.

  “I’ll explain my situation fully tonight and ask her to keep this private. Hopefully she’ll understand.”

  I nod again, and Ana squeezes me around the shoulders. “Thank you so much for telling me,” I say.

  “Thank you for understanding. You’re the best, girl. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “You have to swear you won’t tell,” she teases me as a throwback to our conversation in Kentucky.

  “I’ll take this secret to my grave if you ask me to.”

  ***

  A couple days later, Gio brings Dalton over to take a look at my new old guitar. He has it in his hands, and he’s gazing at it with the same awed reverence that I felt when I first held it. “Ohhh my God…can I play it?”

  “Sure.” I plug it into my amp for him. We’re down in the sunroom, which is now the permanent music room in this house, and Gio is watching us from the sofa. I adjust the amp settings, and Dalton wastes no time plunging into a flawless version of an advanced Black Angel guitar solo. The muscles in his forearms bulge as his fingers fly over the strings and neck. He doesn’t miss a single note, and it’s possible he might be better at this solo than Cass.

  After the last chord, he grabs his head with both hands and laughs—a deep, musical sound. “I can’t handle this! It’s too epic!”

  “That was awesome,” I tell him with admiration.

  Gio sighs from the couch, fixated on his phone. “Dammit…Steph needs me to send him something from his computer at home. I’ll be right back.” He gets up and leaves out the back door, leaving Dalton and me alone. Judging from his nonchalant attitude, I’m guessing Dalton makes him listen to guitar solos all the time.

  “Can I hear you play something?” Dalton asks. He takes off the guitar and hands it to me. “I’m curious how Grim’s daughter sounds on this baby.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I adjust the settings and start playing the intro to “Riot” by Three Days Grace. “Sing along if you want.”

  “Okay.” He clears his throat, and then when his voice leaves his body, I almost stop playing in shock. I laugh breathlessly, and he stops, fearing the worst. “What, is it bad?”

  “No, no, definitely not. Keep going.” We resume the song, and I can’t get over the flawless blend of his voice with my guitar. He sounds almost like a younger version of Dad, except his voice has more grit to it. After he sings through the first chorus, I can’t hold the question back anymore. “What have you been smoking to get gravel like that?”

  “That’s just my voice,” Dalton says, chuckling. “I don’t know why it’s like that.”

  “You’re starting a band, right?”

  “Yeah, and I would kill to have you in it,” he says with a grin.

  “Damn, I wish I knew for sure I was sticking around. We’ll be here for the summer, but after that it’s up in the air.”

  “Well, hey, if you do stick around, hit me up. You would make a phenomenal lead guitar. Can you sing backup, by any chance?”

  “Hell yeah! And I write music too.”

  “Really? Would you mind showing me something you wrote?”

  “Sure…it’s not finished, but here’s the first part.” I start into the same song I showed Gio.

  When I reach the end of what I’ve got so far, Dalton immediately falls to his knees on the floor and folds his hands to beg. “Please please please please please stick around? Please?”

  I’m dying laughing as Gio comes back inside and walks onto this scene. “What’s going on?” Gio asks.

  “I just played my song for him, and he’s begging me to be in his band.” I take my guitar off and lay it to the side.

  “I told you he’d love you,” Gio says with a wink. “You guys wanna go outside for a little bit?”

  Both of us nod, and we all walk out the open door to the patio. We sit down at one of the tables while Ana swims a little ways out from us in the pool.

  “Hey, is she going out with anyone?” Dalton asks, pointing to Ana with his thumb.

  “Yeah, um…she went out with someone a couple nights ago.”

  “Ah…well, damn. It seems like all the pretty visitors are snapped up in a hot second as soon as they get to L.A.”

  “You’re going to have to step up your game if you’re going to compete with me,” Gio says with a proud smile directed at me. I reach over and take his hand, and we link fingers like we always do.

  “Come on, man, you know I don’t do relationships,” Dalton says.

  “Aww, why not?” I ask him.

  Dalton waves it off. “I don’t want to get into it right now. It’s complicated.”

  “Well, all right. Does it have anything to do with your music dreams?”

  “Yeah…how did you know?”

  “I’ve thought about the same thing. Relationships are hard to keep up once you get hardcore into touring, I’ve heard.”

  Dalton snickers, not making eye contact. “That would be the understatement of the year.” There was an undertone of bitterness there. It’s almost like he already has experience with that. “Anyway, I’ve already got one woman who’s going to miss me when I’m gone. My whole world revolves around Dev. I’m afraid she’s going to be a nervous wreck when I leave her.”

  “Aww, well I’m sure that just means you’re a great brother.”

  “Well, my world kind of has to revolve around her, since we ran out of parents to rely on recently.”

  “Oh man, what happened?”

  “My dad has always been out of the picture, and my mom recently died of cancer. We live with my uncle now, whom neither of us ever knew very well.”

  “Wow…I am so sorry,” I say.

  “It’s okay. Sorry to bring the mood down.”

  “You’re good. My mom is out of the picture, obviously, so I can kind of relate.”

  Dalton gets a call all of a sudden, and I barely hear Devon’s voice coming through the speaker, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. Dalton says, “Hey, you okay?” He sighs. “Again? I—yeah, okay, I’m coming home. Hang in there. I’m coming as fast as I can.” He hangs up, irritated. “Gio, I gotta go. Dev is having a panic attack again.”

  “Okay, man, see you later,” Gio says. Dalton hurries off the patio and around the mansion to his car.

  “Man, that is so sad,” I say. “I can’t imagine losing Dad and having a sibling to take care of.”

  “It’s been pretty hard on him. He’s tough, though. He never lets anyone see him break down.”

  “Do you think he was serious about wanting me to be in his band?” I feel a little selfish for even thinking about that, but I’m just so damn excited.

  “Definitely. You are the Grim Weeper’s daughter, after all.”

  My stomach twists with guilt. Is everything in life just going to be handed to me now?

  Chapter 17

  June 15, 2015

  Back to Missions

  Things are still hot with Gio and me, but I came here for a reason, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get my answers. Talking to Dalton today made me realize how crucial it is for me to find my mother. If something ever happens to Dad, I don’t want to be an orphan. I’d like to at least know who my mother is, even if she really is an evil witch.


  I’m still focusing on the women in the pictures with Dad, and I’m down to only two: Amelia Maynard and Katherine Crest. Amelia kind of looks like me, and she did appear with Dad in more than one picture, so I’m looking into her story carefully. She has no children my age. I made sure to check that this time. She also has an uppity signature, which validates one of my clues. She acted as Alfonzo’s love interest in a movie once, so that would be weird if she turned out to be my mother. I could say Gio’s dad kissed my mom.

  Gross. Nasty. Now I’m hoping that doesn’t turn out to be true.

  Anyway, the W3 reunion is heavy on my mind as well. We’re going on Johnny’s show in a couple of days, and I’m really looking forward to meeting the other members of the band. Their names are Carl Wright and James Corsetti, bassist and drummer respectively, and they go by the stage names Kite and Squillo. I guess what I’m really looking forward to is getting explanations for those weird-ass stage names. Carl’s makes sense, his is obviously a play on his first and last names, but Squillo? That’s probably the weirdest name I’ve ever heard.

  Two more days, and I’ll get to meet Dad’s bandmates and Johnny McIntyre face-to-face. I’ll also have to talk about the pool picture on national television.

  Shit…is it too late to cancel?

  Ttyl,

  Mads

  ***

  Two days later, Dad and I are waiting on the set of Johnny McIntyre, and ‘nervous’ does not even begin to describe my feelings about this whole thing. My palms are sweating bullets, and my left eye has developed a twitch. The twitch is partly from my new contacts, which I got for the sake of the show and not having to worry about glasses anymore. I’m not used to things being in my eyes, but I’d rather deal with that irritation than risk having another accident in front of the whole country.

  Before going into makeup, Cass and I secretly met with Dad’s other bandmates, who are hiding out in a room backstage where Dad is not likely to find them. I finally got an explanation for Carl and James’s stage names, Kite and Squillo.

  “So, explain those stage names to me,” I said.

  James had to explain both of them, since Carl was high as a kite. “I think Carl’s is pretty obvious, but mine is a little less straightforward. It’s an Italian word for a blast or a flourish. I can be a bit of a showoff on stage.”

  “Nice! I seem to be surrounded by Italian people lately.”

  “Consider yourself lucky,” James said with a wink.

  Currently, Johnny McIntyre himself—a handsome, dark-haired, middle-aged man—is reading off an intro he wrote for us, and he’s sitting at a desk in front of an image of the Los Angeles skyline. He’s on a raised platform in the middle of a black stage-like set, and there are two chairs next to him ready for Dad and me. We met him behind the scenes before he went on set, and he was so excited to meet Dad face-to-face that he almost couldn’t contain himself. Dad told him to call him Mike and gave him an autograph, and he promised to give one to everyone in the audience who wanted one.

  Johnny finally wraps up his intro. “And now, it is my honor to present to the nation, for the very first time in seventeen years, the Grim Weeper of W3 and his daughter, Madison!” Ear-shattering applause and cheers result, and I shakily follow my father onto the set of Johnny McIntyre.

  As soon as I turn my head and see the audience, I feel like a badass walking onto that set. Everyone is screaming his name, and there are even a few young, attractive women in the front who are acting like crazy fan girls. We carefully step up on the platform and take our seats, but it takes a minute for the cheering to die down. Finally, Johnny is able to be heard over the din.

  “Wow, right?” He chuckles with Dad over the response from the crowd.

  “I know, thank you everyone.” Dad waves, eliciting yet another roar of applause. “It’s overwhelmin’. It really is.”

  “Thank you so much for joining us today. I know it took some convincing from your daughter here. Hi, Madison!”

  “Hi.” I giggle nervously.

  “Everyone, in case you didn’t know, this is the girl you have to thank for the Grim Weeper’s return to Los Angeles.” Everyone cheers, and I start blushing hard. “Our Basket Baby here jumped through a ton of hoops to get her dad here and make it as special as possible, so thank you, Madison.”

  “It was nothing,” I say, still laughing. God, how embarrassing…and cool…and embarrassing…

  Johnny talks about what a pleasure it was to meet Dad backstage and announces Dad will be signing autographs. Then he says, “Mike, tell us a little bit about what you all have been doing here in L.A. for the past couple of weeks.”

  “Truthfully, we’ve been pretty decadent and lazy. Mostly, we’ve been shoppin’, eatin’, and hangin’ out at the mansion. Seventeen years away from home makes you want to stay close for a while.”

  Oh my God. He just said “home”…

  “Well, not to be inappropriate, but I know Madison here has been having some fun.” Light laughter comes from the crowd. Instant buzzkill for me. Now it’s time for my moment of truth.

  “Um…yeah, about that. I’d like to explain, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure, go ahead,” Johnny says.

  “Well…what happened at that party was not what everyone thinks it is.” Johnny gives me a look like, ‘Oh, really now?’ I go on to explain that I fell in and my swimsuit top came down, and someone snapped a picture without my knowledge or permission.

  “Oh my God…that is quite a different story from what we were all told,” Johnny says.

  “Yeah, all those magazines calling me a party girl are completely wrong. I am not a party girl. I’m just a dork who fell in a pool.” The audience chuckles.

  “Did you ever find out who took the picture and posted it?” Johnny asks.

  “No, but we’re looking into it.” Then I go on to add something Dad coached me to say. “If anyone has any information, we would really appreciate them coming forward. Repercussions will be a lot less severe for anyone who comes to us with what they know.”

  After that, Johnny asks Dad questions about what our life was like in Kentucky, and then he asks about his music career and whether or not he has any plans, and Dad is pretty vague about the latter. I happen to know Johnny is totally BSing with these questions right now so Cass and the others can get ready on the sidelines. After a five-minute conversation, Johnny finally announces that’s all the time he has for today.

  “However, we have some other guests waiting backstage that I think you’re going to want to see.” Dad squints at him in confusion, and Johnny smiles. “W3, come on out!”

  Dad gasps as our heads whip around to see Cass, Carl, and James coming out on the stage with the guitars. The roar that results from the audience is almost deafening. Johnny’s crew drops a curtain on the side to reveal James’s drum set and the mics that have been set up, and the bandmates walk right on over to the staging area and start getting ready to rock. Dad is practically having a panic attack next to me…a good one.

  “Grim, would you do us the honor of performing a song?” Johnny asks.

  Dad looks at the crowd, then at the band, and then his head comes around to me with a flabbergasted expression.

  “Go on!” I yell, and Dad laughs.

  “All right!”

  The audience roars again. He stands up and sprints in the direction of the stage, and the first thing he does is give Carl and James gigantic hugs, laughing and crying at the sight of them. I feel tears of my own coming on as Johnny and I exchange a we-did-it look and a fist bump.

  I just fist-bumped Johnny McIntyre. What!

  The band takes a minute to conference together and warm up, and then Dad announces, “We’re gonna play an old favorite, ‘Tearing into Silence.’” More cheers. Some people in the audience are straight-up sobbing. This reunion means so much to so many people. I had no idea when I planned this just how awesome it was going to be.

  The band starts playing, and people
quiet their cheers down to hear them. Smoke rises up on the stage, and the main lights go dim on the set. Multicolored lights flash over the band, and a white backlight comes up behind them. As soon as Dad opens his mouth to sing into the mic, another surge of suppressed cheers comes from the audience.

  Dad and Cass exchange glances as they perform, and now I see what Cass meant when she called him her ‘on-stage soulmate.’ They feed off each other and fuel each other’s music, and together, they’re unstoppable. This particular song involves an impressive guitar solo by Cass, and her face gets lost in her mass of blonde hair as she leans down and shreds her heart out. James blasts out a powerful, thundering drumbeat at the end of her solo, which leads them directly into the last portion of the song. It’s a flawless performance, and after the last chord of the song is played, Johnny wraps up the segment amidst more thunderous applause.

  People don’t stop cheering even after the cameras have stopped rolling. The bandmates talk among themselves for a few minutes, catching up, and Johnny turns to have his first one-on-one conversation with me. “Madison Daley, thank you so much for what you did here today.”

  “Oh no, thank you for having us.”

  “No really, do you know how high the ratings for this show are going to be?” Both of us laugh. “This was a fantastic idea.”

  “Well, I’m happy to help.”

  He leans in a little. “Listen, I’m sorry about what I said about the party—”

  “Oh please, don’t apologize,” I say, impressed he even thought to say that. “What you said was nowhere near the worst thing I’ve heard.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” A crewmember comes up behind him, signaling that he’s needed elsewhere. “Well, I have to go, but I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate this.”

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McIntyre.”

  “Likewise, and call me Johnny.” He extends his hand to me.

  I shake it. “Well then, you should call me Mads.”