Music of the Soul 1, 2, & 3 Starter Bundle

by Erik Schubach

  He just shook his head. “My line has been ringing off the hook with questions about the name change of the tour and what's been going on in Vancouver the past couple weeks!” My heart started pounding as I tried not to snap. What the hell? In Vancouver? They trying to put the nails in Bella's coffin? It didn't look like he was intending any malice as he paced, bringing up Vancouver, still, I felt my face heat up with anger.

  I shot him a glare, speaking through a clenched jaw “One: tell them the truth, it is a farewell tour. Two: I've told you NEVER to bring up Anabella. Tell the asswipes asking, NO COMMENT!” My good mood for the day was completely shot. He stopped pacing and opened his mouth to reply but I cut him off “Get out.”

  He stomped to the door and hesitated as he put his hand on the handle, then looked back at me and said in a more level tone “Remember, you have that interview in an hour and a half.” I rolled my eyes and placed my purse on the counter as I heard him leave, noisily slamming the door, causing a slight rocking of the bus. Oh joy. Just shoot me now. Boom, plop. Now where the hell is the medical examiner?

  I rummaged through the kitchenette and prepared a quick meal. A few minutes later I was nibbling on a hot BLT sandwich halfheartedly, and curled up on the couch with my notebook to hash out some lyrics. Before I know it there was a knock at my door. I put down my work and stood, I sighed then took a deep breath.

  Grabbing my purse from the counter, I trudged to the door opening it then walking to the waiting cab where Nick was standing to see me off. I grumbled to him as I got into the cab, “Remind me why the hell I'm doing this?” He looked half amused with a crooked grin on his face, his eyes twinkling with mirth under his floppy hair “To promote the end of your tour, Mandy.” Grrr. I shot him “the” look and he chuckled as he told the driver my destination and shut the door. I glared at him through the window, trying to make him spontaneously combust as I was driven off to the TV studio. Where's the flippin' escape hatch in this car?

  I casually watched the traffic as we drove toward our destination, trying to imagine where people were going and if they were happy with their lives. Trying to keep my mind occupied so that it wouldn't dwell on the people, fine, the person, that I was trying to forget. As we neared our destination, I instructed the driver to circle around to the back entrance like I was told. Even then, there were fans of the “Daily Business” show crowding the door even with security and red plastic barricades in place.

  I paid the cabbie, and a security guard opened the door for me. I slid out and was escorted through the door. Fans recognizing me and screaming for autographs along the way. I was handed off to an effeminate assistant who wore more product than most women in his hair. He introduced himself as “Tom, or Thomas... but my friends call me Tommy.” as he ushered me through some typical nondescript studio back halls into a well lit stylist room bustling with people with clipboards and the like.

  He handed me off to the the hair and makeup people to start fussing about me, I didn't catch any names as they just went to work on me like they had done this a million times. The glare from all the lighting around the mirrors was getting to me, and I had to fight squinting or the makeup girl would fuss more. Once I was sufficiently caked with what I felt was too much makeup, I was whisked off to the green room by Tom, Thomas, Tommy and he gave me a typical walk-through of their interview process.

  I was only half listening as I'm sure I've done far more of these than he ever had. I glanced around the room. Pretty typical furnishings. A leather couch and a couple matching recliners, a coffee table with year old magazines and a small counter with a sink and a coffee maker. I grabbed one of the water bottles off the counter. Opened it and sipped as I nodded to the man babbling beside me as I looked up at the two monitors on the wall. One showed the audience bustling about and the other showed the stage.

  I snapped out of my disinterested fog as I realized he was finally winding it down. “Well that's about it, last thing, off limits topics?” I sighed and put on as serious a face as I could, spread my hands a bit and deadpanned “Any mention of Anabella West or Vancouver and I walk.” He laughed nervously, obviously thinking I was kidding. That pissed me off a little. The glare he received from me in return more than showed I was deathly serious. I mean, ninja kick your ass and feed your remains to my dragon serious. The color drained from his face.

  He checked the time on the monitors and ushered me to stage right to wait by the heavy midnight blue curtains. A sound engineer clipped a mic on me and before I could thank him, both men were gone, and another stage hand was shouting “On in 3, 2” then signaled 1 with his finger.

  [[Hello and welcome to the Daily Business! With our host Barry Reed!]] the announcer's voice boomed out through the sound system.

  The audience dutifully started applauding as the host walked on from stage left, waving and throwing exaggerated kisses to them. He stood on his mark center stage and waited for the crowd to settle before he spoke. I started feeling nerves again as I was wringing my hands. I idly wondered what was with me getting nervous all the time lately as Barry started speaking.

  “Hi everyone, thanks for joining us today. We’ve got a special show lined up for you today. Let's welcome our special guest, Mandy Harris!” Barry said as I took my cue and walked on stage, to the the studio audience clapping. I looked between Barry and the audience as I approached, my best fake smile splitting my face.

  I shook the clammy, sweaty hand he offered and then we sat in the maroon, fat cushioned fabric chairs that were arranged around the glass coffee table at center stage. “Hi Mandy, and thanks for coming to chat today.” Boring, why don't they ever start with something original? I smiled as that thought went through my head as I replied, making eye contact with him “Thanks Barry, it's my pleasure.”

  “There's a couple things on people's minds about you lately. Things people are just dying to find out about. What can you tell us about the change in direction of your image? I mean, Mandy Harris used to be the synonymous with hardcore party girl. Expected at every hip scene, and involved in anything scandalous.” My eyes dropped and I suddenly found my hands very fascinating. I hate how everyone has to keep reiterating my life's low points to me like I don't realize that's what people saw me as.

  He mugged for the camera raising his eyebrows and leaning in a bit “But reports are that you are clean and sober on your new tour, and you haven't been spotted at any clubs. Your tour bus driver even says that you never leave the bus and had all the alcohol thrown out.” He tilted his head waiting for a response. I snapped my head up when he mentioned speaking with my bus driver. Anger surged but I beat it down.

  I hate betrayal, it is bad enough that I do it, but the people I'm supposed to trust damn well better be above the standard I set. I'm a little surprised Barry didn't just say sources instead of pointing him out. I'm sure he is baiting me for one of my patented blowups on TV.

  I took a deep calming breath and smiled an almost predatory smile toward the camera, not taking the bait and replied calmly “Well, Barry, first off, he would now be my EX tour bus driver, since he's talking to the press.” This got a chuckle from the audience. I glanced out to them before returning my attention to Barry. That's it people, yuck it up, I'm dead serious.

  I continued “Let me tell you, that other Mandy Harris you are describing is dead. She was a product of the record industry crafting a persona that corrupted my life, destroying everything good in me. I think that should serve as a warning to future artists, not to allow the industry to define who you are. Be yourself and hold yourself to a higher standard with your music.” I looked to the murmuring crowd. I opened my hands like I was baring myself to him and the audience, which in effect I really was. It actually felt good to say, and I'm sure there are going to be some upset people at the label.

  I paused, reflecting a bit on how this tour started, then nodded slightly to myself, deciding to go on “I started this tour, falling back into my old ways so I could try to stop feeling again. Dri
nking and partying. I couldn't even bring myself to do that right.” I paused again, taking a breath to collect my thoughts.

  “But I cleaned up my act again after the first performance and stopped drinking, because someone I care about more than life itself, ASKED me to. Who the heck am I to say no? It hurts that I'm forced to look at myself without drowning my thoughts and emotions, but I don't want to disappoint them any more than I already have.” I was disgusted with myself that I didn't have the strength to stop without Bella asking me to. I realized I was looking down, drawing circles on my stretched out palm with my other hand as the crowd clapped. What the hell are they clapping at?

  Barry looked thoughtful, crinkling his eyes and placing a finger on his lips before removing it and speaking while looking from the crowd to me and back again “That's pretty frank and honest, Mandy. I take it that your new musical style and appearance is following your new found views? I mean, most of us would have expected you in here with leather and spikes or a torn band t-shirt. But you seem more wholesome now, and your music has huge emotion buried in it now.” He actually didn't look fake as he spoke that.

  I nodded, really thinking about what he had said “Yeah, what you are seeing now, is the me I was supposed to be when I first got into the music industry. Before my dream became a perverted caricature of a stereotypical rocker. My music is what I feel, and who I am, not what 'they' want it to be. To heck with Mandy Harris! I'm Mandy Fay Harris, simple girl from the west coast who loves her music. It's too late for redemption, but at least I can go out with a bang, with the last shred of dignity I posses intact.”

  The crowd went crazy over this revelation. I took another cleansing breath, glancing between them and the host. When the clapping died down, Barry continued, “So this is really it then? This truly is your farewell tour and not just hype?” I nodded opening my hands up again. “Yes, this is it. It started as my purgatory, my penance for hurting someone I loved. But now, I've added getting my lost voice out there, and let the girl I allowed to die inside me, have her fifteen minutes, like she should have had all along.” Barry raised his eyebrows and nodded, I had to admit, he did look a little surprised.

  He nodded appreciatively as the crowd clapped. They'll clap at anything. Man are they getting annoying, I'd release a stampede of mechanical carnivorous turtles at them, if I had any mechanical carnivorous turtles. Wait he's talking again. Focus! “May I ask, who is this mystery person you credit for your rebirth?”

  My blood ran cold and I'm sure the color drained from my face. My knees bouncing slightly in agitation. He was looking at me expectantly, leaning in a bit, I could see the smile he was trying to hold back. I hated the game he was playing now. I shot him a searing warning glance that he was treading on thin ice “Just a person that set my moral compass back to true north.”

  Barry sat back and exaggeratedly looked upward as if contemplating something for a second tapping his index fingers together. Then he looked me squarely in the eye and asked “Speaking of your past scandals and the west coast, have you been watching the news lately?” I don't like where he is going with this and let him know with a look, shooting daggers at him with my eyes. My hands were now grabbing the sides of my chair with white knuckles, ready to stand. I could feel anger bubbling in the pit of my stomach. With the slightest hint of a smirk, like a snake who just swallowed a mouse, he continued anyway, “What do you think about what that red headed firecracker is doing in Vancou...”

  I shot up from my chair, interrupting him, fighting the urge to knock the smirk of his face, and calmly stated “I'm sorry Barry, but I'm very late for setting up for tonight's concert, and regrettably have to cut this interview short.” I turned to the audience, feigning regret. “Thank you folks, it has been a true pleasure.” I walked offstage glancing back to see Barry staring at me open-mouthed, I'm sure it was mostly because he didn't get his blowup. The crowd was clapping, again. This time I agreed with them, I smirked to myself as I stalked toward the rear entrance. What? Did the studio think I was kidding about walking? Ha, suck it Barry!

  As I approached the back door I saw Tom, Thomas, Tommy standing there nervously with his clipboard and his Bluetooth headset dangling on his ear, and asked him to call me a cab. I spent the time picking at some peeling paint by the back door, smiling at the security guard and shooting warning glares at anyone who approached in the hall. I have to admit, it was kind of fun watching them turn on their heels and scurry off.

  One of the security guys placed his hand on his ear and smiled and nodded at me as he reached for the door. He escorted me to the waiting cab, there seemed to be more people behind the barricades now cheering and yelling for autographs. The security guard opened the cab door for me and I slid in mouthing a “thank you” to him. He just gave me a beaming smile as he shut the door.

  I gave directions to the cabbie and just breathed a sigh of relief, shrinking into the seat and not really paying attention to the ride back. I just drew circles lazily on the window with my finger, feeling the sun on my skin.

  Once we arrived back at the bus, I needed security to help me back inside as tons of fans were already surrounding it and not all the barriers were set in place yet. Three of them formed kind of a protective envelope as we pushed through the people who wanted to get my autograph or touch me. I find it odd that I have gotten so used to this as a guard opens the door and helped me into the bus. I closed the door and dropped my purse on the counter and took a deep breath, getting my bearings.

  I passed the time back at the tour bus firing my driver, what was his name? Joe? Melvin? Todd? Whatever. I took perverse pleasure in opening the drivers door where he was sitting and physically pushing him out to the waiting security guard.

  Then I was on my cell, hiring Darryl out from under the noses of Stars For Hope. Ninja move!

  I took a quick shower then picked out a nice dress for the concert, that's my new thing these past few shows. I ran my fingers lovingly over the new placard, feeling its smoothness with my fingertips, then put the lanyard over my head, pulling my hair out and over it, then tucked it under the dress, close to my heart.

  Security and barriers were now in place and I opened the door, nodding to a guard and walked to the big metal blue door of the venue's rear entrance. I actually stopped a few times to sign autographs, I was feeling a little relaxed tonight.

  My little raven haired makeup tornado, Dawn, grabbed me and dragged me into the makeup area. Everything was more open here, not really corridors, more like large open sprawling spaces with stagehands buzzing about, I'm sure this area doubled as convention space.

  Dawn was telling me how she felt that, with my new look lately, less was really more and she kept complimenting the new me as she quickly finished. I was feeling a little embarrassed. She turned me to the mirror. I liked that it looked so much cleaner than I would have imagined, and not garish like my normal stage makeup. The “girl next door” look came to mind.

  My hair lady wasn't there for some reason, I still don't know her name, and Dawn saw my confusion as she grabbed a brush and just teased a few of my waves a bit “I told her that with the new you, we didn't need her unless you wanted to change your look. You look awesome as is.” She smiled and I returned the smile happily.

  I ambled over to my dressing room looking up at the harsh arc lighting hanging from the vaulted ceiling. I scanned the industrial looking room and almost panicked when I couldn't locate my daisy. My heart stopped beating and I stopped breathing for a moment until I saw the slice of banana cream pie on a plate with a single fork beside it. It was sitting on the little table by the oversized fake leather couch in the middle of the space. Exhaling hugely, allowing my heart rate to normalize, I collapsed into the uncomfortable couch and reached over to grab the pie.

  I snacked on it leisurely. Savoring it with the goofiest expression on my face until I voiced a stray thought “She's right, it's good, but not as tasty as her lips.” Damnit, I have no right!

  Terry poke
d his head in the door “Five minutes Mandy!” I looked back at him and nodded... scarfing the last of the pie and washing it down with water. Then I stood and made my way out to side stage and waited for the lights to dim.

  The noise level was pretty high as everyone in the crowd was feeling the excitement of anticipation, yelling over each other to be heard. I was feeling really calm and, dare I say it, happy, as the lights dimmed and I made my way out to my speaker to sit. The moments before the lights come up are my favorite, I can clearly see the crowd without the blinding lights in my face. It helps me to connect with them as people instead of the faceless cheering organism during the concert.

  The lights came up and a wall of sound crashed all around as I greeted the masses. Not even bothering to announce it, because they all knew what was coming, I started the concert religiously with Oceans of Blue, they went crazy for quite some time afterward and security even had to pull one young man off the stage when he tried to climb on.

  I held up my hand and the noise level dropped to a manageable level as I addressed the crowd. “Okay, this tour is all about what's new, and I got NEW right here, the ink isn't even dry yet. It was inspired by my muse, it's called 'Brown Eyes'.” Once again the crowd erupted in cheers. I started strumming and the crowd went silent.

  My eyes were closed while sitting on my speaker, this one was full of hurt and pain, but all throughout it was an undercurrent of hope. If heartache could be conveyed by words, by a melody, this was as close as you could get without feeling the actual emotion. When I finished the crowd broke out into a frenzy of cheering and whistling while I just sat for a bit, before I opened my eyes, letting a tear fall before I could stop it.

  The rest of the concert flowed in a winding, twisting journey. There were highs and lows. The song selection reflected a whole gambit of emotion, ending on a happy joyous note. To me it seemed that every crowd during this tour was louder and more responsive that the last. I was still finding it hard to believe that they seemed more into it than any of my prior tours.