“Yes, that’s exactly the problem.”
“Do it for Kyle then,” Carla said. “You’ve known him for years, and now he needs your help.”
I hadn’t thought of that. If I backed out now, they probably wouldn’t have time to find another guitarist or bassist before the show. I couldn’t do that to my friend. “You’re right…but then, why didn’t Kyle ask me to join the band himself?”
Julie shrugged. “Maybe Jared didn’t tell him about your little solo performance last night.”
That could be it. Kyle didn’t know I played the guitar. Or maybe Jared had told him, but Kyle didn’t want me in the band. I didn’t exactly fit their image after all. Or even worse, maybe Kyle was upset I’d never told him I played guitar and that his brother had found out before him. Even if Kyle didn’t know yet, he’d learn the truth in an hour when I went to rehearse with them. I dreaded the look on his face when he realized I’d kept this from him for three years.
“I don’t know.” I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. “I mean, look at me. I don’t belong in their band. They’re all so edgy and I’m so…not.”
Julie faced me and put her hands on my arms, her amber eyes drilling into mine. “Stop it. Those guys would be lucky to have you in their band.”
Carla wrapped her arms around both of us in a big group hug. “If you’d like, I can do your hair and makeup tomorrow before your audition, and Julie can help with your clothes. We’ll make you look amazing.”
I gave them the biggest smile I could muster up. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”
“So you’re going to do it?” Julie asked.
I tried to think of any other protests, but when it came right down to it, I couldn’t find another reason to say no. “Yeah, I’ll do the audition.”
Julie and Carla immediately started planning what they were going to do to me in the morning, but I wasn’t feeling as optimistic. As much as I loved these girls, there was no makeup or wardrobe in the world that could make me a rock star.
FOUR
An hour later, I parked in front of the Cross brothers’ house and grabbed my gear from my backseat. I’d brought my own electric guitar and matching amp, though I wasn’t sure if I would be playing it or Jared’s for practice or the audition. I’d almost brought my acoustic guitar, too, but left it behind in the end. Villain Complex wasn’t an acoustic kind of band.
The studio’s garage door was open, and Jared spotted me as I came up the driveway. He walked over and grabbed the handle of my guitar case.
“Here, let me help you.” He took the amp, too, leaving me with empty, sweaty hands, which I rubbed on my jeans.
His leather jacket was gone, and he wore a T-shirt that said, “It’s Good to Be Bad.” For the first time, I got a close look at the tattoos on his arms: bars of music surrounded by spider webs, black stars, and roses with thorny vines. Like Kyle, he also had a triangle tattooed on the inside of each wrist, one dark and one light. I’d never realized a guy’s forearms could be sexy, yet somehow he managed to pull it off.
He set the guitar case on a long table and popped it open. He whistled when he saw the vintage sea foam green Fender Stratocaster inside. “Wow. Where’d you get this?”
“I bought it at a pawn shop, along with the amp.” Both were chipped and dented, but I loved them. They were the only instruments I’d ever bought with my own money, right after I’d left for college. The grand piano back home, my violin and clarinet, and even the keyboard crammed next to my bed were all guilt presents from my father. My acoustic guitar had been my mom’s once, back when she did things like play music. But this guitar—it was all mine.
“May I?” he asked, and I nodded.
He ran a hand over the body and neck of it with the gentle caress of someone who understood how precious it was. I watched his fingers touch each string and imagined what it’d be like if he touched me that way.
Stop it. I forced my eyes to the floor. He’s not for you.
“Very nice,” he said. “You can use your guitar for the audition or use mine if you want. Whatever works.”
“I’ll use mine, I guess.” Even though I’d played Jared’s guitar last night, it seemed too intimate now, too much of a reminder of that embarrassing moment when he’d caught me. It was bad enough being alone with him in this studio again. “Where are the other guys?”
“They should be here soon. You can start warming up if you want.”
Warming up was a little too close to playing guitar, which was the entire reason I was in the studio, but that didn’t mean I was ready to do it. I hadn’t played in front of anyone but Julie and Carla in years. And Jared, but that had been an accident. Now he expected me to play again, and the thought made me want to run straight back to my car.
I picked up my guitar and started to tune it, mostly to give myself something to do. My hands shook while I adjusted the knobs, and I took deep breaths, trying to force myself to be calm. If I didn’t get control of my fingers soon, I’d never be able to play. I couldn’t decide if I was more worried about that or more hopeful.
Jared opened another case and pulled out a deep blue electric bass I hadn’t seen before. Soon the studio was filled with the sound of us plucking strings as we tuned our instruments. We stood only a few feet apart but didn’t speak, and an awkward cloud hung between us. Or maybe that was just me; Jared seemed oblivious to it.
“So you play bass?” A dumb question, but I had to say something to end the tension.
“Yeah, although it’s been a while.” His gaze swept across the studio. “I can play everything in here to some degree.”
“You can?” My voice sounded a little too eager. I cleared my throat and dropped my eyes to the frets on my guitar. “Were you a music major also?”
“Nope. Philosophy. Something my brother never lets me live down.”
“Philosophy?”
“Yep. And now I’m a bartender who writes angsty songs, which I’m pretty sure is what everyone does with a philosophy degree.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “The job market for professional philosophers does seem to have dried up these past few years.”
“Tell me about it.” He adjusted his mic and raised an eyebrow at me. “And what lofty plans do you have for your music degree?”
“I’m hoping to get into USC for graduate school. They have a degree in music scores for movies, TV, and video games.”
“Ah, joining the enemy,” he said, referring to the rivalry between UCLA and USC.
“Maybe. There are good programs at NYU and Berklee College of Music, too, but I’d rather stay in LA.”
He studied me for a moment, his bass momentarily forgotten. “So what’s your favorite movie score?”
“I don’t know. There are so many great ones.” I adjusted my glasses as I considered. “Pretty much everything by John Williams—he did Star Wars and Jurassic Park and Indiana Jones and about a million more. I also love the Lord of the Rings scores and The Dark Knight and, oh, the Tron Legacy score by Daft Punk is amazing, too…” There I went, babbling in front of him again. His eyes were probably glazing over by now. “Sorry. I could talk about this stuff for hours.”
In response, he started singing “The Imperial March” from Star Wars. “Dun dun dun…”
“That’s the ringtone on my phone,” I said with a laugh. “Wow, that probably makes me the biggest geek ever, huh?”
“Nah. I approve.” He gave me a smile that sent a rush of warmth from my face down to my toes and to everything in between. “Who do you think picked all the quotes for our wall?”
“That was you?” I glanced at the wall behind us with all the quotes by or about villains. I would have guessed Kyle had chosen them, not Jared.
Kyle and Hector arrived at that moment, interrupting us. They stopped just outside the open garage door and stared at me like I was a weed in their garden. Jared must not have told them I was joining the band.
“This is the new guitarist?�
�� Hector asked.
Ouch. I knew I didn’t look the part, but it still hurt to hear it out loud.
“Maddie?” Kyle’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes swept over my guitar and back up to my face. “You play guitar?”
“Not really,” I said, and then realized that probably didn’t help matters, since I would be auditioning with them tomorrow. “I mean, I know how to play, but…”
Kyle turned to glare at his brother. “How did you know she played guitar?”
“Relax, it’s not what you think,” Jared said, which instantly made me flush. Great, they assumed I was one of Jared’s flings. But to my surprise, Jared didn’t reveal how he knew. “She told me last night at the party.”
Kyle’s eyes narrowed, like he found that hard to believe, but Hector cut him off. “Forget it. We all agreed—no more girls in the band. Not after what happened with Becca.”
“Hector’s right,” Kyle said. “Sorry, Maddie. It’s nothing against you.”
“We don’t have any other option,” Jared said. “Unless you can find someone who can play guitar or bass and knows our songs before tomorrow morning.”
“How do you know she can actually play?” Hector asked. “She probably just said that to get in your pants.”
“Hey—” I started to protest.
“She knows our songs?” Kyle asked and then tilted his head back to the ceiling. “Actually, that doesn’t surprise me. Maddie is some kind of musical genius. She can hear a piece one time and then play it back perfectly.”
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” I muttered, but no one was listening to me. Maybe I should leave and let them sort this out on their own. I glanced at my guitar case and wondered how quickly I could pack up and flee to my car.
“Shit, I don’t know.” Hector removed his hat, spilling his dark curls, and then shoved it back on again. “We should forget this audition and wait for the next one.”
“The next show won’t be for another year,” Jared said. “We can’t wait that long. And what if they don’t want us next year? No, we have to do it tomorrow.”
“I need to talk to Maddie alone,” Kyle said.
He led me down the driveway, far enough that the others couldn’t hear us. I swallowed hard as I waited for him to speak, preparing for the worst. He stared at the guitar still around my neck and then sighed and swept back the black hair that was always falling in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me you played guitar?”
“Um…” I stared at the ground. I hated that I’d kept this from him for so long and that he was hurt now because of my omission. But how could I explain that guitar had been my secret all these years? Something that had just been for me. Not my parents. Not my teachers. Not even my friends. I didn’t think Kyle would understand somehow. He wore his entire personality on display and didn’t care what other people thought. It was one of the things I admired most about him.
“I only play when I’m alone, and not seriously or anything,” I said. “I used to play more, but my mom…she didn’t approve. Told me to focus on piano, on violin and clarinet. ‘Real instruments,’ she called them. Probably because she used to play the guitar and that’s how she met my dad…” I trailed off, but Kyle nodded. I’d told him all about my family before. “When I was a kid, she caught me playing her old guitar and nearly smashed the thing. She was drinking, of course. It scared the crap out of me, and after that, it was easier to keep that part of myself hidden. But I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“It’s all right. I get it.” He sighed again. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“No, I’m terrified.” I choked out a little laugh. “But I also want to help you.”
His face softened a little. “I appreciate that. I really do. But I don’t think that’s the only reason you’re here.”
“Of course it is.” I tried to keep my face blank. Was my attraction to Jared so obvious that even Kyle could see it? I didn’t plan to act on it or anything.
“Is it really? Because we can’t have another Becca situation.”
“What happened with her anyway?”
“She and Jared hooked up about a month ago.” He scowled at his brother, still in the garage. “They both admitted it was a mistake the next day, but it was never the same after that. Becca started drinking more, and she got crazy jealous any time he was with another girl. They’d fight, and then I would smooth things over and then it would happen again. We all hoped she’d get over it, but then she started showing up to rehearsals drunk—if she showed up at all—and well…you saw what happened last night. I don’t think Jared actually expected her to quit the band, but none of us really want her back either.”
“Nothing like that is going to happen with me. Trust me.” Becca’s situation hit a little too close to home, and I was definitely not following in her—or my mother’s—footsteps.
“I know, but…I just don’t want you to get hurt. I love my brother, but he doesn’t do relationships. Promise me you won’t get involved with him, okay?”
“I won’t, I promise.” I gave him a smile that was more confident than I was. “And I’ll only be in the band for one day anyway.”
“True…” He gave a reluctant nod, and we went back inside.
“Everything okay?” Jared asked.
“We’re good,” Kyle said. “Let’s hear her play.”
They all looked at me, and I froze. “What? No.”
“Great, a guitar player who won’t play guitar,” Hector muttered.
“Don’t be an ass,” Jared said, hitting a button that lowered the garage door, locking me in with them. “Of course she’ll play.”
The time had come. They were all waiting, and if I was going to be their guitarist tomorrow, I had to show them I could actually do it. There was nowhere for me to run now. I flexed my fingers and placed them on the guitar. They hadn’t told me what to play, and I felt too self-conscious to perform one of their own songs for them, but nothing else came to mind either.
I remembered Carla and Julie’s suggestion earlier, to pretend I was playing for them if I got nervous. If we were sitting on our couch right now, what would they want to hear? Something mellow. Something fun. Something they liked to sing along to. My decision made, I tapped out a beat and started Incubus’s “Wish You Were Here.” It was a perfect choice because right now I did wish they were here with me.
The song was off at first, every chord sounding like it was being ripped from my hands instead of flowing smoothly. Turns out, playing for three hot musicians in their garage-turned-studio was nothing like playing in my apartment for my two best friends. But once I got into it and stopped thinking so much about how they were watching me, my fingers knew what to do. The music poured out of me as it always did, from my body into the guitar, out the amp, and then back to my ears again in a perfect cycle. I never felt this way when I played the violin or clarinet or even the piano. With those instruments, I was precise and controlled and didn’t get lost in the music. Those were work, but this—this was like breathing.
When I got to the chorus, Jared sang the lyrics, more to himself than anyone else, and I caught the other guys nodding along, too. Eventually I’d played enough, and Hector raised a hand to stop me.
“Okay, that wasn’t bad,” he admitted. “But do you actually know our songs?”
Not bad? I’d take it. Kyle gave me a reassuring smile, too, so he must not have thought I was horrible either.
“I know them,” I said.
“Told you she could play,” Jared said, moving in front of the mic. “We’re doing ‘Behind the Mask’ for the audition. Let’s run through it and see how it goes.”
I nodded, relieved. Jared had already heard me playing that song and must have approved, or he wouldn’t have asked me to join them. All bands performed one of their original songs during the audition, even though the bands used cover songs during the actual show. “Behind the Mask” was a good choice because it demonstrated the band’
s sound, plus it showed off Jared’s impressive vocals and had a catchy beat.
Hector started us off, but I was too slow jumping in and then had to miss a few notes to get back on track. Things started getting better, but once Jared started singing, I missed a chord again. As the song progressed, I found it hard to keep time with them. I’d never played guitar with anyone else before, and I was always just ahead or behind the guys. That made me even more stressed out, and then I missed more notes and so it continued. My only consolation was that Jared wasn’t doing so hot on bass either. The song ended, and the garage dropped into silence. I knew what we were all thinking—we were terrible. Less than an hour with the band and I’d ruined them.
“Well, that was a disaster,” Hector finally said. “She may know the song but that doesn’t mean she can play it.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Kyle said.
“Give her a break,” Jared said. “Maddie’s never rehearsed with us before.”
My heart beat a little faster hearing him defend me, and I had to remind myself that he needed me for the audition and that was it. Once it was over, I’d probably never hear from him again. But still, it was nice to know he didn’t think I was a complete failure.
“Sorry,” I apologized to all of them. “I’m just nervous. I’ll get it right this time.”
“Anyway, the real problem was me,” Jared said, his forehead creased as he checked the tuning on his bass again. “I’m so out of practice with this thing, there’s no way I’ll be in shape for tomorrow.”
“You’ll be fine,” Kyle said. “You wrote the bass line in this song. You know it better than anyone.”
“Yeah, but that was a long time ago.” He rubbed his face, wiping away the frustration. “Let’s try it again. If we have to rehearse all night to get it right, then that’s what we’ll do.”
We practiced the song for hours. Any time I lost my place, I focused on Hector’s drumming and got back on track, and when I wanted to throw my guitar pick in the trash, Kyle’s encouragement kept me going. Playing with them wasn’t as scary as I’d thought it would be in the end. And standing beside Jared while he sang was even better than listening to his voice in my headphones or through my computer, even better than seeing him perform live. Because this time, I was playing with him.
BANGED: Rock Stars, Bad Boys & Dirty Deeds Page 65
