Sound Bites: A Rock & Roll Love Story

by Sound Bites (epub)

  Beth and Eddie were still going strong, and he would usually join us on Sunday nights for pizza and new episodes of Entourage. However, when he didn’t show up one Sunday and Beth came home with a strange look on her face, I knew something was up.

  “Where’s Eddie?” I asked, pulling two veggie pizzas out of the oven.

  “He’s not coming over tonight.” Beth sat down at the kitchen table, still looking confused. “Have you… tried to call Dylan at all lately?”

  The truth was, I had, but I always chickened out as soon as I heard his voicemail and hung up.

  I relayed this to Beth, who replied with a wince. “So you don’t know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Eddie just found out today,” she explained. “I guess Electric Wreck was offered the opening slot for The Great Escapists on their upcoming tour. They’re scheduled to leave next week. So, Dylan isn’t going to be home for at least a month.”

  “That’s great!” I exclaimed. “That’s a huge opportunity for them!”

  And then it dawned on me that I had built something I was no longer a part of. I couldn’t phone Dylan and congratulate him. I couldn’t watch the shows and be a part of their success. It was all behind me now.

  And that’s when I burst into tears.

  “I’m sorry,” Beth said, wrapping her arms around me. “Take a deep breath. Remember, stress is bad for the baby. Try to think positive.”

  “There’s nothing positive to think about,” I said, between sobs.

  Beth pulled me away from her, looked me straight in the face. “Renee, you have to tell him before he leaves. You don’t know how long he’ll be gone or when he’ll be back.”

  “And ruin his tour?” I shook my head. “This is probably the only thing that’s cheered him up since the break up. I can’t do that to him.”

  Beth forced a smile. “Well, then I guess you’re more selfless than I thought.”

  ***

  “Elaine, I’m fine. Really.”

  Attack of the eye-bulging Gestapo. Day number two-hundred and sixty three.

  Elaine sneered, looking me up and down. “Well, you don’t look fine. Are you still sick?”

  I hadn’t broken the news of my pregnancy to the girls at work yet. I already had enough to deal with, I couldn’t handle any excessive questioning about my life. I took my compact out of my purse and stared at my reflection in horror. For once, I had to agree with Elaine. I was a mess. I didn’t even bother trying to cover it up with makeup anymore. My eyes had developed two giant rings around them that didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon. My skin was blotchy. My hair was a disaster. It was frightening.

  “Yes, I think so,” I lied. “I’m still not feeling very well.”

  “Well you should go home early and get some rest. You look terrible.” Elaine spun around and waltzed back to her office.

  Eight train stops later, I arrived at Beth’s house, threw myself onto the futon and propped my laptop onto my lap. Electric Wreck had been on tour for two weeks now, and every day since they’d left had felt like another weight pressed against my chest. I’d been religiously following their tour updates online through social networking sites, music review blogs, and anything else I could dig up. So far, it sounded like the audiences had been pretty receptive to their music, and as happy as I was for them, it tore my heart apart that I couldn’t be there to share in the moment. Although, I had to admit, each time I browsed the fan photos on their website and noticed I was cuter than every girl Dylan had posed with, I smiled a little inside.

  Two more weeks, I told myself. Two more weeks and then he’ll be home, happy from his tour success. Enough time will have elapsed that he won’t be bitter anymore and I can spring the news on him and hope for the best.

  At least this was what I had convinced myself.

  They had just played a show at the Music Box in Hollywood and a review had been posted in the L.A. Weekly. I inhaled deeply as I scrolled through the article. For some reason, I always experienced a split second of nervousness right before reading a new review, even though I had yet to find a negative one to date.

  Thursday’s show at the Music Box had indie music lovers everywhere lining the streets of Hollywood in anticipation of the Great Escapists return to L.A. Judging from the venue’s massive crowd, the headliners appeared to have gained a climbing number of fans since their last visit to the Sunset Strip.

  That said, the highlight of the evening most definitely belonged to openers Electric Wreck. Frontman Dylan Cavallari delivered a vocal performance unlike any other, setting the tone right from their opening track “Fallen,” engaging the audience all the way to the end. His vocal range ran from low tenor to upper soprano, often creating a vocal line that managed to incorporate the complete range within a single phrase. Their blend of straight-up heavy alternative and convincing guitar-rock brew was downright untouchable.

  I paused to wipe the tears that were forming in my eyes yet again. It never failed, every time I witnessed any type of positive recognition on Dylan’s behalf, my throat immediately closed up. It seemed asinine to continue torturing myself, but I knew that deep down, I only did it because I was genuinely happy for him, and for the entire band. There was just a part of me that ached for something I was no longer a part of.

  I turned my head away from the computer and gazed out the window, watching the rain fall from the sky. It had been down pouring since the early afternoon, bolts of lightning glowing every few seconds, the sky fading to a pale shade of pink. I’d always found thunderstorms soothing. The sound of the rain as it fell to the ground and splattered off the windows had a certain rhythm that was relaxing, almost like music.

  The sound of a knock at the door snapped me out of my daze. I powered off my laptop before getting up, knowing Beth would yell at me if she caught me tormenting myself yet again. But when I threw open the living room door expecting to find Beth fumbling for her keys, what I actually found waiting for me caught me completely off guard.

  There, standing on the opposite side of the screen door, was Justine.

  Her blue eyes widened, like a deer caught in a freeway. She looked exactly the same, brown hair trailing down to her waist, teeny button-nose, a hint of mischief paradoxically concealed on her small angelic face.

  “If you want me to leave, just say so,” she instructed cautiously, throwing up her hands in defense. “Beth told me what was going on and I just… I just felt so awful. I really wanted to see you, and see how you were doing. But if my being here is completely inappropriate and you think I should go, I will.”

  Ironically, that was the last thing I wanted. It was funny because, much like when I came face to face with David, I had forgotten how much I missed her. It was weird how sometimes you’d forget how much you missed someone until they were right in front of you. It’s like all their attractive qualities suddenly sprung back to life and you remembered why you liked them in the first place. Not to mention, considering the slowly-sinking boat I was in now, my situation with Justine and David seemed so stupid and meaningless.

  Justine was staring at me, wide-eyed, awaiting a response. When I remained silent, a look of remorse shimmered across her face.

  “It’s okay,” she mumbled. Her shoulders slumped as she turned towards the stairs. “I completely understand…”

  She was at the first step when I threw open the door. “Wait.”

  There was a split second of hesitation before she turned to face me. I took a step forward, reached out and threw my arms around her, both of us collapsing with relief. It felt good to finally rid myself of the anger I’d been carrying around for so long. And to know there was at least one aspect of my life that could be mended.

  “You want to come in for dinner?” I broke away from her and pointed toward the kitchen. “I think we have some catching up to do.”

  ***

  “So, how did you and Dylan meet?”

  Justine and I had managed to scrape the last of Beth’s cooking
ingredients to concoct some sort of vegetable stir-fry dish. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the minute it hit my lips. Once I’d devoured the first bite, it occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten anything all day, and I managed to consume the remains in a matter of three mouthfuls.

  As I glanced across the table at Justine, I realized how strange it was being in her presence, considering I hadn’t seen her in over a year. I had forced all her positive qualities out of my mind after The Incident, but the truth of it was, she was the only person I’d ever known that I’d felt a certain type of intimacy with, up until I’d met Dylan. There was always an undefined ease to our conversations, and it wasn’t just because of how long we’d known each other. Justine had a way of finding humor in just about everything, a knack for playful bantering, and an energy that always left me feeling happier than I was with anyone else. Our minds have always worked in the same way, and she was the only person who could make me laugh until tears poured out my eyes and my stomach was in knots.

  Again, all things I had managed to push out of my mind up until this point.

  But, looking at her now, I could tell something was different. Even though she still looked the same, still as pretty as ever, something about her was off.

  Regret, I realized. There was a flicker of regret in her eyes every time she looked at me. And guilt.

  “Dylan actually lived upstairs from me,” I said, answering her question. “At first, we were just friends, bonding over music, but after months of spending virtually all our time together, I fell in love with him. I was just petrified to tell him because I didn’t think he felt the same way. But one weekend, we ended up going to New York together so he could play a show, and while he was playing I met this gorgeous guy…”

  Justine arched an eyebrow. “How gorgeous?”

  “Gorgeous. Justine, I’m talking beautiful. Big brown eyes, tan, muscular… he looked like someone painted him. So Dylan finds me with him after the show and freaked out. He was a complete asshole to poor Walter…”

  “Walter?” She shot me a look of skepticism.

  “I know. There’s always something right?”

  The two of us burst into a fit of laughter. It felt good to laugh, like I had recaptured a part of myself that was lost. I hadn’t laughed in weeks.

  “So, anyways,” I continued. “I ended up leaving with Walter because Dylan had a fit and took off. When I got back to the hotel, he was waiting up for me. He ended up confessing his feelings for me, as did I, and… here we are.”

  She looked at me sympathetically. “So, how did this happen?”

  “A few weeks ago, Dylan and I got into a fight after one of his shows. I was drunk, really drunk, and his ex-girlfriend showed up. It was a bad scene. So when I got home, David was waiting on my front steps, asking if he could come in to apologize. And in a drunk, weak moment I said yes.” I shook my head. “Dylan lived in the same building. I should’ve known better.” I paused and took a deep breath. “Justine, I just don’t know what to do. I love that kid like I’ve never loved anyone before in my life.”

  “I know the feeling,” she mumbled. I sensed that she wanted to talk about it, but didn’t want to bring it up. So I did.

  “You really love him, huh?” I asked. It was a stupid question. I knew she loved him. It was written all over her; in her eyes, in her smile, in her voice. She’d lost that gleam about her, that magnetic energy. Now all I could see when I looked at her was a bleak mirror of misery.

  Justine was brokenhearted.

  What a couple of sad souls we are, I thought. I looked above us to see if I could spot the black cloud that hung over our heads.

  “I do,” she said, regretfully. “I usually don’t try to make a habit of sleeping with my best friend’s boyfriends, but I don’t know what the hell came over me. He stopped over our apartment the day after you flew home for the funeral to grab a few things he’d left there. We ended up hanging out that night, and one thing led to another, and before I knew it, we had spent that whole week together. Renee, I’d never felt like that about anyone in my life, ever. I just became completely consumed by him. I’ll admit, I was sort of jealous when you guys were dating, because I thought he was a great guy. But I never in a million years expected that to happen. And when it did, I just didn’t know what to do. You know how we were talking about marriage right before you left?”

  I nodded.

  “Well that was how I felt about him. It’s like those stories that you hear, when people tell you about when they first met their husband or wife or they just knew.” She sighed. “Well I knew. But talk about picking the wrong person to fall in love with.” She looked up at me. “Renee, I am so sorry.” She stressed each word slowly. “I can’t even begin…”

  “It’s okay,” I interrupted. “It doesn’t even matter anymore. I just have one question for you.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Are you back here for good?”

  She nodded. “I’m here as long as you need me.”

  “Well, then you’d better be sticking around for a while.” I smirked. “Or at least another six months.”

  Justine cocked her head to the side. “Why’s that?”

  I looked down at my stomach. “Well… let’s just say I won’t be able to join you and Beth for cocktails anytime soon.”

  Justine’s mouth dropped open. “No way…”

  I bit my lower lip and nodded.

  “Oh my God!” she shrieked, jumping out of her chair to hug me. “You’re going to be a mom?”

  “Why does everyone say that like it’s a good thing?” I joked, rolling my eyes.

  “I have to admit, it is a little weird,” she said, grinning. “But wait, does Dylan know?”

  I shook my head. “I tried to tell him, but he doesn’t want anything to do with me right now.” My face fell. “And I really don’t blame him.”

  “Renee, when have you ever been the type to ever give up on anything?”

  “I’m not giving up, I’m just waiting until he’s back from tour…”

  Justine held her hand up. “Listen to me. I’ve known you since we were kids, and this is not the Renee I know. The Renee I know would’ve showed up on this guy’s doorstep, begging and pleading if she had to, and wouldn’t have left until she got exactly what she wanted.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, well, it’s not that easy.”

  “That’s never stopped you before.” Justine peered at me with that all-too-familiar devilish look. “Renee, this guy obviously loves you, he’s just under the wrong impression right now. And even though you can be a conniving, manipulative pain in the ass when you want something, you usually get it. But forget all that.” She waved her hand in the air. “It’s not about just you anymore. You have something else to look out for now.” She glanced downward. “Or rather… someone.”

  I sighed. “So, what are you suggesting I do?”

  “You know what you need to do.” She turned, motioning to the door. “Go find him. And don’t leave until you get exactly what you came for.”

  Chapter 23

  When you’re eighteen, the Fung-Wah Bus is a great transportation route to New York. It’s fifteen bucks, has a built-in bathroom, and drops you off right in the heart of the city.

  When you’re twenty-five and pregnant, the Fung-Wah Bus is hell on earth. The screaming children next to you only remind you that, in six months, one of those is going to be yours. Your bus mates look at you like you’re insane because you’re the only person making heavy rotation bathroom trips because of your nausea and overactive bladder. Not to mention, the toilet paper always runs out by the end of the trip.

  At four o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, I finally stepped off the bus and arrived in Manhattan. It was the second weekend in August, only two weeks before the same date I was here last year, the weekend that had changed everything. Except that this year, instead of heat and sunshine, it had been down pouring all day. I hoped it wasn’t a foreshadowing of future even
ts.

  I came just in time to catch one of the last shows of Electric Wreck’s tour before they returned home to Boston. The show was scheduled to take place at the Bowery Ballroom, which was exactly why I’d chosen it. I’d been to the venue before, and knew it was big enough for me to blend in with the crowd and not be noticed, but at the same time, small enough that I’d be able to find Dylan afterward.

  My hotel was only four blocks from the venue, but by the time I took the train from Chinatown to Eighth Street, I had just enough time to check in, unpack and get dressed before heading over to the Bowery. I was nervous as hell. I’d spent at least a good two hours outfit-hopping in my cheap hotel room, trying to distract myself from the night that could potentially make or break the rest of my life. But as soon as I set foot out of the lobby and onto the sidewalk, the knots in my stomach slowly began to multiply.

  The way the Bowery was set up, you had to walk through the downstairs bar area before heading up the stairs to the show room. I had timed it so that I arrived exactly before Electric Wreck was scheduled to take the stage, to avoid any possible chance of running into the guys before the set.

  The show room was pitch black, with opera-style balconies lining the walls and the only light coming from the stage. It was the perfect place to be inconspicuous. I watched the sound guys come and go, my eyes anxiously watching every hall, every corner, waiting to catch a glimpse of Dylan.

  As soon as I saw him set foot on the stage, my heart felt like it had caught in my throat. I noticed him instantly, those eyes, the way he moved. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. The person that had once belonged to me. He had a black leather vest draped over his white T-shirt, chin down, eyes raised towards the sky. And when the lights dimmed and he opened his mouth to sing, it was all I could do not to climb onto the stage and curl up next to him.