by TL Travis
“Yes, each of us understands what it entails and are ready to sign. Right guys?” Stoli looked to each of us, and we all nodded in return.
“Come on over, boys, sign on the line above each of your legal names.” Sal handed the pen to Stoli first. Behind us we heard Easton snapping pictures. Social Sinners the dream was now Social Sinners, the reality.
Mickey was the last to sign, he handed the pen back to Sal before turning to face the rest of us. Without thinking, we dog piled on top of Stoli, burying him below us. Happy tears dotted our cheeks and the smiles we wore were blinding. Our laughter mimicked the sound of the camera shutter snaps and internally I knew we were thankful Easton was catching this memory for us to be able to look back on later in life.
“Ha-ha, okay boys let’s finish the tour.” Sal put the contract in his briefcase and motioned us toward the hallway.
The guys brought their instruments in with them, so he first took us to an area we could use for practicing called the tuning room, where they dropped their gear off at before we continued. When we got to the production room, the looks on our faces mirrored one another’s – awe struck. This room blew away the little rinky-dink one we’d used for our demo CD.
“Guys, this is Dave. He’ll be the producer working with you.”
We each shook his hand and introduced ourselves.
He leaned back in his chair before addressing us, “Nice to meet you. I’m excited to get to work on your next CD. Sal passed on your demo copy and I have to say I was impressed.”
“Thanks man,” Stoli said.
“I’m usually here early and stay until God awful hours every night. Here’s my number, text me if you need anything, but don’t come barging in because chances are I’ll be in the middle of mixing something and need to dedicate that time to that artist,” he said as we started exchanging numbers.
“Oh, I need make sure you each have mine as well,” Easton rattled off his number, we each texted him and Dave back to the sounds of the numerous pings filling the air.
“All right boys, we’ll leave you to it. Easton and I have some work back at the office, but he’ll check in with you later to see how things are going. Good luck.” They waved as they headed toward the front door, we returned to the tuning room where we’d stashed our stuff in to get to work on the melodies for the lyrics we’d completed.
After they’d unpacked and set up, we jumped right in.
“Hey guys, I want Time to Move On to be an acoustic. We could play that on stage mid show to give you guys a break, but I think if we all played on it then it would lose the meaning behind the lyrics that an acoustic would capture. Is that cool with all of you?” Stoli asked us as he handed over the lyrics.
If the stars are aligned tonight
I know I’ll be alright
Even though I know
No one’s gonna be there when I get home
Every time I reach out to you
You turn and run
Never there when I need you
Never there when you said you’d be
And here I sit, waiting for something that’s never gonna come
I watch you walk away from me
And straight to another’s arms
Why can’t you see what I see?
Chorus:
It’s time to move on
Time to let my heart heal
You’ve broken me down
Left me failing to believe
You failed me when I put my trust in you
And I failed myself, by believing you
I was lost when you found me
Broken and bleeding
Only to be left again
Worse than when you found me
I need to find my own way
Not rely on anyone else
Stand on my own two feet
With no one holding my hand
It’s time to stop dreaming and face reality
The one where your heart doesn’t belong to me
I need to find another to give mine to
But you have no idea how hard that will be
Chorus:
It’s time to move on
Time to let my heart heal
You’ve broken me down
Left me failing to believe
You failed me, when I put my trust in you
And I failed myself by believing what you said, was true
Finally able to stand on my own
Living in no one’s shadows, but my own
Feeling the sun shine down on me
Reborn…to my own…
Now the time has come
For me, to move on
“Dude, this song is depressing as fuck,” Diamond complained.
“Yeah, but it’d make a stellar ballad,” I added. “Good call on making it an acoustic.” But it was full of so much pain that it made me sad. We used to be able to talk about everything, Stoli and I, and more than anything I wished he’d open up to me again. I missed us.
I glanced over, hoping to catch his eye, but he was looking everywhere but at me and was once again fiddling with the dog tags around his neck. We were still broken, and I needed to find a way to fix it before it was too late.
He played the music he’d written alongside it while I tried to fit the lyrics in. After a couple of tweaks, we were good to go and ready to record it. Stoli had done all the leg work and it was clear this one had been at the forefront of his mind.
“Stoli,” I whispered, hoping only he could hear me.
“Yeah?” He kept his eyes focused on tuning his guitar.
“This song,” the words bunched up in my throat. I stared at him, willing him to read my mind.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He stormed off down the hallway.
I dropped my head in my hands, when I felt someone touch my shoulder. “Remember, let him come to you,” Diamond reminded me.
“He’s breaking my fucking heart.”
“You’re not the only one nursing a broken heart, man, open your fucking eyes.”
Seemed everyone knew something I didn’t, but they weren’t willing to tell me what it was.
“I know that look, Joey. It’s not my story to tell. If you don’t figure it out you’ll have to wait until he’s ready to tell you himself.”
“There was a time not so long ago where he told me everything.”
“Times change, people change. You either go with the flow or walk away,” he said before leaving me alone, drowning in my own thoughts.
Or was it wallowing in self-pity and mourning the loss of my best friend.
I sat there until Cindy, the receptionist came back to get us for lunch. Evidently Sal had it catered in, he probably knew we’d lose track of time like I assumed most bands did when they went into the studio.
My presence was met with silence in the breakroom until Mickey hollered, “Yo,” to get my attention before tossing me a water bottle.
“Thanks,” I muttered, grabbing a plate and a sub off the platter. We ate in silence, something that never ever happened, and it was eating me alive and I’d had enough. “Why are we walking on eggshells?” I looked around before my eyes landed on Stoli, staring down at his plate. “You Stoli,” I waited for him to look up. “Fuck man, we’ve been best friends since for fucking ever now you can’t even stand to be in the same room with me. I don’t get it. Tell me what I did so I can fix it.”
“You can’t fix it.” He put the dog tags in his mouth before letting them fall back against his chest. “This is my problem and I’ll work through it. I’m sorry for bringing the vibe down.”
Finally, he looked up at me, I saw nothing but sadness in his brown eyes and I wanted so desperately to take it away.
“This is big for us and we can’t afford to screw it up. Sorry if I’ve brought the team down, let’s move on and put out the best fucking record we can.”
I could see he was trying to make the best of it, unfortunately I knew his moods better than anyone and the fake
smile he had plastered on his face didn’t fool me. But I wasn’t going to call him out on it in front of the guys. If or when he’s ready to tell me what I did, I’d be there to listen. And hopefully, be able to fix it without someone slapping the shit out of me for my stupidity.
After we finished eating, we headed back in the room to start working on the rest of the tracks. We’d gotten through two and were on the third when Dave came in to say goodnight. Glancing down at my phone I saw it was already ten thirty p.m., he wasn’t kidding when he said he put in late nights. Looked like we’d be doing the same.
“Guys, it’s after ten already. Think we should call it a night and get back on track tomorrow?” My throat was taking quite a beating as I realized I hadn’t done any of the exercises I’d learned while on the road to prep it. There was some hot tea with honey begging me to get home and curl up with a cup of it while memorizing the new lyrics I needed to get down.
Seemed everyone agreed as they packed it up, but left their gear behind before we headed out to the van. We dropped Mickey off at home along the way and told Stoli we’d see him in the morning after we parked in the driveway. Diamond and I headed inside to a quiet house since my dad was already in bed. I hopped in the shower and went downstairs to make some hot tea while Diamond showered. He was still showering when I came up to my room and plopped down on my bed with the lyrics and tea in hand.
The rest of the week was met with long days at the studio. Once we got going, we lost track of time and by the weekend we already had the music written for eight of the twelve tracks we’d determined we were going to record. Week three came, and we found ourselves recording the first track. We spent an entire day on one song, which Dave informed us was the norm. He said it would take a couple of days for us to get familiar with his ways and vice versa, which helped because we were afraid of missing our deadline at this point.
We decided to put Time to Move On at the end of the CD, which was the easiest and yet at the same time the hardest track to record. It was just Stoli and I in the recording side of the studio while Diamond and Mickey sat with Dave in the control room. Stoli was beside me on a stool and I stood behind the microphone with headphones on. When Dave gave us the cue, Stoli hit the opening notes while I took a deep breath before singing the first lyrics. It took all I had not to open my eyes and stare at him, but I knew if I did that the words would hit me like a ton of bricks and we needed to get this track down. Something in the song was calling out to me, but I’d be damned if I could figure out what it was. When we were done, he set his acoustic back on the stand and walked right past me and into the control room. I sat alone for a few more seconds, to try and center myself before removing the headphones and joining the rest of my bandmates on the other side of the glass.
“All right guys, great job. Let’s call it a night and tomorrow we’ll start editing the recording,” Dave told us. And the remainder of the week was spent doing just that.
On Friday, day thirty of our studio time, Sal and Easton met with us to let us know the guy selling the used bus agreed to our price and we could pick it up whenever we wanted but recommended someone with a CDL (Commercial Driver’s License) be with us to drive it home. I knew my dad had his CDL and was sure he’d go with us. When it was time to go back out on tour Sal said he’d hire a licensed bus driver for us.
The four of us plus my dad and Brett drove down to Tacoma the next day pick it up. We’d only seen pictures of it, but Sal assured us it was a good deal and finished the transaction for us. It definitely wasn’t anything pretty to look at, but the windows had already been blacked out, so no one could see in which was great. But the inside needed a complete reno which we got to demoing immediately once it was parked in our driveway. From the sounds of it, Sal was finalizing our next tour, and this needed to be done before that because our van hit the three hundred-thousand-mile mark on the last trip we’d taken it on. The beast had been a good van and we’d still use her for running around while in town, but for tours we really needed more space that wasn’t shared with other bands.
Thankfully we still had funds banked after Sal cut the deal, but that was quickly depleted once we started putting our new lady back together. Why was it that vehicles were always named after females? The beast wasn’t a feminine name by any means, but we still referred to the van as though it were a female. Just seemed odd, especially considering only one of the four of us even swung that way. Go figure, but when all was said and done our baby girl Betsy was reborn.
We worked on her before and after band practices, and my dad and Brett helped on their days off too. Mary even joined in by sewing us new curtain dividers and we were able to frame up the bunk beds, so each could house doubles instead of twin mattresses. Not much walk space in between, but that was the least of our concerns. With two of us well over six feet tall, and Diamond right at that mark the only one who fit comfortably on a twin was Mickey.
About two months into the project, Sal contacted us about a record deal he’d set up that would happen in conjunction with a tour that started the first of the year with the guys from DD and the headliner was Maiden Voyage. It was a three-band tour and while we were still bottom on the bill, it came with other perks because Maiden Voyage were a kick ass band that dominated the charts. Only three bands meant better exposure plus for the first time, we’d be included on the memorabilia being sold so we’d finally be signing shirts with our band on it and get a slightly longer set time. That might seem lame to some, but to us it was a major win.
Somehow between meetings and impromptu meet and greets Sal and Easton had scheduled for us, we got the bus up and running in time to kick off the tour. This one would keep us on the road for the next eight months and I had to say that so far Sal and Easton were earning their keep. I hadn’t seen much of Lucas while we were in town because his dad had him flying all over to meet with clients, but he said he’d meet me at shows wherever our schedules connected. It sucked, but this was the life we’d both chosen and at least we were still together.
Chapter
Thirteen
Our road trip kicked off at the same time our new CD released. The record company set us up with so many cases to sell that it was ridiculous. There was no way we were going to sell out. But with that being said, our following increased a hell of a lot more than we thought after being holed up at home for so long.
Stoli’s ballad, Time to Move On was being played on every rock station we came across and hit the Billboard hot mainstream rock chart. Since royalties hadn’t been paid yet, we were given an advance to get the tour kicked off. We weren’t rolling in dough by any means, but for the first time since we started playing outside of Stoli’s garage we weren’t scraping up gas or food money. We’d come quite a way since sleeping in our van and walking in on guys getting blown in port-a-johns. The bed sheets that used to hang behind us on stage had now been replaced with professionally made backdrops. But we kept them and used them to decorate the bunk room on our bus.
As the tour moved on, I heard less and less from Lucas which was getting me down. When I finally got ahold of him we found our schedules would link up for the Vegas show so he said he’d meet me there. I’d already put him on the security list so when he showed up an hour before we were set to take the stage it surprised the hell out of me.
We were sitting backstage when all eyes turned to me before the voice I longed to hear whispered in my ear, “Surprise.”
I jumped and picked him up, swinging him around while peppering his face with kisses, absorbing that giggle I’d missed so much. “Fuck babe, you scared the shit out of me,” I said as I placed him back on solid ground.
“You sounded so sad on the phone. As soon as my meeting in L.A. was over, I hopped on the next flight out.” He stood on his tiptoes to kiss me.
When we turned back around, Stoli was gone. “Where’d Stoli go?” I asked the guys, both of which shrugged and kept poking at their phone screens.
“Once a bitch, always a bitc
h,” Lucas mumbled beside me.
“Don’t start, he barely started talking to me again,” I warned him.
“Come on,” he said, pulling me by the hand toward the exit. “We’ve only got a little while together and I’d like to get rid of these blue balls I’ve been carrying around.”
No need to tell me twice as I’d been hauling the mother load around myself. We snuck inside the tour bus, and in our usual needy fashion, left a clothing trail in our wake to my bunk. By the time I grabbed the supplies and laid down beside him, Easton had yelled from somewhere inside the bus that I needed to get back inside the arena.
“Fuck.” I tugged at my hair in frustration.
Lucas looked up at me, those pleading blue eyes boring holes deep into my soul.
“Hand jobs?” he asked, fisting mine.
“Yeah, but we gotta hurry.” I knocked his hand away, wrapping mine around both of us. “Fuck, it’s not gonna take much.”
“That’s okay, it’s better than nothing.” He leaned over, taking my lips in his while thrusting his hips up in my grip and moaning.
His lips trailed down over my throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, but I didn’t give a shit. Right now, I needed a fast release and between his lips on my neck and our cocks in my fist it was headed to a happy ending.
“Now guys,” Easton yelled, clearly pissed.
Stroke, stroke, stroke. “Fuck!” I yelled, spilling over onto our hands.
Frustrated, Lucas complained, “Screw it, let’s go.”
“What about you?” I felt bad that he hadn’t come.
“You can take care of me later.” He stood and started dressing.
When we came out from behind the curtain we found an extremely pissed off Easton standing there with his hands on his hips. “Not cool, Joey, not cool at all,” he said before storming off the bus with us lagging behind him. The guys were just as pissed off as Easton was and Stoli was staring daggers at both of us.
