Rock Revenge_Alex's Story

by Candy J. Starr

  “Ten. Surely we’ll get ten people. There have to be a few regulars who turn up no matter what. And the next band, they might have friends who get there early.”

  “Ten might be doable.”

  I pushed the food around my plate. The pasta had seemed like a good idea but once I got it, it was just cardboardy and blerk. Far too heavy for my stomach.

  “Maybe fifteen?”

  “Maybe.”

  It’d be bad to do the show with an empty stomach but I couldn’t eat that food.

  “What does it matter?” I asked. “If we get five people or five thousand, it’s all the same. We just have to make sure we are the greatest band they’ve ever seen. We’ll play like it’s a packed stadium, like we’re stars. Because even if five people pay to see us play, they’ve paid good money and they deserve to have us triumph.”

  Pete nodded. “Well said. And Holden King will be there?”

  “That’s what he said, although I can’t promise anything. He might’ve just been talking shit.”

  Sally met us when we got back to the club. She went through the rundown one more time. I noticed a few people standing at the bar. All strangers. Alex wasn’t among them, and that was a relief. My hands already shook so much, I wondered if I could hold the guitar. As much as I’d talked big, even five people would be judging us. And even five people could think we sucked worse than anything they’d heard before. We weren’t mucking around in front of our friends. This was professional. No excuses.

  I went to the back room and fixed my makeup, checking my lipstick hadn’t smeared. The heavy metal guys all slumped around on couches. Not one nervous glance among the five of them. One of the guys moved to let me closer to the cracked and bespeckled mirror.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “I meant what I said earlier, you guys sounded great up there.”

  I turned and shot him a smile. At least we had one fan here, although if he thought that was enough to get him into my pants, he was sorely overestimating himself.

  Now that I was at the club, I just wanted to get on stage. That feeling wasn’t helped by the metal guys, and the strong smell of curry and stale farts that enveloped them. I left the room and wandered out to the passageway. It was a short corridor, filled with drum kits and other gear. At one end was the stage, at the other end, a fire exit. There was a locked door, as well as the backstage room.

  Ferdie and Pete found me pacing and handed me a drink.

  “Vodka and cranberry,” Pete said. “That’s what you drink, isn’t it?”

  I’d never drunk vodka and cranberry before in my life but I took it from him. Pete had trouble with everyday life details, like what people drank or their hair colour or details like that. If it’d been Ferdie, he’d have known exactly what I drank, which brand and the perfect temperature.

  Pete looked up, staring at something behind me. His face turned ashen. I slowly pivoted to follow his gaze.

  Alex walked through the doorway.

  Tension rose up in my stomach before I had time to put on my tough chick mask. I was glad I hadn’t eaten that pasta. My revenge plan was great on scope but lacked a bit in the finer details. This feeling was one of those details.

  Alex

  Well, I’d been mistaken when I’d thought Dee would have her say then quietly leave town. She hadn’t left town and, up there on the stage, she sure as hell wasn’t quiet. When I’d seen her getting ready to go on, I wondered what kind of madness it was. She was in a band? Surely that was a joke.

  It was no joke. Not even close. I guess that made sense. Jake had been a brilliant musician and she had that gift too. Any band with a hot blond in a skimpy skirt out front would get attention from the regulars but she got something more. Respect. She knew how to perform. Even more, she radiated a charisma that made people sit up and take notice.

  If anything, I’d expected her to be doing a cutesy chick thing. All breathy vocals and sweetness. But this wasn’t cute and it wasn’t sweet. It was raw and violent and insane. Pent-up anger released on stage in a way that should’ve had me shitting my pants, since I could guarantee it was aimed at me.

  It’d sure given me a jolt to see her backstage, guitar slung around her, looking like she owned the place. Before I’d had a chance to say anything to her, Sally interrupted us.

  “Time to go on,” she said, and gave the band a broad grin. As her gaze went from Dee to me and back again, the grin slid off her face like it’d melted. She had no idea what was going on but she sure realised that there was something. Hell, even I had no idea what the thing was between us. Dee hated me but she wanted to be around me? That did not bode well.

  It was then I’d noticed Pete standing behind Dee. The last words he’d said to me were “don’t be a fucking idiot.” How do you greet someone after all that? We’d been band mates, we’d been friends and now we were nothing.

  I have him a curt nod. He gave me one back. Awkward. Made me wish he’d slammed his fist into my face. Least that way I’d have a ground zero to build from. The other guy, Ferdie, I knew him too. Just a face and a name, nothing more. I wanted to talk to Pete, like old friends, ask him about Steve, ask him how he was coping. But that was a distance I couldn’t hurl.

  I followed them out and headed to the bar to watch. There was no way I was going to miss this. Pete was a decent bass player, probably better than Fabian, the bassist in my band. Pete never did anything startlingly original but then, do you want that in a bass player? Someone steady and reliable, that’s what a good bass player should be. Pete was all that and he knew how to pick up what I was putting down. I didn’t need to explain things in minute detail like I did with Fabian. But then, that’d been the old days. That band had a whole different dynamic than the one I had now.

  Still, I’d like to have a jam session with Pete some time. If we could ever bridge things between us.

  There were about five regulars in the bar when they got on stage, and about as many staff. No one paid them the slightest bit of attention. Until Dee started playing. She wasn’t technically brilliant, not even close, but she had a fiery passion that came close to igniting the room. I’d heard a thousand bands play in this room. Some, I never even understood why they bothered. They had no guts, no balls. But Dee had the fire.

  She jumped around the place, all taut energy. She screamed and she wailed. Her white hair streamed out behind her, moving as though it had a mind of its own.

  The pain in her voice was my pain. I wanted to run from the room, to escape the accusations that were there, but I’d become mesmerised.

  I’d drown in her voice rather than tear myself away, as though caught in a rip that dragged me along, more powerful than my own body. All I could do was give up the fight and move with it because any struggle would just exhaust me and leave me for dead.

  The woman was a witch.

  They finished their first song but the applause of a few people barely made a ripple in that small room. During their second number though, the guys in the second band came out from backstage, staring in awe. They’d be on soon and they didn’t have a hope in hell of keeping up that level of tension.

  People came in slowly, still nowhere near a full house but enough to make their cheers heard. A decentish crowd for a weeknight.

  Dee flashed a grin at the room and slammed into the next song. The two guys were just there to prop her up. She was the focus, the energy, the force.

  A few guys around the room looked at her with more than just musical appreciation. The girl oozed sex. Her hips ground against her guitar, her breasts rose magnificently above it. She intimidated in the way a lot of guys took as a challenge. I wanted to grab every single guy that looked at her in that way and pull them out of the club. If I could, I’d throw them down the stairs and sprawl their bodies on the street outside. They had no right looking at her with that lust in their eyes. She was mine.

  Except she wasn’t. She never would be. Every single guy in this place, even the old and decrepit, had m
ore chance with Dee than I’d ever have.

  “She’s fantastic,” said Holden, sliding into the seat beside me. “I’d have never thought she was capable of this, shy little thing sitting at the bar the other day, as though she’d flee any moment.”

  I nodded. Then turned to him.

  “She was at the bar?”

  “Yeah, she came in to see Sally and hung around afterwards. She seemed so nervous about it, I said I’d check them out.”

  Hell, one thing I did NOT want was Dee getting too friendly with my staff. I’m sure they’d heard rumours, God knows what they’d heard, but that was a whole other thing. I could hardly forbid her from coming in here, though.

  The band went into their last song. My hand shook. My brain froze. I had no idea how to deal with this, and that was a feeling I wasn’t used to. They could not play that song.

  Dee

  Every trace of nerves and fear melted away under those stage lights. From the moment I walked on stage, I knew this was where I was meant to be. The times we’d played at friend’s parties and practice gigs had been nothing on this. All the pain I carried with me transformed. I screamed my feelings out to the world instead of keeping them wrapped up inside.

  We finished our first song and a few of the old drunks clapped. I couldn’t see them with the lights blinding me but I was as grateful as hell to know there was someone out there listening.

  As we started playing the next song, something went wrong with my guitar lead. My heart stopped. I gave the plug a good shove and hoped for the best. A screw up like that could throw off my tentative confidence. Pete raised his eyebrows at me but I kept playing. If it wasn’t the connection to my guitar, I had no idea what it would be. I looked toward the sound guy, Hamish. He gave me the thumbs up.

  I got through the song with no problem. A few more people had gathered, we got a few cheers, but they seemed far away. This wasn’t about them. It was about me and the guitar. I had a power up here that didn’t need an audience. All I needed was to get the words out, the words and the pain behind them.

  I had no idea how we even sounded.

  We only played a short set, which was a good thing. We had a limited number of songs. Some from Jake’s notebooks that I’d worked into complete songs and one that Pete had written. I took a back seat while he sang on that one. It gave me a chance to get my breath back, crack open a bottle of water and look over the crowd.

  I couldn’t be sure but it looked like Alex sat the bar with Holden King. He had turned up. Not that it meant anything. Holden might think we were the worst amateurs he’d ever heard. I didn’t need his approval anyway.

  Before we started into the final song, I took a deep breath. This would be the hardest. It was a song Jake had been working on just before he died. He’d not finished it but I’d worked with Pete to add the music that Jake hadn’t written.

  I played the first verse with a sense of satisfaction. This was going better than I’d even expected. The words and the music worked so well together. Perfection. It was a sweet song, much sweeter than the rest of our set.

  I’d just started on the chorus when the sound cut out. We kept playing but nothing, only the beat of Ferdie’s drums. Pete and I stared at each other then turned to the sound desk. Alex stood beside the sound guy. I couldn’t see his expression and no one said a word. Even Ferdie stopped drumming.

  “What the fuck?” screamed one of the heavy metal guys.

  I unplugged my guitar and headed off stage. I’d get my gear and leave. Before I could get to the door though, Alex had moved across the room and blocked my way.

  “You are NEVER to play that song.”

  “Like hell. I’ll play whatever song I want.”

  “I’m telling you —”

  “It’s Jake’s song.”

  “I forbid you.”

  “You forbid me? Just you try to enforce that. What are you going to do about it? Get your parents to write me a big, fat cheque? That’s how you deal with things, isn’t it?”

  With that, I pushed past him. I wanted to get my bag and get the hell out of this club. All those feelings I’d had on stage vanished. I was back to being me, nothing had changed. One moment I’d felt like I could fly but now I’d crash back to the ground. With one hell of a thud.

  Alex got in front of me, putting his leg on a box to block my way. I kicked his ankle but he just flinched, not moving. So I jumped up on the box, passing him that way.

  He grabbed my arms, holding me tightly in his grasp. I struggled but couldn’t get away.

  “Listen to me, Dee. You can’t play that song. Ever. Jake wouldn’t have wanted it.”

  I kicked out at him. I didn’t want him touching me, I didn’t want his hands burning into my skin.

  “Yeah, well you know what else Jake wouldn’t have wanted? To have been killed by some dickhead who shouldn’t have been behind the wheel. I think Jake most definitely wouldn’t have wanted that. Anyway, don’t worry, I’ll never play at your club again, so it’s not like you’ll have to hear it again.”

  He let go of me and I went to get my stuff from the band room. The heavy metal guys had started and the thunder of their bass shook through the room. They were loud, I’d give them that. I had no idea where the hell Pete and Ferdie had gone. I’d have liked their support.

  “I want you to play here,” Alex yelled after me. He followed me into the band room. “I want you to play. You have undeniable talent.”

  “Whatever. I’ll take my undeniable talent elsewhere.”

  “I’ll pay you. I’ll put you on a retainer. That’s a helluva a lot more than any band starting out would ever get. I’ll set you up in my rehearsal studio, mentor you.”

  I glared at him. He did it. Just like I’d said, he thought he could throw money at this and fix it.

  “Just tell me what you want, Dee. Name your sum, so long as you don’t play that song.”

  I strode across the small space until I was millimetres away from him. I could sense the beat of his heart, the tension of his body. I wanted to speak but knew the emotions welling up in me made that impossible.

  Instead, I smacked him as hard as I could across the face.

  “Your money is no good to me. It’s dirty money. ‘Fifteen Minutes of Sunshine’ was Jake’s song and now it’s mine.”

  The thud of my heart almost drowned out the noise of the metal dudes on stage. I stood, glaring at Alex. He glared back at me. My chest twanged and it wasn’t just hatred or anger.

  “Dee, you don’t know what that song means.”

  I stepped closer, forcing him to move back. If anyone was doing the intimidating here, it would be me.

  “It’s a love song. Do you know what it means? Have you ever loved anyone, Alex, other than yourself? Have you even given one tiny, weeny fuck about anyone else?”

  Alex

  I’d not been lying when I’d told Dee I wanted her to play at the club. With her looks and her sound, she’d pull in the punters like crazy. There was nothing emotional or personal in that. It was just good business. It was all about the music and getting bums on seats — well, bums through the door anyway.

  When I tried to get to sleep though, all I could see was the way Dee’s hips moved when she played, the guitar grinding against her as though she was making love to it. She’d been cute as a kid, a pretty little blond thing, but she’d changed into something else. Sharp cheekbones replaced the chipmunk cheeks. The platinum hair contrasting with the dark, smouldering eyes and red, red lips. How many times had she been kissed? Because those lips were made for kissing, that was certain.

  I wondered if she was dating Pete. If she wasn’t, he was working on it. He looked like he wanted to wrap her in a blanket and hide her away from the world. His gaze upon her had been territorial, and he wanted her a million miles away from me.

  Since I couldn’t sleep anyway, I threw on some clothes and went out for a walk. The city was just coming to life with the first rays of light hitting the buildings.
/>
  A couple of drunks loitered outside my building. I glared at them until they moved on. Surely the concierge should deal with things like that.

  I tried to think of a way to win her over. Money wasn’t going to work; she’d made sure I knew that in no uncertain terms. I’d never win her trust, not now. She wouldn’t even listen to me.

  Pete, on the other hand, so long as he knew I didn’t have my eyes on Dee, would be easily persuaded. If he thought it’d advance his career, he’d do what it took. And, once I had Pete on board, he could take on the task of persuading Dee.

  A cafe across the road was opening its doors for business. I walked in and ordered an espresso. I’d never noticed this place before, even though it was near the club. It was all polished wood and gleaming metal. The guy behind the counter had a huge hipster beard, so I figured the coffee would be decent. If hipsters were good for anything, it was making coffee.

  I chatted to him while he set up and told him to swing by the club and catch some of the bands. That got me my coffee for free.

  So, first order of business was to talk to Pete. He was still angry with me but he knew more about the situation than Dee would ever be allowed to find out. He’d never breathe a word to besmirch her memory of Jake as the perfect brother. I’d not even think of mentioning it to him. He knew.

  If I sweetened the deal, Pete’s anger would soon fade.

  I had no idea how to find him, though. Maybe he’d gone back home but I saw no reason why Dee would travel all this way just to play one gig. She had some demented master plan to get me, that much was true. She was temptation wrapped in a helluva nice package but she’d never forgive me and never trust me. It didn’t matter how much her eyes smouldered, those eyes would only ever look at me with contempt.

  I sat at the bench, swirling the dregs of my coffee around in the bottom of the cup. Then I had a thought and got my phone out. I knew someone who might have Pete’s number.

  It took a while for her to answer. I was ready to leave a message when she picked up.