KELLAN
Man, I’m confused.
I lock the bathroom door behind me and turn on the light in the one person restroom that contains a toilet, sink, mirror, and trash can. Various band stickers and band names pepper the walls.
I should be mad at Victory, but I’m not. I’m actually in a good mood after busting her chops back there in the practice room.
She looks fucking hot as hell today. Maybe that’s all it is. Guess I should’ve banged Red the other night and gotten it out of my system.
No worries. I can fix that tonight. Me and Dubs can go hit up some clubs after rehearsal. I’m sure I’ll find some girl to pass the time. Or I could dip into my phone list.
But I hate reruns.
Whatever. I’ll figure something out.
I rinse my hands in the bathroom sink and dry them with a paper towel. There’s a Metallica sticker on the corner of the mirror which I put there myself. In the mirror, I notice all the hand written messages on the wall behind me that pay tribute to various bands:
.1# si dlofneveS degnevA !!SKCOR maJ lraeP .srethgiF ooF !kcus syoB teertskcaB .seluR ttaR .nekkoD htiw ’nikcoR
The kids are allowed to write anything music related on the bathroom walls as long as they don’t cover up anyone else’s scribbles. It adds a bit of that adult music venue vibe to the school that makes the kids feel more like rock & roll rebels.
It’s all a front.
The kids who can afford to go here are lucky. We don’t even charge that much compared to some schools. That was Rich’s idea. He doesn’t drive a ten year old Toyota because he thinks it’s ironic or hip. It’s all he can afford.
Even with our cheap rates, I know a lot of kids all over L.A. can’t afford to take our classes, or even buy a musical instrument.
Man, if I had more money, I’d open a free music school.
Someday.
I check my hair in the mirror. It looks great. I look great.
Why do I care about my hair all of a sudden?
It can’t be because of Victory.
She’s not into me. She made that clear already.
And I’m not into her.
I really need to give Dubs a call about going out tonight to look for fresh tail.
Chapter 66
VICTORY
Kellan knocks on the practice room door and leans his head in, “You ready?”
“Yeah,” I answer, looking up from the Ibanez I’ve been playing for the last ten minutes. I really love this guitar. It has nothing to do with the fact Kellan owns it.
“Come on,” he motions, “we’ll be in the main room for the lesson.”
“Okay. Do I bring the guitar?”
“Nope. Follow me.”
I set the guitar in a stand and we walk down the hall.
“I hope you’re ready…” Kellan warns.
“For what?”
“This isn’t any old guitar lesson…”
“And?”
He stops and turns in the hallway and I almost bump into his chest. I stop myself short and stare up into his blazing brown eyes.
We stand in a right-angle turn in the hallway, there’s a closed door a few feet behind Kellan, and there’s no fluorescent light bank overhead, so it’s much dimmer here than the rest of the hallway. You could even call it romantic…
“…And,” Kellan whispers, “anything could happen…”
He looks down at me, his lips only inches from mine. I watch the tip of his tongue slide lusciously over his teeth. I catch a good whiff of his clean, alluring man scent, which includes a subtle note of guitar hardware, making Kellan twice as scentalicious. I pretend not to be affected by it.
Despite my pretense, I fall back against the wall, bumping my head clumsily against the sheetrock with a thud.
“An—any, anything?” I stutter and pause to clear my throat.
No, my close proximity to Kellan is not bothering me at all. Nope. Uh-uh.
He nods, his brown eyes searching mine.
Is he leaning closer?
Yes, he’s leaning closer.
I try to clear my throat, but the only sound that comes out of me is a church mouse’s high pitched sneeze: peep!
Kellan is now uncomfortably close, very large, über muscular, and hellaciously hot in every way possible.
This close, his eyes really do have a smoldering, burning ember quality. Something about seeing them in the half light of the dark corner makes them glow and makes all my muscles melt like a well used candle.
He suddenly leans toward me and I’m certain he’s going to kiss me right here, right now, and I want it. I need it. I want this handsome, musical, magical man to take me on a magic carpet ride…
Oh, Kellan…my carpet is ready for you…
I can almost feel his warm lips brushing against mine, I can imagine his big hand covering the small of my back as he pulls me into him. Or pushes me back against the wall with his strong, tattooed arms, trapping me in this dark corner so he can tear my clothes off, bite my neck, force his tongue down my throat, squeeze my ass, and do nasty things to me and my magic carpet.
My heart flies into overdrive, tittering to a wicked tempo past 200 beats a minute like an overworked metronome…
My knees quiver…
My thigh muscles spasm rapidly…
He leans closer… closer…
Do it!
Kiss me!
Kellan suddenly twists the doorknob behind him and opens the door into the room.
A blast of bright light hits my eyes.
Cacophonous noise erupts from inside and shatters our moment into pathetic pieces.
Chapter 67
VICTORY
“Kellan!” a little girl in a vibrant fuchsia knee length summer dress with a giant pile of curly blonde hair throws her arms around Kellan’s waist and squeezes her cheek into his stomach. She looks like she’s about seven or eight.
I’m standing in the practice room behind Kellan, this little girl, and three other boys. One boy has a guitar, over his shoulder, another a bass guitar, and the third sits behind a drum kit. They all look really young and tiny compared to their instruments.
I can tell from the way they’re all grinning at Kellan, they really like him.
Kellan laughs and pats the girl on the back affectionately, returning the hug. He chuckles, “Hey, Hayley. I haven’t seen you in a long time.”
“I missed you so much!” she squeals.
“I missed you too,” he smiles, but he’s looking at me and grinning from ear to ear and blushing. Kellan Burns is blushing. I never thought I’d see it.
I smile at Kellan. I can’t help it.
When Hayley releases her hug, Kellan goes around to the three boys and fist bumps each one. They’re obviously in awe of him. It’s spelled out in their shining smiles.
“Hey, guys,” Kellan says, “I want you all to meet my friend Victory.”
They all smile and say, “Hi, Victory.”
I wave at them and smile, “Hey, guys.”
“Victory,” Kellan says, “This is Matthew, Ethan, and Nick.”
I go around and shake all their hands.
Matthew has short spiky black hair and wears a Powell Peralta BONES t-shirt with the evil skeleton ripping out of the front, skater shorts, and black Adidas. He seems shy and plays guitar.
Ethan has a bass guitar over his shoulder that is probably taller than he is, and wears a Jethro Tull “Broadsword” concert shirt that is way too big and nearly covers his brown shorts.
I say, “I love your shirt.”
He says, “My grandpa gave it to me.” He’s obviously proud of it. “You’re pretty,” he grins. And not shy.
Nick has shaggy shoulder length blond hair and sits behind the drums wearing a yellow tank top and surfer shorts. “Hey.” I think Nick is the oldest of the kids and he’s too cool for school, but he keeps peeking at me through the scrub of long hair hiding his eyes.
Kellan says to me, “Welcome to perform
ance class.”
“What about me?!” Hayley jumps up and down beside Kellan, pulling on his arm, “You forgot me!”
Kellan smiles at her, “I’m sorry, I’ll never forget you, Hayley. Hayley, this is Victory.”
I lean down and shake her little hand.
She grins apple cheeks at me, “Hi!”
“Hey. Nice to meet you, Hayley!” She’s incredibly cute.
I’m not sure what to do next, but these junior rockers look ready to roll.
“So,” Kellan says, “Hayley, Matthew, Ethan, and Nick have been working on a song. As a band.”
“Really?” I grin. That’s not how music school was taught when I was girl. It was sitting in a tiny room with a music teacher who said nothing and waited for you to mess up so they could frown at you and say nothing helpful. I’m so lucky I had my dad take over my lessons almost from the start.
“Yup,” Kellan nods.
“What song?” I ask.
“Shoot ‘Em Down!” Ethan shouts.
“By Twisted Sister,” Hayley adds proudly. “Dee Snider sings it.”
Kellan says, “Are you guys ready to show Victory how to play it?”
“Yeah!” they all chorus.
Kellan nods at Nick.
Nick counts off, “One, two, three, four!”
The four of them bang out the beginning chords.
I grin big. I know the song well. It’s easy to play, but it totally rocks and brings back a flood of memories. Shoot ‘Em Down is one of the first ones my dad taught me. It also brings back memories of working in Dad’s shop. We always had music going. In fact, I helped him rebuild the engine on a ’63 Impala when I was fourteen while listening almost entirely to Twisted Sister albums. Wow, I really need to call my dad. I haven’t talked to him in months.
The kids do an awesome job with the song. It’s a little rough, but they know it, and they’re pretty tight for young kids. Hayley is easily the star of the show in her fuchsia dress and blond curls. She almost looks like a miniature Dee Snider. She continuously jumps up and down to the beat, singing into the mic with gleeful abandon.
Ethan harmonizes during the chorus and his voice blends nicely with Hayley’s.
This is the most awesome music school ever!
I have to work here!!!!
I glance over at Kellan, and he’s grinning, his teeth shining, nodding his head in time with the music. He silently mouths the lyrics along with Hayley. She glances at him several times and he winks at her or gives her a thumbs up. He obviously loves working with these kids. I can’t blame him.
I’m having so much fun, I start pumping my fist and the next thing I know, I’m singing the chorus along with the kids. The second I realize I’m singing, my chest tightens up and I stop.
“Yeah!” Kellan says, egging me on, “Keep going!”
I don’t.
(never ever sing)
I shake my head no.
(singsingsing)
I cough a few times, and smile thinly.
Kellan smiles sympathetically and shrugs his shoulders, then joins in singing the chorus himself. Even without a mic, his voice is loud and powerful. He sings like he means it, totally into the music.
Matthew starts the guitar solo. Considering his age, he’s pretty damn good.
Kellan cheers him on, “Yeah! Matt! Whoo, boy! Play it!”
Matthew grins from ear to ear and does his best to fire off the rest of the solo.
I’m blown away and having fun again and I totally forget about my singing
(never ever ever sing)
and coughing.
Ethan shifts from foot to foot while playing his bass.
After Hayley sings the final vocal line, she bends over in a full length bow.
Nick hammers every drum in his kit like machine gun fire. Matthew and Ethan strum their guitars wildly. Ethan shakes his hips like maracas. I laugh.
Nick’s drumming slows, then he, Matthew, and Ethan hit their final note. BOOM!
I immediately clap rapidly and shout, “Yay! Woo-hoo! You guys rock!”
Kellan shouts, “YEAH! Awesome! Incredible!”
Oh my god, I need this job!
Chapter 68
VICTORY
Kellan turns to me, “So, Victory, was there anything you can think of for the kids to work on?”
“Oh, gosh,” I smile, looking at the kids, “You guys were all so awesome! I don’t know what to say!” I giggle and grin.
The kids all smile back at me.
“I’m really impressed,” I sigh.
“Me too,” Kellan smiles, “but if you wanted to make things better, what would you do?”
I realize he’s testing me. This is where spectating ends and teaching begins. I need to actually come up with something constructive. They all knew the song well, so what do I say?
“Remember,” Kellan says, “this is performance class. The focus here is on band dynamics and stage presence.”
Oh, that’s easy. I know all about both. And I know exactly how to help. I say, “Who likes to play make believe?”
“I do!” Ethan cheers, “I want to be a Tyrannosaurus Rex!” I think he’s probably the youngest.
“Me too!” Hayley says, “Me too!”
I glance at Matthew.
He shrugs and smiles shyly.
Good enough. The three of them are on board.
But Nick grimaces like the idea is stupid. He says, “Make believe is for kids.”
I give him a long look while I think what to do. Here goes nothing, “Nick, do you know what air guitar is?”
“Uh huh,” he nods.
“Do you know what air drums are?”
“I guess?” he answers.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s when someone pretends to play guitar, or pretends to play drums.”
“Do you know how to play air drums?”
“But I already have a drum set.”
And an answer for everything. I roll my eyes, “Have you ever seen an air guitar competition?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “on YouTube. It’s when guys dance around like crazy and pretend to play guitar like big rockstars.”
“You said the magic word.”
“What?” he frowns.
“Pretend.”
“But I’m really playing,” he protests, “not pretending.”
I need to try a different approach. “Nick, I’m not asking you to pretend to play the drums. I’m asking you to pretend you’re playing in front of a crowd of people. A really big crowd. And you are the really big rockstar.”
I notice Kellan watching my exchange with Nick carefully. I imagine I’m being graded right now. Work with me, Nick. If you don’t get this, I don’t get this job.
Nick says thoughtfully, “You mean like Ozzy?”
I’m not sure what he means, but I blurt, “Yes!”
Nick says, “Like the Blizzard of Ozz tour? My dad showed me the video online. That concert was rad. Tommy Aldridge is awesome on drums.”
“Yes! Pretend you’re on stage with Ozzy! In front of a huge crowd!” I’m just rolling with it as I watch Nick mentally connecting the dots.
Nick frowns, “You want me to pretend I’m Tommy Aldridge? On stage?”
“Yes!” I wait in dread for him to tell me that Tommy Aldridge doesn’t play drums for Twisted Sister.
Nick smiles, “I can do that.”
Phew. I say, “When you guys play the song, go crazy for Ozzy’s audience.”
Nick nods, a light in his eyes, “Yeah!”
I turn to the other kids, “Can you all pretend you’re on stage at a big concert?”
“Can I be a Tyrannosaurus Rex too?” Ethan asks.
“Sure,” I smile, because who doesn’t want to see a giant dinosaur on a rock stage? And I don’t know what else to tell him.
“What do I do?” Hayley asks.
“Um…” I stall for time.
My personal belief is there’s three things
important to stage presence: high energy, which Hayley has, a sense that you and you’re bandmates are best friends who love rocking out on stage together, and the group of you are having more fun than anyone else on the planet.
How am I supposed to convey that to a kid?
I suddenly remember Steph, the woman who was kind enough to give me a shower and a meal the morning after Scott kicked me out of Skin Trade. I remember how confident she was with her kids Tyler and Aubrey. I do my very best to channel Steph’s motherly talents.
What would Steph do?
All I can think to say is, “Hayley, you remember how to play Duck, Duck, Goose?”
“Yeah! I love that game!”
“Remember how you go around to every person in the circle, tagging them?”
“Uh huh!” she beams.
“This is sort of like that. When you sing, I want you to go around to Matthew, Nick and Ethan, and say hi to them a bunch of times during the song. Like they’re your best friends.” Man, I hope this works.
“Okay,” she smiles.
“Ethan?” I ask.
“Yeah?”
“You do your dinosaur thing. Stomp around big, but be careful you don’t hit anybody with your bass guitar.”
“Okay!”
I suddenly picture accidental black eyes, a lawsuit, and me never getting this job.
I grab a spare instrument cable I see lying on a shelf in the corner and make a circle with it on the floor around Ethan.
“Ethan,” I say, “Don’t step outside this circle.”
“But I’m a Tyrannosaurus Rex! I can step over anything!”
“Well, pretend it’s an invisible wall as high as the sky and you can’t!”
“Okay!” he smiles.
I hope he remembers it.
I turn to Matthew. I sense he needs something simple. “Matt, can you walk back and forth?”
He looks at me, lost.
“Hokey Pokey style? Left foot in, left foot out?”
He takes a tentative step forward, then pulls his leg back.
“Again,” I smile encouragingly.
He continues.
“That’s it!” I cheer. I turn to Hayley, “Remember, Hayley, watch out for the guitars. Don’t bump into them because they’re poison!”
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