**
There were plenty of interesting luxuries for a successful band that had broken big. Money, cars, women, hotel rooms that were like apartments, a big tour bus, and even use of a private jet courtesy of the record company. Mack didn’t like the idea of taking a private jet, he preferred the open road. After talking to Luke on the phone with the rest of band surrounding Mack, they decided to meet up with Luke and sort everything out. Frank had been the one to call and tell the guys they were taking a private jet to Los Angeles.
On the flight, Mack drank like he had nothing to lose. The tour was over. The fans were dedicated and that hurt Mack. It hurt the rest of the band too. He saw it in their eyes. The support of the fans was heart touching, yes, but how long would it last? The fans had no obligation to Fallen Tuesday. All it would take would is one song at the right moment from the right band to turn Fallen Tuesday into a memory.
Frank spent the entire flight on his laptop with a phone to his ear. The pieces of the conversation Mack picked up on were all about the tour cancellation. There were press releases coming, interviews piling up, calls and emails, everyone wanting to know what was really going on. It seemed the majority of the media didn’t buy into the voice problems Luke had. It made sense. The story would have more juice if it were Luke - or someone in the band - with a drug or alcohol addiction.
Mack looked at the bottle in his hand and smiled. He drank to that thought and then took a nap.
When he opened his eyes he was back in Los Angeles. The plane was beginning to make its descent. Somehow during his nap, the rest of the band had moved their seats closer to him. Frank was the only one on the other side of the plane.
Mack looked at Gray, Trent, and Jake. He nodded. They nodded back.
It was decided in silence right then… they needed to support their brother no matter what he had to say.
(13)
The band gathered in the sound stage building where they had practiced for their tour. It was where they wrote the final pieces of the first album. It had every instrument they ever needed, along with a small recording setup for those times when an idea was just too good to not record.
Luke sat with his hands on his knees at the edge of the small stage. The band and Frank sat in metal folding chairs.
Luke looked at the band and the mixed emotions could have made him cry. He had been sending texts to Amy for the past couple days. He tried calling her but she refused to speak to him on the phone. She wanted to talk in person. It seemed Luke needed to be in ten places at once yet he was supposed to be resting.
“I wanted to talk in person,” Luke said. “I’m sick of calling. I’m sick of text messaging.”
“We’re all here,” Mack said.
“You are,” Luke said. “I’m glad. We’re still a band here. We still have a purpose. We still have a future.”
“What’s the diagnosis?” Frank cut in. “I’m sorry to be abrupt, but the record company is killing me over this. They think it’s smoke and mirrors. That something else is wrong. And it’s getting fed into the media and spreading like wildfire.”
“What? That I’m some drugged up lead singer?” Luke asked.
“Well?” Frank asked.
“I saw my doctor out here,” Luke said. “He said I’m lucky and stupid.”
“What does that mean?” Gray asked.
“My throat is going to be fine,” Luke said.
He watched as the band looked at each other. A sense of relief spread through the room. Frank already started to dial on his cellphone.
“Keep talking,” he said.
“There are no polyps and no significant damage,” Luke said. “I don’t need surgery either. I just need rest. I need to relax my voice, my throat.”
Frank began to talk on the phone. He stood and worked his way to the back of the room.
Luke continued to address the band.
“I’m lucky because it’s just that,” Luke said. “I’m stupid because I didn’t listen before and I didn’t tell you guys about this.”
“When did this start?” Jake asked.
“When we were touring with Chasing Cross. I noticed that my throat felt tight and sort of sore. I thought I was getting sick maybe. It got to a point where it scared me a little. We were getting ready to come east and I wanted to just get checked before we left. I went and my doctor ran some tests. He called me the night of Chasing Cross’s last show with bad news… he wanted me to stop singing right then. He wanted me to rest my voice so it didn’t turn into something else. What the hell was I supposed to do? We were getting ready to take over the tour as headliners. Our big chance. Our big break. Everything we’ve ever wanted and worked for. For me, I could deal with the pain. The doctor didn’t seem to push at me too hard…”
“He told you to stop singing,” Mack said. “What did you want him to do?”
“Tell me I would die if I kept singing,” Luke said. “And even then…”
“Shit,” Gray said. “Man, I love you, Luke, I really do. But this is crazy. We’re going to play shows and write music no matter what happens… as long as you’re with us. We could have postponed and hit it next year.”
“I didn’t believe it,” Luke said. “I didn’t want to believe it. So I sang through it all. Then I noticed blood. We were so close to the end of the tour, I figured a few more shows couldn’t hurt me.”
“It could have,” Trent said. “Big time.”
“I know that,” Luke said. “I feel lucky right now, guys, but I feel like a complete asshole. I’ve let you guys down.”
“No, you didn’t,” Mack said. “I’m not let down. I’m worried about you, man. If you’re okay, I’m okay.”
Luke hopped off the stage and the rest of the band did the same. There was a moment of hesitation before they all embraced and hugged. Luke closed his eyes and felt the emotion rush at him. Then he felt the wicked strong grip of Mack on the back of his neck.
“Look at me, Luke,” he ordered.
Luke looked at Fallen Tuesday’s drummer. “This isn’t about money. This isn’t about fans even. I love both of them, trust me, I do. This is about us. The five of us, together.” Mack then looked around the band. “Through the good times, the bullshit, we’re always together.”
“Like brothers,” Gray said.
“No,” Luke said. “Not like brothers… we are brothers.”
Everyone hugged again and then broke apart as Frank came back.
“Okay, everything is good now,” Frank said. “I talked to the record company. We’re getting a month of rest for Luke. They want you guys to keep talking and playing music though. Write new songs and send the demos to me to send to them. They want to see action on this. The response on the site has been overwhelming with fans supporting Luke and the rest of you guys.” Frank set his eyes on Luke. “Luke, I need you to do some interviews. We can set everything up by phone, but we have to get the word out that you’re okay. You’re not on drugs, you’re not in rehab or something like that. We need to keep the Fallen Tuesday name thriving right now.”
There was plenty Luke could argue about what Frank just said but he decided against it. He nodded and shook hands with Frank. He then turned to the band and smiled.
“Let’s play.”
“Play?” Mack asked.
“You four get on the stage and play. I’ll start writing lyrics. We record the song and play it back low enough that I can speak the lyrics over the music so we can see how it sounds.”
Mack slowly smiled. “Goddamn, Luke, you really are a rockstar.”
The band set up and in a matter of minutes the soul of rock n’ roll was back alive. Luke stood off the stage and watched the music come to life before his eyes. He touched his throat and swallowed. It was sore, very sore. Time would decide his fate, something he couldn’t control.
Luke got a notebook and pen out and began to write lyrics. He listened to the music as he wrote, letting the words flow freely. He had no rhythm to the musi
c just yet. The song broke up a minute into it and the band began to structure the riffs, chords, fills, and sound. Luke joined the stage and began to read some of what he wrote. Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle started to come together. The band played only for an hour, a quick practice, but it was enough to kill the remaining tension in the room.
When it was done, the five members of Fallen Tuesday stood around. Luke took the lead, as he always did.
“I need to take some time,” he said. “I’m not going to be in Los Angeles.”
“Figured that was coming,” Mack said. “Visiting Amy in New York?”
“I am,” Luke said. “She’s got something going on up there and I need to be there.”
“More problems?” Gray asked.
“Do they ever end?”
Gray shook his head. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of my younger brother all morning. I talked to his roommate yesterday and he said he’d been drinking a little bit the past week.”
“What’s wrong with drinking?” Mack asked.
“Acts as a gateway,” Luke said.
“Yeah,” Gray said. “The last thing he needs is to get mixed up in that shit again. I’m going to check up on him. See my family too.”
“So, we’re good then?” Luke said. “Split up for a couple weeks maybe?”
“Yeah,” Mack said. “I can use a good ride. I’ll go straight upstate and not stop until I’m hungry or tired.”
Luke hated the idea of the band not being together. They had spent the past year side by side for everything. From the shows to the studio to the tour. They knew what each other ate, when they used the bathroom, every little detail of each other’s personal routines. Now they were going take a much needed break.
“I’m going to miss you guys,” Luke said. “I really am.”
“Us too,” Jake said. “I’m sure we won’t be far apart. A quick flight and we’re together. Not to mention we’re supposed to be recording in New York.”
Luke smiled. “That’s right. Frank will want us in the studio soon.”
“Soon it is then,” Mack said.
The band hugged, shook hands, and just like that, everyone was set free for a break. A break that could potentially save Luke’s voice and the band.
Luke was the last to leave, purposely hanging back to meet with Frank. He stepped next to Frank outside the sound studio and put his head back, enjoying the warm California sun. It wouldn’t be warm at all when he got back to New York to see Amy.
“Everyone happy?” Frank asked.
“We’d be happier on stage,” Luke said. “But since that can’t happen… yeah, everyone is happy. We needed a break.”
“I get that,” Frank said. “You wanted a break to get on tour though, remember that?”
“I do,” Luke said. “You’re a good man, Frank. You work hard for the band and what we all want. We’re going to be in New York soon enough writing and recording new music.”
“I hope so,” Frank said. “I’ll email you dates and times of the radio interviews.” Frank looked at Luke. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“You hope I don’t mind?” Luke asked and smiled. “You have a heart in that chest?”
“It shows once in a great while. Take care of your voice, Luke. You stupid fool.”
“Appreciate that, Frank,” Luke said.
Frank walked to a waiting car and left. Luke remained in silence, basking in the nothingness around him. A day ago the feeling of nothing hurt. Now it was a mild comfort. The greatest comfort waited in New York, right where he and his heart belonged.
Luke hated to do it but he cashed in on a favor from Frank and used a private jet to fly this time. He wanted the privacy so he could write. There had been a time in his life when his notebooks were filled with words that were strung together along the lines of stories instead of lyrics. He would then take the most poignant parts of those stories and turn them into songs. It felt good to write so freely. There was nothing else he could do. His voice needed to rest to heal. The silence of the plane came in handy because the entire flight, Luke didn’t have to speak more than ten words.
When he landed in New York, Luke had a car waiting and then he decided to call Amy. He held the steering wheel and waited for her to answer.
She finally did on the last ring before her voicemail would have picked up.
“Luke?”
“Amy. Hey.”
“Where are you?”
“Coming to see you.”
“What?”
“I told you I wanted to see you,” Luke said.
“Yeah, but I thought you were with your band.”
“It’s not my band,” Luke corrected. “And I met with them. We talked and we’re taking a break before going to the studio. The studio is in New York, Amy.”
There was silence on the line. Then a breath.
“I’m shocked right now,” Amy said. “I thought you would stay in California. I wasn’t sure when we’d actually meet up again.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t say this over the phone but I’m starting to care about you,” Luke said. “A lot. I can’t stop thinking about you. Wondering how you’re doing. I want to hold you, Amy. I want to finish everything we keep starting.”
“I… I want that too,” Amy said.
“Good,” Luke said. “I’m in a car. I’m coming to see you, Amy.”
“Right now?” Amy asked, her voice almost squealing.
“Right now, baby,” Luke said.
Luke hung up the phone and touched his chest. His heart felt so full. He wasn’t sure what the feelings were yet for Amy, but one thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to ignore his feelings and he wasn’t going to let Amy live in fear for the rest of her life.
A Voice to Love (Fallen Tuesday Book One) (A Brothers of Rock Novel) Page 17
