The others were enthusiastic about the song Jim was making and they spent the afternoon working on it. However, it was an awkward while for them, caught in the crossed fire of Jim’s temper and Sean’s mocking indifference. So they felt relieved when Sean’s phone buzzed and he just dropped the sticks to stand up.
“Whadda fuck you doing?” Jim asked. “We’re in the middle of the fucking song!”
Sean circled the drums to grab his stuff. “You gotta pick me up before seven,” he replied, turning off Jim’s amp again. “So move your ass.”
“Oh, right,” said Tom, putting his bass down. “Deb booked you guys for that fancy gala.”
Jim left his guitar, snorting and cursing under his breath before gifting them with another theatrical exit. The others turned to Sean for some kind of explanation.
Sean shrugged. “She’s leaving tomorrow,” he said, and wa
Sean waited outside his building, still thinking about what Jo had told him. She couldn’t be more right, calling what had happened to Fay a lucky misfortune. And they also agreed that Silvia’s plan was wise and down to earth. Knowing Jim, three months would be more than enough for them to move past the fireworks of every reunion and see if they wanted to go any further.He smirked to himself. It was going to be fun.Jim drove down the street to pull over right in front of his brother, and Silvia jumped off of the car to leave the passenger’s seat for him. Sean hardly had a glimpse of her as she dived into the backseat.Jim cursed Deborah over the phone as Sean got in the car by his side. He hung up on her and handed his phone over his shoulder to Silvia, still cursing and grunting. Deborah called again within seconds. Silvia picked up this time.Sean smirked again, hearing her talk in a nice, innocent way. Deborah didn’t call again
The red carpet ended at the building’s fancy gates, and right past them, in the large, luxurious lobby, more reporters lay in wait, from outlets willing and able to pay for a better access to the celebrities in attendance. Silvia hesitated, seeing that whole new swarm of cameras and microphones and lights.“Let Jim handle them,” said Sean, nodding to the other end of the lobby.Jim met her eyes and nodded, swallowing his laughter because she couldn’t quite tell what nightmare was worse: facing more reporters or being left alone with his brother.She couldn’t help another chill when Sean rested a hand on the small of her back to guide her among the people. However, they’d hardly taken a couple of steps when someone behind them called out, “Silvia?”They turned around, surprised, to find another woman.“Cecilia?” said Silvia in disbelief.Sean’s eyebrows jumped up when Silvia hugged the woman, both of them laughing and patting each other’s back.Jim didn’t see it, busy with the reporter
That was just great. The flash flood had reached the Interstate, forcing the incoming buses to turn around, so the service had been cancelled until further notice.She felt a sudden urge to smoke. Considering it was pouring, the bus station staff overlooked those nicotine addicts with a little survival instinct left, and allowed them to smoke at the entrance hall, indoors and safe from the wind and the rain. She gave her luggage a concerned glance: rucksack, duffel bag, guitar. Why the hell had she kept the guitar? Only a few people remained at the bus station, but hard statistics dictated that a single person was enough to snatch all of her things away. She realized that was a third-world thought. Was she not in “The Shiny City Upon The Hill”? Just in case there was another third-worlder around, she asked the man at the nearest ticket booth if he could look after her stuff for a while. “I’m leaving in fifteen minutes, ma’am,” he warned. More than enough. She lit a cigarette as s
That was just great. The rental had broken down in the middle of the storm and of nowhere.He cursed his brother’s idea of renting that ranch to spend their ‘creative break’ away from spotlights and paparazzi. But he cursed louder his own idea of renting a car at Fargo airport, instead of taking a bus and meeting his brother at the bus station near the goddamn ranch.He checked his phone again, in case a stray miracle had given it back any coverage. Damn. It was as dead as it’d been since he’d driven deeper into the countryside and the storm. He looked out the windshield, but it was pouring so hard, he could’ve had frigging Godzilla right in front of the car and he wouldn’t see it.However, he was pretty sure he’d spotted lights up ahead before the damn car broke down, when the wipers still worked. According to his brother’s directions, that should be the bus station ten miles south of the town near the ranch.He had no way to know how far it was, and the wisest thing to do was hunker
She sat down in the gap with her back against the coffee machine, face to the glass doors. That way, she even had room for the guitar on her lap. She could hear the old man humming My Way from the gents’.She wondered what she should play, tuning the strings. Most of the songs she knew were sad love ballads, not exactly the best choice for the occasion. Maybe bringing the guitar wasn’t such a good idea, and she should just burn out what battery her phone had left. That made her think of the music she had in it. She smiled. No Return’s songs were nothing like tender, and she knew enough of them to keep herself entertained for a good while.Lucky her, she had many of the rare acoustic versions, so she wouldn’t need to improvise some lousy adaptation. She’d taken about a year of guitar lessons, but she’d had to drop them long ago, so she wasn’t that good at playing.Her fingers slid over the metallic strings, looking for a chord. There it was, the beginning of Break Free.She didn’t look
Where was he? How long had he slept? His arm was numb under his body and his back ached. He sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand as the other reached for his phone. Ten-thirty, he’d slept about an hour. A chill ran down his sore back. It was cold there and he was already wearing the only sweater he had. And there was no coverage, of course, forget about internet.He remembered the coffee machine at the hall. Getting up wasn’t easy, but the promise of a hot drink pulled stronger than his weariness.He strolled across the waiting room, fishing in his pockets for change.The family was enjoying a late picnic of snacks and the old man mopped the floor near the closed booths. An hour later and he still hummed the same song. Outside, it poured like frigging end of the world.It was even colder in the empty hall. He shivered up to the coffee machine, so old it didn’t take bills, only coins. So he inserted one into the slot and waited for the buttons to light up.They didn’t, and his coin c
The gentle poke kicked her back from her private idaho of bitterness and despair to reality. She looked up to find a young man frowning down at her from under the peak of his baseball cap, looking halfway between concerned and not quite convinced about what he was doing.She tried to move away from him but the wall behind her cut her way, so she nodded, glancing at the end of the hall.The young man studied her as she stood up slowly, her back still to the wall. His eyes were dark in the shadow of his cap and he set his square, firm jaw, stepping back when she tried to come out of the gap.“I’m fine,” she muttered, annoyed at his attention, wiping her nose on the back of her wrist.She wanted to go to the ladies’, but he was in her way. So she kept her head down and just brushed past him.The soft click when she locked the restroom door made her feel safe from new disruptions. She rested against it for a moment, trying deep shaky breaths. Thank God the old man had left the place squea
He dropped himself on the couch, still swearing black and blue. They could go to hell, the coffee machine and the fan. He was so pissed, he didn’t bother to check if his phone had any thread of coverage. As if.He’d downloaded his emails at the airport, so he thought he could kill some time reading them. He brought his legs up to the couch and turned his back to the waiting room and the rest of the frigging universe.The third email made him smile. It was from the head of the LA Squad. As usual, she wanted to know when they would be back home, so she could put up a signing with the local soldiers. She was a funny mental case that followed them since before their first album, and she never abused her privilege of direct communication with him.Even though he wouldn’t be able to send his reply unless he found a way back to civilization, he started typing it. Until something blocked the light. He glanced up to find the fan standing right in front of him, handing out a steamy paper cup to