We spent therest of the morning quietly chatting while the rest of the band snored away intheir bunks. I paid dearly the next day for the lack of sleep in the form of amassive headache, but it was worth it.
* * *
Melody
Train got off thebus lookin’ like a hundred pounds of shit stuffed into a fifty-pound sack. “Sonof a carpenter, what did you get into last night?”
“It’s not whatyou think,” he rasped. “I’m not hungover, just dead tired.”
“Well, you cantake a nap after we get back from the radio station.”
“What?” Trainlooked at me blankly.
“The radiostation. WKAB. I’m doing a live interview with Jinny and Jeff and then you andI are playing a song.”
Train blinked.
I sighed. “You haven’tlooked at your daily itinerary, have you?”
Train reachedinto his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I don’t see anything on here about aradio interview.”
“That’syesterday’s itinerary,” I said, glancing at the screen and swiping my finger tothe right, showing him the correct schedule.
“Shit, I’msorry, Melody. Lemme grab my acoustic guitar out of the bus, and I’ll splashsome water on my face.”
As Trainsprinted back up the bus stairs, the sound of his voice saying my name echoedthrough my head. Like most people, I was relatively indifferent about my name,but there was something about the way Train said it that made it sound special.
He walkedoff the bus ten minutes later, still looking a little worse for the wear, butcleaned up and ready to go, guitar case in hand.
“Ready?” Iasked.
“Yeah. Again,sorry.”
“It’s all good.”
Our car pulledup and the driver set Train’s guitar in the trunk while we climbed into theback seat.
“What song arewe doing?” he asked.
“I was thinking ‘Flowers,’”I said. “What do you think?”
“Have you everdone it acoustically?”
I shook my head.“I’m taking a bit of a risk.”
He grinned. “Ilike it.”
“Will you do theharmony?”
He scrubbed hishand across the back of his neck. “Jesus, really?”
“You do it allthe time on stage.”
“Singing it asback up with the other guys is a hell of a lot different than up front andcenter on a radio show, Melody. Not sure I’m ready for that kind of attention.”
“Give me a C.”
“What?”
