The memory of Carver saying ‘this is your pussy’ blasted through Scott’s mind like a train whistle. He leaned back in his seat and blew out a sigh. “Wes is doing me a different favor, he’s lining up drummer auditions for us.”
“What, Joe left Silk Tourniquet?”
“Joe got kicked out.”
Johnny glanced over at him, his mouth an O. “No shit?”
“Wasn’t my decision. I got outvoted three to one.”
“Yoo… what happened?”
“It was bullshit. He’s drumming in like four bands right now, but he’s never let us down in any real way, but Graham got this idea that he’s not committed and started campaigning against him. And I know it’s bullshit, he just wants to bring his cousin Mason in.”
Johnny shook his head, then adjusted his beanie, which had slipped. “Mason’s not on Joe’s level. I don’t know him that well, but I know that.”
“Yeah, I thought everyone knew that,” Scott said. “But it’s always something, right? At least I have veto power on anyone coming in, ‘cause they know if I walk, that’s it. So Mason’s gonna audition along with everyone else, and I don’t like his odds.”
“Honestly, if I were you I wouldn’t put anything to a vote. Because exactly, they know you’re the draw, you’re the frontman.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to create resentment.”
Johnny stuck his hand out the window to ash his cigarette. “Sometimes there’s no choice. Someone has to be in charge, right? I get you, though. I always hate this shit, like, having to rely on people not to fuck you up. You remember what happened to Net Zero?”
They entered a stretch of road fully enclosed by a tunnel of trees, which were a bright, light green after the rain of a fewnights ago. Scott leaned forward to take in the view. “Lead singer was a piece of shit?”
“Yeah, he was on meth and hitting his girlfriend, and we couldn’t even agree on kicking him out,” Johnny said, blowing out smoke. “We had two for, two against, and I just dipped.”
“I had something similar like ten years ago,” Scott said. “Our lead guitarist was fucking around with fifteen year olds, and everyone else wanted to play dumb, so I left.” It took him longer than he was proud of to leave, because he was dirt broke and sleeping on the drummer’s couch, so he always omitted that part.
“That shit is always crazy to me,” Johnny said. “Like, how can you know something and pretend you don’t?” He shook his head. “Anyway, I hope you guys get Joe back.”
“Yeah, me too. I might go to Wes and Aimee separately and see if I can get rid of Graham, honestly.”
“Oh, I like that. I like that idea.” Johnny tossed his cigarette butt out the window, then winced. “Sorry. I know you like the environment.”
Scott laughed. “I mean, we live here.”
“Where, Westchester?”
“No, like, in the world.”
“Oh, right. Yeah. My bad.”
The country club’s parking lot was almost deserted, but the clubhouse was hectic when they got inside. A team of decorators was rushing back and forth with vases and armfuls of cloth, while people in dark green BCC polos danced around them and chirped at each other over walkie-talkie. Scott and Johnny walked slowly so no one would run into them.
As they entered the sunny reception hall, they saw it was being prepped for the ceremony, with dozens of chairs arrangedto face a hexagonal arch that decorators were draping with gauzy fabric and fresh flowers. The low platform where Scott and Johnny would play had been tucked into the back right corner and was itself being decorated with fabric and flowers. There were white calla lilies affixed to the side of one of Scott’s amps.
A stocky, smiling redhead approached them. Scott recognized her as the wedding coordinator Ashley, and introduced her to Johnny, who set down his bass and keyboard so he could shake her hand.
“Here are your copies of the final run of show,” she said, handing each of them a half-sheet of paper. “I know you wanted to rehearse your full set together at least once, but the sound system is down right now, unfortunately. They do have someone working on it.”
Scott had anticipated, if not this, some issue very much like this. “How long are we looking at?”
Ashley shrugged and grimaced. “The guy’s doing his best, but he didn’t install it, he’s just one of the electricians who works for the club.”
Johnny whistled and said, “Alright, wait, let me go talk to him.” He set his bass down. “I’m an A/V guy.”
Ashley pointed to her left. “When you go down to the end of the hall, it’s the second door on your left, up the stairs, then the first door on your right.”
