“What makes you think you’re qualified to write songs for us? You don’t look like you know the first thing about pain, suffering, or love.”
Ouch. That hurt. He might as well have smacked me in the face. At least he knocked the nervousness right out of me, and even turned on my pissed off anger bunny. The first time my best friend, Michelle, saw me get totally pissed off she said I looked like anangry bunny. From that day on whenever I got pissed off I became ‘anger bunny’.
I guess pissed is better than nervous. I could work with pissed. “You don’t know anything about me and you should definitely know not to judge someone by how they look. I know your background, about all of you." Their looks were priceless. One point for my side. It didn’t last long though, their shocked looks quickly reverted to ones of non-interest as their masks fell into place again. They didn’t say a word, not one of them. Fine. I didn’t need this crap, promise or not.
"You know what, fuck you, it doesn’t matter if you think I can write your songs, Symmetry does and that’s what matters.” I got up so fast the chair scraped across the floor and fell over. I didn’t need to be treated like this by anyone. I’d had enough already. Who the hell did he think he was? I grabbed my iPad and headed for the door.
Rod reached out and held on to my arm, stopping me from leaving. I was about to make a snide remark when I saw he wasn’t even looking at me, instead he was having a stare down with Chaos. “Don’t be such anass, Chaos. You do remember the contract you signed, right? You agreed to allow Symmetry final approval for all songs.”
“Yeah, but only if my songs weren’t good enough and they’re fuckin’ fine. What do they know about what our fans want?”
Rod’s hand was still on my shoulder and I wanted to shake it off, I was only a few feet from the doorway. I wanted out of the room and away from these assholes so badly I could almost taste freedom. Too bad Rod ‘the dickman’ Dixon, was my ride. I had no choice but to watch this play out, unless I wanted to stand outside and wait by the limo in the scorching heat. Of the two options this was definitely the better one.
“They’re a huge record company, how do you think they got that way?” Rod asked calmly like he was trying to explain something to a small kid, but I could hear the anger.
Chaos looked frustrated, shoved his chair back and turned toward me. That’s when I noticed the towel wrapped around his hand. I wondered what happened and if it would stop him from playing guitar. Then I stopped myself, what did I care? I definitely needed to not careeven if my inner sex fiend was dying to drag him into bed and have her way with him.
I heard him grumble under his breath as he sat back down at the table. “Hey, I’m sorry. You’re right it’s not your fault, just because I don’t like the idea of someone else writing our songs.”
I nodded, finally I wasn’t the only one in the room who was actually thinking. I’d done my research, I knew he wasn’t stupid. He’d had a tough time until he met up with the others in the foster home. In interviews he always talked about how great the Shermans were, but his early years with his parents left some scars, and from what I could tell it’s what he used as inspiration for his music.
“No problem,” I answered, as I shook Rod’s hand off my shoulder and sat at the table. I knew this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought but hopefully the worst was over. “Mr. Warner gave me your songs and I made some notes. I thought we could go over them today before you leave on tour.”
Chaos didn’t say anything just looked at me like he was trying to see into my head. The others in the room started talking again.It was a relief not to be the center of attention, but the noise was like an annoying buzz in my head. Rod wandered off somewhere out of my line of sight, obviously thinking Chaos was going to give in on this. But I wasn’t so sure, he had a stubborn look on his face, and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what he was thinking.
It was probably only a few seconds that we sat looking at each other. It could have been hours though. My throat died up and I needed a drink of water before I started coughing again. The anger melted, and my nerves kicked back into high gear. Shit. Why I was I letting him get to me like this? Because he’s a rock star and for the last two years I’d been drooling over his picture, that’s why. Yup he’d been my secret crush since I’d come across their music.
It had been incredible, and as much as I hated the whole idea of rock bands, their music touched something inside me and never let go. No not that. What were you thinking? Okay maybe there was a little of that, but not until later, not until I’d learned all about them and started to fall for Chaos. I figured it would like falling for a moviestar—crush on them hard but never, ever, figure you’ll meet them.
Sighing, I opened my iPad. “Listen I don’t want to make this difficult it’s my job and I need it. I’d rather work with you on the songs than write them myself. So what do you say?”
I could almost see the wheels turning in his head before he opened his mouth. “Great idea.” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Rod, I’ll work with Cynda on one condition.” His gaze never left mine. “She has to come on tour with us. She needs to learn what we’re about, or no deal.”
What the hell did he just say? Go on tour, oh no way, in fact not just no, but hell no. I couldn’t imagine a worse nightmare than being cooped up with a rock band on the road. I didn’t want that life. I’d seen what it did to people. But there was my inner sex fiend, whispering in my ear,“C’mon maybe we’ll get lucky. You know you want to.”
“You’re crazy, you know that. I’m not going on tour with you like some kind of groupie.” Anger bunny made her second appearance of the day. Pissed off yes, at himbut also at myself. My inner sex fiend needed to get a grip and fast. Since when had my hormones decided to take control? Oh yeah, Michelle was going to love hearing this shit.
“Are you afraid?” Chaos leaned across the table and teased me with a sexy grin. The smell of liquor on his breath caught me off guard and hit me with a cloud of stink. He reeked of alcohol at eleven in the morning? Was he an alcoholic? This job was turning in to my worst nightmare—on a bus with a rock band? Nope, no way. I wasn’t going to do it.
Damn promise. I need this job. Drunk rockers, groupies, and all. I couldn’t believe he’d suggested it. I’d probably have to do it or I’d be going back on my word. “No I’m not afraid, but it’s stupid. There’s no good reason for me to go on tour to write the songs. We can do it over Skype or email while I stay right here, ever hear of the internet?”
“Well then, no deal. We’ll hire a lawyer and get out of the contract…”
I didn’t realize the dickman could move so fast, but before I’d finished saying no, Rod stood next to me at the table. “Are you out ofyour mind? That’d end everything for you. No tour, and no new record. Do you think another record company will sign you if you pull shit like this?”
“I don’t—we don’t—give a fuck actually. We made it once we can do it again, right?”
A murmur of agreement made its way around the room.
Damn. He was going to use me as an excuse for throwing away their future? Talk about laying on the guilt. They’d worked hard, put out an amazing album, and now he was having a hissy fit because he wasn’t getting his way? I knew he wasn’t happy but this wasn’t how mature adults acted, I don’t care if he was a drunk musician.
I ached to say no, and let them throw it all away, but guilt set in. If I didn’t go and waited for another writing job was I bending my promise? I could almost hear her in my head, and I knew exactly what she’d say. “Fine…I’ll go, but not the whole tour. Two weeks. Take it or leave it.”
Chaos looked triumphant, although I had no idea why. I wondered what horriblethings he’d thought of to torture me with on this trip. “No problem.”
Rod looked surprised I’d given in, but he just shrugged. “Not a problem, I can arrange everything.” He smirked when he met my eyes. “You’re going to have to sleep on the pull out couch or one of the chairs. There aren’t any spare beds on the bus.”
Oh yeah, dickman was enjoying this. I’m sure he thinks I’m just a groupie after all. I’ve slept in worse places, I’d deal with it. It’d only be two weeks anyway.
