PHILADELPHIAFREEDOM
3
Lucky
The label hadthings on a tight schedule. Lucky wanted to head home to see her parents before hitting the road, but with practice, there wasn't enough time. After the photo shoot, Black Dog flew the band to SIR Studios in New York where they rehearsed almost non-stop for two days before heading over to Philadelphia for their first show--opening for Patchwork Quilt, a mid-level band ontherise.
In the past month that she had been signed, the label "leaked" a song she recorded as a demo to radio stations. The song did well enough to book a ten-city tour of mostly small clubs or openings for bigger acts. She didn't have a problem knowing most of the audience wasn't there for her. That only meant she needed to winthemover.
The old bus groaned as people boarded. It had the distinct scent of disinfectant and lemon the band couldn't get away from since the windows didn't open. In a sea of grey and teal seats, Lucky sat in the middle of the bus with her acoustic guitar resting in the seatbesideher.
She smoothed out the skirt of her long black and white paisley print sundress, then swept the top part of her light brown hair off her face and clipped it back. Wearing a dress on stage was the only way she felt comfortableperforming.
Lucky hated airplane and bus seats. The metal arms always hugged her hips as she sat, making her feel larger than she really was. Sliding the arm in between the seats up, she grabbed her guitar and began strumming a few of the songs they were performing that night before turning to Jordan across theaisle.
"I hate this, Jord. That feeling of impending doom I always get when I have to perform in front of people. Maybe I should've just stuck tosongwriting."
"Listen to yourself. You always get this way and then what happens? You pull through. I swear you become another person on stage. Relax, you'll be great." Jordan leaned across the aisle. "I probably shouldn't say this, but I'm worried about the rest of your band," shewhispered.
"Please don't say that. Oh geez. I didn't want to say anything, but yeah. Kat seems great, but of the guys, only Dylan has been on tour before. Paul needs to get it together on drums tonight or we'rescrewed."
"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry. I'm sure everything will be fine. The label wouldn't have hired them if they weren't good,right?"
"You're right, I'm probably worried about nothing,"Luckysaid.
She turned around and looked towards the back of the bus where everyone was asleep except for Kat, who was listening to music with her feet up on the seat beside her. She had a feeling of dread and decided to focus on her guitar to move past it. She had to believe everything wouldworkout.
* * *
As the busturned off the highway, Lucky slid over to the tinted window and looked out. Until the past week, she had never left the Boston area. She was disappointed she didn't get to see anything in New York, but that was to be expected. From everything she had heard about touring, each city would blend into the next since all she would see was the interior of the bus and eachvenue.
Lucky watched the city slip past the window. In the distance, she saw tall modern buildings, but the streets around her were old. The bus turned underneath a train overpass and pulled up along an old brick building that dominated the block. Posters were plastered along the side of thebuilding.
Stepping onto the crumbling sidewalk, Lucky noticed a poster with her name in red over a white-on-white image of her with the electric guitar from the photo shoot. Ice shot through her veins as her nerves got the betterofher.
She entered the building with her guitar while the roadies grabbed the rest of the equipment. The building was old but still retained some of its original glamour. Lucky walked onto the stage as the gear was set up and marveled at the ornate gothic accents along the walls and ceiling of the 3500-seatvenue.
Taking a deep breath, she headed backstage where she found Jordan and the rest of the band filling their plates with food. She entered a dressing room with her name on it and put down her guitar as she thought about how surreal it all was. When she entered the main area again, she saw Richard Black in his usual suit and headed overtohim.
"I didn't think you'd be here, Mr. Black,"Luckysaid.
"Call me Richard. I try to attend every first show. I need to know how the tour is going to turn out. I've been in this business long enough that I can tell just from one show." He looked at Lucky and patted her on the back. "Relax. You'll do great. Have something to eat, it'll settle yournerves."
Lucky nodded and headed over to the buffet. The variety of food was tempting, but she didn't think she could eat. As she walked along the table, she added a few things to her plate, barely paying attention to what the food was, then sat down at a long table witheveryoneelse.
"Ready for the show, Lucky?" Dylan asked as he ran his hand through his longbrownhair.
"No, not at all. I'm really nervous. I know the songs like the back of my hand, but every time I have to get on stage, I just…Idon'tknow."
"You doubtyourself."
"Yeah, I guess that's it. Once I'm up there it's great, but everything leading up to that, forget about it." Shelaughed.
"You'll do fine," he said. "I was the same way. I've been on the road for two years now playing bass, a year before that on guitar. Trust me, by the end of this tour you'll forget to be nervous. It becomes partofyou."
"I sure as hell hope so," Paul, the drummer, interjected. "I hope I don't let youguysdown."
Lucky looked down the table to Paul. He was the youngest of them and during rehearsals, he seemed to really take it personally when his mistakes werecalledout.
