A Voice to Love (Fallen Tuesday Book One) (A Brothers of Rock Novel) (4 page)

"You had a major
rise in fame," John said. "Sharing the stage with Chasing Cross and
then taking over. How does it feel to tour?"

Luke nodded to Gray.

"It feels
amazing," Gray said. "To get out there and get up on stage and see
all those fans. Every night we play for thousands of new people waiting to hear
our songs and join in on the fun. Our goal at each show isn’t just to play,
it’s to bring everyone together."

"It's like a jam
session," Luke added. "With twenty thousand people."

“A jam session with
twenty thousand people,” John said. “I love it. Okay, guys, everyone wants to
know about the upcoming album. I think I can speak for everyone when I say we
want some new music.”

Luke laughed. Frank was
lucky that they weren’t all  together. If they were, Frank would have been well
deserving of a punch in the face.

“I can’t say much to
that,” Luke said. “We’re writing. We’re touring. We’re enjoying everything
around us.”

“We were even writing a
song on the bus before the crash,” Mack said.

Luke looked at Mack and
mouthed,
the crash?

Mack shrugged his
shoulders and smiled.

“Sounds like you have
some material right there,” John said. “Is that where you get your songs from?
The road? Life?”

“Our first album was
songs we’ve had for years,” Luke said. “This one is a different animal though.
The fans are going to love it.”

“I wish we could have had
a sample,” John said.

A sample?

That implied that if they
were in the studio, John would have pressured them into playing new material. There
was no new material.

“I wish we could have
been there,” Gray said. “Next time.”

“Next time,” Luke
repeated.

John asked a few more
questions about the road, life, and women. The band answered all questions and
the interview wrapped up with John letting the band hear the cheering fans
again. The call ended and Luke stared at his phone for a second, taking it all
in.

“That was good,” Trent
said. “I can’t believe all those people showed up.”

“I know,” Luke said. “I
feel guilty.”

“Why do you feel guilty?”
Gray asked.

Luke looked up and opened
his mouth. On the surface, there was no reason to feel guilty. Luke hadn’t made
the tire on the bus blow out. Luke hadn’t caused the delay that caused the
cancellation of the radio show. But Luke did have plenty to be guilty about.
Fielding questions about new material and thinking about tomorrow and the days
the would hopefully follow left him even more nervous.

“Nothing,” Luke said.
“Just hate the idea of fans waiting for us and we’re not there.”

“I agree,” Mack said.
“But we’re right here. In a hotel room. We’ve got booze and we’ve got each
other. Let’s grab some guitars and get some work done.”

The band agreed and they
all split up. Luke figured he was in the clear because he didn’t have his
notebook with him. He could jot down some ideas on paper and talk along as the
band played. That would be the extent of his participation.

Luke watched the guys set
up their guitars. Mack opened a hard shell guitar case and pulled out a
beautiful black acoustic guitar. He had it custom made a few months ago, after
getting his custom drum kit, of course. Mack had been playing guitar for about
a year and enjoyed just strumming chords rather than learning how to play any
lead parts like Gray and Jake.

“Hey, Luke, I have
something for you,” Mack said.

Luke pushed from the
counter and walked in to the main room of the hotel to join the band. Mack
lifted a notebook from the guitar case and smiled.

“What’s that?”

“Your notebook. Figured
you’d need it, right?”

Luke half smiled. He took
the notebook and opened it to a random page. He hadn’t expected to see his
notebook until he was back on the tour bus.

“Thanks,” Luke said.

“Now we can keep working
on that song,” Mack said. “Everyone remember it?”

Gray started playing the
song. Jake joined in, along with Trent, giving the song its full sound. Mack
watched the way they played the chords and slowly tried joining in. Luke paged
through the notebook trying to find the page he had been singing from. He
considered just going back and forth and making up an excuse, but the song was
really good and the lyrics in the notebook were really good too. Luke found the
page and he started listening to words in his head as the song continued.

He licked his lips and
swallowed. He waited for the right time to enter the song and began to sing.
The first few words sounded like hell, which they always did. The next few were
better and by the end of what would be the first verse, Luke was into the song.
His foot tapping on the floor, he found the rhythm of the song. The louder he
sang, the better it sounded. He could feel his throat growing annoyed, his
vocal chords stretching, wanting to protest, but the song was really good. Luke
stayed with it until the song switched into what would be the chorus. There he
stopped and nodded along, trying to find the words to the chorus. That was
sometimes the hardest part. Luke had plenty in his notebook and had plenty in
his mind to sing about, but it was all about finding the right words that would
connect with the fans and stick in their minds.

Luke waved until the song
came to an end.

“What’s wrong?” Mack
asked.

“I need a chorus,” Luke
said. “That sounds really good. I like the verse and everything. I have enough
here for two more. I just need… a chorus.”

“Then find one,” Gray
said.

“Keep playing it then,”
Luke said. “Let me see what happens.”

Gray nodded and counted
off a four count. They went back into the song, to the chorus, and played it
over and over and over. Luke walked his way to the kitchen and stared into his
notebook. A few minutes later, like pieces of a puzzle coming together, Luke
managed to do it.

He stopped everyone
again.

“I think I got it,” Luke
said. “Let’s do a run through, okay? Intro, verse, chorus, break, verse,
chorus, break, bridge, solo, verse, chorus, outro.”

“Is that all?” Mack asked
and laughed.

“We need eleven more of
these after this,” Luke said and smiled.

It was a real smile, but definitely
a nervous one.

The song started again,
Gray taking the lead with the same intro he played back on the bus. Right on
cue as if they had been playing the song for twenty years, Jake knew just when
to come in. Trent came next with his acoustic bass, the thick strings giving
the deep tone and heart of the song. Mack added a few strums of his guitar as
Luke prepared to start singing again.

With one more breath, he
jumped right into the song.

It was smooth but had
plenty of flaws. The lyrics were solid, but Luke needed to make some minor
changes, which he could do in a studio. Some of the guitar parts needed
tightening and there was a need for fills and riffs, but Gray and Jake could
handle them after they record the song and play it back.

During the guitar solo,
Luke touched his neck and stretched. Gray improvised a solo that wasn’t bad at
all. Luke saw the look on Gray’s face though, it wasn’t good enough.

The song went into the
last verse and the last set of choruses before ending with an outro. When it
was done, Mack jumped up and held his guitar in the air.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

“I like it,” Luke said.
“I really like it.”

“The only thing…,” Gray
said. He put his guitar down.

“What’s wrong?” Mack
asked.

“I don’t want this to be
some sappy acoustic album though,” Gray said. “We’re built on sound, man. Loud
guitars. Pounding drums. Lyrics that are catchy but have a deep meaning to the
fans.”

“We’ll get there,” Luke
said. “Anything we write now we can always work on in the studio. We can jam at
the next venue if you guys want. What the hell, right?”

“I don’t want to lose our
sound,” Gray said.

Luke closed his notebook
and tossed it toward the kitchen counter. He stepped up on the coffee table and
looked around at the band.

“We will never lose our
sound,” Luke said. “I don’t care about contracts. About money. About touring
even. I care about our music. Our fans love us and our music. Keep it that
way.”

The band agreed and
celebrated with a stiff drink. Luke jumped from the table to the floor. Mack
lifted his guitar and started strumming some chords. Luke smiled as he
recognized it as one of their hit songs.

“Come on,” Mack said.
“Let’s have a little show for ourselves.”

That’s all the convincing
Jake and Trent needed. They had a guitar and bass lifted, ready to go. Gray
took another drink from the whiskey bottle and sat on the arm of the couch, his
fingers already moving up the neck of the guitar, playing the lead riff to the
song Mack still strummed. It was so good. Luke loved the sound and when it came
time to sing, he thought about his voice. The bus tire blow out was supposed to
be a benefit. Luke had planned on relaxing, calling his doctor, and looking for
some remedies online. He had planned on doing nothing to strain his voice.

Then came the chorus to
the song. The fire and passion within Luke was too strong. He couldn't help
himself. He was born to be a rockstar. He was born to write music and share his
emotions through songs.

Luke closed his eyes and
sang.

**

There were three tables
left in the restaurant and three women sitting at the bar enjoying tall glasses
of wine. Uncle Tom walked the restaurant, casually cleaning up and organizing
things how he wanted them. No matter who cleaned up and set the tables, there
was always something that needed to be moved an inch. Uncle Tom never yelled
about it and everyone in the restaurant learned to not take offense to it. It
was very much understood that Uncle Tom needed to have his hands on everything,
everyday.

Amy surveyed the kitchen
and inspected the food being covered and put away. She went into the office and
took the order sheet off the desk and scanned it again. She had no reason to
scan the order. Everything the restaurant needed was ordered. And if by some
chance something had been forgotten then they could order again. Uncle Tom had
such a good relationship with food and beverage vendors that they would do
anything for him.

The truth was that Amy
knew that her shift was almost over. Some people count down with the clock to
get the hell out of work. That was the part Amy hated most about her job. Each
second that ticked down meant a second closer to leaving the restaurant and
facing the real world that waited. One that included people like Denny. There
was no way she could tell Uncle Tom anything about Denny. He was too old to
handle a situation like Amy had herself in, not to mention what it implied for
the restaurant. The restaurant was everything to Uncle Tom. Amy couldn’t mess
with that.

Leaving the office, Amy
took her chef jacket off and hung it up on a hook. She squeezed it and took a
deep breath. It was a dumb ritual, but she liked to pause for a second at the
end of the night and think about all she had done that day. Being caught in the
moment of the restaurant and its thriving life, sometimes it made Amy wonder if
she was accomplishing anything. She was. She was accomplishing plenty. She
walked to the front of the restaurant and behind the bar. She got herself a
glass of ice cold soda and a straw. As she sipped, Amy scanned the empty tables.
So many people had sat at all those tables, ordering food, enjoying a meal,
having a conversation. That was the importance of Amy’s life. She gave people
moments through her meals.

The ladies at the bar
talked and laughed. They finished their wine and the middle one slid off her
stool and stood. Her hands went right to the bar as her face looked shock.

“Oh dear,” she said.
“That’s good wine.”

“Do you have a ride
home?” Amy asked.

“I was going to drive,”
the woman on the left said.

Her voice was slurred and
her eyes looked like tops spinning. There was no way any of the women could
drive home.

“Let me help,” Amy said.

Under the bar there was a
piece of paper taped down with phone numbers. Uncle Tom’s cell phone was first
in line. It served no purpose having his number there because Uncle Tom spent
every second in the restaurant and the cell phone he actually had was kept in
the office. The rest of the numbers were more emergency numbers, including a
cab service that Uncle Tom knew the owner. Amy placed a quick call and got the
women a cab.

“It’ll be here in a few
minutes,” Amy told them. “Why don’t you sit and relax? Want another small glass
of wine? On me?”

The three women all
looked at each other. Their cheeks were flush, as though they were embarrassed
by being a little too drunk. It didn’t matter though. They weren’t causing
trouble. They were having fun and enjoying a night out.

“Since we’re getting a
cab…,” the middle said as she sat back down.

Amy smiled and poured a
small glass of wine for each one. She waited for the cab and then helped the
women outside. All three tried to give Amy gratuity but she respectfully
refused. She told them she worked in the kitchen and she wasn’t allowed to take
gratuity. The women giggled as the cab started to drive away. Amy looked around
at the dark street. Everything had closed down or was closing down. The walk to
her apartment wasn’t that long. If she stayed on the main street, in the
lights, it was enjoyable. She usually drove, but sometimes the walk actually
helped Tonight, with her car getting repaired -
thanks to Denny
, Amy
thought - she had to walk anyway.

Back in the restaurant
she found Uncle Tom behind the bar, a smile on his face.