Lasting Lyric
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and resemblance to persons; living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Lasting Lyric
All rights reserved.
Published by:
Tiffany J West
Copyright © 2016 by:
Tiffany J West
Cover art by:
Cover to Cover Designs
Photographed by:
Kruse Images & Photography: Models & Boudoir
Edited by:
Liz Jones
Cover model:
Benjamin McKee
eBook and Paperback format:
Champagne Formats
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author
Table of Contents
Other series written by T.J.West
To those aspiring writers, new indie authors just starting out:
Go big. Dream big and make it happen. Anything is possible.
“Dream
Send me a sign
Turn back the clock
Give me some time
I need to break out
And make a new name
Let’s open our eyes
To the brand new day
It’s a brand new day”
Ryan Star (Lyric’s from
Brand New Day
)
TONIGHT WE WERE IN NEW
York, a four day stay on our summer tour with a streamline of other amazing bands. We finally had taken a break from our cramped bus and elected to stay in a hotel. Sleeping in a real bed with real sheets and room service. I was finally going to get some real sleep too. But after our performance tonight my adrenaline was still on a high and I just couldn’t settle down. I took a cold shower, watched TV and ordered a late night meal.
After a few hours I was still restless, so I made myself comfortable outside on the deck, kicked my feet up on the railing and start to scroll through my phone. First place I check is Twitter. I don’t know what it is about social media, but I get a buzz reading everyone’s posts and tweets. People are funny as hell; the comments they make on our bands page gives me some good entertainment. They’re always calling Lucky their Daddy. I mean what the fuck is that? I laugh at their insanity and how fucked up they can be.
Once I go through our fans comments, I update our status, then go through my lists to check out what everyone else is up to. I am the social media point person for the band. I love keeping the fans connected to everything we do. I come upon a tweet from Lyric. She tweeted only two minutes ago, complaining about how people - society - should mellow out from social media, take a break from it to build stronger relationships. This is definitely something I need to bug her about.
Lyric is the band’s manager. The first time she came on tour with us, I had to admit we weren’t very nice to her. Danny was acting as our manager at the time, but it was impossible for him to keep it up as our popularity exploded. So June,
Bitch Tours2090
music label owner, insisted on us having someone else manage our band. It took awhile for us to warm up to Lyric. She was a bit uptight, and needed to loosen up. She surprised me one day wanting to play a video game with me, and she rocked that game. We instantly made a connection and became very competitive with one another. I was determined to not let her win again. She whoops my ass at everything though; from video games to a card game of poker. She has cleaned out my pockets too many times to count. On top of all this gaming shit, I totally dig her. We just click, she’s become one of my best friends. She’s like one of the guys, I love talking with her, and we never run out of things to talk about. She’s like the sister I’ve never had.
I am ready to give Lyric a hard time. She’s either on her computer or on one of her phones. Yes, she has two fucking phones. One for work and one for her family. I’ll call her work phone. She always answers that one.
She picks up on the second ring. “What are you still doing up?” Lyric says, jokingly.
“What are
you
still doing up?”
“I am working. What about you?”
“Working on what?”
“Bills, my calendar, manager stuff,” she sighs. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“What question was that?”
She groans, “What are you -”
“I’m pulling your leg. I heard you,” I chuckle. I love setting off her temper. Her snappiness is adorable.
“Ha ha, mister comedian.”
“What? I’m fucking hilarious.”
“Maybe, but your language needs work.”
“You fucking love my fucking language.” She really hates when I curse. I make fun of her all the time about it. She’s involved with a bunch of guys who curse their balls off. She needs to get used to it.
“Back to my original question. What are you doing up at two in the morning? You should be sleeping.”
“Yeah. Couldn’t settle down after the show.”
“So how did you know
I’d
still be awake?”
“I didn’t. I took my chances.”
“Really? I bet you saw my last tweet. Don’t lie, you know you did.”
“Busted.”
“That’s what I thought.” I can tell she’s smiling, I can hear it in her voice. She is amused by our conversation, and loves the banter.
I walk back inside the room and turn on the air conditioning. The humidity was beginning to make me sweat. “You really believe taking a break from social media would help people develop stronger relationships?” I plop myself onto the bed and rest my back against the pile of pillows.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have tweeted it if I hadn’t thought that. If everyone took the time away from their phones more often, you would see a lot more interaction between couples, friends, family. Social media has interrupted so many lives.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“How so?”
“We’re talking, aren’t we?”
“So?” she scoffs. “It’s in the middle of the night. I’m talking about during the day, work, play, every day stuff.”
“Are you implying I’m a social media freak?” She knows I am, but so is she. She just won’t admit it.
“Those are your words not mine. And I wasn’t implying anything, but now that you bring it up - yeah, you’re a bit obsessed with Twitter and Facebook.”
“I’m only on there for the band.”
“Bull,” she clips. “What were you doing before you guys went big, huh? Before social media was even around?”
I have to think about this for a second. “Can’t remember.”
“Exactly,” she points out. “It’s taken over everyone’s lives. How sad is that?”
“It’s way the world spins these days,” I shrug. “I think social media is a fucking hoot. I love interacting with the fans, making posts about our concerts and lives. Makes it more personal for them.”
“Well, that does make sense for certain aspects. But don’t tell me you play Candy Crush? Such an absurd game.” I bet she just rolled her eyes. She does that a lot - it’s cute.
I have to admit, she got me on that one too. I love Candy Crush. “I play when I’m bored.”
“Oh, good grief!” she groans out.
I laugh on the other end. Lyric is overly dramatic sometimes, I have to laugh about it. “What’s wrong Charlie, did I say something wrong?”
“Shut up.”
“You like playing video games, so what’s the difference?”
“The difference is, it’s just another way to keep you from socializing with others. Playing video games on the TV is different, I get to sit there with an opponent and kick some major butt. You can’t do that with Candy Crush.”
She is not convincing me very well. “Sure you can. You can try outscoring me.” There is a pause on the other end. I’ve got her thinking about beating me on another game and that grabs her attention, yet again.
“Huh, never thought of it that way,” she mumbles.
“I got something circulating inside your head.”
“Ugh,” she groans again, “You are such a bad influence!”
I hear a ping on my phone. I look at my notifications and see Lyric has joined Candy Crush. I want to laugh so hard right now. “You’ve downloaded it, haven’t you?” trying hard not to laugh.
“Heck no!”
“You’re such a bad liar,” I chuckle.
“I am not lying!” I can hear the playfulness in her voice.
“So I just got a notification from Facebook saying you’ve started playing, because?”
I can sense the smoke coming out of her ears when she snaps at me, “Good grief, get some sleep, will you, I’ve got work to do.”
I’ll just let her sit in her puddle of regret and call it a night. “G’night, Charlie.”
“Stop calling me that.” She is so irritated with me, I can’t help but love it.
“I can’t help it. Every time you say good grief, it makes me think of Charlie Brown.”
“Good night, Slim.”
I chuckle, “Later,” and hang up. After talking with Lyric my head finally shuts down and I am ready to go to sleep.
The next night while driving to the next city on the tour, our bus was in a major accident. Lyric was the only one seriously injured, and I hadn’t spoken or seen her since her family whisked her off, and she dropped all communication. That was more than a month ago. What I wouldn’t do to get her back in my life. I missed our competition, and our snarky commentary. I think I have feelings for her, I miss her…It’s wrong. Lyric has always been like a sister. There is no way I can feel for her beyond that.
