Page 48 of Chronicles of a Rockin' Mess

“Child, do not mess with me. I know you still love that boy, no matter what fucked-up shit he pulled,” she says. I can’t help laughing.

“No, I haven’t talked to him. I don’t know what to say, Mimi. The band is on fire right now. He doesn’t need me pulling him down. I mean shit, he’s been seeing Celia,” I remind her.

Mimi tosses her hand in the air. “If you think he’s in love with Celia, I’ll eat my hat.”

I roll my eyes. “Mimi, be serious. The man dates supermodels, not PAs.”

Mimi sets her coffee down and pats my hand. “You are not just a PA. You are a bright and talented young woman. Your voice…well, you have a gift. If you are too pigheaded to see that, then…well, you have some serious soul-searching to do.”

I sigh. “I…I…,” I stammer and then pause. Mimi has a point. I’m more than just a PA, or I was when I lived in New Orleans. This makes me ponder whether I should be heading back there next week. I had been building a life there.

“No…nope,” she says.

I look up at her, confused.

“You can do better than singing with some old guys in a jazz club,” she states as though she read my mind.

“But that’s the thing, I don’t think there’s a future for me in LA. I love singing with Magnolia Tear. I’m good at it. I’m someone…I’m me when I’m with them. Maybe I never make it big. Maybe I only sing in jazz clubs, but you know what? I think I’m OK with that. It’s enough,” I say to her.

Now, Mimi sighs and shakes her head. “No, my dear, you are so much more than that. Don’t sell yourself short. Hank and the boys had their time in the spotlight, and now playing at those local jazz clubs and a few festivals a year, is all they do, and they are happy with that. But they’ve lived whole lives, seen the world, played in jazz clubs in Paris, New York, and even Tokyo. It’s your turn now. Don’t give up on that dream that brought you to LA. Just because a few pompous record label guys didn’t see the star power shining through you, doesn’t mean your dream is over.”

My phone buzzes, and I see it’s time to get to work. I fish my wallet out of my purse, but Mimi swats my hand away.

“I got this. You go do what you need to do,” she says. I stand up and so does she, pulling me into a hug. I wrap my arms around her, and she squeezes me.

“Lark, you aren’t just named after a songbird, you are one,” she whispers in my ear. I smile. I needed a good Mimi talk. She always makes me feel better.

The press events fly by, and before I know it, I’m at the festival. I get Lincoln settled.

“OK, I need to go get ready,” I say to him.

“Lark, I want to go with you. I’ll watch you,” he says.

I shake my head. “No way. I prefer no one I know in my audience.”

“But—”

I hold up a hand. “I’m going to go now. You stay here and get ready for your show,” I say to him as I head out to a nearby dressing room to change. I turn as I reach the door. “Thanks though, it means a lot that you support me,” I say to him without looking into his eyes. Then, I scurry off to get ready.

I saw the dress on the way out from dinner with Amelia and Savannah. The small boutique clothing store was just closing for the night, but Savannah talked them into staying open so that I could try on the dress. The two of them insisted I buy it. I do have to say, it was perfect. Most of my dresses were longer and flowy, hiding all the flaws my body had. But this dress was short, red, and screamed “look at me.” It was flattering though and hugged me in all the right places.

I do my makeup and hair and give myself a good look in the mirror. I don’t look half bad. It’s one thing to sing a song or two with the band at a festival, it’s another to be on stage as a full-fledged member for their entire set. The small groups of fans hanging out at local jazz clubs in Nola pale in comparison to the thousands of people at this festival.

And with that thought, I make my way to the side stage where Hank, Joe, and Leo are waiting for me. Mimi is there too.

“You ready?” Hank asks me after I get hugs from everyone. “There’s quite the crowd here today.”

I nod. My mouth is suddenly dry as we head up on stage.

I have never been so scared in my entire life. The festival has one main stage and three smaller stages. We are on a smaller stage, but it’s the biggest crowd I’ve ever sung for, and I’m starting to let the fear grip me.

I feel a strong hand on my shoulder. Just before I reach the top step.

I turn, and it’s Hank.

“You got this. Today, the set is all about you and your vocals,” he says to me. We’d gone over everything early. Our play list was comprised of all the songs I loved the most. Some of their originals and some old songs that they love to cover, and I love to sing.

“I’m ready,” I say to him, pulling my confidence out of my ass.

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