Page 50 of Chronicles of a Rockin' Mess

I step back into the hallway behind the stage and walk down it until I find Lincoln’s dressing room. I go inside and close the door behind me before calling Hank.

“What’s up? Voltage Drop is on right now, so I’m trying to stay side stage,” I explain.

“You did it, kiddo,” he says to me.

“Did what?” I ask, completely confused and wondering if Hank’s been hitting the bottle since we left the stage, but heavy drinking isn’t really his thing.

“You know who Roger Shapiro is?” he asks. I swallow because I do know who that is. He was one of the guys who turned me down. He’s a record executive. A friend of a friend I met in LA called in a favor, and I got two minutes, like literally two minutes, with him. He stopped me after one minute and told me that I wasn’t what his label was looking for.

“He wants to meet you,” Hank continues. “You need to get back to our stage.”

I sigh. Roger Shapiro isn’t the type of person you turn down meeting. But my pride also wants to tell him to “fuck off.”

“Hank…I…don’t know,” I stammer.

Hank is quiet for a moment. “He’s one of them. Isn’t he?”

“One of who?” I ask.

“One of the ones that turned you down before,” he states.

I nod and then realize he can’t see me. “Yes,” I whisper.

“That was four years ago, Lark. Things change. If he’s willing to give you another chance, maybe you should give him another chance,” Hank says. I want to tell Hank that not all people are good. Not all people do the right thing. Hank always thinks the best of people. It’s something I love about him, but I also think it’s one of his biggest flaws.

“Lark, at least come hear him out,” he says.

I sigh again. Hank is right. I should at least hear what he has to say. “Fine, give me five minutes,” I say, shaking my head. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I feel like a sellout.

I hang up and find Ellie. “El, can you hold down the fort? I need to go talk with someone really fast, OK?” I ask her.

“Sure. Everything alright?” she asks.

I nod. She smiles, and I head off to meet the dick who turned me down when I was a timid eighteen-year-old.

Chapter 24

Roger Shapiro looks just like he did the day he crushed my dreams. He’s tall, thin but muscled. And his hair is slicked over in a bad nineteen-eighties comb-over. He’s in his sixties but seems much younger than Hank, Joe, and Leo.

“Lark, good to see you,” he says cheerily as I approach him.

“Roger,” I reply. I know I sound bitchy, but part of me just doesn’t care. I’m not even sure why Roger is here and asking to speak with me. But I suppose I have to “kiss the ring.”

The only reaction my coolness has on Roger is his eyes squint slightly.

“You’ve really come into your own, Lark,” he continues like some sort of used car salesperson. “I was very impressed with your stage presence, and your vocals were just…well, amazing. I wish I’d seen this potential in you when you came to visit me all those years ago.”

I cock my head to one side, pondering if he really remembers me. I was a no one who took all of ninety seconds of his time.

I see Hank smile nervously. And that’s who reminded Roger who I was. I give Hank a look, and he shrugs.

“Well, that was a long time ago,” I say to him because shit, that’s the truth. I was another person back then.

“I’d love to talk with you more about your music career when you’re back in LA next week,” he goes on. “Here’s my card. I’ll make sure to let my assistant know you’ll be calling.”

The fact that the asshat just assumes I’ll call sort of pisses me off. OK, it really pisses me off, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I take his card and try to plaster what I hope is a grateful smile on my face.

“Thanks, Roger. I’ll be sure to call once we are back in LA,” I say to him.

---