Page 24 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

He stalls, perhaps for dramatic effect, but I’m about to have a heart attack. “I just booked you for twelve new gigs over the next three weeks!”

I spin and face the others on the couch, who have stopped what they’re doing and are now looking over with interest. “You what?” I ask. I need to hear it again.

“Twelve more shows, Noblar. That’s four days a week. Not only that, but the venues are bigger!”

My jaw has dropped somewhere between my shoulders and the floor. “How—how is that possible?” I ask.

He scoffs. “Honestly? I don’t really know. But we got a call from the manager at Legendary saying his place had never been busier and asking when could you come back. Next thing I know, I’ve got phone calls coming in from all over Oakland!”

“That’s incredible, Al! I can’t— Wow, that’s amazing fucking news.” I say, my mouth finally settling into a permanent grin.

“There’s more!” he continues.

“More?”

“I may have managed to book you guys four solid days of studio time.”

“Holy shit, really?”

Before Al can even give me the details, James, Joel, and Key have jumped over the couch and are trying to tear the phone out of my hand to listen in.

“Next week on Monday and Tuesday, and the week after, too! Who knows, maybe there’ll be more. But this is what we needed—a foot in the door. I don’t know how you guys managed to do it. You’re either magic or the luckiest sons of bitches I ever met.”

Lucky.

I’ve never been lucky before the past few months. My whole life seemed to be one unlucky and unfortunate event after the other. Key grabs the phone out of my hand and I back away as the others yell for Al to tell them what he just told me. From my pocket, I once again draw out the plastic keychain. It’s warm because it’s been in my pocket all day. Can this silly thing really be lucky? Everyone will call me crazy if I ever admit to it, but there’s something aboutthis. Something in my gut that tells me this is special. That finding this little lost artifact in my hand was the turning point. Or maybe I’m just desperate not to feel so cursed.

As the guys scream and yell with excitement over the news, the idea solidifies in my mind that after so much failure, so many bad things and broken dreams, maybe this is finally my time. Our time. But luck doesn’t tend to give with both hands. It gently offers fractions at a time, as if to a starving dog. There always has to be balance. So now I’ll wait . . . for the other shoe to drop.

CHAPTER 8

Five Years Ago

DAVE

“Dave, what the hell is this?” Emily asks, holding up the report card I’d purposefully tossed in the trash. I briefly look at her as the piece of paper I’d been writing on falls to the floor at my feet.

“It’s not a big deal.”

She disappears behind the report with the school emblem at the top, then lowers it, her eyes narrowing on me. “Seriously? You only passed PE and wood shop?”

I scuff my foot along the carpet on the floor of the garage, trying to hide the fallen note. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

She crumples my report card and squeezes the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Baby, what do you expect to do for a job if you can’t even fucking graduate high school?”

Shrugging, I cross my arms over my chest. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter. I won’t need a regular job, I—”

“I swear to Christ, if you say you’re going to ‘make it big’ in music one more time, I’m going to throw myself off the roof.”

I scoff. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

She shifts her weight and places her hands on herhips. “I’m being dramatic? What the hell are you going to do come June, Dave? Sell your kidney?”

Tilting my head, I feign an interested expression. “How much do you think I could get for one?”

“And what is your dad going to say?”

I shrug. “Probably about as much as he’d say if I got all As. Which is nothing. I’m just a huge loser to him, no matter what I do.”

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