Page 16 of Accidental Fire
Copies of the review were taped everywhere—on the windows, in our bunks, on the television screen, on top of the table—so we couldn’t avoid it. None of us spoke the whole ride back to the record label’s offices, and we hadn’t spoken while we were home either. We all knew we were fucking things up, but none of us knew what to say, so we said nothing, even as we drove to Ensenada from Tijuana, where we landed for our next tour stops.
What could we say? We recognize that we were immature and selfish, but we might do it again. We’d known we were too wasted to give a good performance, but we’d been too afraid to do the show sober. Would anyone believe us or have any empathy for us?
The whole band had been stoned out of our minds at that show. The ass chewing Marshall gave Arlo and me on the way back to San Jose after the bus dropped all of us off at the studio in LA was more than I needed to hear, but I took it to heart. I hoped the rest of the guys gave it some serious thought.
When we arrived at Marsh’s house, where Arlo and I were renting rooms, we decided we didn’t want to deal with Marshall anymore, so we both packed our shit and went to stay with Mom,Hope, and Regal for the short time we were home. It wasn’t the most comfortable visit, what with Arlo and Regal not speaking, but thankfully, we weren’t sleeping on the ground. Arlo took my room, and I took the porch daybed.
I needed to find my own place to live, so when I had time off, I could be away from everyone in the band—and my family. But between the tour and our sessions in the recording studio, we wouldn’t have much downtime until the break in August. I was looking forward to Jackson, Wyoming, where we were scheduled to play an acoustic show at the Mountain Sky Ski Resort.
Initially, none of us had been sold on the idea of an acoustic show, but there was a huge convention there, and they’d hired us to perform for their Diamonds and Denim party. I’d warmed up to the idea more when we were working out the beginning of the LA show, which we’d fucked up, but now that I better understood how to do it, I was looking forward to giving it a try.
The guys, however, weren’t so excited. On the ride back to LA, Hardy asked Marshall, “What was our price to change everything about our music to suit a bunch of corporate assholes?” Marshall didn’t have an answer. He’d negotiated it with the record label without consulting us, and everyone was still pissed.
When we arrived at Sol de Baja Resort and Spa, Marshall was waiting for us in the lobby, along with Kit Hansen. Marsh was at the front desk, flirting with a pretty desk clerk, and Kit was sitting on a wicker sofa that offered a view of the beach, drinking a bottle of Mexican beer.
Kit stood when he saw us, and I tried to hide my smile. He was wearing a pair of tan shorts and a white T-shirt with black flip-flops. He had a slight sunburn, and the aviator sunglasses sitting on top of his head looked perfect.
His stunning long hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and I nearly swallowed my tongue as I watched him head over to where we were standing just inside the front doors.
“Hey, guys. Allen and I put your acoustics in your penthouse suite if you want to practice or work on new music. How was your flight?” Kit reached for the suitcase I was pulling behind me, taking it and heading toward the desk where Marsh was still fucking around.
Kit tapped Marsh on the shoulder. “You have their keys?”
Marsh glanced at me and the others, seeming to have forgotten why the fuck he was eveninMexico. The woman behind the counter giggled as she handed Marshall a stack of keycards in folios with aPon them.
“Oh, hi, guys. Welcome to Mexico. I have the keys to your penthouse. Everyone else in the crew is already here. Hansen got here the other day and has been enjoying the hospitality of the resort. I’ve reserved the spa for our group starting at two, and I expect you to relax for a while. You’re free to do whatever you want for the evening, so long as you don’t get arrested. I’m not in the mood to try to break you out of a Mexican jail.”
Marshall then handed out business cards—hisbusiness cards—to everyone, including the roadies who had joined us by then, before he held up his hands.
“Today, have fun. Get spa treatments. Eat, drink, and have a great time. Water sports equipment rentals are at your disposal, along with moonlight cruises. Whatever you want to do is on me and Sound Wave Studios, okay?
“Use that business card to pay for anything at the resort. We want all of you to enjoy yourselves while you’re here, but if you go off the resort, you’re on your own. Just be careful if you go into town and don’t start any trouble.
“Things are about to get hectic, what with you touring and going back into the studio between shows. There will be daysoff, and Ashby has mentioned they might try to score some more gigs to hype you to the public, so take advantage of the time you have now. The show in San Diego was much better than LA. There wasn’t anyone there to review it, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t great.”
My gut clenched at his comment. Did that mean Marsh wasn’t pissed anymore?
The show in San Diego had been only marginally better than the one at The Offbeat. We still hadn’t found our rhythm, and we weren’t playing our best, but ithadbeen better.
We’d cut back on smoking before the show, but we’d still smoked some because Hardy had a friend who’d hooked him up, though the quality wasn’t as good as what Marshall had confiscated. The plus was that the music got better earlier in the set, but it still wasn’t as good as when we played for ourselves.
“If we’re being honest, we know the show in San Diego wasn’t much better than the one in LA. We’re still playing like shit.” I turned to my bandmates, not thrilled with our recent performance. “We’ve got to figure out what the hell we’re doing wrong.”
Kit’s strong hand touched my back. “Let’s all go up to your suite and have a talk, okay? I wasn’t at the show in San Diego, but I’m a fan of Accidental Fire, so I know what you’re capable of creating. You’ve just gotta figure out what’s keeping you from playing like a band. You have the day off, so how about you guys relax andtalkto each other instead of ignoring or yelling.”
I took a deep breath. “That’s a good idea.” I glanced at the guys, and everyone nodded.
Kit escorted us to the elevator that went to the top floor of the hotel. When JD opened the door with his keycard, we were all shocked to see such a gorgeous room.
Lots of beautiful Mexican art and décor were spread around the penthouse. The view from the large balcony was unbelievable.
Kit pulled my suitcase inside and stopped to take in the view. “This is pretty great.” He then turned to me. “You wanna get some lunch? The food’s pretty amazing here.”
He was staring at me, and as I glanced at the empty room, I realized the rest of the band had disappeared. “Uh, sure. I guess I need to—”
“Your acoustic guitar is in that room where I put it.” He pointed down the hall to an open door, so I nodded and walked toward it.
I tossed my suitcase on the bed and pulled out my toiletry kit before I headed to the bathroom. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, combing my hair and realizing that maybe Lauren was right. I could use a new look.
