Page 31 of Shame Me
With that, he pounded the liquid in the glass and stood. “Thanks, Dani.” As he headed toward the bathroom, I thought about his last few words.Wouldhis dad have contacted him? There were so many unknowns thatIwasn’t so sure—but it was such a sensitive subject, I didn’t want to push it with Zack. Besides, he’d have to talk to his dad when he was ready.
I decided that I would be here when he was so I could support him in whatever way he needed. And, just like that, my heart was finally beginning to thaw.
CHAPTER 9
In mid-March, I asked for a couple of days off in the middle of the week so I could visit my mom and grandparents. My mom had a week off from school for spring break and agreed to meet at my grandparents’ house, because they lived just about in the middle between Denver and Nopal. Although the idea of driving down I-70 in Denver scared the shit out of me due to the traffic, I was homesick—not for Nopal, really, but for my family.
It was only two days but it recharged me more than I’d anticipated. Being around my mother and grandmother helped tremendously, reminding me that all my friends were guys. I wanted to change that, but two things stopped me. The first was that I didn’t reallylikeany of the girls I worked with and the second was that, if I did, would I be setting myself up for another Ava-like disappointment?
I’d have to make a point of visiting my family more often. Weekly phone calls weren’t enough.
But I came back, excited and invigorated. Thus far in the short career of Once Upon a Riot, we’d played dozens of venues, but only a couple had we played more than once—and, everytime I asked, Zack promised we still had plenty more we hadn’t yet set foot in.
Although the days and shows blended into one another, we were getting pumped, because Zack had started gathering information about local recording studios—and the one that really impressed him was probably going to cost more than we’d saved. But Zack assured us not to worry because we’d likely earn what we needed by the end of spring.
Except that our first show in April changed everything.
We were playing in a smaller venue, a glorified bar, but the vibe was amazing. We could easily see the entire audience and could smell the booze from the stage—but they were eager, excited, and hungry for whatever we gave them. The energy in the place made my arms feel lighter than ever, and I hit every beat perfectly.
It was a hell of a show—and good thing, because once we got off the stage and started loading up our equipment, we were approached by a polished-looking guy wearing a blue polo shirt and the nicest pair of jeans I’d ever seen.
He looked like a model.
“You guys have a minute to talk?”
Zack’s voice sounded as skeptical as I felt. Still, he said, “Yeah, sure.”
Because we’d been the one and only band playing the bar, there was no hurry for us to get our instruments and equipment out of there. They were playing metal music overhead to keep the vibe going, but the live entertainment was over for the evening. I thought I wouldn’t mind playing here again, not knowing I’d never again have the chance.
“Let’s go outside for a minute.” As we followed him through the bar, we got a few slaps on the back and handshakes from people in the happy crowd. I didn’t know why we were following this slick guy almost like lambs to slaughter—but we all hada feeling…there was something about him that we dared not ignore.
Once we got outside, I enjoyed the breezy feel of spring—but with the sun long gone, I should have worn a jacket. “My name’s Chad Barnes, and I’m the A&R rep for Crushed Velvet Records.” Before we could even question it, he was handing each one of us business cards. But we’d been here how many times before? I hoped my scowl told him I knew he was full of shit. “Kyle Summers had a lot of good things to say about you guys. So I watched you last night at Harry’s and again tonight.”
Holy shit. This was fucking real.
I glanced down at the card again. It wasn’t too hard to read with the city lights beaming down on us, and my thumb glided over his embossed name, along with theCrushed Velvetdesign, the letters drawn in such a way that they formed a disk.
A record…a CD.
My heart was thudding in my chest, because I knew this really was Kyle Summers’s record label. She’d done it. She’d actually done it. That wasn’t to knock the Fully Automatic band members, because now I knew this guy had been stalking us, deciding if he wanted to represent us before approaching us—so, even though big stars could spot our talent, that didn’t mean the reps could.
But this guy had.
My mind saw the future—the four of us touring, our music playing on the radio, our videos showing up online, fans across the world discovering our sound. And I got so lost there that I missed most of the conversation until Chad shook my hand.
“Talk about it and let me know what you decide.”
As he walked away, I still felt somewhat shellshocked. Had that been real?
Zack said, “Don’t let that all get to your head. We still have work to do here.”
We followed him back inside, heading toward the stage so we could finish packing up our instruments and equipment. I tended to take the drums first, feeling like they were my primary responsibility, but then I’d help with whatever was left—amps, mics and mic stands, cables, pedals, and whatever else was left. The guys were the same way, packing up their instruments before anything else.
Zack had been bringing two different guitars to our shows over the past couple of months—I could only imagine what he’d be like when we made it big.
While we were loading up the van with the last of the equipment, Braden said, “I bet that guy was full of shit.”
Zack took some cords from him to shimmy in among everything else. “What makes you say that?”
