AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m still at Andy’s,” he replied. “I’m sitting by the pool.”
“The flu is gone?”
“Mostly, yeah. And I’m trying to quit smoking. Andy says if I don’t, he’ll kick me out.”
I had a trickle of premonition. I suddenly didn’t think this guy was a drug dealer. “Andy who? Travis, where are you staying?”
“Andy Rockweller’s place,” he said, as if this wasn’t a big deal.
“Andy Rockweller?” I had pictured an L.A. lowlife named Andy, not the lead singer of one of the biggest bands of the eighties. I had three of his bestselling records in my vinyl collection. I searched through my memory bank, trying to remember if I had ever met Andy Rockweller when I was famous. I hadn’t. If I’d met him, I’d remember it.
“Yeah, Andy is putting me up for a while. He’s a good guy. His pool is fucking amazing, but his no-smoking rule is no fun. What happened with the hot bass player? Is that a thing?”
“I think it might be. It’s soon to tell. But back up. How are you friends with Andy Rockweller? He’s more than twice your age.”
“I don’t know, man,” Travis said. “I get around. And I’m a nice guy. People like me.”
“I don’t know why.”
“Fuck you, brother.” His tone was good-natured. He was definitely in a good mood, considering he was currently homeless, broke, and in nicotine withdrawal. “If you don’t want advice on getting the hot bass player into bed, then what do you want?”
I took a breath. I had anticipated this moment, rehearsed it in my head, and yet cold sweat beaded on my back beneath my shirt.
I could lie and tell Travis I wanted only to say hi. I could shoot the shit with him, then hang up and go back to my life. Walk the dog. Record the song I had sketched out, then save it to the hard drive in my basement, where no one would ever hear it.
I could do all of that if I wanted. Nothing had to change.
Then I remembered Juliet saying she liked the music. She had been on top of me at the time, reaching into my pants, but that wasn’t why she said it. To Juliet, music was more important than sex, more important than friendship. She never lied about music. If she said she liked it, even with her hand on my dick, it was because she liked it. And if Juliet liked music, that meant the music was good.
The music was good. I knew that. But when it was only on a hard drive in my basement, I could tell myself it was good and not have anyone challenge it. It was easy that way, when I didn’t have to deal with anyone’s reactions. When the only one listening was me.
Maybe it had been long enough, though. Maybe, after all these years, that nineteen-year-old kid with the world crashing around him could put out music again.
“Finn?” Travis asked from his poolside chair in L.A.
“I need an agent,” I said.
The words were out, hanging there. Final. No taking it back.
Travis sounded serious, as if he knew how hard that had been. “Okay. You had an agency before, didn’t you? You’re not going to call them?”
“I cut ties with everyone,” I said. “Over a decade ago now. I don’t know anyone in the business anymore. I don’t know where to start.”
A beat of silence. “That’s not true,” Travis said. “You know one person. Me. But considering my agent was ripping me off, along with my record company, I am not in the most stellar level of consideration in the music business at the moment. Advice from me is probably of the lowest possible quality.”
“I don’t agree,” I said. “I think someone who’s been through what you’ve been through has good advice, not bad. At least you know who not to hire.”
He laughed. “I do know that. This is about the songs, isn’t it? You want to release them.”
“I want to talk to someone about releasing them,” I said. “It depends on the deal.”
“Smart boy,” Travis said. “It’s almost like you’ve been fucked over by this business before. It’s hardly an exclusive club. You only have to sell your soul to join.”
“The songs have been on my hard drive long enough,” I said. “I’m tired of making music alone. I think I’d like to make music with other people, at least for a while. I think I’m ready.”
“They’re good songs, man,” Travis said, with no artifice, just genuine admiration. “I’ve told you and told you.”
“You have,” I said. “And I appreciate it. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. Which has been a long time now.”
