Page 31 of Dark Verse

“Look, I’m not asking you to sight-read perfectly or suddenly become experts. But I’d rather you have something than nothing when we need to make changes on the fly. Future rehearsals will move much faster. We’re going to tighten transitions and refine details daily. I’ll have new standards you’ll need to practice outside of the time we have here. Having sheet music available for yourself is going to set you up for success. That’s always my goal.”

Zeke’s head bounces along to my words as he listens. “So even if it’s messy, even if we don’t really use it…”

“Bring it anyway. Highlight it. Scribble on it. Ignore half of it. But have it here. Because the moment you need it and don’t have it, that’s when it matters most.”

“Okay,” he says. “That makes sense.”

I glance at Knox, expecting him to push back more, but he just nods along. I turn my head at the sound of the back door opening, and I realize I’ve run out of time with the Nightshades. Victor, Davis, and Nat are entering.

“Thanks for your time today, everyone,” I say. “Please work on the transitions in Slow Motion Sky and Drift. Same time tomorrow, 9:00 am,” I stress the time, glancing at Knox. I know he’s the only one likely to miss that call time. Because, of course, he was late again today with another flimsy ass excuse.

Craving another caffeine boost before the Heirs begin their rehearsal, I duck into the small office and pour myself another coffee. Knowing I am creating a vicious cycle, I nevertheless drink the dark brew in a few delicious gulps. I glance through my email as I drink, seeing several pressing items that need my attention. I go to open the first, but the tuning of instruments pulls me back onto the main floor as the Heirs of Dillusion start.

Like yesterday with the Nightshades, I only watch and listen to them, taking notes of areas for improvement that we can discuss in the coming days. Truthfully, they are tighter than the Nightshades as a band, their rhythm so constant across every song that I would swear they all have metronomes for hearts. Nat is a solid alto, with her more sultry tones adding a nice layer to their folk and country covers.

Two hours with them come and go. As they are leaving, I remind them that we’ll cover my notes tomorrow morning at the beginning of their rehearsal slot.

The afternoon drags by, filled to the brim with business matters. First, a phone call to the city clerk to check up on the status of our liquor license renewal. Next, reviewing the contracts of several touring artists that will be making a stop at House Band Featuring. And then…and then… and then…

I hardly look up from my computer screen for the rest of the workday. I’m actually pleased for the distraction when Danica comes in just after five to discuss our promotional plans. The need for an entirely new sound system has pushed our relaunch date into late July, if we’re lucky. However, that also allows us to do a proper promotional plan to implement over the next month.

“I finally got the cross-posting up and working again,” Danica says, “So now you only need to be logged into one of the accounts, and the post should go to all of them.”

That’s a huge relief. I swear someone is making a new social media app every other Tuesday, and it feels impossible to keep up sometimes.

“Thank you for working on that. How are the metrics looking on engagement in general?”

“Up across the board. With the first month’s worth of headliners set, we’ve been seeing boosts across every platform, most likely from their fans but also from locals who are expressing interest in attending the upcoming shows. Hen is meeting with an influencer he knows for dinner tonight. I checked her out. She has almost two hundred thousand followers as a textile artist or something like that, so it could make for an interesting collaboration.”

“That could make for an interesting collab,” I agree. “I look forward to Hen’s thoughts on what we can do with her.”

“Also, I finally got a hold of the plumber to look at the men’s bathroom on the second floor.”

“All good news. Good call on the Heirs, by the way,” I say. “They are young but have a great firm base. I think they have real potential.”

“I feel the same about the Nightshades.” She pauses in thought. “Yeah, they are a bit messier, but that’s to be expected.”

“Is it?”

“Well, yeah. You know what happened a couple of years ago with them, right?”

I’m unable to stop myself from leaning forward in my chair. “No, what happened?”

“Knox left the band years ago. They were pretty vague about the reasons at the time, but my guess…probably drugs. It’s usually, sadly, drugs with musicians in my experience. If you check their social media, he disappeared from their page about four years ago. I’m pretty sure this thing they posted the other day is the first time I’ve seen him on their official page as far back as you can scroll.”

Danica holds her phone out for me to see the screen. The video is muted, but I see Octavia’s mouth moving as she sits between the other members of the Nightshades. Knox looks less relaxed than I’m used to seeing him. He keeps playing with his right shirt sleeve, pulling my focus to his three-quarter sleeve tattoo on his right arm every few seconds. My eyes begin narrowing in on his arms, my brain wanting to focus not only on the details of the tattoo but on the strength that clearly lay dormant in those muscles at the moment.

Nope, stop that.

Instead, I read the caption and see that it’s indeed a special announcement video letting fans and casual viewers alike know that Knox is returning to the stage as the frontman. There seems to be a lot of people flooding the comments, showing a lot of love for him and excitement for his return. Most of them are upbeat and encouraging, however, I clock a few that probably need to be scrubbed from their page. Whoever @ms.gill.pill is should probably consider a career in writing erotica. The highly sexual nature of the words is not helping me and that commentator is not the only one like that. That is not how I want to be viewing Knox right now.

“So he really hasn’t played regularly with them in years,” I say aloud, handing Danica her phone back.

His inability to stay in tempo with the rest of the band makes sense. And why his hands seemed to be tired by the end of rehearsal these last two days.

“I don’t think so. Which says a lot about him as a musician. He hasn’t played in years, and he’s still that good,” Danica sounds impressed.

And honestly, I am too. I’m realizing that I’ve only ever heard him play wildly out of practice by most people’s standards. I think it’s time to start listening to the Nightshades backlog of music.