Page 34 of A Tragic Melody

“Tuesday’s guy, Lenny. He will do double duty for a few nights until we find someone.”

“You think he can play my songs? Songs I wrote and partly own? And is Tuesday okay with this?”

“I’m not sure she knows or cares,” Davey says with a shrug.

“You guys have no idea what you’re doing,” I say walking toward the back of the bus. I quickly start throwing my stuff in my duffel bag.

They are going to regret this. This won’t end well for them. I’ll be stuck making music for others to play while they are working dead-end jobs back home.

Fuck. I picked the wrong girl to piss off.

This fucking sucks.

I spend the next hour making sure the sound crew knows which guitars are mine. I have them pull them from the lineup. I’m not letting this Lenny guy use my guitars to take my spot.

Then I skim over the contract. I’m not sure if they can legally kick me out of the band I helped form, or if I even own any of the music I wrote. I did write literally all of it. I think they may have changed a few things up a little during the recording process, but it’s all my music.

It does look like I’ll get royalties, so that’s good, but I want my music. I wrote it, it belongs to me. It should belong to me. No one else will be able to play it as good as I can.

It’s bullshit that after everything, they just toss me to the side. I got them here. I made them the music that got us famous. Before me, none of them were going to accomplish anything. They had some skill, but I helped them become talented. The label isn’t going to want them without me. When it comes time for the next record, it will all be clear—I was what gave the band its edge.

I couldn’t make much with them, but without me, it would be worse. They aren’t capable of doing what I do. Their skill level has a ceiling. I got them there. Before me, they were bottom tier. And it will show when I’m gone.

I’m outside the venue trying to figure out my next move. I should call the label, but part of me is scared that if I call them, they will force the band to keep me. That’s not something I’m willing to do now. Not when I know they were willing to kick me out.

And for what? Because the whole world knew I was an addict? Is that really that bad? Even Hendricks wasn’t willing to part with me over it. I know I’ve been a bit of a downer and keeping to myself, but it’s not like we were ever that close to begin with. If this is because I got in the way of Simon hooking up with Tuesday, that would be beyond childish.

So, for all that, even if they came back and begged me to play with them again, I wouldn’t. The only way they get me back is if Hendricks demands it, and even then, I’m not sure I care enough to go back. He can force me to write music for other bands. I’d consider that better than going back to a band who discarded me over nothing.

I need to buy a plane ticket back home. Not sure I’m going to get all my guitars there in one piece. The label had them shipped here through special orders. I could rent a car, but that seems like a horrible journey to take alone.

I stand outside the venue by the buses, my bags and guitars piled by my feet as I try to figure out my next move.

“Going somewhere?”

Of all people, she is the last person I want to see right now. I don’t like that she gets to gloat about destroying me.

My eyes drift up. Her blonde hair is done up in two buns, sitting on the sides of her head. Red lipstick covers her lips, making her pale skin striking. She’s wearing this tight little black dress that barely goes down her thighs, with a blue leather jacket over it. Tall black boots make her about two inches taller.

Her smokey eyes do little to hide the fact she is high, nor does the big smile she has plastered across her face.

“Home.”

“Home?” She tilts her head to the side, studying me. “But we have a show tonight.”

“You have a show tonight. I don’t even have a band anymore.”

“What?” Shock crosses her face.

“Guess you didn’t hear about that, huh?” I laugh. “Lenny is filling in for me, until they can find a more permanent replacement.”

“I wasn’t aware of that.” She folds her arms across her chest, pressing her lips together. “I’m sorry to hear your band kicked you out.”

“No you aren’t.” I laugh again. She is probably thrilled about all this. “It’s okay to enjoy your victory. I don’t hold it against you. Couldn’t if I wanted to.”

“What does that mean?”

“I know, okay? About Hendricks’s obsession with you. He’s the reason I didn’t join you. Or well, I think it was him. I’m not entirely sure, but I was warned to stay away from you, and he said the same thing when we had our little chat. You’re untouchable, and you got your wish. I’m done.”