Page 23
A tap at the door has me cursing. I climb off the bed and stalk towards it. Yanking it open, I’m ready to tell Tash to fuck off, but find Moe instead, with a bottle of whisky and two glasses. “Thought you could use a drink. Fuck knows I need one.”
I snort and walk over to the bed and sit on the end of it, flicking the TV on for background noise. “I’ve never been so glad to be heading home.”
“Amen to that.” He hands me a glass before twisting off the cap and pouring us both a healthy shot.
“You speak to Jacko at all?”
“About an hour ago. The operation went well, he’s back home now, bored out of his brain. His words, not mine.”
“I’d do pretty much anything to be bored right now.”
He chuckles. “It’s not the rock and roll lifestyle I envisioned, that’s for sure.”
“Do you ever regret it?”
“Sometimes. But I love playing music, and I love our band. I’m not sure I’m cut out for all this, but if that’s the price I have to pay, then so be it.”
I down the drink in one. The passion I once had for music is waning, making me feel like a fucking punk because so much is riding on me.
“You need to remember why we started this, but you also have to remember your end game.”
I look over at him sharply. He and the band know nothing about the real reason behind the tours.
“You play because you love it, because everywhere we go brings in new audiences and new fans. I mean, for sure, for some bands this would be the beginning of a life spent on the road in hopes of getting some elusive record deal, but we’re not some punk-ass teenagers anymore.” He frowns at that, giving me the side eye and making me chuckle over the fact that after TJ, I’m the baby of the band.
“My point is, this shit is a young man’s game. I have a wife and a kid. I’d have jumped at tour life a decade ago, travelling the country or even the world, but my priorities have changed now. When you mentioned driving across the UK and occasionally Europe, mostly at the drop of a hat, and on the whims of whichever venue would take us, I thought you were nuts. But I was game. And Lick, I still am. But this shit with Tash? Something’s gotta give.”
I rub my hand over my face as he pours me another drink. This one I sip, enjoying the familiar burn as it makes its way down my throat. “You mentioned endgame. What’s your endgame, if it’s not world domination?”
He grins, taking a long swig of his own drink. “I find myself interested in the same shit you once mentioned to me. I like the idea of scouting out new, talented solo artists and bands, helping them find success and avoid the pitfalls and failures. You want to find people and link them to the club and send them out to do what we’re doing now while staying home and taking a cut, right?”
That was what I had in mind when I started all this, yeah. I just haven’t had time to figure out all the details. I’m already spread too thin as it is between the MC, Shooters, and the band.
“Yeah, that was the end game.” I finish my drink and hold out my glass for another.
“Then I say let’s start moving the pieces now. Let’s scout talent while we are out here, have people perform at Shooters, and make it one of the hottest places to get your music heard. Create a record label and sign people to you. Or us.”
“Us?”
“Fuck yes, you aren’t getting rid of me that easily.” He holds out his glass for me to clink, which I do. “The best thing about that means we can fire Tash.”
Not sure my dad will go for that. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have hired her in the first place. “Maybe we can foist her off to one of the new acts we’d sign.”
“Do you really want to give that viper any reason to be around us?”
I sigh and take another drink. “Fuck no.”
“We should just get rid of her now. She’s making us look bad. I’m not sure what she even does for us other than give us a headache, and my wife fucking hates her.”
“Yeah, she is not what you’d call a girl’s girl. Leave it with me. I need to make sure that whatever we do, there is no fallback on us—nothing that could hurt us either now or in the future. That woman is vindictive enough to play the long game and keep quiet until someone we sign makes it big and then fire her shots when they can cause the maximum amount of damage.”
He abandons the glass at that, and starts swigging from the bottle.
“So, a label, huh?”
“Why the fuck not? I know I’m making it sound far easier than it actually is. But we have advantages that others didn’t back in the day when they were trying to get labels off the ground, like social media and a venue. Throw in our own experiences, and I think we could really be on to something.”
The weight of responsibility lays heavy on me. My club needs me to get their guns out. It’s what I agreed to, and as a club brother, I don’t get to turn shit down just because it’s not as fun as I thought it would be. My brothers are relying on me. But then so are my band and Shooters.
