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"Yes. I don't want this incredible ride to end. I have so much more to give, to say."
"It doesn't have to end." Calvin steps into my personal space, and I hang on to his every word. "You can go solo. It's been done before, lots of times."
My head shakes before he finishes the sentence. I can't imagine doing this alone. I can't imagine doing this without my band. "We formed the band because we didn't want to be alone." I whisper a piece of our origin story. Seven strange kids with different musical tastes, from different parts of town, different backgrounds and skills not understood by anyone but each other. Scattered souls that somehow found one another.
"How about…" Marshall starts and halts. It's obvious the boys have been discussing our band.
"Out with it," I press. If there's a way to keep the band together, I'm all ears.
Calvin raises a hand in Marshall's direction and gives him the let me start look. "You guys are at the top of the game right now, right?"
He starts in a place he knows I won't disagree. I give him the head nod he's seeking.
"You are out two guitarists. A lead and a bass player, right?"
Once again, he states the obvious. He lifts his hand to Marshall, prompting him to take the handoff.
"Well, I represent a new solo artist who just so happens to have two guitar-playing brothers without a band and plenty of time on their hands."
I lean forward, not believing what I'm hearing. My pulse kicks up as I sense where he's going. A similar thought crossed my mind the minute Calvin mentioned Marshall was joining him.
At the end of last year, Calvin brought me and the band to Boston to play on a track for one of Marshall's artists, Hailey. Because of the short notice, we were short two members, and we had Hailey's two brothers sit in for the track.
"And they have played with your band before," Marshall pushes.
He’s right. It was only one song, and we were together for only half a day. Adam, on bass, fit in seamlessly with the band. He’s quiet, mellow, observant, respectful, and talented.
"Laredo." The name slips out of my mouth as I forget to use my inside voice. Laredo is Adam's twin, yet is the opposite in every imaginable way. He's arrogant, loud, and thinks he's God's gift to women. I've dealt with his type before, but never as a bandmate. He has the capability of ruining the delicate chemistry we have. This is the reason I dismissed it.
"Laredo's solo album is stuck in purgatory." Calvin fills in the blanks before I can speak. Back in Boston, Laredo wiggled it into every conversation he had signed with a label and would record a chart-topping album any day now. He shared his news with one intent, looking to impress his way into my pants. I've been in this industry long enough, and it takes a lot more than dreamy eyes and false promises to make it over the walls I've built.
Calvin completes the non-surprising update. "Lots of creative differences going on, and Laredo is exercising the out clause in his contract."
I scoff as I can imagine the source of the creative differences. "And you think I should take on that baggage?" I ask more myself. Laredo's ego doesn't allow him to reach his full potential. He's probably one of the most talented guitarists I've come across, but you'd never know it by seeing him perform. He uses music to get what he wants in life. He'll never reach his potential until he realizes if you respect the music, it will deliver whatever you want.
"I've spent a lot of time around the brothers," Marshall chimes in, reminding me he's not only Hailey's producer but also her life partner. Their meet cute as the Seaside Music festival is the stuff of dreams.
Marshall has spent weeks with Hailey in her hometown in Indiana with her entire family. "I've never seen anyone shut Laredo down the way you did. You may be the Laredo whisperer. If anyone can get him to behave on stage, it's you."
I wave a dismissive hand at Marshall. I'm nobody's babysitter.
"Seaside." One word and Calvin has my complete attention. "The Seaside Music Festival in Oregon starts in two weeks. Why don't you take it out for a test drive?"
A quick smile pulls on my face as the memory of our band pulling a surprise appearance at the festival last year. Five thousand music fans showering us with love. The week-long music festival is one of the largest on the West Coast and hosts a massive lineup of up-and-coming and established artists. It wraps with a series of weekend headliner concerts with some of the biggest artists around.
My silence gives the boys confidence. "I can get you on the workshop schedule early in the week. Just you and the brothers. See if they behave, and it might work." Marshall lays the breadcrumb at my feet.
"I'm listening."
That's when Calvin offers the main course. "If you like what you see, we can have the rest of the band fly out, and I can make a call and get you some stage time." Calvin is a humble soul and doesn't pull strings for just anyone. He produces one of the most popular artists on the planet—his brother, the rapper Prince Ali—but you'd never know it by hanging out with him. He's a gentle soul with a kind heart and zero ego. "Friday, Saturday, or even Sunday."
I bite my lower lip at the mention of Sunday. That's the ultimate slot to perform at the festival, the largest of all the concerts. It always has a world-famous headliner, a special guest opener, and a short roster of the crème de la crème in the industry. It's been a dream of mine to perform on the Sunday stage for years.
I want to leap at the opportunity. It has all my favorite things. Music, fans, and my band. Wow, is my list that short? Logic tells me to slow down. To not leap in, even though my heart is pounding in my chest.
How do I explain it to Dax and the rest of the gang? They've not even packed their gear from this concert, and I'll be asking them to fly halfway across the country with zero notice after promising to give them time at home.
It's one day. One concert. The justifications flow through my head. One after another.
