Freefall (24 page)

Brody shrugged. “I don’t know. The thought of playing onstage stresses me out. I mean, I still get nervous playing in front of Seth, and he’s only
one
new person.”

I didn’t have to try hard to muster up some empathy for
this one. Brody was standoffish for a good reason; he was suffering from stage fright.

Xander pushed his hair out of his eyes and looked at Brody. “It sounds like you’re over-thinking it. Like maybe you’re focusing on the wrong thing. Seth, you tell him. Playing music onstage is always going to be nerve-racking, but it’s a rush, too.”

I didn’t answer; I was still trying to process Brody’s confession and work out how it might affect this coming weekend, as well as the band in general.

“It
was
cool, right, Seth?” Taku prompted. “You felt good about your shows, like they were worth getting nervous over?”

“I don’t know.” I knew I wasn’t helping their cause, but with Rosetta’s and my deal being officially off since her panic attack at my car—we both thought it would be better to let her work with her new therapist instead of pushing her to meet a deadline—I was A-okay with this live gig not happening. “Maybe we should cancel the gig,” I said, trying to sound as casual as possible. “I mean, there was never a reason for us to rush into this in the first place.”

“There’s a reason to do it
now
, though,” Xander said. “We have a performance scheduled at a real, live venue. We don’t want to be flaky amateurs and cancel with three days’ notice!”

“It’s a thirty-minute set at a dive in Kenburn,” I said. “Believe me, they aren’t going to hold it against us. We were tacked onto the bill at the last minute, and they can pull us off just as easily.”

Taku shook his head fiercely. “Look, I know you have connections and all, but Xander and I have been playing music together since we were twelve, and for us, it’s kind of a big deal. We want to do it.”

“It isn’t up to
only
you and Xander, though,” I said.

Things were getting tense here in the dungeon. Xander and Taku seemed shocked that I wasn’t taking their side. And Brody seemed plain miserable. Feeling like shit over letting everyone down was something I could relate to all too well. I have to say, it was a relief that Brody was the one bailing instead of me.

“Stage fright is a serious thing,” I said. “Lots of performers have it. Elvis Presley did, Kurt Cobain. Jim Morrison too, I think. It’s rough. So, you know, maybe we shouldn’t be putting pressure on Brody to do something he isn’t ready to do.”

“All right,” Taku said, shrugging. “But all those guys you just mentioned? They had stage fright and still made music their careers. They figured out ways to deal with it.”

I was about to tell him it was more than likely that those ways had been along the lines of what mine and Isaac’s used to be, but the door opened and Rosetta walked in. Unexpected but awesome.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “I just wanted to pop in to say good night.” She gave a quick wave. “So . . . good night!”

Now that I’d seen her, I hated for her to just leave. “I’m on my way out too,” I said to her. “Can you hang on a quick second?”

“I’ll wait outside.”

After she’d gone,
I turned back to the guys. “How about if I ask the eight ball? Magic Eight Ball, should we cancel the show?”

My bad-luck charm came through in a big way:
Signs point to yes.

I turned it so they could see. “That settles it, right? So I’ll see you all later. Brody, don’t feel bad. This isn’t our only chance or anything. If you decide in a few months that you want to play live, I know I can set it up. Let’s just keep rehearsing and writing new songs, and see what happens, okay?”

Xander and Taku were kind of shaking their heads, but Brody smiled for what might have been the first time since Xander had booked the gig. “Thanks a lot, Seth.”

6:56
P.M.

Rosetta was standing in the front yard when I came out. “What was all that about down there?” she asked as I jogged over. “Everyone looked extremely on edge.”

I’d only seen her for those few short seconds in the doorway, but now I had a better look at her sequiny top and skirt. She looked amazing. Lifting her off her feet, I breathed in her flowery shampoo. “All
that
was about the fact that Brody just called off our gig,” I said, spinning her around a couple times before setting her down again.

“Brody did
what
?”

“It’s crazy, huh?” I couldn’t hide how stoked I was. “He told us he’s afraid of performing and doesn’t want to do it.
Xander and Taku were pissed, but
I
supported his decision one hundred percent.”

“Did you happen to mention that you have that same affliction?”

“Nah. I didn’t want to steal his thunder.”

She laughed. “Well, for your sake, I’m glad it worked out. But now I’m sad because I don’t get to wear my ‘I’m With the Bass Player’ T-shirt to your show!”

“You don’t really have that shirt,” I said, half hoping she
did
.

Leaning close, she grinned up at me. “Okay, maybe I don’t. But what if I get one that says ‘Seth Rocks!’? Would that be embarrassing for you?”

“A little, yeah. I’d still think it was awesome, though.” I kissed her forehead. “So why are you all dressed up, anyway?”

“Oh, I’m meeting my aunt and uncle at the club. Our dinner reservation is in”—she glanced at her watch—“less than five minutes, actually. I have to hurry.”

I walked the several blocks there with her, keeping my arm around her the whole time and wishing like hell she’d bail on this dinner thing and hang out with me instead. Of course, that would bring us back to our usual issue of
where
to hang out. Having a girlfriend who wouldn’t ride in cars had a serious downside at times.

The biggest building at the country club—which they called the clubhouse—was all lit up when we got there,
and a few cars were rolling around the circular drive for the dressed-up people coming and going. Rosetta and I stopped outside the main entry doors, and from there I could spot all the chandeliers and fancy furniture in the lobby.

“I wish you could come in,” she said. “But, you know, there’s the whole jacket-and-slacks thing going on tonight. I’m going to talk to my aunt and uncle about inviting you to dinner soon, though, since they want to meet you. Is that okay?”

From the few things I’d heard from Rosetta about her aunt and uncle, I had a feeling they weren’t going to be my biggest fans. But I nodded. She was worth it.

“I have to get in there now. Looks like they might have already been seated,” Rosetta said, sliding her arms around my neck and kissing me gently. “I miss you already.”

“I miss you too.”

This whole “missing” exchange was kind of weird, I guess, since we were pressed against each other at that exact moment. But I got the feeling that what we both meant by it was something much . . . bigger.

7:36
P.M.

I’d been waiting at the signal by the grocery store for what felt like forever when, under the streetlights, I spotted some tall dude with a backpack and a guitar case who was jaywalking and holding things up at the other end of the intersection. With his dark hair and slightly slouching shoulders,
he looked like Daniel. Then he turned. Definitely Daniel.

I would have honked the horn, but it had been broken since long before Jared bought the car. So when it was my turn at the light, I rolled my window down and yelled his name. Then I pulled off to the shoulder and waited while he busted back across traffic to get to me.

He shoved his stuff onto the backseat and climbed in up front. “How’s it going, Dick?”

“What the hell happened to you being on tour?”

“It’s a boring story,” he said. “Let’s just say it involved me, cops, guns, and a meth lab.”

I stared at him. “What the
fuck
?”

“Nah, I’m kidding. It was about me, a couch, some skanky chick, and her jealous boyfriend.”

I shook my head and pulled back onto the road. “Do I want to know how that combination led to you wandering the streets a thousand miles from where you’re supposed to be?”

“
I
don’t even want to know about it, but I can tell you anyway,” he said, reclining the seat a little. “After our set in San Fran on Tuesday night, I was in the green room while the Rat Rodders were onstage. This chick started coming on to me. She was hot, so I went for it, right? Next thing I know, Owen’s coming in, causing a scene. Turns out she’s his girlfriend.”

“You screwed Owen’s girlfriend?”

“Well, I didn’t
know
she was his girlfriend.”

“Isn’t
she the blonde with the huge rack who always wears plastic cherries in her hair?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

I glanced over. Daniel was somehow managing to keep a straight face while trying to bullshit me, and I didn’t feel like letting him get way with it. “How could you not know who she was? She goes to all their shows around here. Plus, you were traveling with them, right?”

“Okay, fine. I had an idea of who she might be,” he said, sighing. “Anyway, Owen went crazy and said he was throwing us off the tour. After a bunch of back-and-forth, Jared got him to let them stay on if I left. Then they sent me home on a Greyhound bus, those bastards.”

“They’re finishing the tour with Jared as the only guitarist? I bet he’s pissed about that.”

Daniel nodded. “Him and that Craig were all up in my shit. And Mikey! Mikey was all, ‘Daniel, why can’t you ever just keep your pecker in your pants?’ He kept bringing up that Isaac and Kendall thing from a year ago, like it had anything to do with what was going on. It was unbelievable.”

I pulled into my driveway and turned off the engine. To me, the unbelievable part of all this was that Daniel wanted to blame everyone else and couldn’t see how he was the one at fault here. “You do kind of have a habit of getting with other guys’ girlfriends,” I said.

He gave me a hard look. “I’ve been stuck on a bus for
over twenty hours. You really don’t want to start in on me right now.”

“Well, I can see why they get pissed when you—”

“Think about it,” he interrupted. “How is it
my
problem if some chick with a boyfriend hooks up with me? Is it supposed to be my job to keep everyone else’s relationships happy?”

“I guess not. But Isaac was your friend.”

“No, Dick. Isaac was
your
friend. I just happened to be in a band with him. Besides, he treated Kendall like shit.”

I stared at him, not knowing what to say to that.

Without another word, he jumped out of the car and lit up a smoke. The porch light and the shadows were falling on his face under my carport in such a way that he appeared to have a matching set of bruises under his eyes, and you’d have thought his life depended on that cigarette with how long and deep his drags were. He looked like hell, actually, and even though getting kicked off the tour was his own fault, I felt kind of sorry for him.

7:36
A.M.

The next morning. The very second Taku and I stepped out of the tutoring lab, Xander came over wearing a huge grin. Somehow, I knew I wasn’t going to love whatever he was about to say.

“We’re back on!” he said, walking with us. “After you guys left last night, I was able to convince Brody to play the gig.”

Now Taku had a matching grin, but I was pissed. Since leaving rehearsal, I’d been calm and relieved. I’d even gotten a full night of sleep. Xander’s announcement put me right back in that stressed state I’d been in.

I stopped at the drinking fountain, held down the button, and brought my lips to the icy-cold water. Then I started gulping. And gulping. And gulping.

Xander and Taku kept their conversation going while waiting for me. “How’d you manage to change Brody’s mind?” Taku asked.

“We talked for a while,” Xander said. “I was there for hours. That thing Seth said about Elvis and Kurt Cobain helped a lot, actually. You know, since those guys had stage fright and went on to become megastars. Then we got online and did some reading up on the subject. There’s so much information out there. Tons of theories and strategies. We learned that one of the guys in the Dave Matthews Band wore sunglasses for every gig to keep his stage fright under control.”

“And that worked, huh?” Taku asked.

“Sure did,” Xander said. “I told Brody he can try whatever he wants. Sunglasses might help. Or, if he wants to play with his back to the crowd, that could work too. I know we’ve been talking about cool stage presence and connecting with the crowd, but it seems more important right now for Brody to just get up there and do it than to worry about that. Don’t you guys agree?”

I glanced up to see Taku nodding. “Yeah, totally,” he said.

I went back to drinking instead of adding to the discussion. My stomach was getting that too-f-of-liquid feeling, but I couldn’t stop.

“One of the things I read last night, in particular, made a lot of sense to me,” Xander said. “Stage fright doesn’t exist.”

That gave me the push to step away from the drinking
fountain. Shaking my head, I spoke for the first time since he’d shown up. “I’m sure anyone who has it can set you straight in a big hurry.”

“Well, the fear is real, of course,” Xander said. “But the article said people aren’t afraid of actual stages. They’re afraid of other people. They’re afraid of being judged. So I think if Brody can try to understand that, he’ll be less nervous about performing.”

I wasn’t convinced. “How would understanding that help?”

Xander answered, “Because if he can isolate what he’s worrying about, he might be able to figure out how to deal. Right now he’s obsessing over how he doesn’t think he can play
onstage
. That isn’t what it’s about, though.”

“Right,” Taku said. “It seems like he’s worried that people will think he isn’t good enough or that he doesn’t deserve to be up there. He just needs to figure out how to work past that.”

They were talking like it was so easy. Like following the advice of some stupid article could change everything.