Chapter Six
Pressley
I woke before the alarm to the phone ringing, surprised to see his name across the screen. “Wolf? Everything okay?”
“Oh, um, yeah. Sorry, didn’t pay attention to the time. Was just wondering if you needed an extra set of hands moving the boys today?”
It took a minute for his words to sink in with my brain still on the groggy side. “The boys? Oh, you mean Bowie and Tony.”
“Yeah.”
“You bored?”
“Something like that.”
It was too early for this. My brain wasn’t functioning and was in dire need of gallons of coffee before I even attempted to decipher his cryptic responses. “Sure. I’m in Bothell, aren’t you south?”
“Tacoma.”
“Text me your address, and I’ll pick you up on the way.”
“Thanks, see ya soon.”
Had I made a new friend? If so, that’s great given how closely Wolf and I will be working together. This would surely make the roundtrip drive less daunting. I bet Wolf has some great stories to share. Most roadies did, though Wolf was far more than that to Masterson.
After a quick shower, I filled a travel mug with the elixir of life, then fired off a text to Wolf and Bowie to let them know I was on the way.
This early on a Saturday morning it wasn’t too bad of a drive to get to Tacoma. Thank the travel gods for small miracles.
“Morning, Wolf.” He hopped in the truck, mug of coffee in hand. I held mine up. “Cheers, my friend!”
“Right back at cha. Thanks for letting me tag along. Figured an extra set of hands wouldn’t hurt.”
“Not at all. Nice to have company for the ride too.” Three hours there, time to load, and three hours back will make for one long-ass day. “Let’s roll.”
“I remember when local radio stations were all the rage,” Wolf began as we merged onto I-5. “It’s all about satellite now and how many hits the song gets.”
“Very true. In the day and age of electronics, everything is measurable. Octane is my go-to.” Which just happened to be the current station of choice. “I can’t wait to hear Imminent Dangers’ first song played here.”
“Those boys may take a bit of training. Gotta admit, I’m proud of Joey and Stoli stepping up to the plate as they have.
They helped Josh out even after we had to keep them from killing each other,” Wolf sighed.
“Long history there, but Josh is getting help with his demons, and the previously feuding rock stars are now friends.”
Masterson had such a deep history for me to learn. “They seem like pretty solid guys.”
“Everyone’s got baggage, everyone’s got demons. It’s how you handle them that will make or break you.”
“No truer words have ever been spoken, my friend.” It wasn’t his place to share their personal backgrounds, as they weren’t his stories to tell, and I wasn’t about to put him in an awkward position by asking. But as far as band antics went, I’m sure over the coming days I’d get an earful.
“So, from IT to music. What had you jumping genres?” Wolf asked.
“Honestly, IT got boring for me. Meetings, group projects, others leaving the tasks to the rest of the team and hogging the accolades. I wanted something I could put my stamp on, nurture, and watch grow. Starting a new band with one of the most widely known industry management companies,” I sighed, “It was a no-brainer for me. I’m still pinching myself over being chosen for the position. ”
“Never for a second had I thought about changing companies. Spent my entire career with Sal first and now Easton. Zero regrets.” Wolf tapped away on the side of his cup. His fingers drumming out the beat to Volbeat’s Doc Holliday.
We chatted off and on during the drive, the music filled the void, though not uncomfortably, as we sang along to familiar songs.
Wolf had a deep, gruff voice. The kind you knew could launch a wicked growl.
When we pulled up in front of Bowie and Tony’s building, they both jogged out to meet us, smiling wide.
“Morning, you guys ready to load?” I’d cleaned out the spare rooms at my house and put fresh linens on the beds.
They’d both likely be worn out tonight, and I wanted to make sure they got a good night’s rest. I wasn’t sure what all Joey and Stoli had planned at their house tomorrow, but if they pulled the boys into a jam session, it could prove to be a late night.
Caretaker much?
Ha, just don’t tell my mother she was right.
“Yeah,” Bowie said. “We got as much into Tony’s car as we could. The rest will easily fit in your truck. Thanks again for helping us.”
“No problem. Alright, let’s get to it.” We followed the boys inside. Wolf headed up to the third floor with Tony while I helped Bowie on the second. “Not much here. Are you sure this is it?” A handful of boxes, half a dozen guitars, and a very well-boxed cactus.
“Yeah, I moved out here straight out of high school, didn’t even go to my graduation, just jumped in a van with some friends of mine, and off we went, chasing the dream, ya know. Clearly, we didn’t make it, or I wouldn’t be here now, but we got close once.”
“Are you guys still tight?”
“Naa.”
He left it at that, though the gruff snort he let out suggested a hint of bitterness there. I’d imagine that’s a story for another time.
“Can we put the guitars in your backseat? Just in case?”
“Of course.” Bowie and I loaded up the cases, one more worn than the others. “I take it this one is your favorite?”
He smiled. “Yeah, that’s my old girl. She’s been to every gig with me.
” I’ve heard stories over the years, probably more hearsay than anything.
But some musicians were a bit superstitious and always traveled with a treasured piece of equipment even if they didn’t use it onstage.
It was more of a good luck charm than anything.
I wonder if anyone has ever compiled such a list?
Bet it would top the literary charts and become a bestseller.
By the time we finished, both vehicles were packed and ready to hit the road.
“Gentlemen, shall we?” Before Bowie could hop in with Tony, Wolf claimed the passenger seat in his car. Tony shrugged, waved, and slid into the driver’s seat. “Guess you and your cactus are with me.”
Carefully, Bowie buckled his cactus in the seat between us and safely secured it in place.
“I take it this cactus is important to you?” Can’t say I’d ever seen another human take such care of a plant.
“More than you know. Me and Percilla have been through a lot together,” Bowie said, and left it at that as he buckled himself in. “So, what’s the plan?”
“Well,” I merged back onto I-5, “food, unload, settle in. All the usual moving things.”
“Ha,” he actually smiled. “I mean band-wise.”
“Gotcha. I figured we’d hash that out at Stoli’s tomorrow. Hopefully this week we’ll have our bassist and drummer. You said you have a few songs written already?”
“A few hundred’s more like it.” Bowie patted the backpack at his feet. “Been writing for years. Not sure they’re any good, but,” he shrugged, “we’ll see what the rest of the band thinks.”
“From what I understand and from the one I heard you play, they’re more than worthy.
Your performances resonated enough with Wolf that he’d already had you in mind by the time we got there for the final round.
” Mentioned a possible attitude problem, but I had a feeling that had phased itself out.
Pride in self can go a long way, and with Tony in the group, I’m sure being together gave them the boost they’d both need.
“Were all three songs you played yours?”
“Yup.”
“Then I’d say we’re good to go once we hit the studio.
Use the first few practice sessions with existing songs so the four of you can get a feel for how each other plays, and then launch into writing the music—collaboratively, to songs the four of you have.
Asking each person to submit a couple of their own to the group will help build comradery. ”
“Yeah, that’s fair and totally makes sense. I know Tony has notebooks filled too. Most musicians do.”
“That will likely be what Joey and Stoli suggest.” I’d mention to them ahead of time what Bowie and I had talked about and let them get a feel from there. They were the experts, after all. “They might be a great resource for putting the lyrics to music as well.”
“I just can’t believe this is my life. I mean, I was raised in a musical family. My mother is a professional concert pianist, and my dad and uncle have a classic rock band. My brothers are in the industry too, but I’m the first one to sign with a big management company.”
“Wow, lots of talent under one roof.”
“And lots of support. I’ve been lucky in that respect. My dad and uncle taught us all to play from a young age. Still, man, I can’t believe this is my life. It’s like a total holy shit moment playing on repeat.”
I was right there with him. The more people I talked to, the more excited I got for the coming days.
“What’s Tony’s musical background? I understand he actually tried out as a guitarist.”
“He’s not too bad, but I have a feeling this tryout was all about getting me out of my own way.” Interesting way of putting it.
“So, you didn’t want to try out?”
“Honestly,” he shrugged, “I’m my own worst enemy, and Tony knows that.
He’s my best friend, and we’ve always been there for each other even when the other didn’t realize they needed help.
His home life is shit, so my parents basically adopted him.
Talk about an asshole father. Tony got that and more. ”
Not touching that one. If Tony wants to share it, that’s up to him.
“Hey, what do you think about stage make-up? Not heavy like a clown but more like, I don’t know, gothic kinda, but designing our own brand type of deal.”
“Personally, not a fan. It’s heavy and hot, and why hide your face?” Bowie turned away and stared out the window, reaffirming my guess. He was hiding something. “Why?”
“No reason.”
“If you’ve got a legit reason, I’d be willing to listen and consider it.” Push, but don’t push, Pressley.
“Nah, it was stupid.”
“The only stupid ideas are the ones we never voice.”