Chapter Ten
Pressley
Diamond didn’t fuck around, nor did anyone argue with his chosen method of handling the auditions.
Mentally I reminded myself to never piss him off.
It was both a blessing and a curse how he’d handled the auditions.
None except for the final five had played long enough to have my head throbbing, and thankfully these last ones were really good.
But the moment he chose Claude, Bowie, Tony, and Tibby’s faces fell.
They saw the attitude and cockiness that guy brought to the table, and they weren’t pleased about it.
Truth be told, neither was I, but it was time to man up and do my job.
“Claude, I’m your band manager, Pressley. This is your lead guitarist Bowie,” he gave a slight wave, “singer Tony and bassist Tibby.” They exchanged pleasantries and immediately shut up when Diamond came over.
“Claude, Shadow and I will be working with you.” It appeared for a second like he was going to protest, but Diamond’s no-nonsense face made him think twice.
“I don’t care how good you are; that bullshit you pulled earlier won’t be tolerated.
This is a new band, and so far these guys have vibed.
You’d do well to follow suit.” Diamond held his hand out for the clipboards, and the three of them silently handed them over.
“Just as I thought, not one of them picked you, so you’ve got your work cut out for you to prove them wrong. Slade, I’ll be in touch.”
Slade smiled and waved as he headed for the door. “Excellent. Good day, all. Nice meeting you.”
“You fuck up, and Slade will replace you.”
There was no mistaking nor misconstruing Diamond’s words. I was glad to see he was keeping in contact with Slade. He was a damn fine drummer and one to definitely have under our wing, whether as a backup or future new band member.
“Let’s go over your contract,” Wolf called out to Claude from the office door.
As soon as the door was shut, Diamond addressed the boys.
“Give him a fair shot. I know we already saw a touch of cockiness, but I’m sure there’s more where that came from.
Pressley, I want to know everything. Trust me, Shadow and I will shut that shit down if we see it again.
Good luck, and I can’t wait to hear you guys play.
” And with that, he left. Diamond was a man of few words; he got straight to the point, and then he was done.
Bowie groaned as soon as he left. “Not liking this at all, he reminds me of…”
“You?” Tony finished for him. “You’ve changed, but at least now you’re seeing what we once saw. It’s one thing to be unquestionably talented and another to be a complete and total jackass. Hopefully Diamond knocked him down a couple pegs so he’ll chill.”
“Well, let’s keep an open mind and give him a chance. I’ll be at all the band practices, and we’ll have him and Tibby out to the house too. Tibby, are you local?”
“I am. Born and raised Seattleite.” One less to find housing for, thankfully, since all I had left was a couch. While we waited for Claude, I made dinner arrangements. Not long after, he and Wolf joined us.
“Well, looks like y’all are done with me for now,” Wolf said, and Tony’s face fell, though he quickly recovered. “I’ll clean up and head out.”
“Wolf, you’re part of the team, and this is a team dinner.” I wasn’t about to let him feel like he was nothing more than hired help. We depended on him, and the bond he was forming with Tony had me seeing what I wished to have with Bowie as a possibility.
Gotta start with a conversation first, Pressley.
What my brain knew, my mouth failed to convey.
“Dinner?” Claude asked.
“Yes, we had a welcome to the Masterson team dinner after each contract was signed. Are you local, or do we need to get you a hotel room for the night?”
“I’m local. Moved here from the east coast a few months ago.”
“Excellent. That will make band practices and meetings much easier to schedule.” Not to mention keep my couch free. “Gentlemen, after you.”
“So, how do you guys feel about this whole mentoring program?” Claude threw out after we placed our orders.
“I think it’s great,” Tony said. “I’m excited to work with Joey.”
“Same,” Bowie and Tibby said at the same time.
“There’s always room for improvement,” Wolf added. “And being mentored by the guys from Social is top-notch.”
“Hell, I know a ton of guys who’d give anything to live that dream,” Bowie said. “In fact, I’m one of them. Stoli’s been awesome so far.”
“Yeah, but Diamond?” Claude groaned. “I get the feeling the guy hates me already.”
“He wouldn’t have picked you if he felt that way,” Wolf said. “Knock that Texas-sized chip off your shoulder and listen to what he and Shadow tell you, and you’ll go far. No doubt, all four of you are talented, but you’ll be the ones standing in your own way.”
Thank you, Wolf, for that. My first reaction was to slap Claude upside the head and recite Cher’s infamous line from Moonstruck, Snap out of it!
But with the added ending of you spoiled brat.
Masterson just dropped the biggest break in these guys’ laps, and to overlook that gift would be a grave mistake.
“Masterson can make or break you in this industry. They’re not known for being anything but fair.
They’ve given you four a chance to start at the top.
No one, and I do mean no one, gets that opportunity, so choose your battles wisely.
” Huh, guess I had the right words without slapping anyone after all.
Bummer…
“I’m stoked.” Tibby’s smile hadn’t left his face. “Mickey is my idol, and to hone my talent under his training is the bomb.”
Bowie leaned forward and stared Claude in the eye.
My heart raced, fearing what he was about to say.
“In case you didn’t read the fine print, there is an out clause in your contract.
If you don’t make them happy, they will cut you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. So, are you in or are you out, Claude?”
I swear, the room was dead silent, and the intense staredown taking place left those around them holding their breaths, myself included.
Claude leaned forward, meeting Bowie’s pose. “I’m in.”
It was like the waitstaff felt the tension and paused at the door until it dissipated.
As soon as Claude spoke, the door opened and in they came with our meals.
I was ridiculously proud of Bowie for the way he handled that.
Watching him the other night through the window as he worked fireside, diligently writing away in his notebook, spoke to me. To my heart, in particular.
Food was gone and the evening was nearing an end, and it was time to spin the conversation back around to business. “Let’s hit the practice studio on Monday, meet us there at nine, Claude, and then we can get your security clearance handled.”
“Don’t forget to bring your list of five songs for us to start off playing together and five original songs you’ve written as well,” Bowie reminded him.
“This is perfect timing. I just got laid off from the docks. Lack of shipping containers to unload means a lack of jobs for the rest of us. Let’s start a group text chat, and you guys put the songs you thought of for us to kick it off with in there, and I’ll add mine if they’re different.
Hopefully they’re ones we’ve all played already.
” The four of them passed their phones around while I signed the bill.
When we got home, the three of us went our separate ways without a word.
It had been a long day, it would’ve been even longer had the auditions gone as the others had.
I sent Diamond and Easton an email, updating them on how the night went.
Based upon Easton’s reply to keep him appraised of the Claude situation, I knew Diamond had filled him in on what had transpired during his audition.
But Bowie tackled that head-on, and I couldn’t be prouder of him for it.
Then why don’t you tell him that?
Guess I had my opening. Now, to find him.
Outside by the fire, acoustic in hand, of course. He’d strike a few notes, jot them down, and then do it again. I could literally stand here all night and watch him, but it was time to break the seal and see if I had a chance. Better to find out now before my heart gets involved.
“Hey, that sounded pretty good. Mind if I join you?”
He grinned. “It was only a couple of notes, can’t classify that as good.” Bowie gestured to the seat beside him. “It’s your house, you don’t need to ask.”
“Yes, I do. This has become your private wonderland, and I don’t want to intrude.”
“Stalker much?” No malice in his words, only a smile as he set his guitar aside.
“Maybe a little.” My response was met with uneasy silence. “The way you handled Claude at dinner was perfect. I think challenging him to be his best and not make waves is the way to go.”
“Yeah, I, um, saw too much of my old self in him. The me before the accident.” Bowie nervously wiped his hands on his jeans. Was he about to open up to me? “Nothing like getting bitch slapped by life and being put in your place.”
“It has a way of doing that for sure. Can’t say I didn’t have some karmic blows over the years. Lessons learned are the pathway to growth.” Great, now I sound like my father. He’ll get a kick out of that when I tell him.
“Truth.” Bowie stared off, I’m sure lost in memories. “It was a guy having a heart attack. I was cruising along on my motorcycle when he hit me. Didn’t see him coming. I flew off the bike and through a storefront plate glass window. Only injuries I got were from the glass.”
“Oh my God.”
“Yeah, before I was even out of the hospital, my band replaced me. One guy came to see me and tell me, barely stayed at the hospital long enough to get the words out before he bailed.”
“They didn’t deserve you.” Whether those were the right words to say or not, they were out.
“Now I’m a hideous mess of scars who hides from the world behind his hair and clothes.”
“You are not a mess.”
He shrugged. “You saw the scars. They’re fucking ugly.”
“Bowie, the scars don’t define you. Sure, they’re a part of you, but it’s the choices in life you make that will define you.
I meant it when I said you’re beautiful because to me, you are.
” He turned away, but that wasn’t how I wanted this to go.
I knelt in front of him and gently tucked the hair that hid his scars back behind his ear and cupped that side of his face.
At first he flinched, then he relented and leaned into my touch.
“Bowie, I don’t know what’s going on or if you’re even interested in me. But you’re all I think about.”
“Why me? I’m a fucking mess?”
“I wish you could see the man that I do. You’re so much more than your scars, and though stage make-up may hide them,” one side of his mouth curled up, “yeah, that suggestion wasn’t lost on me, but it’s not necessary.
Don’t hide who you are, embrace it. Draw strength from it and continue on the path you’re going down.
Become the best man you can be, and who knows, maybe someday your ability to not hide your scars may help another in a similar mindset find their inner peace. ”
Before I was able to make a move, Bowie’s lips were on mine. A bit forceful, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. The emotions hit him hard, and his reaction surprised both of us. When I nearly fell back from the force of it, he took that as me pulling away.
“S-sorry, but I thought…”
I’d not give him the chance to second-guess my thoughts about this, it was right and everything I’d wished for before coming out here tonight.
I pressed my lips to his again. The entire time, my hand remained on his cheek, my thumb softly tracing the scars as my tongue gently nudged his lips until he let me in.
Time stood still while our tongues danced, though all too soon, it ended as our lungs fought for air.
“You thought right.” In a brazen move, I pressed my lips to each of the scars on his face and down his neck, not allowing him a second to protest. “You’re beautiful, and I’ll not hear otherwise.
No more putting yourself down and no more hiding from me.
Understood?” A gentle unsure nod was all I received, and for now, that was fine.
“Why don’t you show me what you were working on before I interrupted you? ”
That had the desired effect I’d hoped for, and the smile returned to his handsome face as he picked up his guitar.
“It’s still rough, but I’ve had the lyrics down for a while now.
” His fingers easily slid over the strings as the melody filled the night air.
I returned to my seat beside his, head lulled back as I absorbed the kiss, our talk, and his soft song.
Not a cloud to be seen, the moonlight lit the sky while the firepit flames cast an ethereal glow over Bowie as he played.
So alluring, so angelic.
The image before me was where heartfelt poems were born from, and hell, lyrics too, for that matter.
How many artists wrote of such life-altering moments?
Every. Single. One. Of. Them. Times when the feels hit them right in the gut.
I couldn’t recall ever experiencing a more perfect night.
No expensive date or fancy trinkets given with false hopes behind them.
Real. This was so freaking real. Just me, the man winding his way around my heart, a guitar, and, quite blessedly, perfect weather.
I wasn’t foolish enough to believe the future held all fun and games for us, but at least it appeared I may have a shot at sharing it with Bowie.
Fucking hell, how my heart hoped for that.