Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Chase
The band and I have been rehearsing for thirty minutes when Bayleigh finally arrives. Her cheeks are rosy, and I wonder if she took the stairs instead of the elevator. However, a glance at her light blue boots with high heels confirms that likely wasn’t the case.
“Hi y’all.” She smiles at her bandmates as she strides over to center stage where her mic is waiting in its stand. She takes it in her hand and turns to face me. “Thanks for doing this. We were in a bit of a bind.”
“No worries,” I reply, then look to Cassie, the brunette, twenty-something drummer who has taken over as the bandleader since the departure of their guitar player. “Cassie has brought me up to speed with the set list.”
“Alright, let’s start from the beginning.
” Bayleigh looks around at the rest of the band members.
Along with me on acoustic guitar, there is Luke, the bass player, Andy, the electric guitar player, and another woman on keyboard and backing vocals.
I am impressed by the talent on stage, but also a bit nervous about my own abilities.
These are professional musicians with years of experience and I am such a novice in comparison.
Cassie counts us in and I glance at the sheet music on the floor in front of me, although I don’t really need it.
I strum a few chords before Bayleigh stops us.
“No, no, no. It’s too slow. Let’s speed it up a bit.”
The band follows her direction, but she still doesn’t seem satisfied after a few more attempts. By the fourth try, I drop my hands from my guitar and let it hang by its shoulder strap. Seriously? What is she hearing? We are playing exactly as she has requested.
Feeling a mix of frustration and resignation, I tighten my grip on the guitar strap as Bayleigh, once again, signals for us to stop mid-song.
The tension in the room is palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and mounting irritation.
I exchange glances with the other band members; their faces mirror my own exasperation.
Cassie, who I’ve gathered is the mediator, steps down from her drum kit and strides over to Bayleigh.
Their conversation is hushed, but the animated gestures and furrowed brows speak volumes.
I can’t help but feel a pang of annoyance as I watch them.
This was supposed to be a simple rehearsal, but it has turned into a critique session.
I approach Andy, the electric guitar player, my steps heavy with the weight of my growing discontent. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?” I ask, my tone betraying my weariness.
Andy shrugs his shoulders, his expression one of resigned amusement. “She can be a bit of a diva. Especially with this show being so important. We just have to be patient and do what she says. But hey, I’m getting paid by the hour, so it’s fine by me.”
Cassie breaks away from Bayleigh and gives me a thumbs-up when Bayleigh isn’t looking. I give her a questioning look, but she shakes her head slightly in response.
During the next run-through, we manage to play more than half the song before Bayleigh stops us. But after three hours, I am exhausted and my fingers are throbbing. My patience is wearing thin.
Bayleigh turns to me with an accusatory stare and yells, “It’s G, not C. Why can’t you play it right?”
Everyone falls silent.
I look at my sheet music to confirm that I was playing the correct chord.
A wave of indignation surges through me as I look back at her.
Enough is enough. I take my guitar off my shoulder, my hands trembling with frustration, and give her a stern look.
“I told them from the start that I wasn’t the right person for this.
I said I would give it a shot, and I did.
Now, I quit.” With that, I spin on my heel, grab my things, and start walking down the aisle towards the exit, my steps echoing my resolve.
“Wait, Chase.” Kelly catches up to me as I reach the exit. “Please stay. She’s just in a mood. I’ll talk to her.”
I look over her shoulder to see Bayleigh talking to Andy and Luke, and doesn’t seem all that worried about my exit. Probably happy that she won’t have to deal with me anymore.
“No thanks. Nothing is worth putting up with that kind of treatment,” I say firmly before pushing through the door, down the hall, and out of the building.
I find my car and sit in the driver’s seat.
I take a moment to catch my breath. Did I really just walk out of there?
I always knew show business could be tough.
Maybe if this had happened earlier in my career, I would have had more patience for it.
But not anymore. I am done being taken for granted.
If Bayleigh wants a new guitar player, she can find someone else. It certainly won’t be me anymore.