23. Naz #2
“That is so impressive,” my grandmother says. And I think she’s actually being genuine. “You know, you are all such smart boys, and you have so many skills. If you decide to step away from music…”
There it is.
“Grandmother,” I say imploringly, but kindly. I don’t want to start anything.
“Your grandmother has a point, son. I understand you all like playing music and doing your little band thing. You’re a big deal, and you’ve made a lot of money, but maybe it’s time to settle down. Surely all of this isn’t worth being a target.”
“If we’re not the target, then who is?” Ari asks gently.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“They’re targets for a reason, Mr. Lester,” Luc says, coming back into the room with Simon behind him. Simon leads him to a chair that already has a basket of medical supplies waiting. I need to make sure he gets a big bonus, so he’s compensated for his extra work and kindness.
“They’re targets because they’re making a difference.
Because they’ve been speaking out against the things happening in our country right now.
The violence and propaganda against immigrants, ICE raids, and secret masked police killing people in the streets, the genocide against transgender people, the uprising of white Christian nationalism. ”
“To be fair, we don’t know for sure that the political attacks and what’s happened recently with the bomb threat and drones are connected,” I point out. Luc is making us out to be martyrs or something, and I don’t feel like we need to lay it on this thick.
My grandparents look at each other, brows furrowed, then back at me.
“We thought you were just out there playing your rock n’ roll music and doing drugs and whatnot.”
“We don’t do drugs anymore,” Jesse points out. “And really, I’m the only one that had a problem. Naz never touched the stuff.”
I shrug. Weed is legal in a lot of places now, so I guess that doesn’t really count. Anything more than that was scary. I saw what it was doing to my best friend, and I don’t like the idea of not being in control of my faculties.
“We are playing our rock n’ roll music, though.” Will grins. “You got that part right. And the whatnot. There’s definitely been some of that.”
I roll my eyes.
“It’s because of the music that we have a platform. A big one, at that. We feel like it’s our responsibility to put some good out into the world when things are going so badly. If we can make a difference, why wouldn’t we?” Ari says.
“Is it actually making a difference, though?” My grandmother asks. “Because it sounds like you’re just putting yourselves in danger.”
“Mrs. Lester, I’m just curious. Do you have any idea just how famous your grandson and his band are?” Simon asks.
“We know he’s done well for himself as a musician. We recognize that,” my grandfather answers for her, sounding a little miffed at Simon’s insinuation that he doesn’t know his grandson is successful.
“In less than six years since they had their first breakout hit, Lest Is Moore has become a worldwide phenomenon. Their concert tours sell out within hours, and their fan base rivals Beatlemania. They aren’t just doing well, they’re well on their way to becoming music icons.”
Simon notices us all staring at him and blushes.
“I’ve obviously heard of you all and listened to your music before.
It’s kind of hard not to, you’re everywhere.
Personally, I’ve always been more of a 90s to early 2000s pop kind of guy, but when I got hired for this job, I thought it best to do some research.
I had no idea just how influential you are.
” He turns to face my grandparents. “You should know how impressive your grandson is. And all of that aside, the charity work and fundraising alone is enough to make me a fan for life, so there’s that, too.
” Face red, he turns back to his work of re-wrapping Luc’s calf.
Grandmother perks up. “Charity work, you say?”
“They’ve donated millions of dollars to mutual aid funds, charity organizations, and outreach programs for the BIPOC and LGBTQ+ communities,” Luc says matter-of-factly, smiling down at Simon like they’re personally responsible for educating my grandparents and turning them into fans.
“They also donate all of their ticket proceeds to shelters in the cities they play in. And they regularly volunteer at soup kitchens and clean-up projects.”
“I didn’t read that,” Simon says, sounding awed in a way that’s kind of embarrassing.
“Because they don’t do it for the clout. They don’t advertise most of their charity work, actually, only the big public fundraisers.”
“We haven’t gotten to do the in-person stuff in a while,” Ari says, frowning.
“Because some asshole always ends up tipping off the press,” Will grumbles.
As one, Ari, Jesse, Luc, and I all turn to stare at Will.
“Really?” Ari says.
Will shrugs and has the decency to look a little sheepish.
“The point is, Mr. and Mrs. Lester,” Luc says.
“That they’re more than just a band, they’re cultural icons.
They’ve encouraged other famous people with platforms to speak out against injustices, they’ve made huge progress with voter registration and education, and they’re actually making a difference. That’s why they’re a target.”
“Again, the bomb thing might not be related,” I say, waving my hands to remind Luc and Simon that we are here. It feels weird that they’re talking about us like some kind of superfans.
“Why didn’t we know any of this?” My grandmother asks.
“It’s alright,” I tell her. “They’re exaggerating anyway.”
Simon and Luc murmur to each other about how I’m full of shit. Jesse throws a wadded-up piece of newspaper at Luc and draws a stern look, effectively distracting him from continuing the conversation.
“Mr. Lester, would you like to try for a short walk now that it’s cooled down some outside? We still have enough light to do a loop around the driveway,” Simon says, standing from where he was working on Luc’s leg.
“Are you going to make me use the walker?” My grandfather grumbles.
“It’s better than having to drag that tank with you,” Simon points out. “Since it’s got that neat little holder for it.”
“Well, I suppose.”
The rest of the group disperses as though we’ve been dismissed. Jesse follows Luc, and Will and Ari go out on the back patio to light the firepit. I notice our three security guards are out there, too, standing in a huddle off to the side, looking serious.
I sigh, wondering what Scott is doing right now. He should have made it to the condo already, and considering all he was doing there was beating on my door and making a ruckus for attention, he should be headed this way soon.
“Nazario?”