“Yeah, well you didn’t honestly think being a rock star was a long-term career goal, did you?” Sophie laughed and I looked at her in surprise, shocked and a little hurt by her dismissal.
“No, we didn’t think that, but it’s something we’ve always loved doing. And how many people can say they make money doing something they’re passionate about?” I threw back, feeling myself get defensive.
Sophie shrugged, looking back at the menu. “Well you’re not exactly making a whole lot of money anymore, are you?”
“Ouch. Tell me how you really feel, why don’t you,” I snapped.
What the fuck was this?
Sophie laughed again and shook her head. “Don’t get so bent, Mitch. It’s just an observation. You’ve got to be sick of being on the road all the time. Maybe you should think of something else to do with your life since pretending to be The Rolling Stones isn’t really working out.”
“If being on the road sucks so much, you could always go home. I’m not keeping you here,” I told her.
Were we having a fight?
We never fought.
Sophie was quiet and agreeable most of the time, so I didn’t know where all this shit was coming from. Had she always felt like this?
The realization that she didn’t have any faith in my music was a shock even though she had never taken much of an interest in the band. I just assumed it wasn’t her type of music, which was fair enough. I still thought she respected what we were doing and what we had accomplished.
Sophie had been on the road with us for the past month. I had been a little surprised when she had mentioned wanting to come along for the last leg of our east coast tour, but I had been happy to have her along. Maysie was always with Jordan and Riley and Viv spent a lot of time with Garrett and Cole so it would be nice to have someone there for me.
But Sophie had never really gelled with the rest of the group. I knew she felt it. I felt it. The guys probably felt it too. So maybe that’s where all this was coming from.
“Why are you getting so mad?” Sophie asked, looking confused.
“I’m not mad,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Are you two ready to order?” the waitress asked, appearing out of nowhere. I was glad for the interruption though. Because my sweet, unassuming girlfriend had majorly pissed me off.
When we were finished giving our orders Sophie put the menu back and looked at me. “Do you want me to go home?” she asked sharply.
“I didn’t say that,” I muttered.
Why was I getting so annoyed with her?
Sophie was safe.
Sophie was constant.
She didn’t have issues or demons.
Sophie wasn’t complicated.
And I needed that right now.
“You didn’t order me anything? There goes your hand job later.” Cole body checked me as he slid into the booth beside me.
Sophie gave him a tense smile. “Hi, Cole.”
“Hey, Tits McGee,” he greeted, using a nickname he had given her after walking in on her in the bathroom as she was getting out of the shower.
“I’ll give her one thing, she’s got a nice rack,” Cole had said with a leer, closing the door as she screamed.
No matter how many times I tried to get him to stop using it, the nickname had stuck. I had a feeling Cole continued to use it because he knew how much it annoyed me and Sophie. He was a dick like that.
“Please don’t call me that,” Sophie huffed. Cole of course ignored her.
“Move over, Tits. Jordan and Garrett will be here in a sec. They’re in the head.” Sophie looked slightly murderous, but she moved over.
“Why do you eat this shit?” Cole complained as the waitress brought my and Sophie’s food. He picked up my veggie burger and made a face.
“Because I like the thought of not having a heart attack when I’m forty,” I replied.
“You’re so not rock and roll, dude. It’s amazing that you get any tang,” Cole said.
Sophie tensed even further and I knew that Cole’s antics made her uncomfortable. She had never gotten used to it.
Jordan and Garrett joined us a few minutes later. Garrett sat beside Sophie and Jordan pulled up a chair at the end of the table. Garrett gave Sophie a smile, which she returned but neither said anything to each other.
I realized that I couldn’t remember the last time Sophie had a conversation with any of my friends. She was always there, by my side, but she never attempted to join in any way. She always declined when Garrett asked if she wanted to play the X-box. She continuously turned down Maysie’s invitations to go to the store to pick up supplies for the bus.
“So I just got off the phone with Neal. He’s coming back tomorrow to talk to us about our options,” Jordan said, grabbing a menu.
Neal Thomas was our new manager. The guys in Cuban Cadillac had recommended him to us. He was known for being a straight shooter. And we needed someone with a low level of bullshit after the Jose Suarez fiasco. Our former manager had been one of the best in the business. He had made his reputation on catapulting bands into superstardom. He had also almost convinced Cole to ditch us and go out on his own and start a solo career. Jose had been a snake and in the end Cole had fired him. We hired Neal shortly after that and we had been convinced that we’d prove Jose wrong when he said we’d never go anywhere.
Things had been good. Really good. We were on our way to the big times. We were selling out venues. Our album was kicking ass. Our single was all over the radio.
We were making real, honest to god money. We were being touted as the next big thing in hard rock.
We had been a bunch of starry-eyed idiots.
We were now learning that the quicker you rose, the faster you fell.
“Options, huh? That sounds bleak,” Cole grumbled before stuffing his face with fries.
“Yeah, well we need to figure something out. Pirate isn’t happy,” Garrett added, crossing his arms on the table.
“None of us are,” I muttered under my breath.
Nobody said anything because I was right. Music had stopped being fun and was now more of a chore. I felt it every time I plugged in my bass. I felt it with every chord and every lyric. It wasn’t the same thrill we had felt back when we were just a bunch of guys jamming at Garrett’s house.
And that sucked.
Because even though I had just been angry with Sophie’s suggestion that I start thinking of doing something else, she was probably right. And that pissed me off even more. I had been holding onto this dream for so long I wasn’t sure what do when I finally had to let it go.
Great. Now I was depressed.
“Hey, do you remember that first gig at Barton’s? Jordan broke one of his sticks and Cole almost fell off the stage,” Garrett said suddenly.
I laughed. “Well he was too busy trying to look down that chick’s shirt.” I patted a smirking Cole’s shoulder.
“She had a nice rack. Not as nice as Tits McGee here, but decent enough,” he remarked, smirking at Sophie who turned three shades of red.
“Dude, seriously,” I warned.
“You need to learn to ignore him like the rest of us do,” Garrett told Sophie.
She pinched her lips together and did not look amused. I gave her foot a kick under the table and she gave me a tight smile.
“Don’t say that shit in front of Viv, she’ll put your nut sack in a vise,” Jordan warned.
“Hey, what we do for fun is our business,” Cole said and I had to laugh. Even if Sophie didn’t seem to find any of it funny.
“I just remember Mitch knocking over my five hundred dollar amp and blowing a tube,” Garrett griped.
“Shit. Yeah. I forgot about that. It was your Marshall too. The one you saved all of senior year for,” I grimaced.
“I think I still owe you an ass kicking for that one,” Garrett remarked but I knew he was only kidding.
“It was one the best damn shows we ever had though. Minus the broken drum sticks and thrashed amp,” Jordan interjected.
“Yeah it was,” Cole agreed.
“Jordan wrote Fuck Me that night,” I pointed out, remembering how he had randomly started knocking out a beat and singing some crazy ass lyrics that went on to become a crowd favorite.