Divided Road (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

“You want me to audition for Flightless? Seriously?” Jared’s hand shook. He lowered his coffee cup carefully, not wanting to smash the thing. His sister, who owned the café where he regularly met up with Lincoln, would not be impressed.

A mix of excitement and terror raced through him, the former finally winning out.

“I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”

“But you’re their keyboard player.” Jared narrowed his eyes. “You love playing for them, and you guys are finally getting noticed. It’s not a good time to take a break.”

He and Lincoln hadn’t seen each other for a few months, life getting in the way. They’d studied music together at Victoria University, and kept in touch. Lincoln was living the dream playing in a band, while each time Jared thought he’d found his forever band, they broke up.

“And besides,” he continued, “given my track record, I don’t want to be the guy who broke up Flightless.”

Lincoln snorted. “You didn’t break up those bands. If anything, you held them together for months longer than they should have lasted. It’s not your fault you end up working with musicians who think way too highly of themselves. Clash of the Bands, my arse. More like Clash of the Egos for that last band you were with.” He sobered and broke his scone into bits. “Mum’s sick. I need to stay with her.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” Jared reached across the table and squeezed Lincoln’s hand. He’d only met Beth a few times, but she’d always made him feel welcome. Given Lincoln’s demeanour, whatever was wrong must be serious. “And sure, anything I can do to help, ask.”

“I’m asking you to audition for Flightless,” Lincoln said evenly. “I feel bad that I’m deserting them, especially as they’ve been supportive as hell. You’d be a good fit, and you’re talented. They’re playing Frays Days in March, and you’d have no trouble picking up the music.”

“Frays Days? Shit.” Jared had dreamed of playing there since his parents had taken him and Brigit to one of the festivals when they were kids. “I can stay with Beth if you want to play.”

Lincoln shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but there are the rehearsals leading up and everything else that goes with that. I’m not in the right headspace.” He bit his lip, anguish in his eyes, although he almost managed to hide it. “Thing is, I might come back to the band after… I’m not thinking that far ahead yet. If you joined them, would you be okay with it being temporary?”

“Sure.” Jared didn’t hesitate. “This is a huge opportunity, if they’ll have me, but not at the cost of shoving you out. I’ve dreamed of being part of a decent band, even for a while, and Frays is the icing on the cake.”

“Thanks.” Lincoln pulled out his phone and sent a text. “I’ve sent you Owen’s details. He’s expecting your call. I didn’t mention you by name, in case you didn’t want to, so you’ll have to introduce yourself. Tell him you’re Lincoln’s keyboard guy.”

“I can do that.” Jared stood after Lincoln did. He pulled Lincoln into a hug. Beth’s illness must be really bad for Lincoln to ditch the band when they were preparing to play at Frays. “I meant what I said about helping if you need it.”

“Thanks.” Lincoln sounded choked. “I’ll call you.” He gave Brigit a wave and left before she could talk to him.

“He left more than he ate.” Brigit slid into the chair Lincoln had vacated. “Not like him at all. What’s up?”

Jared quickly filled her in.

“Shit, poor guy.” Brigit looked thoughtful. “I’ll bake some of his favourites and send a care package to him, and another for Beth.” She adjusted the tea towel over her shoulder. “So, you’re playing with Flightless, hmm? Go you.”

“They haven’t heard me yet.” Jared wasn’t about to presume anything. He’d been turned down by more bands than he cared to remember. Lincoln might think he’d be a good fit, but he hadn’t heard him play for a while. He was out of practice, and nowhere as good as Lincoln.

Brigit narrowed her eyes in the ‘I’m not taking any of your shit’ look he knew all too well. “You’re a talented musician, and those other bands were shite. They probably turned you down so you wouldn’t show them up.”

“You’re my sister. Of course, you’d say that,” Jared murmured.

“When have I not been completely honest with you?” Brigit glanced up at the sound of the counter bell. “Julie’s got a queue, but don’t think this conversation is over, 'cause it’s not.”

“Yes, Mum.” Jared couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of her response.

He and Brigit were close, even more so since their parents had died in a car accident ten years before. They were only a year apart in age, so they had pretty much raised each other. Although Brigit ran The Strawberry Scone, she and Jared had bought it between them with part of their inheritance. He’d taken a correspondence course in accountancy and a barista course at Polytech after he’d finished his degree, although these days, he preferred to pick up casual work in various pubs around the area, occasionally filling in for Brigit. He’d hoped to one day be in a successful band and supplement his income with his bar work and his share of the profits from the café.

Hopefully, Flightless could be the stepping stone to that, although it would only be temporary.

But someone noticing him would be all he needed.

Jared grinned. Finally!

Then he sighed, feeling like an arse. He’d lost his parents and wouldn’t wish that on anyone. He hoped this opportunity hadn’t come at the price of Lincoln’s heartache.

Jared checked the address against the GPS on his phone. He was in the right place, but the house in front of him looked too small to host regular band rehearsals. Maybe it belonged to one of the band members, and they practised in the living room?

Some of the other places he’d rehearsed in hadn’t been great. He couldn’t wait to get out of some of the damp and dimly lit places. There’d definitely been a weird smell coming from the corner of the garage where the last band he’d been with practised. He’d cut his losses and run from those guys. They’d been weird, and the sickly whiff of pot had put him right off.

Shame they hadn’t meshed, or so he’d told them. He doubted they noticed he left because they were so stoned.

Lincoln had told him not to worry about bringing a keyboard. He’d left his spare with the band.

Jared climbed the steps to the front door and knocked. Owen had sounded friendly when they’d spoken on the phone, despite the awkward situation. Jared had been to a few of their gigs, but never met any of them, although he’d bumped into Owen at a party years ago. He and Lincoln tended to move in different circles.

He remembered Owen being hot, but Jared had been younger and less sure of himself back then. An attempt to introduce himself had soon digressed into him spilling beer down himself and Owen, and backing away quickly while mumbling an embarrassed apology.

Hopefully, that night had disappeared into the recesses of Owen’s memory, never to surface again.

Music sounded faintly in the distance, tugging at Jared’s soul. A lone violin weaved a melancholy melody above a bass and guitar.

Wow . Jared swallowed, his palms sweaty, his nervousness growing ten-fold. He yearned to be a part of the music, adding his keyboard to the mix. A man began to sing, his voice low at first, then building in volume.

Finally, the music stopped. Jared knocked again, spotted the doorbell and rang it, the sound reverberating in the early evening air.

A few moments later, the front door swung open. Owen Stanton was everything Jared remembered from that party and more. He’d filled out and wore his hair longer, wisps of light brown hanging over his forehead. He wore jeans, a black t-shirt and hoodie.

“I’m Jared Murphy. We spoke on the phone.”

“Lincoln’s friend, yeah.” Owen broke into a grin. “He didn’t tell me you were Beer Guy.”

“Beer Guy?” Jared’s heart sank. Oh fuck, Owen did recognise him.

“You were at one of Lincoln’s parties about ten years ago? You spilt beer down yourself, and me?” Owen seemed amused rather than annoyed. “I usually don’t forget a face, and you’re… rather unforgettable.”

“I’m sorry.” Jared wasn’t sure what else to say.

A short blonde woman appeared behind Owen. “Don’t be an arse,” she said. “We don’t leave visitors on the doorstep.”

Owen mumbled something and took a step back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just… wasn’t expecting….”

“Me?” Jared said, helpfully.

“Jared, right? I’m Kaci, and this is Owen.” Kaci gestured inside. “Come on in and meet the rest of the band. Lincoln has been singing your praises. We’re looking forward to jamming with you.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jared avoided Owen’s stare. Did he have something on his T-shirt? “Looks like Owen and I briefly met years ago.”

Kaci giggled. “Yeah, I heard enough of your conversation to figure that out.” She looked him up and down, her dark eyes full of amusement. “So, you’re the one who got away that night, hmm?”

“Kaci!” Owen looked mortified. “I told you that in confidence.”

“Moving on.” Kaci gave Jared a wink. “Sorry.” She linked her arm through his and led him down a hallway that opened into an enormous room. “This used to be the garage, but Rachel had it converted into a studio for us. Renting space is expensive, and she wasn’t using it anyway.”

“Wow. It’s… impressive.” And not what Jared was expecting from the street.

The room looked to have been a double garage, with the roller door at the far end, the band with their instruments in the middle, and a sofa on the other wall. A sink, fridge, and bench ran down the wall to the left of the door they’d walked through.

“Good space, eh?” A tall, well-built man with a shock of red hair approached them and held out his hand. “I’m Clayton Tulloch, but my friends call me Clay.” He shook hands. “Nice to meet you.” Clay indicated the remaining band members. “That’s Tyler Hollister on bass, and Phil Brindle on guitar.”

“And I’m Rachel Irving.” A woman not much older than Lincoln walked up behind them. “I manage this lot, or attempt to.” She chuckled. “I hope you’ll be joining us while Lincoln’s away.”

“You haven’t heard me play yet,” Jared protested.

“We’re about to.” Rachel smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Can I grab you something to drink? We have tea, coffee, and juice.”

Jared was pleased nothing stronger was on offer before a rehearsal, though he was looking forward to a beer afterwards. “I’ve brought my water bottle, but I’d love some tea later.” He looked apologetic. “I don’t drink coffee, sorry.”

“A man after my own heart.” Rachel sounded smug. “I keep telling these guys that the world doesn’t run on coffee and that some of us can work well without a direct infusion of it.”

“Whatever,” chorused Owen and Clay, like a well-rehearsed routine.

“Keyboard’s over here.” Phil rolled his eyes in clear amusement. “Are you familiar with our songs?”

“He’s not going to audition otherwise, right?” Tyler gave Phil a long-suffering look. “Don’t mind him. He thinks he’s funny.”

“But you still love me anyway.” Phil looked sad.

“Of course.” Tyler gave him a quick peck on the cheek, definitely not one like you’d give a friend.

So, they’re together. Lincoln hadn’t given Jared any clues about the band dynamics and teased that he’d soon work it out.

He’d heard rumours that Clay and Kaci were a couple, but so far he had seen no sign of it, although they were very touchy-feely around each other. Owen had kept out of the media as much as was possible, but damn, he looked good in a suit in his classical violinist role.

Although Jared much preferred the relaxed, casual version of Owen now. He felt real, whereas the other gave a persona vibe. The guy definitely had mad skills in both classical and rock.

“And?” Clay asked.

“Hmm, what?” Jared realised everyone was waiting for him to speak. What was the question again? Oh yeah. “I love your music, with its rock slash Celtic vibe.” He’d played along to a few of their songs to get a feel for them. Lincoln was right. Jared did fit. With the music, at least.

“Right answer.” Clay grinned. “We’ll start with some covers, well-known songs that you’ll already be familiar with, and then move on to the originals. Owen’s got a new one we were going to try today if you’re up for it.”

“Totally.” Jared played a couple of scales, and then a few arpeggios to get the feel of the keyboard. It was a good one, almost up to the standard of the one he had at home.

“So you and Lincoln went to Vic together?” Owen asked. “Music major?”

“I double majored in that and English Lit,” Jared confirmed. Both were subjects with limited job opportunities, but he wanted to pursue his passions.

“Nice one.” Owen grinned. “Music for me, though I snuck in a few history papers on the side.”

“You’ll have to compare notes.” Kaci grinned.

Owen narrowed his eyes. Her grin widened.

“When you’re ready,” Clay said.

He, Kaci, and Owen seemed tight. Phil and Tyler weren’t as vocal but seemed amused by the banter. Jared relaxed. Already, this didn’t feel like other auditions he’d been to.

“What are we starting with?” Jared asked.

“You know, Take Me ?” Clay referred to a song made popular by a Kiwi band a few years ago.

Jared nodded. He’d played the song with other bands. He could do this.

Kaci counted them in, and then Phil joined on bass. Jared saw his opening, mirrored the bass line, and then added a discreet counter melody over basic chords.

Owen raised his fiddle, and to Jared’s surprise, followed his lead.

When the song was finished, Clay led them into a song by a different band, and then another in a completely different style. After a few, he stopped and chugged water, giving Jared a thumbs up.

Jared reached for his water bottle and drank heavily. His throat was dry, although he hadn’t sung.

“I love what you did in that last song,” Rachel said. “Not quite Lincoln, but not so different that it changes the feel of it.”

“I’m not Lincoln, and I’m not here to replace him.” Jared wanted that made clear right from the beginning.

Clay held up his hand. “Yeah, we got that memo from Owen, too. No worries. We’re glad to have you, and appreciate you stepping into the breach at short notice.”

Jared swallowed. Did that mean they wanted him? “Umm, okay….”

“Of course, any decision will be made by everyone. We’re a democratic lot here, but so far, I’m impressed.” Clay glanced around the room, and to Jared’s relief, everyone gave him a thumbs up. “You’ve demonstrated that you’re great at covers, but what about original songs? Owen’s have a different feel to them, more Celtic than rock, and he has a couple of ballads in the mix too.”

“I haven’t heard any of them yet.” Jared hadn’t been able to find any of them to listen to on Flightless’ social media or streaming accounts. The songs were too new, and Lincoln had warned him that might be the case. They planned to put some out there in a few weeks to start the hype for their performance at Frays.

“I have music,” Owen offered, “or you can follow my lead. How’s your ear?”

“Pretty good. I’m comfortable with either sight reading or playing by ear.”

“Great.” Owen put down his water bottle and picked up his violin. “I’d love to see what you do with this one. We’ve only played it in public once at Hills in December, and I’ve made a few tweaks since then.”

“Okay.”

Owen played a C on his violin and then began to sing. The words and melody were beautiful, his clear tenor rising above the guitar when Phil joined in.

Caught up in the music, Jared hummed along with the harmony he added underneath, his voice merging with Owen’s, then breaking away. After a few moments, he stopped, realising that everyone else had stopped playing.

He flushed, heat spreading through him. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t intend to do that and barge into your solo. I won’t do it again.”

“Lincoln didn’t say you could sing,” Owen said slowly.

“I don’t, usually.” Jared had a passable voice and could hold a melody, but mainly only sang in the shower. However, something about being with the band had shaken off his inhibitions, and he’d joined in like he and Owen had sung together forever.

Owen and Clay exchanged a look before Clay spoke. “Your voice is great and added to the song. If you want to sing again, you should. We’ll tell you if it’s not working, but I think it will.”

“ Patterns in the Sand is a love song.” Owen hesitated. “I wrote it, thinking of two guys. Clay’s our lead singer, but not the timbre I heard in my head. Yours is.”

“I don’t want….” Bad enough that Jared was taking Lincoln’s spot. He didn’t want to get too comfortable and encroach on anyone else’s role.

“We’ve all sung on different songs,” Clay reassured him. “I’m happy to step back and support you and Owen in this one. If you want to, of course. Singing in public is way different to doing it here.”

“I’d like to, if that’s okay,” Jared said shyly. He’d never been asked to do anything like this before. “I’ll give it a go at least.”

“Right, that’s sorted then.” Rachel sounded delighted. “I think you’re going to be a great fit, Jared. Welcome to Flightless.”

“Thanks. I won’t let you down.” Jared’s hands shook. Fuck, he’d never been complimented like that before, or made to feel so welcome.