Feuds and Interludes (Rock ‘n’ Romance Legends #1)

Chapter 8

Eight

B oone

“Just one more time, you guys.” It was our last band practice before we left for Portland to record, and I just wanted to work out this one last song. It was our practice to have solid songs together before going into the studio, and Brandon, Annie and I were a tight songwriting team.

“Boone, you need to rest your voice, man.”

Brandon and Annie had been treating me with kid gloves lately and though I knew they were right to be concerned, it drove me nuts.

“I’m fine,” I said, though I knew I wasn’t. This fucking physical limitation crap I’d been dealing with since my diagnosis was bullshit. It had only been a few months, and I was already sick and tired of my body getting in the way of my work.The doctors had told me it might take some time to get things under control, but despite diet and exercise changes, I was still struggling with insomnia and prone to super low dips in my blood sugar. I was on the verge of throwing a massive tantrum when Annie stepped closer.

“You say that,” Annie said, resting a hand on the neck of my guitar, “but you’ve been pushing yourself so hard. I’m worried about you.”

The twins knew that I was dealing with some medical stuff, but I hadn’t told them the truth. I didn’t want anyone other than Gran watching what I was eating—or not eating—reminding me to drink more water, joining me in our home gym to make sure I got my cardio in.

I sighed and took my guitar off, placing it on a holder. We practiced on the lower floor of Gran’s place. My rooms were down here and she lived upstairs. After Grandpa died, I came to stay and I never left. She didn’t have to tell me she didn’t want to be alone.

Annie and Brandon worried we’d disturb her, but I reassured them it was fine. She said she loved to have the energy in the house again. The twins totally fangirled over her whenever she came downstairs, which she did right then.

“Sounds good upstairs,” she said, her eyes trained on me with worry.

Damn, I must have looked like shit.

“Thanks,” I muttered, but Annie and Brandon chatted excitedly with her. I wandered over to the sink in my kitchenette, drained my water bottle, and refilled it. I stared out the bank of windows that looked over Laurel Canyon. It really was beautiful here. I often opened the windows in the middle of the night and just listened to the sounds, absorbing any of the leftover vibes from the days when great music could be heard from every nook and cranny of the canyon.

“You’re coming up to the compound? Boone, you didn’t tell us!”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Gran, you talked to Lydia?”

She grinned and pressed her hands together. “Yes, and she said she and Morrison would love to host the foundation’s benefit show this year. They’ve each agreed to play as well! Rose will coordinate all of the incidentals with me.”

I beamed. “That’s great news. It sucks that the Bowl isn’t available?—”

She waved a hand. “It will be nice to hold it in a different place this year. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get some new donors, even take it on the road in the future. I’m just so glad you put me in touch with them.”

Gran and Papa had set up the Collins Foundation ten years ago to raise money for artists in need. Too many of our peers had struggled with health issues, and after one of Papa’s good friends fell ill with cancer, he watched the man lose everything and vowed he’d build an organization that would ensure musicians wouldn’t have to jeopardize their health and suffer while trying to make ends meet.

Papa’s death didn’t just devastate Gran and I. It was a devastating loss to the music industry as well. Vera Jean loved the foundation and had gained strength and purpose from continuing the work after she’d lost her partner.

“Bruce is going to meet me up there. He wants to help.”

My shocked expression did little to eliminate her enthusiastic smile, and I had to turn away. I couldn’t let my pouting ruin a chance for her to have happiness again. I drank more water and took a moment to chill the fuck out. We’d already exchanged heated words after her date, when she’d let me know that she planned on seeing him again…often…seriously.

“But Gran,” I’d argued like an insolent teen.

“Boone, this is not up to you. I know I’ve leaned on you quite a bit, and I appreciate you being there for me, but I’m a grown woman with my own mind. And I want this. Bruce is just as wonderful as he was then, even more so now with age and experience. He makes me happy. I should think you’d want that for me.”

How could I argue with that?

“I guess we can call it quits for the night. I need to pack anyway.”

“You haven’t packed yet?” Annie said, rolling her eyes. “Of course you haven’t. Want some help?”

“No, thanks.” Annie knew she’d be taking her life into her hands if she came into my bedroom. I’d lived with her and Brandon for a long time when we first started the band. My pigsty of a room was legend back then. I’d like to say that age has made me a neater, more organized person. I’d be a liar though.

“We’ll pick you up in the morning, then,” Brandon said. He and Annie hugged Gran and collected their gear.

I shut off all the equipment and made sure all of the recordings were downloaded into the cloud so I could access them for Morrison. Gran moved to my side and twirled my hair with her finger.

“How are you feeling, dear boy?”

I sighed and plopped down in the desk chair next to the control panel. “I’m fucking tired, and I’m fucking tired of being tired.” I shrugged. “I'm not doing well with my ‘new normal.’”

She tilted her head. “And you haven’t told the twins, have you?”

I shook my head. “We’re doing the sober thing together and they know I quit smoking. That’s all they need to know for now.”

Gran sighed in that way that let me know she disagreed but was going to let me fall on my face on my own. She liked it that way, then she could swoop in and say she told me so. I let her. I knew she was right. That much I knew at my age.

“Bruce said Shane was getting ready to go to Portland, too.”

I nodded. “Yeah, we’re splitting time with them. I’m sure he’s not happy about it.”

“And that makes you sad, doesn’t it?”

I let my head fall back and spun the chair around and around. “It does, which is dumb. I don’t know why I care.”

“You care because you hate it whenever you can’t win someone over.”

The spinning in the chair used to help me think but right now it was making me nauseous. I stopped and closed my eyes. “Am I that much of a narcissist?”

“Boone, you aren’t a narcissist! But you love to be loved, and Shane is the one person you haven’t won over.”

“Yet,” I said with a wink. “I remember being like seven or eight years old the first time I met him. You and Grandpa had one of your wild parties, do you remember that?” She nodded and laced her fingers together. “I remember thinking he was so cool. I followed him around the whole afternoon.”

“Yes, and at the end of the day, you cried to me that you’d never be a big kid like Shane. I remember that vividly. That was before his parents split up, I think. When his mum still came to functions with Bruce.”

“And now I’m thirty years old and I still want him to like me.” In my stupid obsession of watching interviews with Shane, I came across one in which he didn’t hold back when the reporter asked him about Stellar. He’d said something to the effect that we were like candy that tasted good at first bite, but left you with a stomachache and a cavity. Not just us; he’d lumped us into the same category with several other bands currently sitting on the top of the Hard Rock and Alternative Rock charts.

“Then you go up there to Portland and you do what you do best, and you act like the consummate professional. That’s all you can do. But I will ask that you also be respectful when it comes to Bruce. I know your experience with him at the induction ceremony rubbed you the wrong way?—”

“It’s not that,” I said. “I was just worried for you. As long as he treats you with respect, he’ll have mine. I promise. No more tantrums.”

She grabbed my chin and wrinkled her nose. “You are so good to me, Boone. I want you to know how much I love you, and how blessed I am to have you in my life.”

“Stop it, Gran.” We both teared up, and I gave her a tight hug, which she tried to worm away from when she felt how sweaty I was.

“Now, you go shower and pack. I’m having Catherine clean up your disaster zone while you’re gone, and I won’t hear a word from you.”

I felt the urge to stomp my foot and protest, but that would undo all of the progress I’d just made with her.

She knew threatening me with Catherine’s cleaning meant I would clean up my own shit to avoid anything getting lost, broken, or tossed out, so that’s what I did. I spent the entire night cleaning my room, spending an inordinate amount of time putting loose photos in an album, organizing my paperwork, alphabetizing my vinyl collection.

So when Annie and Brandon arrived, I was still dripping wet from the shower and throwing clothes into a duffel bag. I made sure I had enough protein bars, all of my test strips and extra lancets, my monitor, my Metformin, my vitamins… Oh, and my manicure kit and polish collection.

I’d sleep at some point. In between playing with my band, working with Morrison, giving Rose a manicure, and trying to simultaneously avoid Shane and make him like me.