Nobody Falls for the Opening Act (Break the Rules Book 2)

Chapter 37

“Now, this was a great idea!”

August howls into the wind from the driver’s seat, his voice carried away by the open breeze.

I hum a reply from the backseat, only partially paying attention as I practice the second verse. Blue Eyes is good — good enough to get Dade Connery’s approval, obviously — but with a little more polish it could be great.

It could be legendary.

“Yup! Just two single guys!” August shouts. “Driving through Texas in a bright red convertible. Rocking out. Well, you rocking out. Me, listening to you rock out.”

I keep playing, and I’ll keep playing until it’s perfect.

“Yup!”August says. “Just two dudes and the wide open road. The best threesome of all, eh?”

“Uh-huh,” I mutter to acknowledge him, hoping it’ll shut him up.

“I mean... I could do with less skunk, but it sure beats, you know... a huge bus.”

I set my pick down.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says. “This was the better idea. It was far too crowded in there. Full of famous and beautiful people. With money to spare.”

“August,” I say.

“And free food. I mean, who wants that?” He rubs his stomach. “Gotta watch the figure, you know?”

“August.”

“And it’s not like I needed the networking. Yeah, no. Jordan and Chrissy just weren’t good contacts for a smart guy like me who... left grad school for the real world experience of touring with the biggest band in a generation?—”

“August.”

“Hm?” He glances over his shoulder at me. “Oh, sorry. Did you say something?”

“This is just temporary,” I say. “All right? Once we get to Nashville, everything changes for us.”

“Right, right.” He nods at the road ahead. “Nashville, Tennessee. The land of great destiny.”

I adjust my guitar over my lap. “I get on that comeback album and everything will be fine.”

“That sounds great, Harvey,” he says. “Really and truly great. But it’d be equally as great if you’d clue me in on exactly what our next steps are. The big plan. You know, for science?”

“The next step is fame,” I say. “It’s glory. It’s studio albums and sold out tours. It’s working with Dade Connery and becoming something other than... Opening Act.”

“Right, right.” He pauses, chewing his cheek. “But, you know… Opening Act kind of had it made already.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“I think so. Opening Act knew the love of a beautiful woman. Opening Act traveled through Texas in the middle of the summer with her on a nice, big bus with working air conditioning!” he adds as he punches the dash.

“No, he didn’t, August.” I angrily pluck my F-string. “I’m not good enough for her. I never was.”

“And your big brain solution to that was to make her hate your guts? What sense does that make?”

“Nobody falls for the opening act,” I say. “You told me that, August.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being an opening act, Harvey,” he says. “It’s a rite of passage. You have to pay your dues. Everyone does.”

“The Electrics didn’t.”

His head swivels, dangerously taking his eyes off the road. “Since when are they your role models?”

“I don’t know,” I say as I fiddle with my strings. “Maybe they should have been all along. I don’t know.”

August shakes his head and turns forward.

I bite down. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“Just not recognizing my friend today, that’s all.”

“Whatever,” I say. “Just drive.”

“Fine, but switch off with me up here.”

“You’ve been driving for like an hour, August!”

“Yeah, and I’ve forgotten how much it sucks! At least play something else, please. I’m getting sick of that song.”

“Dade likes this song, okay?”

“Dade Connery hasn’t written a good song in twenty years!”

I lean forward. “Excuse me?”

“His last two albums were trash.”

“Take that back!”

“No.”

“Take it back, Augie!”

“No.I won’t. And I’ve been meaning to tell you: this whole fanboy boner you’ve got for him is fucking pathetic. Grow up.”

I choke the neck of my guitar. “Just shut up and drive!”

August spins the wheel, lurching our car off the road onto the shoulder. He slams on the brakes and twists around in his seat to glare at me.

“Harvey,” he says. “Listen up, because I’m only going to say this once. You are not my boss. All right? I am not your employee or your whipping boy or your slave. So don’t pull that cocky diva crap on me.”

I glare silently, not wanting the guilt building in my gut to seep out.

His eyes go soft. “You had Addison Abbey,” he says. “And you fucking blew it. And for what? For him?”

“She gave me an ultimatum,” I say. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“Side with her! You side with her. Always.”

“And give up everything I’ve worked for?”

“Look around you, Harv. You already gave up everything you worked for. Everything that I worked for. Do you have any idea how many doors you just slammed in your face? Or mine? Did you even think about how your little tantrum would reflect on me?”

I don’t answer.

“That’s what I thought.” He shakes his head, disgusted with me. “Do you even have a real plan? Or a backup plan? What happens when Dade Connery decides you weren’t what he was looking for after all and boots you off the album? Where you gonna go? Who you gonna turn to?”

“August…”

“Can’t go that way.” He shakes his head. “Uh-uh. You burned that bridge. Where you gonna go, Harvey?”

I bite down hard.

“Where are you gonna go, Harvey?”

“Just fucking drive,” I say, looking down.

August sits back. “All right. I’ll drive. I’ll drive you to New Orleans. I’ll drive you to Nashville and then I think I’ll just keep on driving back to Chicago.”

My heart burns. “Fine by me.”

“Good. It’s settled.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

August hits the gas and lurches us back onto the highway.

Next stop: New Orleans.

It’s one of my favorite cities in the world.

Full of little nooks and crannies to get lost in.

Just you and?—

I smother the memory before it takes hold, and I get back to work.