Smolder (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024)

17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Skyler

I couldn’t keep the beat worth a fuck. It was like my goddamn brain had completely shut down, and I couldn’t remember a fucking change JD, River, Goldie, Arlo and I had decided on Friday. Try as I might, my mind wouldn’t let go of what had happened with Sandy-fucking-Kensington earlier in the week, and it was a huge distraction I didn’t need. And now I was swearing like a sailor.

What had I done to make the man hate my guts? One minute, we were talking about whether we should eat inside or out by the pool, and the next, Sandy wasn’t speaking to me at all. He’d completely pulled away from me, making sure never to be in the same room as me, the son of a bitch.

All my decorum had flown out the window when Sandy basically dismissed me, and I didn’t give a shit. I’d tried to be a good person, and where the hell had that gotten me?

I desperately needed to get myself back on track before I tanked the whole project. I glanced around the studio to see everyone staring at me. The new producer Marshall brought from Frisco was in the booth looking at me like I was off my goddamn rocker.

I held my sticks in the air. “Sorry, guys. Let’s start at the beginning. One. Two. Three. Four.” I came down on the crash cymbals with both sticks and began pounding out the tempo we’d agreed to on Friday. Everyone fell in line with me, and we were off to a good start. I was glad the engineer was recording the introduction.

Just before Goldie began to sing the first verse, Marsh’s voice came over the speaker. “Hang on, guys.”

Marshall was in the booth with Casey Springer, the sound engineer and producer he had hired from San Francisco. I hoped to hell the work we’d done wasn’t for nothing.

Marsh entered the studio with a big smile. “That was great, guys. Let’s do it once more for Casey to get a backup track, and then, Skyler, would you consent to giving me five minutes of the score you’ve written? I want to include it in the package we’re sending to Harmon Studio.”

I nodded as Regal came into the room with all the members of From the Ashes. There was a guy with him carrying a bunch of photography gear. “This is it.” Regal gestured with his hand to the studio.

“This will work. I’ll set up after they finish.” The guy nodded, left his equipment, and walked out through the front door of the recording studio.

“What’s going on?” I directed my gaze to Regal. It would be just like him to change things up at the last minute.

“We need a press package to go with the recordings, so we’re going to borrow your instruments after you do the second recording and Cokely is going to take some shots.” I sighed, looking down at the shorts and tank top I was wearing. I glanced around to see none of us younger guys were dressed for anything of the sort.

Marshall noticed us looking around. “Don’t worry. We won’t need your picture. Just the band.”

It was a bit of a relief, but then again, it made me aware that it wasn’t fair to the other guys for my father’s band to take credit for all the hard work we’d put in to give the movie studio what it wanted. Was this the right thing to do? I really wanted to talk to JD, Arlo, Goldie, and River without the band or Marshall around.

“Give us a minute. Guys, let’s take a walk.” I followed the group outside and led them to the paddock, where the little donkey was busy playing with some of the disgusting goats.

Once all the humans were staring at me, I lost track of what I wanted to say. Thankfully, River seemed to read my mind.

“Okay, this is our chance to decide about the band or not.” He looked at me, and I shook my head. No, I wasn’t going to join them.

“Sky doesn’t want to live the rock-star life, nor does he want to be famous, but I think if we find a new drummer, we can actually make some money.”

JD spoke up. “My dad has a friend who runs the ski resort at Lee Canyon. Every summer they have a free concert there called Mountain Fest. Dad said they’re having trouble getting acts because it’s a free event. Why don’t we sign up? It’s next weekend on Saturday. We can leave Friday night and camp there.”

Everyone nodded at his suggestion, and then they turned their eyes on me. “Fuck it. I’ll play with you at Mountain Fest, but we’ve gotta build a playlist, and you’ve gotta look for another drummer. You need a band name.”

The four of them stared at me. “And obviously a leader. Let’s go talk this out with everyone.”

We returned to the studio, but instead of picking up our instruments, we went into the booth where the band was waiting. “We need to discuss this.”

“Discuss what? We figured out how to make this work. You guys will record the song for us five different ways, and then we’ll use a different track for the concerts. Others have done it, so it won’t be a big deal. By the time the studio figures out whether the song works or not, we’ll have it worked out the way we want.”

I glanced at my father and shook my head.

Marshall’s face showed disbelief, as did Ace’s. Ripper and Dusty looked guilty. It was inevitable that we’d get to this place where Regal would want to take credit for our work.

“Fine, but I’m not recording the soundtrack. If you guys are gonna take credit for our hard work on this, then you can write the soundtrack yourselves. Let’s get the backup intro done so we can get out of here.”

I sounded like a brat, but my parents had plucked my last nerve. I needed to get some control back in my life. I didn’t come back to Cupertino to be treated like a child with no control over anything.

Marshall walked back into the booth while my father and the rest of the members of From the Ashes were in the studio posing for pictures. I was sitting on the couch behind Casey—a nice guy—tweaking the playback to give to Marshall. He was going to hand-deliver it to Harmon Studio before the deadline.

I scooted over so Marshall could sit next to me. “What’s going on with you and my brother? He told me he’s not going to provide security during the tour. I’ve gotta find someone because if your father and the band take the stage with a recorded track and something happens, the crowds will devour them.” Marsh chuckled, and I joined him.

“Sandy has a lot on his mind. I think it was overwhelming having someone around all the time. No worries. I’ll stay here with Mom and Regal until we finish this.” I couldn’t throw the guy under the bus. At his core, Sandy was sweet. He was thoughtful. He was generous of spirit. After what had happened to him the previous year with getting arrested and then outed, I couldn’t blame him for being guarded.

“Well, I talked to him, and he said you should stay at his place while he’s gone. I figure by the time he comes back, you’ll be done with this, and you two won’t have to be in each other’s way. I really want you to give me a sample of that score, Skyler. It’s beautiful, and I think the studio deserves to hear it. It might help them decide to use the song, and that’s all we really want, right?” His expression seemed sincere, so I nodded.

“I’ll stay at Sandy’s if you’re sure he doesn’t mind. The piano is there, and I can record myself playing and send you the audio file. I have my laptop with me, and it has much better software to get a decent recording than I could get on my phone.”

Marshall reached into his pocket and handed me the house key. “The Yukon is outside. As soon as Casey sends me the files for the song, I’m in a Lyft and on the way to the airport.”

“Thanks, Marshall. I’ll be out before Sandy gets home on Friday.”

“Oh, uh, he’s staying a few more days. He’ll be back on Monday. He’s hanging out with some old football buddies next weekend.” That made sense. He probably did have friends still in the NFL.

I went to the house to grab the things I’d brought over that morning. I was thankful I didn’t have to share a room with River. His room was my old one, but now it looked like it had been ransacked and robbed, not that he’d ever find anything missing.

Mom was outside with the animals, but River was in his room with the speakers blaring. Obviously, my little brother was upset over what had happened earlier.

I knocked on River’s door. Nothing. I opened it and saw him face down on the bed, so I went inside, turning down the speaker from his phone on the table beside the bed. He was listening to Maiden Voyage, according to the lock screen on his phone, and when I turned down the music, he flipped over and appeared ready to fight.

“Whoa! It’s just me. What’s wrong?” I sat on the edge of his bed and stared at him for a moment until he wiped his eyes.

“Riv, what’s going on?”

“I have no job. No skills. A high school diploma that I got because I paid another kid to write my senior essay so I could graduate. Dad says I’m not very good at playing guitar and can’t sing worth a damn. I hoped maybe this was my chance at finding a career, and Dad’s just harpooned it by taking credit for something we’ve all worked hard to create.” Tears leaked down his flushed cheeks, and I felt awful for him.

Staring at him, a solution came to me. “Pack a bag. Come stay with me at Sandy’s house. He told Marshall I could stay there, and you can stay with me. If the others can come over, we can practice there because Sandy’s gone for about ten days. You need a break from being in this house with your parents. Sandy’s got a pool. It’ll be a nice diversion.”

River’s big eyes bore into me before he swallowed. “Really?”

I patted his leg. “Yeah. I’m going to go talk to Marsh about something. I’ll be right back.” I grabbed my duffel and carried it to the Yukon with me, stowing it in the back seat before I walked to the studio and looked in through the window to see Marsh was in the booth with Casey.

I hurried around the building and opened the door to the booth. Casey was wearing headphones as he worked, so I snapped my fingers. When Marsh turned around, I motioned for him to come outside, hoping to enlist his assistance.

When Marsh got outside, I closed the door. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure. What’s up?” Marsh looked around for a second. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Well, River’s packing. He’s going to stay with me at Sandy’s. JD, Arlo, and Goldie went home, but Riv’s going to call them and ask them to come to the house so we can work on the rest of the song, and Mom and Jeanne are probably at the barn. Look, I need to borrow Sandy’s Yukon. The guys and I are going on a little teambuilding trip next weekend. I think it’ll help bring us close enough to finish the song.” First, the cursing, and now I was lying.

“You think? Well, if it’ll benefit the song, sure. I’ll tell Sandy I gave my permission for you to drive his SUV to—?”

“The mountains. We’ll be doing a little hiking.”

Marsh stared at me and smirked. “Where are you really going?”

I nervously looked around, finally seeing there was no way I could pull it off. “Okay, we’re going to Nevada. We’re going to Lee Canyon’s Mountain Fest to debut their band and play the song as a cover song, with nobody knowing it’s being considered for a movie. I think I’ll have to substitute the drum kit for a djembe because we don’t have a way to haul everything, or maybe we’ll do it acoustically. I want to see an audience reaction to the remake to know if we’re on the right track.”

“Damn, Skyler! That’s a magnificent idea. Does the band know?” Marsh’s face morphed from worried to excited in the blink of an eye. He then turned his gaze toward the studio where From the Ashes was having a photo session.

“No. We see we’re not going to get credit for the work, but I owe it to those guys to play it at least once for an audience, and while it will be a free event, I want them to get a taste of what it feels like to perform live. If they can find a drummer, Marsh, you might have a new band to manage that’s on the way in, not the way out…literally. Are you going to rat us out to Regal and the band?”

I hoped not. I wanted to help the guys perform the song we’d worked so hard to create at least once. When they could adsorb the applause for their hard work, not just From the Ashes, who couldn’t play the song as we performed it, as they’d admitted.

Marsh stared at me for a minute. “You think those guys would sign with me? They’d be my first clients that I got on my own.”

I grinned at him. “If you don’t rat us out, I’ll make sure they give you the first chance at representing the best new band since From the Ashes.”

“I’ll be back on Thursday. Work your asses off while I’m gone, please. I’m going with you to Nevada, and we’ll do this right.”

That was how we got our first gig—or rather, that was how Accidental Fire got its first gig.

“You know Mr. Brightside?” JD asked, his eyes settling on me. We were all sitting in the fancy living room at Sandy’s house.

Goldie’s dad, Kenny Robbins, offered to loan us some equipment he’d saved for sentimental reasons when he used to play in a garage band before he went to college to become an accountant. I was truly grateful, as were the other guys.

Goldie had explained to his father what we were doing, and Kenny agreed to come with us to run the soundboard while we played at the festival. Through his connections, the band had been given a prime spot on Saturday evening. For a first-time band, it was a coup.

I’d also taken River with me to smuggle my drum kit out of my mom’s barn and clean it up, so we were a fully functional band. I planned to donate it to the drummer they found. I wanted those guys to succeed in the worst way.

We all nodded that we knew the song, and I hit a crash cymbal for two beats before River began playing the notes at the beginning. Goldie started singing the first verse, JD jumped in, matching my beat, and Arlo’s talented fingers skittered across the keyboard to support the melody.

Playing along with the band at the subtle level required through the verse, I was enjoying myself, and after we got through the song once, we decided we could fake it and moved on. We gave the same treatment to a couple more covers, only stopping when the doorbell rang.

I hurried to the door to see a man who had to be Goldie’s dad standing there with another man I didn’t know. “You must be Skyler Ashe. I’m Goldie’s dad, Kenny, and this is a friend of mine. Reuben Chase from Murder of Crows. I do his taxes. I told him about the band’s plan to play at Mountain Fest, and he agreed to come along to offer some advice. May we come in?”

Murder of Crows? I wasn’t familiar with them or their music. The guy appeared to be the epitome of a rocker, so how could I doubt him?

Maybe he had some suggestions that the band could use to reach the next level? To find their big break?

We headed into the living room, and the band members went wild over seeing Reuben Chase. It was heartening to see Goldie hug his dad. The two were obviously close, and I was envious.

Kenny had not only come out to support his son, but he’d brought help. I knew in my heart Regal would never be so selfless.

“Okay, boys, play me what you have.” I moved to the drum kit, and we played an old Guns & Roses song in a stripped-down version. I loved the song, and Reuben quietly sang along. When we finished playing, Reuben stepped forward with a few tips.

“I love it. You’re not trying to sound like the band, which is a great idea. I’ve played Mountain Fest before, and you get a forty-five-minute set. What else do you have?”

Reuben stuck around, and we worked out five songs, not playing ‘Bury Me’ for him. That would be our surprise for the crowd. When Reuben, Kenny, Goldie, and Arlo left, I looked at River and JD. “What do we think?”

It was their band. I’d get Marshall to help them find a drummer, but man, I loved what they had going. If they were my jazz band, they’d get an A .

Friday morning, Marshall arrived at Sandy’s house as I was just returning from my run. I’d kept up the hard-push routine to build my core because I was still committed to traveling with From the Ashes for their mini-tour to get the song out.

I didn’t like the idea of not really playing the song as we’d agreed on when we were in the recording studio at my mother’s farm. I planned to talk to the members of From the Ashes about leaving out the drums when we recorded the songs for the tour. I could keep up with the track if that was what they wanted to do, though I’d always say it was a bad idea.

“I cleaned up my old drum kit my mom had at the farm, and I’ll happily donate it to the band. It’s a small set, but I think it’ll be perfect for what we plan to do at Mountain Fest. Goldie’s dad has been kind enough to give us the rest of the electronics we’ll need for the gig, so that’s a plus, and he’s agreed to run the soundboard.” Marsh was helping himself to the muffins I’d bought at the store the previous day.

With his mouth full, Marsh mumbled, “Kenny Robbins? How do you guys know Kenny Robbins? And his tie to Reuben Chase?”

We weren’t trying to hide the fact that Goldie’s dad was helping us out, but I hadn’t exactly checked in with Marsh while he was in LA. Marsh didn’t need to know everything.

“The band wants their shot at success, and I want to give it to them. If that’s not something you’re interested in, or if you believe it’s in conflict with your contract with From the Ashes, we’ll figure out something else. We’re not without our own resources, Marsh.”

I kind of sounded like an asshole, but I had a mission to protect my younger counterparts. I liked Marshall, but I didn’t necessarily trust him. Plus, not asking about Sandy was draining most of my resolve.

Marsh stared at me. “Fine. I won’t push. I’ve rented a van for all the instruments and gear. Goldie, can you drive it? I’ve invited a stylist friend to come fix you guys up. Nothing drastic, just a little refreshing here and there. Call the boys and tell them to bring a few outfits to choose from for what they’ll wear on stage. You only get one chance to make a first impression.”

The man was right, but I was still leery. Marsh had threatened me with a makeover early on, and I was still worried about what he meant.