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“Fuck you! I’m totally punk rock!”
“Not after we went platinum the first time. Now you’re just a sellout.”
“I’ll show you a sellout, you fuckin’ – ” Riley raged as she launched herself at Derek.
“CHILDREN, CHILDREN!” Miles yelled, and the room settled down – but only after Riley got a few licks in.
“We just got off tour. Why are we doing a festival so soon?” Ryan asked.
“Public relations,” Miles said. “Now, next order of business – ”
“Whoa, hold on – that’s not an answer.”
Miles cleared his throat. “We need to reestablish the band’s presence.”
“You mean, you want people to see we haven’t broken up,” Derek said.
“More or less.”
“And that I’ve still ‘got it’ after rehab.”
For the first time
ever
since I’d met him, Miles looked vaguely uncomfortable. “Something like that.”
The room went quiet.
I knew everyone was tensing. The old Derek might have flown off the handle. He didn’t like being told what to do, for one. Add the suggestion that people were questioning his abilities as lead singer, and you had a Molotov cocktail ready to explode.
But the new Derek just shrugged.
“Fair enough,” he said.
There was a collective sigh in the room as the crisis was averted.
“Right,” Miles said. “Now, I was hoping you might have some new material to play when we get there.”
“To show them
we’ve
still got it,” Derek said. “As a band.”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Wait – when do we play?” Ryan asked.
“October 3
rd
,” Miles replied.
“That’s only three weeks away!”
“Then I suggest you get busy.”
83
After that, we were joined by the producer and the sound engineer. Avi was from New York and Bob was local. They all knew each other from doing the last record together, so there were a lot of hugs with the hello’s, not to mention numerous comments about how good Derek looked after rehab. They were both polite to me, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that they knew all about the romantic drama and were walking on eggshells.
Then the band went into the recording studio. Like their casual rehearsals on the road, Ryan was a stickler for recording everything, just in case a nugget of brilliance emerged.
I stayed in the control room with Avi, Miles, and Bob, and tried to keep out of everyone’s way.
“Well, we could do ‘When It Was Through.’ Or ‘Gold and Diamonds,’” Ryan suggested, referencing two of the songs I had heard them practice on the road. His words piped in through the speakers in the booth, making him sound like the voice of God.
Avi clicked a button on the console and spoke. “What about some of that new stuff you sent me, Ryan? I like that upbeat feel to it. Might be a good direction for the album.”
“I haven’t heard any of that,” Derek said.
“Why not?” Avi asked.
“I was kind of in isolation for the last month,” Derek said, slightly pissy.
“Oh, right… sorry.”
Derek turned to Ryan. “Let me listen to it tonight, then we’ll tackle it tomorrow.”
Ryan nodded. “Okay, sounds good. So… one of the other songs, then?”
“‘When It Was Through.’ Although I’ve been thinking of changing the title.”
“To what?”
Derek looked into the booth, straight at me. “‘It Isn’t Through.’”
A shiver ran down my spine when he said it.
It intensified when Ryan followed his gaze to me.
In that moment, I was convinced Ryan knew.
And I turned away in shame.
