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TheNeedleheadreunionrehearsals were going well, and we’d finally come to a stage at which we had to decide whether to proceed with a concert.
I posed the question to the group, and looked around at them. There was an odd and mischievous expression on all of their faces.
Reed stood up, spokesman for the common man. “We, the collected non-Sylvester members ofNeedlehead, have only one condition for agreeing to the reunion gig.”
“Go on. I’m listening. You have me at your mercy.”
Our drummer, Pete, spoke up. “We want Luna to support.”
I beamed. “I’m on board with that. Of course I am. She’ll be thrilled to be asked, deep down. I’m not sure she’ll agree... but it’s gonna be better coming from you than from me. Can I call her here to ask her?”
The suggestion was met with whoops and hollers. The band wanted to make things up with Luna almost as much as I did – maybe exactly as much. I’d lost a girlfriend, and they’d lost a best friend.
Sylvester:Hey, are you free?
Luna:Err, I could be. What for?
Sylvester:I’m at band rehearsal. The guys wanna see you. Come by?
Luna:Sure. If the guys want to see me. Send the address
I slid my phone away and announced to the boys: “She’s on her way.”
They immediately started putting their heads together, trying to figure out the best way of asking her, with the most likelihood of her sayingyes.
By the time she arrived, they had planned a surprise. As soon as she walked in through the door, the three of them launched into a loud cacophony. Pete played a beat on the drums. Reed was doing a guitar solo that wasn’t a solo and didn’t fit with the drums or with Mark, who it turned out had a newfound passion for rap.
He rapped for a long time about the band’s history with Luna, and how it was a great shame that they hadn’t toured together, and would she now join us for our reunion gig?
By the time the godawful song ended, I was shaking my head, but also biting back a grin, waiting to see what Luna’s reaction was before I could relax.
“That was awful. Really, really terrible. Like a much worseLimp Bizkit.” Luna grinned, and I could see she was genuinely happy. “How could I say no?”
Luna
My dad called me the morning after I’d received the news about theNeedleheadreunion concert, and I had plenty to update him on. He was silently happy to hear that I’d accepted the gig, despite my reservations of how things had gone down withNeedleheadin the past.
My dad had been disappointed alongside me when it had all happened. He’d composed at least five songs around that time that were full of the doom and heartbreak I was feeling. He had an unusual way of showing it, but I always felt supported and understood by my dad, even if he didn’t do the traditional parental supportive things like pep talks or advice or emotional conversations.
He’d always just accepted me how I was, and I was grateful that I’d not had tons of expectation on me like some of my schoolmates had. Instead, all of the expectation and disappointment had been my own. Maybe that was worse, in a way, but I’d never fault my dad for it.
After updating him on theNeedleheadconcert, I remembered the other news that he might be interested in. “Oh, and this film director accidentally got hold of some of my songs and has been messaging me frantically, daily, to try and get me to lend my music to her upcoming film. Eli Robinson, I think her name was, I’ve not heard of her, anyway. She won’t move forwards with the film until she’s found the right music, and apparently, the right music ismine.”
My dad made a noise on the other end of the line. “Eli Robinson?”
“Yeah, you’ve heard of her?”
To my amazement, he spoke again, in full words. “Bridge of Unease, Indigo Street, Three Women and a Squat...”
It took me a moment to realize he was listing off film titles. Films by, apparently, Eli Robinson, the woman who had been begging me for weeks to let her use my music.
The fact that my dad, who rarely spoke or showed any interest in speaking, was listing off all of the titles of her films told me two things: one, that this woman was quite famous, and two, that my dad was really, really into her films.
He was still listing titles. I let him finish, pleased to hear his voice other than thehelloat the start andgoodbyeat the end of a call.
“You really like this director? You think I should do it?”
“Yes. Yes yesyes!” He sounded excited.
