Lucky Caller(64)

Dan set the guitar case down at his feet. The screaming had not paused for one moment.

Lucas just looked good-naturedly at the crowd and did that kind of calm down motion, which cut the noise by half or so. Then he raised his mic to his lips.

“Hi,” he said. The shrieks started again. “All right, all right.” He looked pleased. “Thank you. Thanks for that. And thanks for having me here.”

“We’re happy to, uh. Happy you’re here.” Joydeep blinked, looking down at his sheaf of questions. “We are happy … to see you both…”

My stomach seized. Joydeep had nailed the intro, but he and Sasha had prepared all their talking points for Dan.

“We, uh…” Joydeep shuffled through the papers again. He glanced toward the wings, toward Sasha and Jamie and me. “We are very excited…” His voice was transforming into that of the Radio Joydeep of old.

“Oh, god,” Sasha said quietly from next to me. “Okay.”

“What should we do?” Jamie whispered.

I imagined that facing Sasha across the net during a volleyball match, you’d see an expression similar to the one she wore now. Determined, decisive, something equal parts intimidating and thrilling. Like she was about to do that.

“Give me a mic,” she replied.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jamie handed the mic over to her.

She took a deep breath. And then she headed out onstage.

Relief played across Joydeep’s face at Sasha’s approach, and the smile he gave her was radiant. “Friends, audience members, guests, this is my Sounds of the Nineties co-host, Sasha Reynolds.”

Sasha paused next to the group. There was no fourth chair, since we weren’t anticipating an extra guest. Dan stood, gesturing to his, but Jamie ran out just then with an additional chair and set it next to Lucas’s.

Sasha sat down stiffly. “Hi.” The mic was too close to her lips, and feedback went off. She winced. “Sorry.” At a more normal volume: “Hi. Sorry I’m late. I was, uh. Parking my car.”

“Well, I speak for the whole Sounds of the Nineties team when I say … I’m really glad you found a parking space,” Joydeep said, and Sasha smiled.

“So.” Sasha looked to Dan and Lucas. “Let’s get into it.”

And with that, the interview began.



* * *



Sasha and Joydeep asked Lucas about his experiences going from being a normal high schooler, to auditioning on Pop Talent, to joining TION. Dan even chimed in with some questions of his own, about the music industry, and finding fame at such a young age. Lucas answered everything thoughtfully. He was funny and charming and self-deprecating. I would later find that my mom had texted me during the show: He seems like a very good boy!!! Manners for days!!! Alexis, on the other hand, simply texted me a long string of expletives, key smashes, and exclamation points.

“But what I really want to hear about is you, man,” Lucas said eventually, turning to Dan after telling Joydeep and Sasha about his favorite cities to tour in. “How did you get involved with Existential Dead?”

“Existential Dead,” Joydeep jumped in, turning to the audience, “if you’re not familiar, is a nineties grunge band that started in Indiana.”

“They’re vastly underappreciated,” Lucas added.

Dan explained the story of John, his job search, the offer to tour for the summer. Images flashed by on the screen behind them as he spoke. Jamie and I could see them at a steep angle from where we stood—a beat-up van parked at the side of the road, four guys with long hair and sunglasses standing in front of a gas station, posing with their arms folded. A drum set with a plush bear sitting on the bass drum.

“They were never particularly famous,” Dan said. “But the people who loved them, really loved them. And that music, when you heard it, standing in that room … well, it could move you, couldn’t it.”

He smiled a little. “I remember one night, Tyler was, uh … he had, you know, indulged in…” He glanced around the auditorium. “Recreational substances. Anyway, he couldn’t play. Said his hands were too numb, but he insisted the show would go on. I knew some guitar myself, had picked it up in high school, and had been playing around since we’d been on the road, practicing with their songs. So they brought me up onstage with them that night, and I played a gig. I played for Tyler. It was at this dingy little club in North Carolina. I’ll never forget it.”

He leaned down to the case by his chair, rested it on its side, and popped it open.

“Tyler ended up giving me that guitar, and I’ve still got it today, got it right here.”

He pulled an electric guitar out, white with a silver inlay.

Lucas leaned forward. “Holy shit.” His mic didn’t pick it up, but we could hear it from where we stood. He seemed to remember where he was after a moment, and brought his mic up to his face. “That’s his guitar.” He looked up at Dan in awe. “That’s his guitar. That’s the Eat Your Greens sticker. And the lightning bolt scratch, and Mitch Presley’s initials. This is Tyler Bright’s guitar from the Velvet Flycatcher album art!”

A ripple went through the Deadnoughts in the audience.

“It is,” Dan said. “And I’m very lucky to have it.”