Bullet(39)

So, yeah…I had to do it alone, and I chose to do it over dinner. I promised Brad I would text him later and let him know, but I told them all not to get their hopes up. Too late, though, because I already had. Those two nights onstage had fueled my inner desires that I hadn’t even known existed, had awakened a dream that likely could have stayed dormant my entire adult life. Never mind any money I was expected to make. The guys said they’d do a five-way split after expenses. But I didn’t imagine that would add up to much, even though Brad had said they were starting to make money on merchandise too.

That night at dinner, mom asked how my afternoon had gone, which provided me the perfect opportunity to bring up what I needed to ask them. “About that…um…I told you I sang a song each night at the concerts, didn’t I?”

Mom looked surprised, and dad actually smiled. Danny was unimpressed, not that I’d expected him to be. Mom said, “That sounds like fun.”

“Was it a real song or was it some of that music you listen to?” Dad had never made his displeasure with metal unknown to me or anyone else within earshot if he happened to hear it.

I needed to win him over, though, so now was not the time to argue the merits of metal. It might come to that, but, for now, I just had to patiently present them with the proposal. “Well, I’ve been writing some lyrics for their band, and it happened to be a song I co-wrote, so it was a lot of fun. And, to answer your question, dad, yes. It was metal.”

He smirked as if to say, “Yep. Figured as much.” But he didn’t say a word, instead kept eating his dinner.

Time to bite the bullet. “Anyway…they wanted to ask me if I could sing in their band full-time.”

Mom smiled, but dad put down the bite he was getting ready to put in his mouth. “What would that entail?”

“Well, I have no details as yet, but they’re touring all over Colorado this summer. I already told them I have a job through the first week of August, and I don’t want to mess that up, but they said we could work around that.”

Mom joined in. “So what would be involved?”

“It would probably be weekends, overnight in several places.”

“How many girls are in this band?”

Oh, here was the hard part. I swallowed. “I would be the only one.”

“And you’d be overnight in other places with strange young men.”

“They’re not so strange, dad, but you’re right.” No sense lying about it. But I started thinking, Wait a second. I am an adult now. I was at college all by myself for a year…and it involved lots of overnights.

Mom said, “It’s not a good idea. But tell us more. Would you all be sharing a room or sleeping in a vehicle? What kind of arrangements will be made?”

“I’m not sure. We didn’t get that far in talking. I knew I’d need to run it past you guys first. When they performed their shows in the Springs and here, they stayed in a motel overnight. I could get my own room. That wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Do you have that much money, Valerie?”

“I’d be making money on the road.”

Mom let out a deep breath. “Sweetheart, it’s just not a good idea. Being with four teenage boys constantly—”

“Your mother is right. Not a good idea.”

“But dad—”

“No.” His voice was firm.

But I wasn’t about to give up. Not yet. I had one more thing I wanted to say. “Look…I was away at college for a long time. I was surrounded by teenage boys and even guys older than that. The thing is at some point you have to trust me. I didn’t get into trouble in college, and I wouldn’t while touring with these guys either.” Never mind what had happened last night. Over all, I had a solid track record. “I’m a good girl.”

My dad didn’t say another word, which meant his mind on the matter was made up. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, and I kept it together, but all I wanted to do was cry. Finally, I’d found something in my life that had set me on fire, and my parents were forbidding it. But as I sat there pushing the peas and carrots around my plate, I decided I’d let them sleep on it. Then, tomorrow, I’d tell them that I was an adult, and I had made up my mind. How could they stop me?

So, after dinner, Danny and I loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen, and then I went to my room, feeling disheartened, even with my plan in place. I tried not to give up hope yet, because just hours earlier I’d been thinking how much fun my summer would have been—singing, performing onstage, dressing up, rocking out, not just banging my head but leading a crowd of headbangers. Please don’t let it be just a dream, just a hope, a penny cast into the wishing well, never to be found again.

I decided my mood needed a little Three Days Grace, so I played some on my laptop and just started writing poetry, as I often did when something bothered me. I wasn’t going to text Brad, not yet, not until I’d given my parents the ultimatum.

There was a knock on the door later, and when I said, “Come in,” both my mother and father entered my room. I was lying on my bed. My mom sat on the edge, and my dad sat on the chair at my desk. I could tell something was bothering him. “Valerie, you’re right. You’re an adult now, and you spent the last year in college without anyone there telling you what to do. You got good grades. You stayed out of trouble. We need to trust you. We have to allow you to make decisions, and sometimes that means you’ll make a mistake or two along the way. But you won’t learn if we don’t give you the space to try. So…your mother and I have discussed it, and the decision is yours. We can’t financially support this endeavor, but we will support whatever decision you make. We love you.”

Mom nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, mom. Thanks, dad.” I hugged them both. I wanted to tell them they wouldn’t regret it, but I figured I shouldn’t push my luck…or make any promises I wasn’t sure I could keep.

* * *

Late that night, I was in bed and texted Brad. If u guys r serious, I’ll b ur singer! He didn’t text back.

Instead, he called. “Fuck, yeah! I’m glad you agreed, Val. I’ll email you the show dates tomorrow morning, and you can let me know how that fits in your schedule. Then I’ll email you all the songs we’ve recorded so you can learn them. I can do a couple rough cuts of the newer ones that we haven’t recorded.”

“Shouldn’t we practice together?”

“Yeah, but…look over the schedule first, and then maybe we can figure out some times.” When I agreed, he said, “Seriously…glad you decided to do this.”

“Me, too.”

I hardly slept a wink that night. All I did was imagine myself in Fully Automatic. I pictured myself onstage, engaging the audience, pulling them in. What would I wear? How would I do my hair? My makeup? I knew from what little high school theater I’d done that I should wear my makeup heavier and darker, but how would I know when I’d gotten it right?

In spite of all the worries, I slept well once I drifted off, but I had to get up early to watch the girls. Brad texted me midday to ask if I’d gotten the emails he sent. I told him it would have to wait until I got home, because I was at work.

He must have been up half the night, because I knew he’d had to work too. He emailed me every piece of music they’d recorded with a promise of more on the way so I could start learning the songs. He also emailed documents of the lyrics. Then he put together a list of shows. As I glanced, I was glad to see that most of them were weekend gigs, but there was one on a Thursday night at some place in Denver. Brad must have made arrangements with his job already for that one. I guessed that would be one they could do without me, and I emailed him back to say that.

I also noticed that the schedule went through October. Surely, though, they knew I would be back in school that last week of August. But, I supposed, it wouldn’t hurt to remind him about that either.

So I did send an email about both those concerns but told him I thought the rest were fine. They had quite a few Friday dates, but they were all nearby…Colorado Springs and the Denver Metro area mostly, so I would be pushing it, but it was doable. I told Brad all of that in the email.

I started toting my laptop with me to work. I didn’t hook up to my employers’ wireless, but I did use my computer to listen to songs. I’d get one looping in my head enough that my subconscious could start to work on it. By the end of the week, I was already feeling better about the songs. I had a week to go before my first show.

That weekend, on my first paycheck, I paid my mom back what I owed her and then went shopping. I went to consignment shops and secondhand stores, looking for vintage clothing, Goth-type outfits, leather, lace, and anything I thought I could convert into cool stage clothes. I also assessed what I already had. I had a lot of things I could use—some leather already, jeans, concert t-shirts. After shopping, I felt like I had enough different outfits for the summer so I wouldn’t get bored.