Rock Candy

Ch. 1 – Sheila

“Tear My Face?”

“Yeah Tear My Face,” I smiled at my friend as Janice tried to wrap her head around the name. “They have kind of a heavier punk sound, but they don’t really consider themselves punk.”

“I don’t know if this is the kind of music we should be listening to,” Janice said as she looked around at the piercings and tattoos that seemed to cover every inch of the crowd. It felt like home to me. “Oh, he touched me,” Janice said as she almost ran out of the bar. I laughed as I ran to catch up with her. She was moving so fast I couldn’t get a hand on her until we were in the entry way to the club.

“Janice, what happened, we used to go to shows all the time?” I asked trying to calm Janice down.

“We’re not kids anymore,” Janice said, “I mean you still look like you belong, but I am too old for this, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Janice kissed me on the cheek. As she turned a burly biker walked into the club. “Eeeee!” Janice said as she ran out of the club.

I walked back into the club. There was no way I was going to let Janice ruin this for me. I had been staying in far too much lately. I needed to get out and enjoy myself. The band was already starting I moved through the crowd trying to move as close to the front as I could.

The sound of heavily distorted guitars filled the air. “We are Tear my Face!” The lead singer screamed. He was scrawny, with a big swell of hair that looked like a filthy mane. I looked from the lead singer to the bassist. He had at least combed his hair in the last ten years, but he was not better looking.

Despite the heavy sounding name and the hype that surrounded them I was no too impressed with the band’s first song. The bright spot was the guitar solo. As the lead guitarist started to shred, I could feel the strings as they vibrated through the deft touch of his fingers. It was a visceral reaction that I always ad to good guitar solos.

When he finished the solo and the chorus resumed he looked up and our eyes seemed to meet. I could feel an energy coming through his eyes at me. I smiled and he grinned back at me. The guitarist didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the band. He had long hair, but it was well kept and he was clean shaven. His muscular legs were popping through the holes in his jeans. His muscle shirt revealed bulging biceps. He was the only one on stage who looked like he had eaten in the last week.

When the song came to an end I saw him talk to one of the roadies, they both looked over at me. We were well into the next song when the scruffy looking roadies made it over to me. “Bobby wanted you to have this,” the man was furiously itching his neck as he spoke.

“Thanks,” I said holding up my own back stage pass. The man looked confused. “I get passes all the time.” I held up the pass for Bobby to see. He smiled at me. I worked as a song writer, and the record companies I worked with were always trying to get me out to shows to gather information and get to know a band’s sound.

It was always better to see a band live. Especially when you were trying to get a feel for who they really were as artists. So far I was not impressed with the lyrics that they had written for themselves. This second song was called ‘Tearing the Face’ and the first one had been ‘Tearing at Faces.’ What had seemed like a cool band name had turned into an odd fixation. One of these guys had to be connected to have the record company send me out here like they did.

“Just help them find their sound,” Joe Bitacola had begged me. It had been on one of my rare trips into New York City. Generally speaking I avoided actually going to see the record execs. They were so focused in on money it was hard to generate any creative energy in their presence.

Joe’s words echoed in my head as I listened to the terrible lyrics coming out of the lead singer’s mouth. “Trade the powerful power, for gooey goo!” He was screaming and I was scared. I just tried to focus on Bobby. He sounded amazing. I knew that I could build a sound around him.

When they headed backstage after the first set I followed them. The roadie who had offered me the pass was standing right by the door and he let me through immediately. He gave me a little bow as I walked past him. The halls behind the stage were like a maze, but I was always able to find my way in these situations.

“Bobby,” he said as I hopped over the arm of the couch and landed right in his lap. I was hoping to surprise him and throw him off guard, but clearly this happened to him a lot. “And you are?”

“Sheila,” I said. I was a little embarrassed. I hadn’t really thought this through. I wasn’t sure how to move forward now that I was already on his lap.

“You’re the woman who’s been sent here to find our sound?” The mangy lion of a lead singer snarled at me. I nodded meekly, I wasn’t afraid of him. In fact, I was pretty sure that I outweighed him. I just didn’t want to start my relationship with the band in a fight.

I looked back to see how Bobby was reacting to the news. His smile hadn’t faded. I moved onto the couch beside him so that I could face the rest of the band. Bobby seemed to be the only one who was happy to have me there. “I just want to let you know that I am really enjoying the show,” I lied, but it was a necessary evil. “I was just sent here to try and help you refine your song writing.”

“We’re not refined sweet heart,” the windswept alley cat spat at me as he at a cold piece of fried chicken. I was going to say something, but I had no idea what to say. I was thinking, but I guess I thought for too long, and the bucket of chicken paid the price. Drumsticks and breasts flew every which way and a thick greasy mark smeared down the wall.

“Don’t worry about Liam,” Bobby said as we watched the used brillo pad on the end of a pool cue walked out of the room. “He is just a whiner.” We both laughed as we heard a trash can clang out in the hallway. “He has a hissy fit every time my uncle gives him any criticism.”

“Does he write the music too?” I asked. I could hear the lead singer yelling at some roadies out in the hallway.

“No, he and Seth, the drummer,” Bobby pointed to Seth, “They write the lyrics together. I actually think Seth does most of the writing.”

“So your Uncle is trying to turn you guys into rock stars?” I asked as I watched Bobby finish his beer. He had full lips and a firm jaw line. I had to remind myself to pay attention.

“He put us together,” Bobby laughed. “He used a focus group, and asked everyone in the 18-34 demographic what they wanted in a rock band, and then he slapped us all together.” I think my face had to be doing something awful. I was a bit of a purist when it came to rock, but that really surprised me. “I know, rock ‘n’ roll! I get the outrage.”

“No,” I tried to pretend that I was fine with this situation.

“Liam is the moody lead singer, and I am the sexy lead guitarist, Seth is the bad boy drummer, and Ralph, the bass player, is quietly brooding.” Bobby explained. “We all met the criteria, and we should’ve been stars already according to the data. You hate it right?”

“No, I,” I had to stop myself. “Yes, I am outraged. I am. Especially at that dirty cue tip of a lead singer that just screamed at me about coming in from the record label and trying to fix his shitty lyrics!” We were both smiling and laughing as I railed on about Liam and his crap.

“You want to know something even worse,” Bobby could barely get the words out when he started trying to tell me the awful secret, “He, he, h, his name is Simon.” We were rolling back and forth on the couch as we laughed hysterically about the singer and his secret shame.

We were face to face. It took us both by surprise. We were laughing and rolling and then we were looking into each other’s eyes we stopped laughing. I couldn’t breathe as he moved his full lips closer to mine. I could feel the anxious butterflies swirling around in my gut.

“Bobby, it’s time to go, the second set is starting with or without you,” Simon yelled from the door of the dressing room. I let out a loud sigh at the sound of Liam/Simon’s voice.

“You’re going to wait for me right?” Bobby said as he grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet. “I want to talk more, about our sound…the band’s sound, I mean,” Bobby smiled and then turned and headed out of the room.

I was still caught up in the tingles that came right before a first kiss. I was trying to just play it cool, but I was in trouble. A near kiss had taken this kind of hold over me, what was going to happen when I got the real thing?

The crowd was smaller when the second set started. I had noticed a few people leaving during the first set, but the place seemed almost empty now. Liam/Simon was still giving his performance everything he had. He was filled with some sort of violent rage and as I stood close to the stage I noticed that most of the anger was directed toward me. He was staring right at me as he yelled and screamed.

They left the stage after five songs and called it a night. There were still five people in the club that were actually there to listen to them. One was even clapping as they left the stage. I didn’t want to have to talk to Liam again, but I needed to see Bobby. Even that angry toilet brush couldn’t keep me away. I flashed my pass and headed backstage.

I could hear the arguing as I walked down the hall. Liam was screaming at all of them, and the others seemed to be just as mad. They were all screaming about leaving and how awful the show was tonight. Liam stormed past me in a fit of rage. “You don’t have to help the band, because there is no band!” Liam ran past me.

I ran the rest of the way to the dressing room to try make sure that I got there before Bobby got pissed and took off without me. I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to get to know him. Everything had gone so well already tonight, and I didn’t want a creep like Liam messing everything up for me.

“Bobby, are you in there?” I yelled as I ran toward the door. I wanted nothing more than to see him sitting there waiting for me to show up. I knew that he would be feeling down, but I knew I could take his mind off of that.

 

Ch. 2 –Bobby

 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Liam shouted. "We lost the crowd because of those nine minute guitar solos. I hadn't even made it to the dressing room and Liam had lost his mind. It wasn't like we were going to nail it down to just one reason that any entire room full of people disappeared between the first and second acts.

"Maybe they all thought we were done," Ralph shrugged. He sounded angry and moody, but he looked like a temperamental kitty cat. It didn't make any sense when I looked around at us. We didn't work together as a band.

I had been in a great band when I was in high school. My uncle gave us a shot as soon as we got out of school. We made a record, everybody hated it, and we were over. I had been working as a sessional musician at the studio ever since.

I couldn't wait to go tell Uncle Joe that I had crashed and burned in yet another band. I could already hear him working up to his, "You should be an agent," speech. It always ended with, "You have a good ear for music, you just can't make good music."

I watched Liam storm off down the hallway and I sat in a funk for about a minute until I heard her, and saw her run into the door of the dressing room. I followed her into the room.

 I watched her shoulders drop when she saw I wasn't there. "Looking for someone?" I asked.

"No one in particular," she smiled as I reached out and took her hand. I was getting drunk on the energy that was passing between us.

"Should we get out of here?" I asked. I knew that some of the others were still hanging around and I didn't want to talk to any of them right now. It was always bad after shows, but Liam had really stirred the crap up. Seth was going to whine about the amount of work he had put in. Ralph was going to try and get my help in choosing a new name. We just needed to leave.

We left the club and headed for the Gino, it was the only place that I knew I could get ice cream this late. “This is so rock n roll,” Sheila teased as we got our sundaes. The kitchen was closed, but the Gino served dessert until the bar closed. “Isn’t it more romantic if we share one?”

“Sure, but there’s more ice cream if we get two.” I said. It had become sort of a tradition after the last month of terrible shows. I went for ice cream, usually by myself. “You’re the only person I’ve ever brought here,” I told Sheila, although I was looking at the Sundae. “It’s kind of my secret shame.”

“So you don’t go and get smashed with the guys?”

“If I have to,” I explained. “I really hate being around those guys anymore. We’re a factory band that no one cares about. Being around them makes me feel like a failure.” I took another bite. “We’re supposedly exactly what people want to see.”

“I think people want to see some of you more than others,” Sheila smiled, I watched as her cheeks turned a bit red. “And it’s not enough to have all of the boxes checked, you also need a good song.”

“I can’t fix the lyrics.” I had been trying for weeks. “Seth tries, but Liam thinks he’s got to get the band’s name into everything, and he gets final say on the lyrics.”

“Well, then I don’t think there’s any way around it,” Sheila had a sly look on her face. “He needs to be killed.” We both laughed, but I wasn’t really all that opposed. Although, Liam was just doing what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to be the moody singer. Tantrums just come with the territory.

“We shoun’t be har on hum,” I said with a mouth full of ice cream. “He takes this very seriously. This is his shot to break into the industry. I remember what that feels like.”

“So you don’t need this shot?”

“I’ll go back to session work, or work as a manager, my uncle is always trying to get me to do that anyway.” I finished the ice cream and we headed out the door. It was 1am and it felt like the night was just beginning. “Where do you want to go?” I asked as we got out into the crisp night air.

It was early fall, and the days were still hot, but it was cool every night. It was my favorite time of year for being outside. It seemed like it was always the perfect temperature. Sheila’s sparkling, blue eyes looked up at me, she was biting gently on her lower lip. Her perfectly formed, lower lip sucked me in, I put my hand on her chin and kissed her. She turned her body into the kiss and I slid my free arm around her waist.

The kiss broke as a drunk pushed past us. “Fucking kids!” He yelled. We both started to laugh. I grabbed her hand and led her down the street. Gino’s was just off of River Road and so we were a quick walk down from the sculpture park. It was one of my favorite places to go in the city.

“I can’t believe that,” Sheila laughed. “I haven’t been called a kid in forever. I mean, I have a kid.” She calmed her laugh and waited for my reaction.

“My uncle told me,” I said. It was true. My uncle thought the world of Sheila and her song writing and he had tried several times to get her back into a band. “He also told me that you were the lead singer for Pink Battle Axe. You guys were pretty hardcore.”

“Yeah, back in the day, I was pretty hardcore, I guess,” Sheila shrugged. “Your making me feel old.”

I stopped walking and swung in front of her. “You feel young enough to me,” I said and tried for a kiss, but she dodged under my arm. “Too corny?” She nodded. “Sorry, it sounded great in my head. I figured I would say the line, then kiss you, and then you would marry me and never let me go.”

“You’re frankly lucky that I didn’t just keep running. That was a very stalkery, creepy line.” Sheila laughed, “Although, I was going to say that I couldn’t see you as a manager, but now I see it.”

“Eh! What?” I pretended to be upset. “I will have you know that the ‘manager’ is a profession with a tried and true heritage, and a proud tradition of…excellence, or something. I mean if I don’t take 10% someone else will so why not.”

“That was a very good speech,” Sheila smiled. “I just find the whole music industry to be corrupt, managers, agents, and record execs are just the worst offenders. I literally can’t write in their presence, they have a way of sucking the creativity right out of a room.”

“I get that,” I said. I meant it to. I really did feel the same way, “But I just don’t have it. I am good enough to nearly make it, but I have an ear for hits. I would like to think that I can go in there and contribute to a solution. Fight the system from the inside, but I just want to make music.”

“I just want to make music,” Sheila teased. “Spoken like a true cock-eyed optimist, but you know you’re going to get sucked in…”

“Sucked in by something I love doing, that doesn’t sound so bad.” It was not only a statement it was a revelation. I had been avoiding the transition, because I felt the same way that Sheila did. No rocker wants to turn into a suit, but really working in the music industry was my passion. It’s exactly where I wanted to be.

“No, it doesn’t sound so bad,” Sheila said as I helped her up onto a sculpture of a giant bench. I started to climb up the side. “Honestly, how many girls?” She asked when we got settled on the bench. It was six feet off the ground and ten long, I could lay out flat without touching the back of the bench. It wasn’t much of a sculpture, but it was kind of my spot.

“Literally all of them, every woman who is crazy enough to come to the park with me gets to sit on the bench with me,” I said jokingly, although it wasn’t that far off. It was my favorite spot in the city.

“It’s a nice view,” Sheila said as she nuzzled into me. I already had my arm around her. She looked up into my eyes and I kissed her.

“He’s around here somewhere, we already checked Ginos,” I recognized the voice right away, and I told Sheila to hush. We tried not to giggle as we moved to the back of the bench. We laid out flat and stared at the stars through the long limbs of the ancient trees that stood above us. The sky was alive with activity. I saw three shooting stars.

“Make a wish,” Sheila whispered. We were trying to stay quiet. We could still hear the footfalls of Seth and Ralph as they stalked me through the park. I was surprised that they would even be out here this late. There should have been a studio party going on somewhere. We were all supposed to be doing our part to build buzz for the band.

“Bobby!” Seth yelled.

“It didn’t come true,” I whispered back at Sheila. We laughed as they continued to yell. Sheila snuggled up with her head on my chest and I threw an arm around her. It felt so natural just to be there with her. I didn’t always feel comfortable around people, but something about her put me at ease. In that moment it felt like I had everything altogether. With the stars as our canopy, I drew fresh air into my lungs and enjoyed the feeling of being, of being with Sheila.

“I think they’ve moved on, but let’s run,” I said when things finally settled down. I climbed down and then Sheila dropped into my arms. She was less than half my size. I started walking without putting her down.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Oh, am I still carrying you?” I asked. “I barely noticed.” Sheila swatted at me and got down onto the ground. She was still swatting at me until I started playfully wrestling with her. She jumped and took me right to the ground with a tackle. It was an unbelievably sexy tackle. I could barely breathe I was laughing so hard.

“I win!” She yelled. She sat up half way and pretended to drop an elbow on me.

“Ouch!” I yelled grabbing for my chest. We wrestled around for another minute before I noticed that Seth and Ralph were standing right over top of us. “Hi, guys, how are you?” I asked the question as if I was even questioning if it was the question I should be asking. They both looked depressed and angry at the same time.

“Liam is gone, and your uncle has pulled the plug, he says he is killing the band and he’s suing us all to get the funds he lost back,” Seth looked like he was going to hit someone. I knew this play, my uncle was just pissed. He would never waste his time suing out of work musicians.

“I will fix this guys,” I said. “You have nothing to worry about.” I looked into their faces. It wasn’t going to be enough. I needed a way to fix this for them.

*****

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