“I can’t do this.”

Christy turns around from the stove, stirring the giant pot of cabbage soup she made last night. “You can do this,” she says calmly. “Why are you getting all freaked out now? You were as cool as a cucumber an hour ago.”

“Because,” I tell her, standing in the kitchen doorway, unsure of where I should go, what to do with myself. “An hour ago I wasn’t an hour closer to my impending doom.”

Christy snorts and goes back to paying attention to the soup. “You’re so dramatic, Lael. What happened to the positive, confident ball-buster that I know?”

I sigh and look down at my legs where Baby Groot has wriggled his way in between them, staring up at me with big eyes. He wants food. He always wants food.

I scoop him up and give him a kiss on the nose. “But what if I do get the job,” I say, more to Baby Groot than to Christy. “Then what am I going to do with you?”

“Aunt Christy will look after him just fine,” Christy comments. “We have a ball when you’re at work.” Christy works from home as a graphic designer so when I’m out waiting tables, she’s keeping an eye on him. Sometimes I feel we practically share the dog, which makes me feel only a little bit better at the potential of leaving.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. An hour ago I was blisteringly confident, totally convinced that I’m going to have the band eating out of the palm of my hand. Now I’m just twisted nerves, thinking I’m going to mess this all up.

No, I tell myself, putting Baby Groot back down on the floor, you won’t mess it up. You know what you’re doing. They just might not want all the baggage you bring, the Ramsey name.

And that’s so true. I felt so mortified the way that my father just sprung all of that on Brad, as if he didn’t have a choice. What makes it worse is I don’t think Brad does have a choice. What my father says goes. I’ve heard him say in many different ways that he discovered Brad and he owns Brad and knowing my father’s team of henchmen and lawyers, I’m sure it’s completely true. I just hated that my father would impose me on the band like that.

When I said I wanted to have a chance at playing bass for the band, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted a chance – I didn’t want to be forced upon them without any say and I certainly didn’t want it announced like that. I mean, Brad just found out one of his oldest friends and mentors died so of course my father had to add this whole disruption to the mix.

Luckily, Brad is a pretty easy going guy. Quiet as anything but still fairly decent. I mean, that’s probably an understatement. I’m trying not to dwell on the fact that I actually had him in my arms momentarily as he grieved over Mr. Robson, something that completely caught me off guard. In that moment he stopped being Brad Snyder, my idol, the man on the pedestal, the rock god of my dreams, and became something decidedly more human. A little bit less of a mystery.

Anyway, the audition idea is what I was hoping for in the first place when I asked my father. Just a chance to prove myself, fair and square.

Only now, I’m freaking the fuck out. In a way it would have been so much easier to have been forced upon them because they’d be stuck with me and I’d finally be able to live out my dream of being a working musician, playing live shows beyond my wildest fantasies. In time they would see how much I rock, what an awesome addition to the band I would make.

But that way comes with resentment. I had enough of that growing up, the way people treated me because I was Ronald Ramsey’s daughter. True, the private school I went to had a ton of kids who had famous and powerful parents but even so, my father has a reputation for making and breaking people.

I know everyone always assumed I would coast through life because of my father but that’s part of the reason why I left the US and went backpacking for so long. I wanted to put distance between the girl I knew and the woman I would become. Cheesy, I know. But I couldn’t figure out who I was without being on my own, away from my father’s cold and domineering shadow.

Now I know who I am and what I want. It just sucks that what I want to do with my life – play music! – is so intertwined with what he does. It’s like I’ll never escape. And I’m sure I could have moved to New York and tried to do it all without him, just as I did when I was backpacking, but the truth is, sometimes you have to stop being stubborn and use the helping hands offered to you. You should never let your pride stop you when your dream is on the line.

“You’re going to be fine,” Christy says, pouring herself a bowl of the soup and sitting down at the table. She’s been on a cabbage soup diet all this week. Every month it’s something crazy even though the girl doesn’t need to lose any weight. “You know you rock. You know you’re talented.”

“But they might not see that,” I protest. “Because all they’ll talk about is how I’m Ronald’s daughter. Do they really want me on their tour? They’ll think I’m a snitch or something. Or like some kid they have to drag around. They’re going to hate me. Plus, what if they don’t like my sound? I know what I can bring to the table but they might not want it. And who the hell knows who else I’m auditioning against?”

“Damn, girl,” Christy says, shaking her head. “You sure fucked up big time when you came up with that audition thing.”

“Actually that was Brad. And I had no choice. I could see in his eyes that this was the last thing he wanted. You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about an opportunity like this –”

“You mean dreamed about him,” she says wryly. I may have only known Christy for three months but we’ve become pretty close as roommates, especially when we have a bottle of wine between us. I may have mentioned Brad in a sexual way on more than one occasion. But she won’t stop talking about Chris Pine, so whatever.

“Anyway,” I push on, giving her a steady look, “this is my dream come true and I didn’t want to get it that way. I wanted to earn it, to win it.”

“And you will,” she says. “And if you don’t, then there’s something else. That’s what you always tell me. Better things are always just around the corner.”

I know that’s what I tell her but right now I can’t think properly. I just nod and head back into my room, shutting the door on Baby Groot. Normally he goes wherever I go, like my shadow, but I’m about to practice on the bass some more, make sure the pedal is working for the millionth time and he hates it when I play. He’ll be scratching to get out of the room in a hot second. I try not to take offense.

I sit down on the corner of my bed and go through the motions. I know all their songs by heart. I even know the songs from the avant garde solo album that Brad did. I can play everything in their catalogue with my eyes closed.

I try and think about what I can bring to them. What can I, just a lowly bassist, bring to a band that’s on top of the world, a band that has everything?

Stability is one thing. They want someone the opposite of Nick, someone they get along with. Now I know that during the audition they won’t have a clue who I am, at least that’s what Brad said. I know Arnie will know, but he’s a nice man and he doesn’t really count. He likes me. But after they learn the truth, if I’m accepted at all, I have to bring a sense of ease to the band that they didn’t have before.

Luckily, even though I do have natural showboating tendencies, I can keep that under wraps. I can keep my head down and let everyone else shine. That’s what I can bring to the band.

Sound-wise, though, that’s trickier. The band already has a signature sound that they never really stray from, probably why Brad branched out and did a solo project, just so he could deviate for once. Now, taking in my penchant for fuzz and effects and noting that Brad’s solo effort had a lot of that, I can bet that I may just have the sound the band didn’t realize they wanted or needed.

Of course I’m getting ahead of myself here. I’m just Lael Ramsey. As a bass-player, I’m pretty much a nobody.

But I believe in myself. And when you believe in what you do, that’s how you become a somebody.

I take in a deep breath, finding strength and courage in the air, letting it fill me from head to toe.

Then I pack up my pedal and guitar and get ready to do this.