I forget when we’re walking in the door that I’m a minor. If this were Beaumont, I’d be okay, but probably not here. I follow Harrison down a long dark hallway. The music being played is muffled and I can barely make out the beat, let alone the words. Harrison turns into a room that has a few people sitting around. One guy is sitting in the corner, strumming his guitar. Another sits on the couch, with a girl sitting on his lap. Neither of them makes eye contact with me.
“Thought you were going to be late, James?”
I turn at the sound of the female voice and step back. Standing there is a girl, no a woman, with raven black hair that looks blue under the florescent lights. Her lips are painted red and her eyes have barely any make-up on them. She’s wearing leather pants with some incredibly spikey boots and a simple tank top. Thing is I don’t think there’s anything simple about this woman.
“Liam sprung me from party purgatory. I’m here and at your service, Trixie.”
Trixie?
I avert my gaze once Harrison says her name. I look around the room taking in the walls that have band posters adorning them. The furniture is a bit rough, but looks comfortable and the guy in the corner seems oblivious to me just standing in the middle of the room completely out of place. This is where I want to be though. I want to be waiting for my name to be called up on stage. I want to feel the anxiety and pressure I’ve read so much about from other artists. I want to deal with stage fright and people hating my music. I just want to get up on stage so I can sing and play my guitar for people. I’m not looking for overnight success – I just want the satisfaction of playing for people. I want the sound of hands clapping because they want to, not because they’re obligated too.
“Liam, huh? You’re a virgin.”
My mouth starts to drop open. I shut it quickly and clear my throat. “Excuse me?”
Trixie moves forward, almost pressing herself against me. She eyes me before continuing, “I’m not talking about your dick, but you’ve never been in a green room before. That makes you a virgin in my book.”
I swallow hard, afraid of breaking eye contact with her. Trixie steps away, laughing. “What’s your story, Liam the virgin?”
“Um… I’m just looking to play.”
“Trixie is the owner, Liam. She’s just giving you shit. But yes she can smell fresh meat a mile away. He wants to jam and I had a few hours to kill so I thought I’d bring him back here and hang out.”
“Are you twenty-one?”
I nod and pray that she doesn’t ask me for my driver’s license. Her head moves up and down slowly before she purses her lips and gives me another once over and leaving the room.
“You can breathe now, dude,” Harrison laughs as he pats me on the shoulder. “She’s a firecracker, but she’s trustworthy and faithful to her staff. I’ve worked for her since I was nineteen. She can be a little hard to take sometimes because this is her baby and all that shit.”
“Got it.”
“Right, so let me show you around. The band will be taking a break in a few so we can sit back here and jam a little before I have to go on stage. Do you want to watch the main act tonight? It’s an all-girl band and they’re pretty good.”
“All-girl band?” I question. I sort of like the idea of watching girls play so I can get a feel for how they perform.
“Well aside from me and Burke who plays the piano for them tonight.”
“Yeah man that sounds cool.”As I follow Harrison around the club I can’t help thinking about Mason and what he’s doing. I’d give anything to be giving him a tour or standing out in this club with him by my side as Harrison fills me in. Harrison is very unassuming and keeps himself to himself. The drive here he just gave directions, nothing else. No conversation about the weather and he didn’t ask about my life before Los Angeles and for that I’m very thankful. I don’t know what, if anything, I’m going to tell people. The last thing I want is people to think I’m still that kid in Beaumont who’s come to the big city to try to make it big. I don’t want to be a statistic. If I don’t make it, I’ll go home and eat crow. Beg for forgiveness and find some way to pay my way through school.
Either way I need to do this as the new me, not the old one. Not the one that was so stressed out and anxiety riddled that I couldn’t see straight. I need to try out the music scene, fail and try again in hope that I’ll be something. If I can do that, I’ll be something to me and that’s enough.
“Hey you should put your name down for tomorrow.” Harrison points to the sign-up sheet for open mic tomorrow night.
I grab the pen that’s on the table and write Liam before pausing. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it with the new me. I close my eyes and picture myself up on that stage with a drummer and a keyboardist playing right along with me, enticing the crowd to sway their bodies or hold on to their dates. I see them to sing along or jump up and down to the beat of the music. This is what I want. I scribble Liam Page, the name that has echoed in my mind since the moment my grandma said it, and set the pen down. Tomorrow, I’m booked for my first open mic in Los Angeles, that’s why I came here and now it’s done.
“Trixie goes over the list at closing and calls people at nine a.m. sharp,” Harrison tells me as he shrugs. “She’s a sadist, but people love her and they keep coming back even after they’re signed.”
“That’s good, right?”
He nods. “It is. Look outside.” He points to the window where people are lined up. “She does two sets. The top talent gets the last set which is what you’re going to watch, but she kicks everyone out after the first one so we can clean and get tuned up. Those people are lined up, trying to get front row.”
I walk close to the window and look out, amazed by what I see. “They’re here just to watch a band that hasn’t been signed?”
“Yeah,” he confirms, standing next to me. “These girls will get signed though, they’re that good.”
“And do you go with them?”
“What do you mean?”