All Access (Brothers of Rock #1) (rockstar contemporary romance) (17 page)

“Don’t get mad at me,” Johnnie said as he sat on the computer chair. 

He positioned the guitar on his lap and the second he strummed the first chord, Jess knew what he was doing.

She wanted to be mad but couldn’t.

Johnnie was playing the new song.  To her.  Live.  One on one.

As he made it through the first verse, Jess couldn’t stop her body as she started to tap her fingers and move her head.  It was just too good.  The perfect song.  At the chorus she licked her lips, wanting to sing.

When the chorus ended, Johnnie went back to intro progression and played it longer than it had been recorded.

“Come on, Jess,” he said.  “It’s just you and me.  Alone in your room.”

Jess stared at Johnnie.

“There’s no tape recorder,” he said with a smile.  “It’s just music.  It’s passion through sound.  The ability to speak in a different language.”

Jess closed her eyes and nodded.

Johnnie played the progression again and started singing the second verse. 

When Jess opened her mouth, nothing came out but she moved her lips as though she were singing.  After a few seconds, her voice came to.  It was low at first, very low.  Johnnie continued, not saying a word.  Jess wasn’t sure if it was confidence, love, or a combination of both, but her voice started to pick up steam and it didn’t stop. 

She opened her eyes and realized that Johnnie had stopped singing.  He just sat, his eyes wide in amazement, his fingers moving to the different chords as his other hand strummed. 

Jess couldn’t stop.  The chorus came again and Johnnie joined her.  Together, their voices created something that made Jess’s skin shiver.  She knew how good it sounded and in a sense of irony, she wished the song had been recorded. 

Once the second chorus finished, Jess waved at Johnnie and the song came to a sudden stop.

“Jess...”

“I’d do it,” she said.  “For you.”

“Do what?”

“Record the song.  If that’s what you wanted.  I’d do it.”

Johnnie smiled.  “I’ll have to get approval from four other guys though.”

“No solo Johnnie?”

“Never,” Johnnie said.  “We’re brothers.  And we’re in Chasing Cross.  That’s all that matters...”

“That what I was hoping you’d say,” Jess said.  “I won’t come between you and your...”

“Don’t say my band,” Johnnie said.

“Your brothers,” Jess said.  “I’ll be there with you.”

“Good.”

Silence reared its ugly head and Jess swallowed hard, knowing it was time to bring up the uncomfortable part of things.

“I have my plane ticket, for New York,” she said.

“I’m so happy for you.  So proud.  You’re going to be a huge rockstar author.”

“No, I don’t want that.  I just want people to enjoy what they read.  And keep coming back.”

“They will.”

That wasn’t the point Jess was trying to make.  She had to be more firm, more to the point.

“I’ll be in New York,” she said.  “And you’ll be... with Chasing Cross...”

Johnnie’s cell phone vibrated and rang.  “Hold a second, I’m sorry.”  He looked at the screen and frowned.  “It’s Peter.  I guess I have to talk to him about my decision too.”

“No time like the present,” Jess said.

Johnnie took the call...

“Peter... wait a second, what?  What happened?  He... No.  I don’t believe it.  Peter...”

When Johnnie ended the call a few seconds later, his face was pale white.  He was visibly shaking, so much that Jess put her hands to his forearms and tried to pull him towards the bed. 

He wouldn’t even look at her.

“Johnnie, what’s wrong?”

He blinked, staring at her wall.  “Rick...”

“What happened?  Did he quit the band?”

Johnnie shook his head.  “He... he’s in the hospital.  Jess, we have to go to the hospital.”

“Why?”

“He crashed his car.  Into a pole.  He was... drinking...”

(23)

 

Johnnie never really enjoyed being driven around.  He wasn’t a child and could handle any vehicle he wanted.  The years with Chasing Cross showed Johnnie that either he would be too under the influence to drive or that wild - yet loyal - fans would do anything to stop his vehicle for a picture or an autograph.  Granted, most of that had subsided since then but Peter and the rest of the
Chasing Cross Team
wanted the band to be driven around when out on tour.

As he sat in the backseat of the car with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, Johnnie appreciated having someone to drive him.  More so because it didn’t have to be Jess.  She sat next to him, her hand gently touching and sometimes rubbing his back. 

The guilt came in waves and Johnnie wasn’t sure how he’d handle it.  In fact, if he felt this way any other time, he’d drink.  Nothing like a couple shots of whiskey or scotch to take that edge off and make the guilt and pain go away.  But it was just that activity that caused this mess.

Rick.

Johnnie knew he looked half drunk in his room.  And then he left, to do what?  Drink more?  Get a car?  Drive... crash...

“I hope nobody else was hurt,” Johnnie whispered.

“Don’t think like that,” Jess offered.  “Let’s just get there first.”

Johnnie nodded.

He tried to remember when he first thought Rick had a drinking problem.  Years, yes, and yet nothing was said or done.  As much as Johnnie had wanted to assume it was the sting of the road, it had to go beyond that.  Sometimes on the road, the loneliness between shows would get to you.  Or at night, when everyone was asleep but you and the tour bus driver.  Look out to the road and watch it fly by.  House after house.  Town after town.  City after city.  A new city in the morning, a new show at night, and then back to the tour bus.  Once in a while it felt like a prison.  Like a tunneled hell.  And that’s when the bottle tasted best.

But what would happen if your entire life felt like a hell?

Johnnie clenched his eyes shut and cursed himself.  He should have stopped Rick today or even a long time ago.

At the hospital, things became another fiasco.  The driver stopped at the emergency entrance and the second Johnnie stepped out of the car, people started to recognize him.  Jess thankfully stepped in, huddling against him with her head down acting as though she were in pain.  Johnnie rushed into the hospital and met Peter who had a security guard there to escort them, privately.

Everything moved fast.  The walk.  The elevator ride.  People calling his name.  The security guard telling him how great Chasing Cross is.  All Johnnie could do was stare and nod. 

When he rounded the end of a hall, he saw the rest of the band standing in the hallway, their backs against the wall.  They looked upset but not grieving.

“Danny!” Johnnie cried out.

He started to run and slipped away from Jess.  He reached back and when he didn’t find her, he kept going. 

Danny met Johnnie and hugged him.  Chris and Davey joined next and they shared a moment of silence together.

“Is he...”

“Johnnie,” Danny said, “he’s fine.”

“He’s alive?”

“He’s alive,” Chris said.  “He’s an asshole, but alive.”

Johnnie backed up.  “What happened?”

Chris said, “He took one of the cars.  Claims he was checking his phone and looked up and got confused.  He swerved off the road, lost control, and hit a tree.”

“His phone?” Johnnie asked.

“Of all damn things,” Davey said.  “A rockstar crashing because of a phone.”

“Was he drunk?”

“Not legally,” Chris said.  “Close enough though.  Probably still burning off last night.”

“No injuries?”

Chris, Davey, and Danny all looked at each other.  “Not exactly.  Why don’t you go in and talk to him.”

Johnnie had nothing against that.  He hurried into the room expecting the worst.  In his mind, he saw Rick hooked up to a ventilator, breathing life in and out of his body by the second.  Instead, Rick was sitting up in a hospital bed, his head to the right, staring out the window.

“Rick... what the hell...”

“Don’t say it,” Rick said.  “I fucked up.”

“Well, yeah.  You did.  But are you okay?”

Rick lifted his left arm, showing a white cast.

“Is that it?” Johnnie asked.

“My back hurts, but, you know...”

“You picked white because you want all the women to sign it with their numbers,” Johnnie said with a smile.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I am,” Johnnie said.  “I blame myself for this.”

“Don’t.  It’s not you, Johnnie.  I’ve been a mess for a while.”

“Why?”  Johnnie walked to the side the bed.  “Tell me why.”

“Everything, okay?”

“That doesn’t answer me.”

“Johnnie, it’s just everything.  The band.  The tour.  The life.”

“Talk to me about it then,” Johnnie said.  He caught himself raising his voice and stopped.  “Talk to me.  Talk to someone in our band.”

“Our band...”

“It’s our band,” Johnnie said.  He touched Rick’s shoulder.  “It’s always been our band.  That stuff with Peter...”

“That’s not my business.  I’m sorry I saw.”

“I’m sorry too, but I need you to know what happened.  I wrote a new song and Peter heard it.  He thought it would be a chance to go solo.  To play small places in between touring.”

“That’s what kills me!” Rick cried out.  “I don’t want the break, Johnnie, okay?  I want to play and never stop.  I want to die on that stage.  That’s why I’m learning guitar.  I need more.”

“I understand.  Rick, you’re a brother to me.  I would never do a thing to hurt you or the rest of the band.”

“I don’t know, man, I saw that contract and it was like the last straw for me.”

“What were you doing?”

“Leaving.  I got in the car and I was going to drive east.  Going until the car ran out of gas or until my mind made sense.”

“Where were you really going?” Johnnie asked, reading beyond Rick’s lying eyes.

“I was going to go to a hotel upstate, find a liquor store, and kill myself probably.”

“Booze, man?”

“It makes everything good.  Makes me think of when we first started.  The cheap stuff we used to drink.  Our first tour.  The first single...”

“And it’s ten years later,” Johnnie said.  “We’re all rich.  We’re famous.  We still tour.”

“Maybe there’s more to it then,” Rick said.  “I don’t know.  I just have this burning inside me.  This empty feeling... and then we get on stage and it’s all gone.  I look out to all those people and I feel at home.  I see their faces, the way they move, how they sing every damn word...”

“Me too,” Johnnie said.  “That’s when I feel at home too.”

“What about your girlfriend?” Rick asked.  “Does she know that?”

“She understands it.  I didn’t go out looking for her, you know.  It just happened.  It’s life, Rick, it just happens sometimes.”

“And I just happened to fuck up our charity show.”

“No, you didn’t,” Johnnie said.  “We’ll play.”

“Without me?”

“We’d never play a show without you, Rick.  You know that.”

“So what’s the plan?”

Johnnie smiled.  He touched Rick’s face and shook his head.  He thought about the first time he saw Rick.  Some skinny kid with black hair on a skateboard with a pair of drumsticks sticking out of his back pocket.  When Johnnie saw the drumsticks, he chased Rick down and asked him to jam.

“I should have known,” Johnnie said.

“Known what?”

“The first day I met you... you wouldn’t come jam unless I brought whiskey.”

“What can I say, I know what I like.”  Rick smiled.

“Seriously, Rick, you could have killed someone.  Including yourself.”

“I know,” Rick said.  “I feel like an idiot because I wasn’t even legally drunk.”

“That’s a good thing or else you’d be in jail.”

“No, it’s not that.  I deserve it.  Why should get I lucky break?”

“Because when you’re not drinking, you’re a good guy.  Keep it that way.  And if you get lonely, write.”

“Write?”

“You want to play guitar?” Johnnie asked.  “Learn how to write too.  Hell, you may end up with some material yourself.”

Rick’s eyes gleamed for a second.  “I was thinking, if you don’t mind a suggestion...”

“Rick, it’s our band, not mine.  Suggest away.”

“The next album should be acoustic.  Like what we did with “Chasing” the other night.  That was amazing.  Soft and slow, the lyrics driving the song.”

“Really?  You’d go for that?”

“Of course,” Rick said.  “As long as I could play guitar on some of it.  Imagine an acoustic tour.  Like Peter wanted with you.  Smaller venues.  Relaxed.”

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