“Where’d ya go?”
I look down at the ground and shake my head slightly. “If she’s doing this for me I should probably do something about it, right?”
“I would. I’ve been playing for various bands for a few months now and I think you have a lot of talent. Personally, I think Trixie is just messing with you. You’re drawing a sizable crowd during Happy Hour and I think she doesn’t want to lose it. If I were you, I’d be out there talking to these suits. Some might ask for a demo so make sure you have plenty on hand.”
I look at him sharply, amazed that he can read my mind. “I don’t have one.”
“What?” he scoffs. “I thought you were a musician?”
“I am.” I shrug. “I know I need one, I’m just not sure how to go about it.”
Harrison laughs. “You ask someone for help. I’ll help you make one. You’re too good to be playing at Metro.”
“So are you,” I add.
He rolls his eyes. “Everyone says that, but no one is doing anything about it when they sign their deals. Besides, I like it there. It’s stable and pays my bills.”
I nod, pretending to understand. He’s really good on the drums and better than some of the bands that come in. I’ve seen the way he looks at people when they’re celebrating that they’ve just signed. I sit there and think about how he helped them. How he was an essential part in getting them the attention, yet they’re not taking him with them. Maybe he’s content being behind the scenes. That can’t be me though. I came here to make it or at least try too lately I’ve been satisfied with sitting on the wooden stool with Harrison playing behind me while I entertain the working class. I see so many suits that I can easily say I have regulars. I don’t care how much Trixie likes me playing that time slot, I need to move on or I’m going to be stuck in a rut with nowhere to go. I need to make a change.
And I need to make it now.
“Will you help me cut a demo?” I ask, unable to make eye contact.
“Yeah, I’d be –”
He’s interrupted when someone screeches his name. My first thought is that my grandma has invited one of his groupies. But that thought changes when I see his face light up. The girl running toward him is excited to see him as well. He stands just as she jumps into his arms. I know I should look away, give these two love birds some privacy, but they’re happiness is infectious. I had that once.
“I’m so proud of you,” he says as he sets her back on the ground. “Let me introduce you to my friend.”
When he says friend it hits me square in the chest. He’s my first friend here and even though my grandma says trust no one, I want to trust him.
“Liam, this is my sister, Yvie.”
My eyes bug out of my head. My initial thought of this girl being his girlfriend was so far off base, but the way they greeted each other was odd.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, standing and shaking her hand.
“Hi,” she replies shyly, her voice soft and low. I nod at her and sit back, but not without noticing that she’s biting her lower lip and her hands are fiddling with the hem of her sweater. She’s dressed like someone from the fifties with her poufy dress and ballet flats.
“Yvie was just accepted into one of the best dance schools. The competition is tough, but she nailed her audition.”
“Harrison, he doesn’t want to hear about that. It’s so stupid,” she asserts in a hushed tone.
I disagree. “I think it’s great. Congratulations.”
She smiles brightly. “You do?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” she replies, her eyes in a dreamlike state. Her eyelashes are fluttering and her head is slightly bent. She glides slowly, as if she’s dancing and sits down in the empty chair between Harrison and me. She rests on her hand and looks at me, making me feel somewhat awkward.
Harrison clears his throat. “So the demo?”
“Oh you’re a musician?”
“Yvie, what are you doing?” Harrison asks, his voice quizzical.
She doesn’t look at him when she answers. “Learning about Liam.”