Read Online Strings by Kendall Grey - Free Book Online Page A

what I got and offer me the frontman position on
the spot. We rehearse. I learn their songs. We write a few more.
Things gel. And here I am.
    “ See? Lucky.” He opens his
hands like the world is his fucking oyster. Must be nice to have it
so good.
    I frown. “It takes more than luck to make it
in this business. I guess if you have plenty of cash, you’re set.
Musicians like me have to work our asses off to get anywhere, and
when we do break through to the next level, there’s a whole new
tower of shit waiting to greet us. Nothing’s easy for us little
people.” God, he makes me feel small. I hate that feeling.
    He scowls, and the pitch of his voice rises.
“That’s exactly why I’m doing this. I want to prove to my dad and
all the doubters that I’m more than a snotty rich kid with no
talent. I’m here to show him I don’t need his money to make it.
Whatever it takes to win, I’ll do it, but I won’t grease any palms.
I’m playing fair because it’s the only way to earn my old man’s
respect.”
    Wank, wank, wank. Mr. Moneybags has officially crawled under my
skin. He’s not in it for the music. He’s in it for the pussy. All
male musicians are. “Your dad gave you a fucking tour bus. How is
that playing fair?”
    “ It was his parting gift.
I couldn’t say no. That would be insulting.”
    I shake my head. What a hypocrite. “I rest
my case.” Yep, Shades is exactly like every other spoiled rotten
Richie Rich I’ve ever met. What a disappointment.
    He shifts in his seat, and apathy
neutralizes his expression. “I’ll be straight with you. I don’t
care if Cherry Buzz Float comes along for the ride or not. In fact,
I’d be a lot better off if you didn’t. But, if you do, we’ll show
no mercy. If I have to mop the stage with your sweat at every gig
to win more fans, I’ll fucking do it. I’m here to win, and I’ll
walk all over you, your friends, and anyone else who gets in my
way. So, no offense if I kick your ass and thoroughly humiliate you
on stage every night. It’s nothing personal.”
    “ I think you overestimate
yourself.” You smug prick.
    “ I don’t. Jillian says
we’ve got a record deal in the bag. It’s just a matter of finding
the right label.”
    I laugh. “Jillian said that because you’re
loaded. She’ll kiss your ass from here to Kingdom Come as long as
you keep shitting green her way.”
    “ She said that before she
knew I had money.”
    What? No fucking way. “Wait a minute.
Jillian didn’t know who you were when you joined Killer Dixon?”
    He shrugs. “When she heard our new tunes,
she said it was a shame we couldn’t go on the road because we’d
make a fortune. That was when I told her I had a bus.”
    Shit. Then Killer Dixon
might be worth a shit after all. Jillian must really believe in them. She doesn’t
give compliments. Ever.
    So, inviting us on tour wasn’t a dollar
sign-driven ploy to help Cherry Buzz Float. It was the opposite.
Jillian felt sorry for us and used her pull with Killer Dixon’s
newfound cash cow to drag us along behind.
    Jealousy tangoes with my
hope circuitry and shorts it out. In this moment I hate Shades and
his stupid fucking band. I hate them because they’re better than we
are. And I’m supremely pissed at Jillian for taking pity on us. We
don’t need pity. We need belief . Belief that we know how to
rock with the best of them. Belief that we’re not the talentless
hacks I suddenly fear we are.
    I scoot out of the seat. “I gotta go. I’ve
lost my appetite. Thanks for…” I look at the empty table, my empty
hands, and my empty fucking life. “Nothing.”
    He holds up the napkin as I race past.
    Squeezing my lids shut to keep the tears
from falling, I toss over my shoulder, “Keep it. I don’t need
it.”
     
     

 
     
     
     
    Interlewd One

    Radio silence on the Cherry Buzz Float front
continues for several days. I assume the worst because I’m too
chickenshit to call Jillian. I know what she’ll say anyway,